Page 52 of Hearts Held
Running my tongue along the inside of my cheek, I answer, “Yeah. Would appear so.”
“You think they’re attacking our girls as well?” he asks, holding the back of his neck with one hand.
Standing still, I review all the evidence I have of the murder cases from the massage parlor. I didn’t think they would go that far to harm our girls, but Kenneth brings up a good point.
“Well, we can find out once we have the holiday party. We’re supposed to be doing this bullshit truce and trade, yet they are stealing our shit and potentiallykilling our girls. So, what we gonna do, Everett? ’Cause I want to blow them the fuck up,” he sneers between his teeth. I can feel his stare boring into the side of my head.
“We need to remain political. Until we have definitive evidence, we can’t retaliate,” I reply, still staring at the ceiling as small speckles of dust pass through the cracks in the wooden boards. Another scream from the snake pit fills the air.
“You know Giorgio is coming to the party?” Kenneth’stone darkens with his question.
“I didn’t know he was back in England. I thought they kept that dog in Italy because of his perverse acts.” I finally turn to look at my brother, his gaze harsh but filled with admiration.
“He could be the one attacking our girls,” he states, raising his eyebrows.
I take my hands out of my pockets and retrieve the pistol I acquired from Freddy.
Handing the pistol to Kenneth I state, “Freddy gave this to me. Figure you’d like a new one for your collection.”
Kenneth clutches the gun, inspecting it. “This isfrommy fucking collection. Fucking Freddy.” He shakes his head and places the pistol in his back pocket.
I’ve become restless.
Like an addict, I need to see her.
Considering I haven’t spoken to her since our kiss, I have no idea how she’s faring or what she’s contemplating regarding the encounter.
I need to see her.
After our extensive work on the farm, I finish up some of our records and visit Olive at the horse stables.
We employ more men to monitor the shipments and supply them with more artillery to better fend off thieves.
The mob holiday party is approaching and we need to set up the Morris Horn Hotel and appear civil for the Italians. Once the party commences, we can ensure they’re drunk and slowly pick off and interrogatethe weaker links to gather more information regarding their bullshit.
It’s Wednesday, so Brielle doesn’t have an evening shift at the hospital. As I slide the key into the door of the townhome adjacent hers, my heart begins to pound within my chest in anticipation of seeing her.
I could knock on her door, but peering through to watch her is something else, something serene—to watch her undisturbed, calm and in her own element, not influenced by the tension between us…
Just observe her like I would a Grecian statue.
I take off my oxfords and tweed jacket, placing them near the stair banister. She isn’t on the first floor, so I quietly walk up the steps toward the doubled mirror that peers into her room.
She looks stunning.
As she walks out of the restroom, it appears she was getting ready for bed, adorned in her matching fleece pajamas, hair damp from a bath or shower.
I spy the big brute of a dog she has named Pig sitting nearby. He is watching her every move.
She sits on the edge of her bed, brushing her damp hair, and begins to speak at the pup.
“What am I going to do, Piggy? It feels wrong to date both Dr. Brendon and Everett. And Everett is a gangster—granted, I’m already in too deep just assisting them with injuries.” She continues brushing her hair as the dog cocks its head to the side. “I’ve officially lost it. I’m speaking to a fucking dog.”
His ginger tail wags at her words, demanding her attention.
For a moment I’m jealous of the dog, wishing I was in the room with her, her eye upon me.
I lean my forearm onto the glass above my head, resting my forehead on it.
