Page 11 of Light It Up Red
“What? No! You’re out of your mind. It’s just a hockey jersey. It’s not a big deal.” I shake my head at him.
“Two hundred.”
Two hundred thousand dollars for a signed jersey? He has to be shitting me.
“No. But next time I see Travis, I’ll be sure to ask him to sign a piece of scrap paper for you.” I laugh and then immediately clamp my mouth shut, realizing my mistake.
“Next time you see Travis? How the fuck do you know Travis O’Neil?” Alessandro narrows his glare at me.
“Yeah, you really don’t want to know the answer to that question, little brother.” I grin.
Alessandro groans. Like he’s in physical pain. “Do not make me have to kill my favorite hockey player, Lil. Damn it.”
I don’t respond, simply quirking a brow instead.
“No. No. No! You are not…” He shakes his head.
“I’d love to stay and chat, but I got shit to do. Shit that doesn’t include standing around here watching you try to come to terms with the fact that I may or may not have screwed your favorite hockey player.” I pivot on my heel and continue down the hall, as my little brother tosses profanities at my back.
Chapter Six
Practice was grueling. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed with the hot-as-sin woman I left behind in my apartment. It didn’t help that I was running on two hours of sleep. And let’s just say… I could have skipped this morning’s practice with the amount of cardio I put in last night.
“I’m not walking out with you, man,” Logan says, stopping short as we’re about to exit the rink.
“What’s wrong with you?” I flick him a glance as I push the door open.
“I’m not risking becoming target practice for any stray bullets that happen to be aimed your way.”
“Are you on something?” My brows draw down. I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with him.
“Nope, but you must be. Seeing as you thought it was a good idea to take the Valentino Princess home last night. That’s the single most dangerous thing you could do in this city, man.”
I blink at him.
“Come on, you’ve been here for three years. You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t heard of the Valentinos?”
“I’ve heard of them, sure. But I still have no idea what you’re going on about or what it has to do with bullets.”
“They’re in the mob, you idiot. That girl’s father is the underboss of the Valentino Crime Family, fuckwit,” he huffs. “And you took her home and did God only knows what. Which means you’re as good as dead when her father or any one of her uncles finds out.”
“You’re being dramatic.” I shake my head. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Or I’ll catch you at your funeral,” he hollers back as the door closes behind me.
A few minutes later, I’m sliding into my car and pulling out my phone. I open Google and type in the words Valentino and New York. A shit-ton of articles come up about Lili’s family. I shouldn’t be reading them, but Logan has me curious.
Are they really part of the mob? And if they are, do I care?
The answer to that last one is a solid fuck no.
Tossing my cell onto the passenger seat, I start up the engine as the events of last night replay in my head, like a fucking porno on the big screen.
Fuck, I want her again.
The moment I pull up to my building, I jump out of my car and head straight to my apartment, making a beeline for my bedroom. Only to find the bed empty. I look to the chair where I left her clothes, sans her underwear because I kept those babies, and realize she’s gone.
She fucking left.
