Page 3 of Protected By the Mafia

“Looks like he left you a tip,” the sexy man said. It almost sounded like he was amused.

Felicity did her best to bury her sigh. She’d get in trouble for this. “We can’t take tips.”

Something like a hum emanated from the man across from her, then he reached out and plucked the cash from her palm.

“What—”

He lifted his wallet from a pocket and extracted more cash.

She gaped. “What are you … doing?”

He arched a brow at her. “I’ll have to pay.” He slid a fifty and another bill she couldn’t identify from the wallet before tucking it away, still holding onto the singles.

A strange laugh bubbled up in her chest and Felicity felt her lips twitch. She unfroze and began dutifully swiping his items across her scanner. With her eyes on her task, it was a bit easier to speak, and she said, “Thank you for stepping in. Though you certainly didn’t have to.”

“He never should have talked to you the way he did. That brat’s lucky this place is busy.”

Her fingers hovered over the keypad as her gaze flicked back up to the man. He’s serious… Instead of commenting on his threat, she kept the smile on her face and said, “I think the lucky one is me.” The screen blinked as the total popped up, and before she could repeat it to him, he held out the cash. She gathered the coins for his change and set them in his waiting palm with the receipt, finding herself sad that he’d step away and she would almost surely never see him again. “Have a good rest of your day, sir.”

The corners of his lips lifted and his eyes darkened for a second before his hand curled around the change. “Take care of yourself, Felicity.”

She licked her lips as soon as he turned his back, fighting the urge to fan herself outright. He was still tucking the final item in a paper bag—paid for—when an elderly lady barely shorter than Felicity stepped up to the lane. Felicity watched the woman’s attention slide down to the bagging station while she scanned her sparse two items.

“You don’t see men like that every day, do you, hon?” The lady gave her a conspiratorial grin, as if she thought she’d spoken in a whisper.

Still, Felicity grinned back and shook her head. “I do not.”

The rest of her shift was entirely ordinary once the sexy stranger departed. She felt unusually drained and she wasn’t sure if she’d used up all her energy on the excitement of that singular moment or if it was because she hadn’t been allowed to eat. Regardless, her back hurt, her feet were killing her, and neither of things mattered as much as the rumbling in her stomach when she finally stumbled off the elevator onto her floor later that afternoon. As if the day hadn’t been long enough, she’d gone and forgotten that the elevator didn’t line up to the floor anymore, and caught her toe on the step-up. At least I didn’t totally face-plant.

She had her key in hand before she reached her door, but still she wasn’t fast enough.

The apartment across the hall and one door down from hers was wide open, soft music drifting out, and her least favorite neighbor stepped into the hallway. He smiled so wide the cigarette nearly fell from his mouth. “Long day at work?”

She did her best to keep her tone, and her expression, neutral. “Yes.” She averted her gaze, pretending she thought he’d stepped out to smoke.

“If you’re hungry, I could whip you up a nice dinner.” Matt moved closer, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside her door. “You look hungry,” he said, his gaze riveted to her chest.

Felicity fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself. She knew she was covered. She knew her long-sleeved tee did not dip too low or hug too tight. “I can manage for myself, thank you.” She put her shoulder to him and finally got her key to the lock.

“Don’t be like that,” Matt said. “You need someone to take care of you, someone to—”

Her fingers tightened around the key. “All you want is to get me naked,” she said sharply. “I’ve told you no.” She finally let herself glare at him, too cranky to restrain herself. “Repeatedly. Please leave me alone, Matt.” She’d gone so far as to complain to the landlord about his harassment, but it hadn’t made a difference. She couldn’t ‘prove’ it, so the landlord had dismissed her as just another overly empowered woman looking to make life difficult for men everywhere.

Matt blinked at her, straightened, and adjusted his cigarette. Ash crumbled away from the end, falling to the hall floor. “Someone’s cranky today,” he said in a disapproving tone. His gaze raked over her. “Fine, go take a nap or something.” He turned and waved a hand over his shoulder. “You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

She wanted to scream. But he was walking away, at least for the moment, so she hurried to let herself into her apartment and lock the door behind her. She didn’t trust that he wouldn’t help himself if she ever forgot that little detail. He was almost as bad as— No, she hadn’t had a bad enough day to think about that.

Felicity pushed into her apartment, flicking on the kitchen light and shoving what remained of her sports drink into the fridge before navigating to the bathroom. She’d clean up, wash the day off, then make herself some food. After dinner, maybe she’d finish that hot monster romance she’d started the day before.

It was a great plan, except she fell asleep on the couch two chapters in.

And when she blinked her bleary eyes open, realizing groggily that she hadn’t ever even made it to bed, seconds passed before any other realizations struck. Like how she was definitely in bed despite not having taken herself there. How it was still quite dark, too dark to tell what time it might be, or see anything around her. In fact … everything felt wrong. Even the bed.

Adrenaline finally shot through her and Felicity shot awake, her heart pounding. Her head swiveled from side to side, but she couldn’t see more than indiscernible shapes. A window, maybe, obscured by thick drapes. Something that might have been a tall armoire or wardrobe? She wasn’t familiar with it, though. Just as she certainly wasn’t familiar with the large, disconcertingly luxurious bed beneath her. It was hard to even find comfort in being the sole occupant, and slightly easier to realize she was at least certain she was still in the same pajamas she’d been wearing when she’d curled up on the sofa.

It didn’t matter what she was wearing. She’d been kidnapped in her sleep! Someone had broken into her apartment and kidnapped her!

Felicity pressed a hand to her chest, feeling panic rising, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to block out the unfamiliar. Focus on the positive. Nothing hurts. I can move my arms and legs. The air doesn’t smell funny. And if it’s a room, there has to be an exit.

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