Page 6 of Guarded By the Gargoyle

“Sorry,” I said coolly. “I haven’t seen anyone who fits that description. Maybe he ran into some other shop, further down the block.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he ran in here. Let’s just have a look in the back—maybe the little fucker is hiding.”

Carlo started to come around behind the counter but I blocked his way, very aware that the little boy was hiding behind my skirt.

“Sorry, you can’t go back there,” I said firmly. “That’s my private residence.”

Carlo gave me an incredulous look.

“What are you talking about? I been back there hundreds of times—I remember now. Back when your Grandpa was still around. Where is old Pop-pop anyway?”

I felt a stab of grief but tried to keep it from showing on my face.

“He died,” I said quietly. “About a year ago. Now please leave my shop—there’s nothing here for you.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Carlo was looking me up and down in that appraising way I used to dread when we were married. “You look hot in that Gypsy girl outfit,” he said to me. “Kind of whorish, but hot. Don’t know why I ever let you get away.”

My heart skipped a beat and not in a good way. Goddess above, whatever my Grandfather had done to him wasdefinitelywearing off. I needed to get him out of my shop before he decided he wanted me back.

“I really need to go now,” I told him. “It’s inventory day—you know how long that takes.”

He frowned.

“Thought you said you were just opening the shop?”

“I really need to get back to work,” I said, not answering his question. “Your shoplifter isn’t here so why don’t you go check some of the other shops in the row? He’s probably getting away.”

“Fuck yes—he probably is!” Josh exclaimed impatiently. “C’mon, Carlo—we need to go!”

He turned for the door, but my ex still lingered. He was staring at me as though he was fixing me in his mind—making sure he didn’t forget again.

“This isn’t over, babe,” he said.

“Yes, it is. We’re divorced,” I snapped. “Now pleaseleave.”

I knew the moment the words were out of my mouth they were a mistake. Carlo had always hated “mouthy women”—which meant any woman who disagreed with him.

“I don’t think so!” He stepped closer to me and grabbed my face in one big hand, pinching hard enough toreallyhurt. “I’ll leave when I’m Goddamned good and ready—not before. You got that,babe?”

Oh Goddess!Now my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to break right through my ribcage. I was having waves of flashbacks—horrible memories crowded my mind like bile. All the times he had hit me, beaten me, belittled me—it all came back like a wave of putrid water trying to drown me. I felt sick—like I might faint or throw up. My mind was a blur of panic.

“Josh!” I gasped, appealing to his partner. Sometimes he could rein Carlo in—not that he tried very often, I thought resentfully.

“Carlo, comeon.”His partner came over and put a hand on my ex’s shoulder. “We need to get going—that little fucker could be anywhere!”

Carlo ignored him.

“You know, for the life of me I can’t remember why I let you go,” he said, glaring into my eyes. “You were a pretty good fuck and I always liked your cooking—when you bothered to do it right. You’ve let yourself get fat but you could lose the weight—with the rightmotivation.”

To my shame, it was all I could do not to beg him to leave me alone. I hated to admit that he reduced me to blind panic but the way he was hurting me was bringing back so many bad memories!

Somehow, I managed not to beg.

“You’re hurting me,” I said instead, my voice coming out high and tight. His fingers and thumb were digging into the flesh of my cheeks—I was sure he was going to leave bruises on my pale skin.

“Carlo…” Josh said warningly. “You know what the Captain said—we need to avoid anyincidents—at least for a while.”

A surge of anger went through me almost eclipsing the panic—why was it that men like Carlo were allowed to keep on being assholes and nobody stopped them? Why did he keep getting away with it?

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