Page 17 of Reluctant Surrender

“Get a hold of them.” I grabbed my keys from my desk drawer. “Tell them to get their asses up to her apartment. If she’s there, keep her there. And if she’s not… fucking find her!”

Chapter 8

Maggie

The grocery store on the corner of my street had been completely out of tomatoes. Who didn’t keep tomatoes in stock? I had to walk three blocks down to another store to get ripe tomatoes and thick-cut bacon for the BLT sandwich I craved.

Since the sun was still out and not a cloud was in sight, I had been able to leave my jacket at home. Having the warm sun rays beat down on me as I made my way home had been refreshing.

I’d barely slept the night before. Every sound, every creak, or knock on a door somewhere in the building had jerked me awake. After the mess at the card game, my nerves had a hard time settling back down.

Sammy Bertonelli wouldn’t find me. He had no idea of my real name, or where I lived, or any of my associates. Even if he asked Johnny, all he’d get was a cell number to a burner phone that I tossed last night on my way home. But nothing would get the sound of the gun going off outside out of my head.

They’d shot Stanley in the back yard. Anyone could have seen them, and the neighbors had to have heard it. The boldness of doing something like that meant they didn’t fear being caught. So, if Sammy did find me…

No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

I pushed my sunglasses up to the top of my head as I walked down my street. It wasn’t the nicest of neighborhoods, but there were a lot of trees lining the way. As I reached my apartment building, a loud roar of a motorcycle interrupted the otherwise quiet of the Sunday afternoon.

“Maggie!” Lukas’ booming voice carried to me from where he pulled his bike between two cars. I had one foot on my steps when his hulking form jumped off his bike and headed straight for me.

I shifted the bag of groceries to my left hand and threw on a smile. There was no mistaking his expression. He was pissed. And for whatever reason, I wanted to soothe the tension before he reached me.

“Ah, you’re in time for lunch. I was just about to make BLTs.” I raised my cloth grocery bag. It did nothing to calm him.

“Get inside. Now.” He snatched the bag from me and grabbed my arm.

“Let go.” I tugged, but he had a firm grip. “Jesus, Lukas. Calm down. Whatever the problem is, it can’t be that bad.”

He stopped one step above me on the stairs leading to my apartment and looked back at me. If I had been made of glass, I would have shattered into a thousand pieces all over the stairwell with his look.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when he tugged me again up the stairs. But he wouldn’t answer me. “Lukas!” I jerked out of his grip once we stepped off the stairs onto my floor.

He spun around, pushing me back against the wall. His hand flew up to my face, grabbing my chin and hauling my head back.

“Not a fucking word until we’re in your apartment.” His hot breath washed over my face. The darkness of his eyes sent a chill down my spine. “Do you understand me?”

I tried to nod, but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Say the words.” His nostrils flared. The man wasn’t a little upset. He was pissed. And every ounce of his anger was aimed at me.

“I understand. Not a word.” My cheeks ached beneath the punishing pinch of his fingers.

He stared at me a long moment then let me go. “Inside now.” He jerked his head, signaling me to get into my apartment.

I yanked out my keys from my pocket and jiggled one into the lock. As soon as the bolt slid to the side, he grabbed me and shoved me behind him.

“Lukas—” I was cut off short as he shoved the door to my apartment open, pulled a Glock from the back of his jeans, and barged into my apartment. I followed behind, shutting the door and bolting it.

“Lukas, there’s no one here,” I assured him as he swept the entire place. It didn’t take him long. The only other room beside where we stood was the bedroom and the bathroom. When he was finished, he stepped back out into the kitchen area, tucking his gun away.

I dropped the bag on the counter. “What is going on?” I asked, moving my jaw from side to side.

“You swore to me you weren’t doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. You promised.” He pointed a stern finger at me.

Fuck.

He knew.

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