Page 23 of Tilly
I glance at the time on my watch and curse under my breath. “Sorry, ragazza, but he’s right. I gotta go. Want me to drive you home? Or do you want to stay here until I get back?”
Tilly looks around the room. “Um… is it okay if I just stay and keep studying?” she asks while chewing on her bottom lip.
“Of course it’s fucking okay.” I kiss her one more time before picking her up and sitting her ass on the other end of the sofa. “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” I tell her.
“That’s fine. I understand,” she says. “Just stay in one piece, Antonio,” she adds before I make it to the door.
“Always the plan, Matilda.”
I look around the room. We’re holed up in the back of a little Mexican spot. There are two exits. One through the restaurant, the other through the kitchen. I have five men with me, including Emillio and Rafe. Hernando has ten. Fucker knows he’s pushing his luck with me right now.
Leaning forward with my elbows resting on the table, I’m the epitome of calm, cool, and collected. “You’re wasting my time, Hernando. I don’t know who the fuck you think I am, but let me tell you who the fuck I’m not.” I pause, waiting until everyone in the room has shut their traps. “I’m not a fucking chump you can take for a ride. You and I both know this deal you’re offering me is an insult. It’s also not fucking happening.” I push the piece of paper back across the table. “Take this and shove it up your ass,” I tell him as I stand. “And lose my number while you’re at it.” Then I walk out the door that leads to the restaurant.
A string of expletives sound out behind me. I don’t bother to turn around. I’m the one with the product, and he’s the one insulting me by trying to cut me short.
As soon as we’re back inside the SUV, Emillio barks out a loud laugh. “Shit, bro, you trying to get us all filled with lead?” He shakes his head.
“Fucker wasn’t going to shoot us.” I roll my eyes.
“Where to, boss?” This comes from Rafe, who’s positioned beside me in the driver’s seat.
“Sin.”
“You sure you don’t want to rush home to your girlfriend?” Emillio taps my shoulder from the back seat.
“No, because as soon as we get to Sin, you’re going home. And I know you’ll watch her as carefully as you’d watch me,” I tell him.
“You do know she’s got her own family to take bullets for her. She doesn’t need us.” He sighs.
“What’s your problem with Matilda?” I ask him.
“I don’t have a problem with her specifically. I have a problem with her last name, and the fact that as soon as her family finds out what the two of you have been doing behind closed doors or should I say out in the open in living rooms… yeah, it ain’t gonna end too well for anyone.”
“You’re being dramatic,” I grunt. “It’ll be fine.”
Rafe follows me into the office at Sin, closing the door behind us. “What are we going to do about Hernando?” he asks.
“Nothing. Let him rot.” I pour two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Rafe and keeping one for myself, before walking around my desk and sitting down.
A stark white envelope catches my attention. There’s nothing written on it. So I open it and tip out the contents. The moment I do, my stomach drops and the whiskey I just downed threatens to come back up. Pictures of Tilly are scattered in front of me.
Picking up the single piece of paper that was included with the mess of scrapbook photos, I read the words out loud. “The deal is on or she’s ours.” I look up at Rafe. “They’re fucking dead. All of them,” I hiss out as I swipe an arm across the desk, pushing everything onto the floor. “Fuck!” I curse before slamming my fist into the closest wall.
Chapter Thirteen
Antonio didn’t come home last night. To his home. I fell asleep on the sofa and woke up in the same spot. I debated calling him when I realized he hadn’t returned but thought better of it. I don’t need to seem clingy. I get the kind of work he does isn’t a nine-to-five. It would, however, be nice to know he was okay and not bleeding out in a shallow grave somewhere.
I rush through showering and getting dressed. And just as I’m about to run out the door, Emillio appears with a set of keys in his hands, insisting he’s taking me to school.
I bite my tongue for the entire drive. I want to ask where Antonio is but I don’t. I practically run into my first class after thanking Emilio for the ride and have been checking my phone constantly for any sign of life ever since.
Three hours later, and I’m tired of waiting. I’ve waited long enough. And, honestly, I’m a little annoyed he hasn’t thought to message me. That’s what has me scowling at my phone as I type out a text.
Me:
Are you still breathing?
The read notification pops up immediately and then my phone starts ringing, Antonio’s name flashing across the screen. “Hello.”
