Page 18 of His Passerotta

“She’s mine,” Anthony says as he approaches.

Finn’s grip on my ass tightens. “Oh?”

“My establishment, my employee, my responsibility. Put her down.”

The longest moment of my life passes with crippling anticipation. My body is so rigid, if I move, I might creak.

A heavy sigh penetrates the silence as Finn sets me on my feet. I stumble to Anthony, weaving around his back to use him as a shield, my arms crossing to hug myself.

“I suppose you have a point,” Finn says, surprisingly without any sign of annoyance.

“I don’t care who does it, just get it done,” Maksim grinds as he walks past, Hugh lagging behind him.

Get it done.

Meaning kill me.

Am I still in danger?

The thought seems so ridiculous when I think about it logically—because of course I am—but it occurs nonetheless. Reality slowly takes hold, and I back away from Anthony. He looks over his shoulder and pins me with a threatening look that roots me in place.

“Sure you don’t need help?” Finn asks. “In the spirit of us all working together?” He flashes his teeth at me, and I dart my eyes away.

“Get out of here, Finn,” Anthony replies without a trace of friendly amusement.

Finn’s smile falls, and he gives a slight dip of his chin before turning and walking the way Maksim went. Brake lights shine down the alley from what must be Maksim’s and Hugh’s SUV. It must’ve been hidden in the dark when I got here.

Once Finn is a safe distance away, Anthony turns to me, his face as threatening as before.

“You understand that if you scream, I’ll kill you. Right?”

My arms wrapped around myself squeeze, and I nod.

“Good.” He points down the opposite end of the alley, toward the road. “Walk.”

I start that way, his presence at my back moving me as thoroughly as Hugh’s gun. We make it to the sidewalk and turn left, passing a couple hanging on each other and then a man talking on his phone.

I’m careful not to make eye contact with any of them. I’m not sure what my future holds, but I know Anthony isn’t bluffing. If he so much as suspects I’m reaching out, he’ll kill me. If I fuck up enough, the mafia may even kill my brother.

Corey.

My chest tightens, and I get lost in thought of my brother, the idea of him coming home just to find I’ve abandoned him gut wrenching.

I’m so lost in thought that when Anthony grabs my arm, I gasp.

He presses a button on his key fob that unlatches the trunk of the car we’re standing next to. My stomach drops at the insidious click.

It isn’t the silver Porsche from earlier. This is a black Buick.

Another one of his cars?

Does it matter?

“Get in,” he orders.

I glance up and down the barren sidewalk, knowing we won’t be alone for long.

What will happen if someone sees? Will they yell? Call the police? Get themselves killed in the process?

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