Page 21 of Garrison's Creed

Roman’s swollen lip was split in the middle. He had a black eye forming, and his knuckles hung at his side, raw. Cash turned from the TV, looking just as messed up. Both of his eyes were swollen.

They’d thrown down because of her. The two most important people in her life—whether they knew it or not—had beaten the crap out of each other. All because her op went bad, and they knew about her. How did she not hear them fight?

“Goddamn you both.”

“What?” All three men played stupid. An urge to smack each one across the head tickled her palm.

“You all are morons.” She hopped to the kitchen, wrote down her contact info, and continued. “Should you care, here’s how you can get a hold of me. Grow the fuck up.”

Rocco interjected. “Nicola, they did what they had to do. They’re fine.”

“They’re assholes.”

“They’re men. And it’s done.”

“I’ll be down the block, at my pick-up location.”

Roman walked toward her. “You’re barefoot.”

“Maybe stupidity runs in the family.”

“Let me give you a ride.” Her brother shrugged.

“No. I’m not compromising the safe house, and I’m not compromising you.”

“You can stop with the ‘I’m-going-to-protect-you’ bullshit. I’m more than capable of watching my ass, kiddo.”

“I’m done with you two today. You can call me later.” She turned for the door, and looked over her shoulder. Roman remained in place. Rocco was back to watching television, but Cash remained silent, watching her, still breaking her heart. “Bye, Roman, Rocco.” She paused, trying to swallow the pain. It hurt to walk away from him again. “Cash… bye.”

***

Ouch. Maybe Nicola should’ve let Roman give her a ride. This sidewalk had way more gravel than her busted foot needed. She hopped over another stone. In the land of manicured lawns and matching Range Rovers, someone should really take care of their gravel issues.

She rounded the corner and waited on the park bench. No cell phone, but at least Rocco had given back her gun. Like a thugged-out gangster, she tucked it into the waistband of the men’s sweatpants. Everything she wore smelled like Cash. Sitting there, ignoring the previous night’s events, it was the only thing she noticed.

Her first stop would be the nearest Target or Walmart for footwear and clothes. There was no way she was going anywhere dressed like the aftermath of a one-night stand with a gym rat.

A blacked out SUV rolled up, a little early, but fitting the right description. The window rolled down. A pleasant looking woman Nicola had never seen before smiled.

“Gabriella? So nice to see you again after our play date with Beth.”

Code words, ding, ding. Play date and Beth. Nicola smiled and responded as directed by her handler. “My car broke down. Could you take me to the service station?”

Ding, ding again. The woman unlocked the door, and she crawled in. Thank God her traveling companion was a woman. Maybe there would be some camaraderie when she asked for a clothing related pit stop.

“Gabriella.” The familiar voice made her skin tighten. The butler. He was in the backseat. Nicola jumped forward, her breath punched from her lungs. The door locks secured.

“Why are you here?” she demanded.How is this happening?

The butler’s face smiled. “What happened last night?”

Nicola’s hand went to the door. “Pull over. Now!”

The driver stared at her like she’d spouted purple slime from her ears. “What?”

“Pull over.”

“Gabriella? Are you okay?” the butler asked. “My name’s David. We’re the team pulling you out.”

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