Page 102 of The Woman in the Garage

“I think there are zip ties in the laundry room,” I called to Giulia.

She ran off to search, coming back a moment later with the package. She’d just managed to get David’s wrists cuffed with three zip ties as he started to groan beneath me.

He came awake like a caged animal—writhing, thrashing, and making me slip around in the lukewarm sauce and ravioli as I tried to keep him down.

I was worried I was about to lose the battle when, suddenly, there were footsteps rushing in through the front of the house.

“Santo?” a man called.

Then, almost at the same time, the back door flew open.

“Dasha?”

I looked up to see Massimo running into the kitchen, a gun raised. “Ma?” he asked after quickly taking in the man on the floor beneath me.

“Mass,” Giulia said. “Aurelio,” she added, nodding to the other man.

“Aunt G, what are you doing here?” Aurelio asked. He tucked his gun away. Massimo kept his out.

“I got the alert.”

“And decided to serve the fucker ravioli?” Mass asked, lips twitching.

“I was on the way to August’s house with lunch. The ravioli had to be sacrificed,” Giulia said, giving me a soft look.

“Dasha, hon, how about you let me take him?” Aurelio asked, moving closer.

“Oh, sure. Of course,” I said, accepting Massimo’s hand to help me onto my feet in the slippery sauce.

Then Aurelio reached down and lifted David to his feet in an impressive feat of strength.

“Santo?” another voice called.

In rushed another Massimo, Dante, and Santo lookalike. The oldest brother, Nino. “Ma?” he asked, jerking to a stop.

“Bring your car into the garage,” Aurelio said, struggling with a wriggling David.

“Fuck you. I’m gonna fucking—“

That was another threat he didn’t get to finish.

Because Giulia raised her trusty skillet and whacked him in the head again, making him go immediately limp.

“Ma!” Mass called.

“Nice shot,” Aurelio said at almost the same time, dragging a now unconscious David toward the door to the garage.

“None of us wanted to listen to his empty threats,” Giulia said, shrugging.

“Where is Santo?” Massimo asked, looking around, his gaze settling on me.

“He’s… working. You know… with Dante and Dom.”

To that, Mass nodded. He tucked his gun away.

“Alright. You alright? Did he hurt you?”

“Just my hair,” I said, reaching up to rub my aching scalp.

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