Page 101 of Taking Care of the Target

The jury didn’t seem as charmed by him as he’d hoped. For the first time since this whole ordeal started, he worried he might be convicted. Well, even if the worst-case scenario happened, he’d go down swinging, and he’d have his revenge.

“I can’t have that girl testifying—she’ll ruin the doubts you raised with Vince,” Carlo said. “And I can’t overlook the way he turned on me. You got a verbal confirmation, right? Not just a message?”

Uffizi nodded.

“And they know to take in a lot of firepower, that Vince isn’t to be underestimated?”

His lawyer nodded again.

“Good. Relax. By tomorrow morning, your job of defending me is going to be that much easier, and I’ll be happier to boot. It’s all win for you.”

During the many years he’d worked with Uffizi, the lawyer had always taken the large sums of money and done as asked, no qualms. The qualms over carrying out this request were written all over his face. More proof that everyone thought they wanted the top spot until they had to get their hands dirty.

Right now Carlo wished he could get his hands dirtier. He preferred dishing out vengeance personally, but the guys he had Uffizi contact would take care of everything. And after they were done, everyone would know that even behind bars, Carlo Rossi wasn’t someone you wanted to cross.

Chapter Forty-Six

Cassie lay in bed, wishing she could sleep. Vince had no problem drifting off—he’d been asleep for a good hour now. For most of the day, he tried to distract her from the shock of being so close to testifying only to have to wait.

I’ll testify on Friday morning, and Mr. Rossi will still end up behind bars. And as soon as the trial’s over, Vince and I can move on and have a normal life.

That was one of the ways he distracted her as she ranted about the crappy situation and the extra hours of stress. He told her about the little house he imagined living in together, and how he’d make sure it had a nice kitchen for her to work her magic in. Talking did help, so she told him more about the Hursts and Deanne and Oklahoma, and how they needed to stop by and tell them she was okay when they could.

Then Vince took her upstairs to the bedroom and distracted her with his hands, mouth, and body.

An icy breeze floated over her, making her shiver. After all the crazy hot sex, Cassie didn’t think she’d ever cool down, so she’d cracked the window. The temperature had definitely plummeted in the last hour or so. She eyed the open window, debating if it was worth scooting out from under Vince’s arm to close it. Maybe she’d just snuggle in tighter.

She found the corner of the bedspread and pulled it over her as she wiggled closer, her back now flush against his warm chest. Finally, her muscles relaxed and her eyes drifted closed.

Right before her body tipped over the edge of sleep, to that magical place where her body became one with the mattress and the sexy guy she was sharing a bed with, she heard a brief shout. Followed by a deafening silence.

She shot up in bed, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. She listened, but only heard the usual sound of traffic in the distance.

“What is it, baby?” Vince asked.

“I thought I heard something. It might just be someone outside, but—”

Vince sprang into action, not even waiting for her to state her worries. He stepped into his jeans as she threw on clothes, and then he grabbed his gun. She picked up hers and took off the safety.

“I’ll go check it out,” Vince said. “You stay in the corner, gun out, and shoot anyone who comes in that you don’t—”

“No way. I’m not going to sit here while you go and get yourself killed. We’re in this together. You’re going to need some help, and I can help.” Cassie slipped on her backpack. “Now, let’s get Bobby, and if we need to, we’ll find another place to hide out until the trial’s over.”

For all of her tough talk, her gut dropped as they exited the bedroom. If she heard what she thought she had…

Just focus on the here and now. Worry about who might be hurt later.

Vince crept to Bobby’s room and eased open the door. “Bobby,” he whispered.

No answer.

Keeping Cassie next to him, they went into the room. Bobby’s bed was unmade, but he wasn’t in it.What if the shout was from Bobby?

Cassie’s breaths came faster and faster until they were right on top of each other, and she forced herself to calm them. She’d hoped it would never come to this, but she’d readied herself as much as someone ever could for a situation like this.

Anyway, that’s what she told herself as she gripped her gun and moved into the hallway behind Vince.

They started down the stairs, and then Vince pushed her back as muted shots rang out, the bullets punching holes in the walls.Oh, great. The bad guy’s got a silencer.

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