Page 25 of Merciless Attraction

“You’re out of line, Melanie.”

“You OWE me, Antonio. I looked the other way.”

“You were PAID to look the other way,” I snarl back at her.

She grins. “Prove it.”

I’m ready to blow my top, shout, and demand her understanding that me asking for a leave of absence isn’t an excuse to let some head-hunter find a position for me at a different hospital. But the only way she’d understand is if I told her the truth, the entire truth. That’s not going to happen.

The incessant vibration of my phone ringing in my pocket steals my attention. I know we need to finish this in order for me to keep my job, but it won’t stop ringing.

“You’d better not take that call right now.” Melanie threatens as I stand.

It’s Gemma and my heart races as I go against Melanie’s order.

“What’s wrong?” I ask Gemma as panic fills every ounce of my body.

Her breathing is ragged, and voice comes in a harsh whisper. “He’s following me. I’m in the biggest garage across from the pier. Oh no. He’s getting closer.”

The call disconnects and I rush toward the door with Melanie shouting something as I leave. I’m certain it’s an ultimatum of some sort, but I can’t worry about my boss right now. Our entire relationship has been a lie.

Fortunately, the hospital isn’t far from Pier 39 as I hop in my car to head to the area. There’s a guard at the security booth when I pull inside the large parking garage, but all he does is point at the hours of operation.

He shouts from behind the glass. “No parking overnight, buddy. We’ve already towed cars out of here, man.”

“I’m looking for a woman, blonde, about five-five, she might be in trouble,” I tell him.

He looks over his shoulder at a security camera monitor and shakes his head. “Don’t see anything man but go ahead and look. You got fifteen minutes.”

Asshole.

I send a text to Gemma’s phone, trying to figure out if she’s still in this garage somewhere. She calls me back immediately.

“Where are you?” I ask her.

“I’m on the third or fourth level? I got turned around,” she whispers. “I think my car’s on the top floor.”

“Gemmmaaaa...” A voice sings from the distance.

She gasps and so do I before I tell her. “I’m on my way. I’m driving around to the third level now.”

I honk the horn and flick my high beams as I drive around the third floor. It isn’t until I drive up the ramp to the fourth that I spot Gemma sprinting toward me and a hooded figure hanging around a few yards away. After throwing the car’s gearshift into Park , I get out and chase the guy down.

“Get in my car and stay there!” I shout at Gemma as I haul ass after the man with the shadowy face.

I can hear his panting breaths mirroring mine as we both run at breakneck speed. He has too much of a lead ahead of me as he ducks into a stairwell. By the time I crash into the door, there’s only silence. I don’t hear anyone running up or down the stairs. There aren’t any doors slamming and the asshole taunting Gemma disappears into the night.

I walk out of the stairwell to see Gemma driving my car slowly toward me. I hate failing and this is the second time I let this asshole get away. My ego isn’t easily bruised, but my duty to protect Gemma feels like a task I’m not suited for. It’s a slap in the face to everything I’ve been through to fail at something as simple as this.

“Are you alright?” I ask her as she gets out to let me drive. The absurdity in the question isn’t lost on me, but it’s the only thing I can think of.

My eyes vigorously scan our surroundings. I’m practically wishing for that asshole to make another appearance. I’ll beat him into the ground the way I should have done Frankie. It’s been a long time, but I’m sure my hands are still as lethal as they were in prison.

Gemma snickers and bites her lower lips as she slides into the passenger seat. “I’m alive. I can’t believe this is all happening because I fingered a bullet hole.”

“What?” I ask since her answer is even more absurd than my question.

“Me and Natalie were waiting in line for the bathroom at Trips the other night. There are bullet holes in the wall, and they just painted over them.” She bristles with disgust. “People died in that club. Maybe not during the shoot out, but I’m more than aware of my family’s feud with Don Vito Dacosta.”

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