Page 53 of Consumed By the Mafia

Abigail blinked.

Ryoma snorted. “You brought Miguel? He must bethrilled.”

Mikey shrugged and started toward the tall shelving unit against the far wall. “He was promised he wouldn’t have to do field work as long as he kept up with what I throw at him. No one ever said he’d never have to drive.” He selected a wicked-looking curved knife with a blade about the length of his hand and faced the room again. “Now, I need to be finished before the cleaners get here, so you should get going. It’s my turn.”

Abigail felt her stomach twist, her gaze trailing from the knife to the figure who’d long since stopped following their dialogue. She didn’t reallywantto imagine what Mikey intended to do with that thing.

Ryoma curled his fingers around her arm and let his touch slide down until their hands were joined. “C’mon, Abby, let’sgo. Once we ditch the bloody clothes, we can get some food and get back to work.” He led her from the torture room with one final nod in Mikey’s direction, and at the end of the hall they found two more men.

Both of those men settled narrow-eyed glares on her.

Abigail laced her fingers with Ryoma’s.

“Shit,” the younger male said. He scrubbed a hand through dark hair. “I was really hopin’ M was pulling my chain about playing chaperone.”

Ryoma let out a low chuckle. “You know him better than that. We need to get back to the office.”

The older male’s scowl deepened. “Not her.”

Abigail bit her cheek to contain her irritated sigh.

Ryoma had no such compunction. “Sorry, I missed the ‘De Salvo’ on the end of your name. Where are you in the birth order?” He jerked his free thumb over his shoulder, in the direction they’d come from. “’CausethatDe Salvo toldusto go back to the office and regroup. So if you’re overriding him, you must outrank him, right?”

The older male curled his lips, obviously angered.

The younger one snickered and shoved him in the arm with an elbow. “You’re an ass.” He stepped forward, angling himself around his companion, and said, “Let’s get the hell outta here, then.”

Ryoma guided them in the other man’s wake without saying a word to their grumpier associate.

Abigail couldn’t help but flash the jerk a sarcastic smile as they passed him. She might have understood whythe De Salvo family men were uncomfortable with her around, but she was absolutely done with other people’s bullshit.

“I’ll drive you as far as the office,” the man she presumed to be Miguel said after they climbed into his SUV. “You can eat there or pick somethin’ up on the way, I don’t care. Obviously, you know we’ve got a stash of clothes you can change into. But I am not drivin’ you all over fucking everywhere. I’m already into overtime and I want to go home.”

Ryoma huffed out something that might have been a more genuine, if not short-lived, laugh. “I can’t even fathom the luxuries of living this life from behind a desk.” He recaptured Abigail’s hand. “Just make sure there’s a car I can use and we’re good.”

“Of course there’ll be a car,” Miguel said. He swung the SUV into motion.

Abigail caught herself staring at the large, calloused hand holding onto hers and the sleeve of colored ink that extended up his arm. Ryoma’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her with their meaning. He couldn’t imagine deskwork because he lived his life in the field. Stalking, chasing, extracting information, and ultimately ending the threats to his found family. She didn’t need to know details to know that much.

She also understood that life was a dangerous one. Rife with violence and the dangling threat of a true, more upright law than she herself was capable of representing. The life he lived could be ripped away and ended at any given moment, and yet from what he said, she gathered it was all he really knew.

Ryoma gave her hand a squeeze, drawing her attention moments before he whispered to her in lower, huskier voice thanhe had any right to be using. “You really impressed me in there, baby girl.”

Abigail felt a shiver dance down her spine and swallowed hard. She leaned closer and turned her gaze to him, searching for something. Something she wasn’t likely to find, since she had no name for it. “What was that about you taking a bullet earlier?”

Ryoma blinked for a second before his lips lifted in a teasing grin. “Did that bother you?”

She frowned. “Yes.”

He brought the back of her hand to his lips without breaking eye-contact, kissing her knuckles slowly. “The guy Rush accused me of killing,” he finally said as he lowered her hand once more. “He took a desperate shot at Brandi about a month ago, but I was standing in the way.”

Abigail’s mouth fell open. That explained Mikey’s comment, but it didn’t do a lot for giving her peace of mind.

“Hit me square in the chest,” Ryoma continued. He indicated with his free hand.

She was shaking her head before she knew it. “There’s no way—”

“He was wearing Kevlar,” Miguel cut in, talking over her, “all he got was a bruise.”

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