Page 67 of Tasting Sin

“We heard you’ve had a rough couple of days,” Detective Stanton said. He knew? Ronan said they weren’t going to the police, that it was safer without it. Every step closer he took, the more my stomach tightened until I no longer felt like I could breathe—like there was a vice inside me, squeezing.

“How did you know?” I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around myself, as if it would protect me from the expected onslaught of questions coming my way.

Detective Stanton grinned, but the look in his eyes was less than friendly, and I was thankful for Carlo. “We know more than your boyfriend gives us credit for.” He took another step forward. “You’re in danger, Nellie.”

“No, I’m not.” Even as nervous butterflies raced toward my throat and I questioned if what the detective was saying could be true, I didn’t believe him. I trusted Ronan. Even if I shouldn’t.

He nodded, looking more serious. “Yes, you are, and if you don’t let us help you, it’s only going to get worse.”

“How will you help me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Carlo sat up straighter, as if it helped him hear better.

“If you can tell me what you know, I can protect you. We can get these monsters off the streets, and you’ll never have to worry about them hurting you again.” He gave me a grin that had to have been his version of the smile I give customers when I’m trying to sell extra cupcakes. It sent a chill down my spine. “But you must give me info. I need something. Otherwise, there’s nothing I can do.”

“I told you, I’m perfectly fine.” I shook my head. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

The smile on his face disappeared, and he leaned over the counter. “This isn’t a life you want to live, Nellie. The Morettis are bad people. Help me get you away from this!”

“You need to go.” I took a step back, concerned he might reach over the counter and grab my apron. Would he do that? I didn’t want to find out what would happen to him if he did.

Detective Stanton didn’t move. “If you don’t help me, I can’t promise you won’t get wrapped up in this. A pretty girl like you may not do so well in jail.” Carlo stood up, and his chair scraped across the floor, making an awful sound. The detective cringed slightly at the sound, but he kept his stare coldly glued to me.

“I said you need to leave.” My voice shook, but I pointed to the door. “Now.”

“That’s too bad.” He shook his head like he was a disappointed parent. “I really did want to help you. This isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of us.”

“That’s fine. I haven’t done anything wrong.” I held his stare while he backed toward the door, and his partner followed. When the bell rang as they left, I felt relieved and instantly exhausted, like I could use a nap.

Carlo left his corner, quickly approaching me. He put his hand on my shoulder, and the firm grip made me realize how weak my legs felt. I leaned against the counter with my hip. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at me like he was searching for a wound he knew wouldn’t be there. He had seen the entire interaction. “I should call Ronan.”

“No, don’t call him. I’m okay.” I nodded, earning a disbelieving head tilt. Ava did the same thing from next to me, and it was like I instantly had two babysitters instead of one.

“You’re really pale,” she said. Was I?

“I’m fine,” I insisted, putting my hands up and looking pointedly at each of them. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What isn’t that big of a deal?” Ronan asked while the bell rang, and I gasped. “You’re supposed to be at home.” He walked into the bakery, immediately rounding the counter and pulling me to him.

“I couldn’t be there anymore. I was getting stir crazy at home.” I wrapped my arms around him, giving Carlo a look over Ronan’s shoulder that told him not to say anything about the exchange.

Ronan broke the hug, brushing my hair out of my face and pressing his lips to my forehead. “You need to rest.”

“Will you all please stop treating me like I’m broken?” I asked, putting my hands against his chest when he didn’t drop it, pushing him back from me. “I’m fine!”

He looked at me for a minute like he was prepared to argue it, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he demanded he take me home immediately and tuck me right into bed. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tell him no if he did. “Fine,” he said instead. I felt temporary relief until he spoke again. “Now, what wasn’t a big deal?”

“You have to tell him,” Carlo said, and I shot a dirty look in his direction.

“Tell me what?” Ronan’s voice was lower, almost scary, when he was demanding. When his stare bored into mine, I gulped.

“That the FBI was here.” I tried to sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew it was.

He snapped. “They were what?” His voice was loud enough that Ava cringed, and I was sure anyone standing outside the bakery could hear him too. “Why didn’t you call me?

“They were only here for five minutes,” I explained, pointing at the door. “It was Detective Stanton and the squirrely guy. They just left a few minutes before you got here.”

“What did they want?” Ronan’s nostrils flared, and he took a too-calm-for-how-angry-he-was breath.

I put my hands on his chest again, trying to feel through his skin how hard his heart was beating. “To tell me you’re dangerous. He knew about them taking me.”

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