Page 45 of Charity's Redemption

Looks like the phone store was in my future. I hated shopping.

Dropping my phone onto my nightstand, I peeled off my clothes and changed into something new. Even though Luca had them cleaned, I didn’t feel like wearing the same clothes I did yesterday and, if I recall, even the day before that.

I pulled up my jeans, careful to avoid brushing them over my tender ass, then buttoned them and slipped on my shoes.

Tallying up my mental to-do list, I grunted. I need sticky notes. This was a nightmare, having to remember all of this.

To-do one: get a new phone.

To-do two: check on the coffee shop.

To-do three: kill Adams.

To-do four: deal with the fallout from a dead John named John and pray Luca’s declaration of love means something.

To-do five: pray that Arturo doesn’t hate me and doesn't take me off his visitor’s list.

I’m sure there was more to it, but I’d forgotten already. It’ll come to me, eventually.

Rounding my bed, I pulled my useless phone from the charger and tried the power button again—still nothing. Tucking the dead brick in my back pocket, I walked out of my bedroom, and picked up the licked-clean dish from the floor, then placed it in the dishwasher.

As if Cannoli sensed there was something amiss with me, he wrapped his body around my legs and purred, his meow infiltrating my gloom.

“What are you intuitive or something?”

He stood on his hind end and stretched his front paws up my body as far as they’d go and meowed. “You really are a needy whore, you know that?” I patted him on the head. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back.”

I hope.

Walking back into my garage, I climbed into my car and sped away to the closest phone store.

To-do item numberone, check.

With my new phone in my pocket and one infatuated employee, I walked out of the store with a bonus wireless charger and screen protectors.

Five missed texts from Luca came in one right after the other when they transferred my service over, letting me know that with every silent moment he received from me, the more his fury grew. He was a ticking time bomb, and I was the only technician who could diffuse him. The only dilemma… Max sent me away without a plan to fix it.

And what was Max doing to fix this? The more I went without speaking to Luca, the more he stewed with anger. Wasn’t Max supposed to ‘take care of it.’ Didn’t he promise me?

Instead, I’d pissed off an Italian Mafia boss, and now he’s hunting me down around the city. If I thought my punishment was bad for killing Morgan Gill, I couldn’t imagine what he had in store for me, thinking I’d pulled off two unsanctioned hits.

Aggravation ate at me as I slammed my car door shut and drove towards the coffee shop, surprised to see a line streaming out the door. I parked my car along the street and squeezed my way inside.

“What the fuck happened here?” I asked Justine, who worked the register like her fingers were on fire.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad to see you.” She paused and wrapped her arms around me, then wiped her hair away from her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand as she pulled away. “We’re slammed and need someone to make coffees.”

I glanced back at Caroline, who was too busy to glance my way.

“Okay.”

This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I would check on the shop, but I didn’t want disgruntled customers or employees.

I wrapped an apron around my waist, then got started on the backlog of coffees with creamer, some with foam, others with no sugar. It still amazes me how many different ways there were to drink a fucking cup of coffee.

Three hours passed when the last customer walked out the door. With a rumbling belly, I snatched the last muffin and took a big bite, then moaned as the chocolate coated my tongue with its sweet, milky flavor. I’d barely survived the lunch rush with nothing in my belly. There were times it’d growl so loud; it sounded like a lion tearing through my gut.

I took another bite, then another, holding up my hand when Justine opened her mouth to speak.

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