Page 34 of His Dark Vendetta

Dominic eyed me over his water bottle.

“What?” I asked.

He drained the bottle and picked up the empty pizza box. “You better clean up after yourself.”

I stuck out a hip and raised an eyebrow. “Or what? He’s going to kidnap me? Hold me hostage? Kill me?”

He snorted. “Just sayin’,Iwouldn’t poke that bear.”

I scoffed. “I’ll take my chances.” In fact, I’d do better than that. If I was going down, I’d make Luca as miserable as possible in the process.

Dominic held up his empty water bottle and the pizza box and backed up. “I’m going out for a smoke. Behave.”

I saluted him. “Roger Dodger!”

He chuckled, shaking his head, and walked out through the door to the garage.

The rumble of the automatic garage door jarred something loose. Like Pavlov’s dog, my eyes snapped to the French doors that led out to the deck. Dominic would be at least ten minutes. Plenty of time.

I dashed to the front door, pulled on my sneakers, and tried not to clomp my rubber soles against the wood floors on the way to the glass doors. I glanced over my shoulder toward the garage and stepped out onto the deck.

On my left, a massive grill with a black-vinyl cover. On my right, an empty ashtray on top of a round glass table surrounded by four chairs. Beyond that, two lounge chairs covered in clear plastic. Straight ahead, a breathtaking view of the Lynn Woods sloping down to Birch Pond. The sky was bright with no sign of rain, unusual for mid-April, and the calm water glinted beyond the tall pines. The clean, crisp air refreshed me and galvanized my resolve.

I placed my hands atop the wooden rail, peeked over the edge, and frowned. The deck didn’t lead to the manicured backyard you’d imagine in suburbia. The slope of the woods must have started at the house’s edge, because the deck was on stilts, and the drop between the balustrade and the ground was at least eight feet.

If walking in heels was an Olympic sport, I’d hold a record number of gold medals. Unfortunately, strutting my stuff in stilettos on a flat surface was as close to athletic as I came. That drop was probably no big for someone like Anna. She’d vault it and hit the ground running. For me, it was as daunting as stepping off the top floor of the Prudential building. But this deck was my only chance. I had to try.

I bent over the rail, and vertigo swept over me like a tsunami. The ledge of the Tobin Bridge rushed into focus and sent my world spinning. I closed my eyes and took two deep breaths. “Come on, Siobhán. You can do this. Stop being such a wuss. Just don’t look down.”

I twisted myself sideways and hugged my arms around the rail. I lifted my right leg and tried to get my foot onto the ledge. No dice. Add inflexible to scrawny and out of shape. The only thing I had working for me were my long legs.

I stood on my toes and managed to get my knee up. My breath came fast. I hugged the rail tighter, wiggled my right foot onto the rail, and dropped it over the side.

My stomach and chest pressed against the flat surface, my legs straddling the wood while my arms wrapped around it. I rested my cheek on the cool surface, needing a moment to catch my breath… and scowled.

Dominic leaned against the doorway to the deck, his arms crossed and shoulders shaking. He covered his mouth with his fist.

I laid there like a cat sunning herself, more annoyed than disappointed. “Enjoying the show?”

He dropped his fist and the amusement in his toothy grin reached his eyes. “Sorry, but that was way too entertaining to interrupt. I really wanted to see your next move.”

I glared at him. “Can you at least help me down?”

He chuckled. “Sure.”

He crossed the deck and offered his hand. I hung onto him like a life preserver, fighting a fresh wave of vertigo. I lifted my right leg back over the rail but couldn’t reach the deck with my left foot.

“Here,” Dominic said. Two strong hands clamped around my waist, lifted me off the rail, and set me on my feet.

I brushed the hair out of my face and straightened my spine, trying to maintain a semblance of dignity despite my pitiful attempt at escape. “Thank you.”

Dominic stepped to the side and held out an arm. “After you.”

I lifted my chin and marched back into the kitchen. With my shoes on. Fuck Luca.

Dominic closed the French doors, went into the living room, and turned on the TV.

I opened and closed cabinets, searching for what I needed to boil noodles and make my sad excuse for a lunch.

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