Page 75 of Twisted Fate

The street is empty when I climb out of the car. The second I close the door, the driver takes off, leaving me standing under a burned-out street lamp. Markus said he’d be waiting outside, but I don’t see anyone. I check to see if he’s texted again.

Nothing.

So I text him.

No reply.

I’m just about to head inside when a shadow detaches from a the doorway of the auto supply. My brother stands in the shadows, shoulders hunched, his hands in the pockets of his oversized black sweatshirt, the hood pulled up.

I raise a hand in greeting, dropping it after a second when he doesn’t wave back.

The fine hairs at my nape prickle and rise. And in that second, I know I’ve made a terrible mistake.

Too late. He’s already walking toward me with that familiar swagger.

Ice rushes through my veins.

Keeping my hands behind my back, I reach into my purse and pull out my phone. I hope the darkness and the shadows hide my actions as I risk a quick glance and hit dial. It goes to voicemail. I don’t disconnect, just shove my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.

“Alina.”

I freeze at the sound of Enzo’s far-too-familiar voice, like the chilling rasp of a phantom I’d thought was dead and buried. He’s right in front of me now.

“Where’s Markus?” I manage, the words dry and choked.

“You were always a little too worried about that brother of yours. I see that hasn’t changed.” His voice sounds smug, like it pleases him to see me distressed.

“Why do you have his phone, Enzo? What have you done to him?”

“Me?” He affects an innocent expression. “Maybe you should ask the guy you’re fucking. Ask him why your brother’s disappeared, leaving his truck, his clothes, even his phone behind. I have his phone because I visited his place, looking for you. His phone was just sitting there on his dresser, begging to be taken. Figured if there was one way to get you to meet me, it was by pretending to be your worthless brother.”

I take a step back, my heart pounding, my thoughts spinning. I think of Damian telling me not to ask questions about Markus’ whereabouts, telling me my brother doesn’t want me to know where he is.

I think about the debt Markus owed, a million dollars, and Leo agreeing to erase it. Maybe he meant it was erased because Markus is dead.

No. Damian wouldn’t do that to me. I know he wouldn’t.

“Why did you want to meet here, at the Emerald?” I ask, my voice loud, hopefully loud enough that Damian’s voicemail picks it up.

“Nostalgia. I watched you, you know. I can’t tell you how many times I watched you leave work. So close. But I couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t go near you. That fucker was looking for me. He had a tail on you, waiting for me to show.”

Enzo steps even closer and grabs my arm, yanking me along as he starts walking. Then he pulls my purse from my grasp and throws it in a Dumpster as we pass.

“You won’t be needing that,” he says. “You won’t be needing money or your phone. I’ve got you, Alina.” He picks up speed, dragging me along. I look around, frantic, but the street’s deserted.

“I want to kill him,” he says as he drags me off the main street toward a deserted warehouse. “For even thinking he can touch you. He took you to get to me. Fucker. Bastard. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him like I killed his fucking father.”

I gasp. “You killed Salvatore Russo.”

Enzo just yanks my arm harder. His grip is bruising. His pace so fast, I stumble. He hauls me upright and keeps going.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, digging in my heels and trying to drag him to a stop.

He wasn’t expecting that. His grip on my arm eases just a little.

I lift my knee as if intending to get him in the nuts, then slam my forearm as hard as I can across his throat instead. For a split second, his grip loosens. I pull away and run back toward the Emerald, screaming at the top of my lungs.

“Bitch. You fucking bitch!” Enzo snarls from behind me.

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