Page 25 of Charity's Torment

The woman in my earbuds issued turn-by-turn directions, but I had a feeling I knew where I was going. Her constant need to encourage me to run faster was irritating the shit out of me. I wanted to end it right here and now, but her narration of the men behind me was what kept me going. I couldn’t let them win; I was so close.

“Run faster, Oakley. They are gaining speed,” she said as I turned the corner.

I pushed my body into the last stretch and slowed down as I hit the drop point. “Congratulations, Oakley. You made it in time, and your comrades took out your enemies. You can now find your materials in your cache.” I bent over and rested my hands on my knees while sucking in lungfuls of air at a dangerous rate. “The next drop point is half a mile due south. But you must be careful. There are sniper points along the route, and new intel suggests they placed contact bombs on the path. Do you wish to continue?” I pressed the accept button on my phone, and her deep voice read off instructions for the mission.

I rested my hands on my hips and walked around in circles, trying to steady my breathing, then took off at a steady pace to the next location. My music kicked in, and I bounced my feet off the ground in time with the rhythm. Secret Agent X is my favorite running app that helped me keep my mind from thinking as I watched my feet meet the pavement. It kept me motivated to make me run the extra distance and break through that barrier.

I had plenty on my mind that I didn’t want to sit and think about, and running with this app was the only way I had to handle it at the moment. Luca was avoiding me, Max was busy handling conflict, and Nico had court almost every day—Luca’s men kept him and his firm busy. I was quite certain I was being watched, and I couldn’t get Luca to give me the time of day. Maybe he was smoldering the fire that lit between us that night?

I noticed a few days ago someone in a black car trying to be inconspicuous. He had to be an amateur. I had a keen eye for patterns, so maybe that was the reason I caught on so early. People rarely see the same vehicle or man, especially in a city. The guy stood out like a sore thumb, and I was aware there was a problem.

I concluded my run by taking sniper fire and blowing up a bomb. I had twenty percent health left, and I had to use my health pack to heal. I strolled to my car, a sweating mess, with a stitch in my side. That same black car had backed into a space at the far end of the lot; its owner was sitting inside. I wasn’t feeling up for the encounter, so I got into my car, gripped my gun, and sped away. He’d make a mistake, and when he did, I’d be ready.

I pulled into my garage and watched the door slide into place before I stepped out and went inside. It was still early morning and dark. I flipped the alarm to home and locked the door, then hit the shower. I needed breakfast. My gut was aching with the need for food by the time I toweled off. Once I finally made it to the kitchen, my belly was making dreadful noises. I threw two pieces of bread in the toaster and cut a grapefruit in half.

“Cannoli, come get your food.” The loud pounding of cat feet echoed off the hall walls. I thought cats were reticent and elegant, but he beats those stereotypes off their axis. He was my miniature lion, majestic and overbearing.

He brushed his black and mottled white body against my calf until I put his dish down, and then I was worse than chopped liver to him. He’d love me more if Iwerechopped liver.

I heard my phone ping as I put the spoon in the sink, and my toast popped up. I ignored it. It was probably my mother, anyway. Lord knows I can’t handle her crazy this morning. I buttered my toast with a spiced pumpkin spread and ate my grapefruit while watching internet video reviews on a new pistol I have been eying.

I watched the man tear it down and build it back up, and by the time I finished my breakfast, I convinced myself I needed to hit the range with it. My phone pinged again, and I gave in to the temptation to view who was irritating me.

Luca:La Famiglia at 11. Don’t be late.

The second text was a repeat of the first. Impatient fucker. Neglect me for days and suddenly make me jump when you feel like it.Fuck you, prick.

Me: Can’t.

I knew it wasn’t in my best interest to defy him, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to go around there when I had someone watching me. The last thing I wanted to do was to bring someone to his front door. Who knows how long he has been observing me.

I cleaned up the table and put my dishes in the dishwasher along with Cannoli’s licked-clean plate. Never let your food go to waste. I picked up my keys and helmet, and my phone pinged on the way out the door. I threw my head back and openly cried out with irritation.

Luca: Make it 30 minutes.

I plunked my helmet over my head, fired up the Ninja, and pressed the garage door opener in my leather jacket pocket. I sped out towards the restaurant. Since he was being an ass-hat, it was on him that I was bringing a tail.

It took me forty-five minutes to get to La Famiglia when it should have taken me only twenty. I went slow on purpose, just to skate his thirty-minute requirement, and to watch the shiny black car. Now it was just becoming pathetic. It was like he wasn’t even trying anymore. I even stopped and drank an energy drink at the gas station. The car parked and waited like some terrible PI who didn’t know what they were doing. It was sad. I took pity on the poor guy.

I pretended to be a patron and found a seat. The person in the car never came in, so I ordered water and went to the “restroom.” I hopped down the stairs and found Luca’s office. My skin electrified, and I became excited. I craved the violence he offered me. Even though I could still feel the anger towards him, I wanted his hands on me again. I wanted him to take his frustrations out on my skin.

I tapped my knuckles on the hard wooden door, imitating the jingle in my head. “Come in.”

The door swung wide, and I found all three of my men sitting at the desk.Mymen? Where did that come from? “This looks fun. I’ll just wait outside.” I stuck my thumb over my shoulder and slowly backed away.

“Sit down, Charity,” Luca demanded.

I slumped my shoulders, took my seat. “Look, I get it. If those kisses were the kiss of death, just spare me the theatrics, and pop me. I don’t need the whole Godfather show.” I tapped my finger against my leg, trying to be discrete as I did it.

“Relax, Charity,” Nico said, then put his hand on mine to stave off the nerves. His warm hand soothed my suddenly cold one, but no amount of contact was going to help me chill right now.

“You think I would call you into my office to off you?”

“Um… Hello? How many men have I offed next door? So, yeah.”

Luca nodded his head and scrunched his chin, agreeing with my statement. “Fair point.”

“Yeah. I know. Your dad may have built this place, but I run this bitch like my personal Hell. If you hadn’t taken away my throne, it would’ve been the real deal.”

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