Page 46 of His Passerotta

My lips sag with a frown. “Hey… Did I wake you?”

She shakes her head as her arms cross over her chest. The way she looks at me is almost fearful.

She’s afraid of me? Even now?

“Go home, pretty boy,” the drunk laughs. “You don’t belong here.”

“Pete, shut up,” Bailey scowls, her face barely softening when she turns back to me. “What do you want, Anthony?”

Ouch. Not happy to see me.

What did I expect?

I gesture behind her. “Can I come in?”

A few seconds go by before she reluctantly steps to the side.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Thanks,” I say, walking past her. Vanilla hits my nostrils, and I breathe it in as I wander into her living room.

The place smells like her. Looks like her. It’s chaotic without technically being messy. There’s no trash lying around, but there’s also no order. The couch is covered in mismatched pillows with an old colorful-patterned blanket thrown over the back. She has a box TV I haven’t seen in a decade, but no stand. It just sits on the floor with a DVD player next to it. Who knows where the DVDs are. Or why she still has them.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just do it.”

My head snaps her way to take in the fearful but stoic way she holds her head high but has a slight shake to her breathing. Kill her? She thinks I’m here to kill her?

“What?” I ask, genuinely perplexed.

Her stone-face cracks, and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other but doesn’t speak. Something’s weird about her tonight. I wouldn’t find it unusual for someone to be so frightened by me, but her? I let her go, and she didn’t run. She still showed up to my restaurant. Why be scared now?

“I’m not here to kill you, Bailey. I’m here to apologize.”

She blinks at me, letting the stoicism melt away. “Apologize for what?”

I feel it when my eyes narrow with confusion but quickly correct it. “For being rude to you earlier. I was just … surprised to see you. And if I’m being honest, a little worried.”

“Worried?” she asks, her face softening. She shifts my way, and I wander the rest of the distance between us as I nod.

“Worried someone would see you. Namely, Maksim. He’s making a habit of showing up at my legitimate businesses looking for me.” My pulse jumps at the contact when I run a finger up her neck, stopping to tip her chin. “I don’t want to kill anyone, passerotta. But if I had to, it wouldn’t be you.”

She snorts, but it seems more out of nervousness than derision. “You’d kill Maksim to save me?”

“Yes,” I say without pause. I hadn’t given it much thought, not until seeing Bailey earlier, but when I considered the possibility… Yeah, I’d kill him. Chalk it up to a first round of retaliation.

Her lips part, and she must realize how close we are because she backs up a step, pulling away from my touch. I lay my hand at my side.

“What about your brother?” she asks.

I raise a brow. “Are you asking if I’d kill my own brother?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “But… Would you, you know, stop him? Did you stop him? Does he think I’m dead?”

I glimpse her closed curtains, wondering if someone is currently out there watching. Probably.

“He knows you aren’t dead… He isn’t an issue. Don’t worry about him.”

She seems to consider that, her eyes drawing away as she thinks, and I resume studying her apartment.

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