Page 75 of Red

So much of her life had been mapped out because of the people around her, because of their choices, their wants.

“I’ll call him. We’ll set up a meet outside his house.” Erik pulled his phone out and dialed, walking to the windows of his office to look at the city bustling outside. Strangers strolled along the streets, hand in hand, oblivious to the turmoil boiling inside him. He couldn’t recall a time of such innocence anymore.

“Rawling.” Bertucci’s hard voice came through clear.

“Bertucci. You have my wife.” Erik kept his temper in check. Going off the rails would only succeed in getting the entire situation derailed.

A rough laugh. “I do. Yes.”

“I have her father.” Erik fisted his hand in his pocket. “That’s what you want, right? You want Manaforte?”

A short pause. “Thirty minutes. Meet outside the old toy factory on the South Side.”

“My brother.”

“He’ll be there.”

“If you hurt her—” Erik pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the anger to simmer down enough for him to control his voice.

“Not a scratch, I assure you.” Bertucci could be lying.

“Thirty minutes.” Erik clicked off the call and turned to the audience staring at him.

“So, what’s the plan?” Ian asked.

Erik caught Ash’s gaze and shook his head. “We make the switch.”

“You’re sending my son off to be killed.” Grams turned her fury on him.

“No. I’m protecting my wife. I’m doing whatever is needed to be sure she is safe and comes home. She will not pay for the sins of her father.” Erik pointed finger at her.

“Your wife?” Manaforte whispered. “You said that to Bertucci, too. You married her?”

Erik stood straight. “Yes.”

“Promise you’ll keep them both safe,” Grams said.

“Your son and your husband both failed Melinda,” Erik said. “I won’t.”

It wasn’t the promise she wanted, but it was the only one he could give with honesty. Melinda was his priority.

Her safety above all else.

Even his own.

Chapter 28

Melinda’s stomach hurt. Not the little butterfly dance you get when waiting to get on a roller coaster, but a true pain that lurched with every turn the car made. She’d be lucky not to vomit all over the back seat. Though Nico would deserve it, to have her puke in his lap.

When he’d come down to her cell, he’d given her a dress.You need to look good, Melinda. You can’t let Erik think you’ve been mistreated,he’d said. Mistreated? She’d been locked in a moldy, stinky cell in the pits of Bertucci’s estate. She’d been given food, and even some privacy to use the steel toilet in her room. At least she thought she had privacy. For all she knew there were hidden cameras in her prison.

The sun had already gone down, leaving the car dark and the street lamps the only illumination she could use to make out their positioning. Bertucci sat in the front passenger seat, his pimp hat perched on his overly fat head, and his suit freshly pressed. He could easily be mistaken for a wedding guest and not the incurable monster he truly was.

They weren’t in the heart of the city anymore. The buildings shortened then spaced out, until she could only make out factories and broken-down housing. They were on the south side of the river. There wouldn’t be anyone around at this time of day. Maybe a few factory workers, but they would know to mind their own business.

“Where are we going?” she asked again.

Nico sighed. “Don’t worry about it. This will be over soon. I promise.” He sounded tired. It probably took a lot more energy to betray your family than he had anticipated.

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