Page 39 of Loathe Me (Touch of Death 1)
“I’m not bound by the same politics as your sister.”
“No. We aren’t.”
“There is no we.” I try another approach. “You realize that any involvement from you could reflect on your family and your sister. You risk war.”
“It’s too late for that. They’ve already waged one.”
“No, your father did when he broke faith on an agreement.”
Her jaw tenses, the muscles ticcing erratically.
I know I’ve touched a nerve. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’m sure your father would want you safe.” I glance down at the gun in my hand before holding it out to her.
She takes it, staring at the polished steel. A lone tear tracks down her cheek, and my chest tightens. I reach out, gently wiping away the drop of moisture that mars her skin, and she lifts her glassy eyes to mine. “I know you want revenge. I promise you; I will kill him.”
I turn and walk away, leaving her to her disappointment.
I linger on the corner of the street. I have a clear view of the front door of the building that Adelina and I are staying in. Truthfully, I don’t think she’ll try anything, but the building only has one way in and out. I’ll see her if she does.
A few people meander down the sidewalk, going about their daily activities. I seemingly go unnoticed as I press my back to the wall. Finally, Emilio rounds the corner, his shifty stance setting him apart from the tourists and locals. I wouldn’t usually meet him in broad daylight, but I don’t have time to waste. Emilio is one of Gio’s moles, and I need the information he has.
“Sasha.”
“What have you got?”
“I watched the apartment. I saw no one come or go. The doorman said they weren’t there.”
“He could be covering for Bianchi.”
He shrugs. “I do not know what to tell you, my friend. I don’t think he’s there.”
I remove my wallet from my pocket and thumb a few hundred Euros out, handing them to him. “Thank you, Emilio.”
He nods jerkily and wanders away, disappearing around the corner.
I tilt my head back, inhaling the clean air. I’m not sure what to do next. I’m torn between Adelina and my loyalty to Una, my family. I know exactly what Adelina’s fate will be without me, and the thought bothers me far too much to simply ignore.
No sooner has the thought crossed my mind than my phone vibrates in my pocket. Removing it, Una’s name flashes across the screen. “Yes.”
“Your place in Ischia was blown up an hour ago.”
On a sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is not good.
“The media are calling it a gas explosion.”
The question is whether or not it’s the Elite chasing Adelina and if they have orders to kill. It could also be someone working for the Bianchis. And if so, they could be after Adelina or me. That flat is listed under one of my old aliases. The Bratva would know it. Or they could just be trying to flush me out. Perhaps Bianchi is here in Rome and knows I’m looking for him. This could well be his way of trying to force me to expose myself. Too many possibilities make it hard to know which direction the next hit is coming from. Either way, Adelina’s not safe here. We’re too close.
“Thanks.”
“Sasha—”
I hang up because I don’t have time to debate the situation in New York. I just made a choice, and I’m not entirely sure I’m comfortable with it.
When I go back to the apartment, I find Adelina in her room. The door is open, and I can see her sitting on the bed, staring blankly out the window. She does that a lot. The sunlight plays over her face, and her hair shines with red tones under the rays. Her incessant chatter and careless immaturity used to irritate me, but I find I miss it. Sadness clings to her like a cloak, and I shouldn’t care, but there’s something tragic about it.
I step over the threshold into her room, and the floorboard creaks underfoot. Her gaze snaps to me, her hand inching towards her back where I can see the outline of her gun.
“We need to leave,” I tell her. “You aren’t safe.”
She sighs. “According to you and Gabi, I’m never safe.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“Adelina!” I shout. I frown when she stills, both of us surprised by my outburst. “Please just pack a bag.”
She pushes to her feet. “No. I’m tired. I’m not running, anymore.”
We don’t have time for this. Going to the wardrobe, I take her bag off the top and start shoving clothes into it. “This isn’t a game.”
“No, it’s my life!”
I whirl around to face her. “If you do not come willingly, I will render you unconscious and take you by force.”
Her eyes pinch. “You would—”
“You absolutely know I would.”
