Page 68 of Make You Mine

“Why the fuck are they here, Hugo?” Joey spits as he eyes Nico and the men surrounding him.

“I told them you wanted a discussion. You said they’re becoming a problem. Figured we’d talk it out like men,” Hugo says, his arms splaying wide.

“Don’t tell me you’re selling out to this group of wanna-be mobsters? You think Nico is to be trusted. Fucking piece of shit abandoned his responsibilities…his family, no less, when shit got too hard. That pussy is worthless, and if you think for one second, I'm going to sit down and discuss issues with the likes of them, you’re more of a clown then they say you are.”

Holy fucking shit. Has Joey lost his damn mind? You don’t speak to a boss like that.

Joey’s grip shifts behind me, and I whimper at the angle my arm is being bent.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he seethes, and before I know it, for the second time today, a barrel of a gun is pressed against my temple.

“Nooo!” I hear Trent shout, emotion nearly choking him. When I glance his way, I see Micah holding him back. My eyes plead with his to stand down.I love you,I mouth to him. His green eyes shine with fury.

“Joey, tell me. What makes you think you can call me, arrange a meeting, disrupt my day, and then disrespect me like that amongst my men?”

Hugo goes to step toward where Joey, Nicky, and I stand on one side of the room. Joey pulls me back a step with him, placing his body behind mine.Coward.

Hugo tsks. “I thought you knew better.” He flicks his eyes in Nicky’s direction, and within seconds, Nicky whips out his gun and fires a round into the side of Joey’s head. His hands go limp around my arms as his body slumps to the floor.

With my breath catching, I close my eyes as tears of relief come over me, just as Nicky comes behind me and unbinds my wrists. As soon as I’m free, I run full force into Trent’s waiting arms, where he holds on to me like he might not ever physically let me go. Kissing him deeply, I melt into him, not giving a fuck who’s around to witness it.

Trent’s palms encircle my face as he assesses my injuries. “Are you okay?”

I nod as he kisses every mark that I'm sure mars my face. I hear Nico and other men conversing with Hugo, but I pay them no mind. When I'm in his arms, all the backgroundnoise just fades away, like it always does. Like we’re in our own little bubble.

“You’re alive,” I say in disbelief, as the fortified walls I had built up come crumbling down now that I know he is safe.

Trent wraps his arm around me, his body trembling along with my own. “I thought I lost you for good this time. I was so fucking scared, baby,” he whispers into my hair, and more tears fall down my cheeks.

“I'm here… I'm okay.” But he ignores my words and holds on to me tighter.

Once my nerves begin to settle from the safety of Trent’s arms, I key into the conversations around me.

From what I’m picking up, Nicky was once employed by the Amato family and was brought into the Santini compound for extra security measures. Seems like a few of the families were making moves to take Junior out. No one trusted him.

After a gentleman’s handshake, Nico approaches Trent and me. “Well, Bishop just confirmed Giovanni Santini Jr. is dead.”

I could have told them that… I watched the life drain from his eyes.

“Are you certain?” Micah rings out from beside us.

“Yeah, I want to see that piece of shit’s dead body,” Trent says.

“Yes, he died during the transport. Bled out from the chest wound,” he confirms, then adds, “Bishop and his crew caught up with them at the doc’s. Vito’s taken care of as well.”

“I wonder who got the shot off? Can’t say I don’t wish it was me. I wanted to be the one to kill that motherfucker, and then let Nori rip him to shreds all over her front lawn.” I watchTrent’s fist clench at the thought, then his green eyes meet mine. “Speaking of Nori, we found him locked in the closet?”

My poor boy, I bet he was so worried. “Is he okay?”

“He will be happy to see you, but he’s fine. One of The Saints is a vet, and he has him right now.”

The guys stare at me for a minute, putting the pieces together. “So, the blood in your sewing room, that was Junior’s?” Micah questions knowingly.

I nod as a sick smirk I’m not at all ashamed of takes over.

Trent’s eyes search mine in awe. “You shot him… You killed him?”

My face must be sporting a ‘you’re damn right’ expression because Trent’s arms are around me once more, pulling me in close.

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