Page 67 of The Trap

“Good, then you’ll be especially pleased with what I have planned next for us this evening,” I grin, walking to the passenger side door to let her in.

Closing the door behind her, I quickly reach for my phone to text Carmine.

Me: We’re en route.

Moretti: Excellent. You sure you don’t need the warehouse.

Adrenaline floods me as I type.

Me: Nope, I’ve got it covered.

Moretti: Very good.

Moretti: See you at dinner Saturday =)

Moretti: News travels fast in this family. You left a good impression on Titi Rose, Demonio.

Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I remind myself of the promise I made Raiden. It’s one that I intend to keep, just so I can prove to her that she makes everything in my life better. Even if it means blood must be shed, I don’t give a damn. For her, anything is worth it.

EPILOGUE II

“Why are we here? Carmine wanted us to go to the warehouse,” I point out as Colson glides his open palm on the steering wheel, turning into the long driveway of the Cromwell Estate. The iron gates open once he punches in the code, and we remain in silence for what feels like an eternity as we drive up the expansive cement.

“Colson,” I breathe his name before reaching over the center console, settling my hand on his thigh. “What’s the matter?” I ask, sensing his tension.

“Nothing, mama. I just need to do something.” He tries to reassure me, but his cryptic tone is doing nothing to convince me he’s okay.

Hand in hand, we walk in silence until we reach the front door. Reaching for the lighter in his back pocket, he takes it out, flicking the dial. “I hate it here,” he states, staring at the lingering flame. “Everything about this fucking place, I despise it,” he continues, this time releasing the dial, extinguishing the flame. Still holding my hand, he moves forward so his back presses against the front door, pulling me in closer. I crash into his chest, and he wastes not even a second to steal a kiss. Our lipsfind solace in each other’s. My tongue slithers into his mouth, barbell unintentionally tapping on his front tooth. “Ouch,” he laughs against my lips.

“Oops,” I tease, continuing to kiss him. “Go ahead, continue. Tell me why we’re back in the house of horrors.” My words are playful but this place truly is what nightmares are made of.

He doesn’t respond, instead moving us away from the door enough that he can swoop me into his arms. Tossing me over his shoulder, he lays a firm tap on my ass before opening the front door and carrying me in.

His baritone vibrates my torso draped over his shoulder. “You’ll see.” Great, more cryptic words.

My eyes roll. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Carmine; his riddles are starting to rub off on you,” I point out as he walks us down the hallway, and as we break the threshold of the dining room, I hear something or someone scream beneath the floor.

“Wait,” I slap at his backside, but he doesn’t stop walking. “Colson, I heard something,” I announce, but he fucking ignores me.

Agitated, I start kicking my feet, but it still doesn’t grab his attention. If anything, he squeezes me to him tighter.

“Puta madre,” I rasp.

Slap.

“Colson, you better–”

Slap.

“Ah, you impossible man! Stop spanking me!” I yelp out, trying to suppress the giggle that wants to come out from how ridiculous that sounds.

“Why, mentirosa? Don’t you like when I spank you?”

Yes.

“No,” I lie, earning me another flat palm to my ass that is literally aching for him to fuck it, eat it, something…anything but tease me.

Rounding the table, he lifts me off his shoulder, placing me on the table where he always sat.

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