Page 12 of Consumed By the Mafia

The man threw a hand toward Silva, his arm shaking faintly but the signal no less clear. Silva had started to say something he wasn’t supposed to.

Abigail would have loved to stay and listen, but she wasn’t under the delusion that the situation would become amicable when Bren caught his breath. So she twisted in place and sprinted for the nearest clear crosswalk, putting a street between them as quickly as she could. She also firmly believed that if Silva figured out the name she was going by, he would follow through on his threat of sending someone after her.

What she hadn’t anticipated was realizing she was being followed even several blocks and two sharp corners later. But she definitely was. Whoever the man behind her was, he’d fallen in shortly after she’d escaped Silva and his friend, and he hadn’t broken off. Her gut said that wasn’t a coincidence.

The street she needed to get home was in sight, but she wasn’t leading someone who meant her harm back to her apartment. So she veered the opposite way at the crosswalk and slipped her phone from her purse once more. The reflection in her screen assured her that her new shadow hadn’t fallen behind at the last moment.

The sprinting had winded her, particularly after the indulgent breakfast. She didn’t want a confrontation. Nor did she want to break cover. So she did the next best, next most logical thing. She scrolled down to her new boyfriend’s contact and embraced the unplanned opportunity.

Ryoma answered on the second ring. “Is this youmissing me?”

Her lips twitched despite the situation.He’s ridiculous.She already felt like such a bitch for what she had to do. “Remember when your mere presence protected me from creeps?”

There was a beat of hesitation, as if her question caught him off-guard. Which was fair. “I do.”

“Does that extend beyond the bar?” The downside of making a call was that it was harder to tell the distance between her and her tail, so Abigail did what she could to keep on non-deserted streets. She moved herself up close to the wall to minimize her vulnerabilities and switched her phone to that ear in the interest of maintaining some range of sight.

When Ryoma spoke again, his voice had hardened in way she wasn’t used to. A way that sent a thrill she had no right to shooting straight through her. “Are you in trouble?”

It was adrenaline that had her heart racing this time. Not the new tone of his voice or the implications in his question. “I think so,” she said honestly. “I had a strange encounter, and now I’m being followed. So I can’t go home.”

She heard the sound of his engine in the beat before he spoke again. “Where are you?”

Her gaze swept outward and she read off the nearest street signs.

“I’m not far from there,” Ryoma said. “Cross the street at the next intersection. There should be a used bookstore at the corner, get inside if you can.”

A bookstore?Abigail glanced over her shoulder, noting that her follower had picked up speed. “I’ll do what I can,” she said, quickly looking forward again. The call disconnected but she kept her phone gripped firmly in hand and swept her gaze out,searching. The intersection was just up ahead, one more block. She could only hope the brick building set back from the street on the other side was the bookstore.

She poured a little more speed into her legs as the intersection neared, waiting as long as she could to adjust course for the angle she wanted. When she did, she was almost positive she heard the man behind her mutter a curse. He didn’t seem to like her change of course, but even that wasn’t enough to keep him from pursuing her.

The building she’d spotted was definitely a bookstore. The main entrance faced the side street, which meant veering wide at the corner. She had no idea why Ryoma had told her to go into a small, low-traffic store, but she was running out of time just trying to out-walk whoever was chasing her. She had hold of the handle to the heavy wooden door, and she could see movement through the patterned glass, when her head was jerked back by her hair.

Abigail let out a genuinely startled cry, stumbling backward until the door was out of reach again.

“We’re not goin’ in there, bitch,” said a grumpy male voice she didn’t recognize.

Abigail attempted to twist free, or close enough to land a blow on her assailant, but he moved with her enough to make her efforts useless. She sucked in a breath, stilled for a beat, and shot back a foot to stomp down on his. It was less effective, but admittedly somewhat satisfying when he grunted. She was finally able to reach behind her and wrench the hand from her hair, spinning fully around and nearly taking a swiping hand to her face as a result.

“Damn whore!”

“You’re really arrogant,” Abigail said, barely registering something slamming in the background, “if you think just because Chief Silva’s on your side that means you’re untouchable.”

The man’s lip curled and he took a large step forward, into her personal space. His hands clenched into fists. “You don’t know—”

Ryoma shoved himself between them, an arm went up, and the other man’s hands went lax as Ryoma started walking forward, putting distance between them and Abigail. When he spoke, Ryoma’s voice retained the hard edge he’d held over the phone. In person, it sounded much more dangerous. “You got some balls on you, chasing down my woman in broad fucking daylight.” He pinned the man to the bookstore’s wall, and only then could Abigail see that he had the man by the throat. “I’m gonna let up the pressure, and you’re gonna tell me who you work for and what the fuck you’re after. I won’t ask a second time. Nod if you understand.”

Abigail felt breathless, her heart racing again.Holy shit.She knew what she was witnessing was not, in itself, proof of a larger organization. But it sure as hell read like one. It felt like she was on the precipice of the biggest lead she’d had since this damn mission had started the previous fall.

She watched her assailant’s chin dip in a slow nod.

“Smart choice.” Ryoma’s arm slackened almost imperceptibly. “Talk.”

The man coughed, making no effort to reach for the hand still at his throat or for any kind of weapon. Then, finally, he spat on the concrete and said, “Fuck you, Jap.”

Ryoma sighed as if he were disappointed and the door to the bookstore swung open, a set of bells chiming briefly in odd punctuation to the moment.

Abigail glanced over, her eyes blowing wide at the sight of three men stepping out with guns drawn. One of the men was notably older, and walked with a custom cane. She thought he might have been the one she’d glimpsed through the glass.

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