Page 56 of Sweet Retribution

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Stone is different. Or he’s more of the same. Hot then cold. Compassionate then aloof. I wish I could get inside that beautiful head of his and help him through the mental torment. I’m not a fool. His life’s mission has been to destroy my father, and now Antonio Rossi.

Killing isn’t something I condone, however the rage and vengeance behind Stone’s walls are heroic, at least to me. If his sole mission had been to kill Lorenzo Parisi, then his mission would have been complete weeks ago.

It isn’t, though. He’s quiet about his real purpose, but I’m not blind to it. He wants to free the innocent girls who have been abducted and put on the sex trafficking market. For that, I truly respect him. His mission has been bigger than revenge, even though he may not admit it.

He releases my hand and turns away from me, now distracted by his phone. I give him this as I know he is a private man who needs his alone time. Alone time he didn’t get last night or twenty minutes ago before leaving for this mission.

I’m not sorry about being a distraction. While making love, I truly believe Stone is distracted from the hate in the world, from the pain deep in his chest. I’m happy I’m able to give him the reprieve.

What I don’t like is how quickly the pain surfaces as soon as we’re not intimate. Even the simple act of holding hands seems to calm him. Now that we’re sitting next to each other and no longer touching, I can feel the tension radiating off his body.

I want to curl up in his lap and hold him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay. Instead, I turn away as well and stare out at the ocean as we drive down the bumpy roads leading to Stone’s private jet. When we’re on board, I take a seat toward the back giving him and his men privacy up front to discuss the details.

The adrenaline from my orgasm in his office, and from the comfort of his words holds my nerves at bay, but as we near our destination, my stomach begins to churn.

Whatever is going down is dangerous. That much is obvious by the stern lines between their brows and the quick glances each of Stone’s men cast me. Each of them, but never Stone. He hasn’t looked at me since he pulled out of me in his office.You’re so fucking beautiful,were the last words he spoke.

We’ve been flying over the Mediteranean for forty-five minutes, and now Sicily is in view. I’m not familiar with the direction of the plane as it hugs the south end of the country. We land in a narrow airstrip, and I unbuckle, following the men off the plane.

Stone steps aside and lets me go in front of him, behind his men. He places his hand politely on my lower back, ushering me down the short aisle. His touch is gentlemanly and nothing more. I want to step back into his warm chest, feel his arms around my center, but I don’t show any sign of weakness, any fear, as I march forward.

I stumble in my heels at the bottom of the steps, and he’s there to catch me. As soon as I’m righted, he lets go of me again, with the exception of his hand on my back guiding me to the waiting SUV.

Tension is high during the ride. Marco and Lucca are up front while Tio sits in the back with Stone and I. Stone still gives me the cold shoulder. I catch Tio’s sympathetic smile, as does Stone. He looks sternly at Tio, who drops the sympathy and gives me a cold shoulder as well.

Their silence speaks wonders, and it’s freaking me out.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I look to Stone first, then Tio. “Are you putting yourself in danger, Stone?”

They’re both silent and when I think he won’t answer, he finally says, “No.”

I’m not reassured by the curtness of his tone. The car slows, and Tio gets out, followed by Stone, who offers me his hand and quickly drops it the moment my two feet hit the dirt driveway.

A rustic, stone farmhouse sits in the middle of nowhere. The structure is incongruous to the four burly men in dark suits. A large field and woods make up the property, with no homes or people in sight. Next to our black SUV is another with dark, tinted windows.

Nervous prickles shoot up my spine. “Stone,” I whisper.

He ignores me and gives his men a quick nod. Marco takes the dirt path to the house first, followed by Lucca. Stone ushers me ahead of him and Tio. When we reach the covered porch, Stone brushes past me to the front.

Four white, wicker rocking chairs and planters overflowing with yellow and pink flowers make the space inviting, yet I feel anything but invited.

The front door opens and a tall man who looks like he can bench press the SUVs out front fills the space. Tattoos creep up from under the collar of this black shirt and work their way up his neck.

His head is shaven and tattooed, and he scares the shit out of me. I take a step back and bump into Tio, who no longer seems as rough and tough as this guy.

“Boss said two,” the hulking man growls.

“They’ll wait in the car,” Stone says.

“No dice.”

“Not until I see the product.”

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