Page 11 of Maid of Dishonor
Is he running? It’s entirely possible, but I figured Maitland would have the brains to allow the cops to protect him unless he did manage to get the money that he owes Gio.
"Alright, I'll check back with you in an hour once I've gone out to look for him. I know a few places that he might have gone to lay low until all this attention dies down a bit."
“Wait, you’re leaving?” Veronica asks.
I try to put my hand over the receiver to block the sound of her voice, but it's too late.
“Who’s with you?” my lieutenant asks.
I turn away from her just as there is a knock at the door.
"No one, sir," I say and hang up with him before he can ask any more questions.
"Dean," I hear Veronica say and turn around just in time to see Frankie and Lorenzo push into the suite, followed by Gio.
"I told you I saw him," Lorenzo says, pushing Veronica to the ground as he lunges forward at me.
I manage to use his strength against him and send him into the sectional sofa. The frame of the furniture strains under his body mass, but before I can even take a step at him, I feel Frankie’s meaty hand land on my shoulder and spin me around before punching me in the face.
Only the terrified scream of Veronica pierces my consciousness before everything goes dark.
The echo of Veronica screaming jolts me awake.
"Well, well, well," Frankie says with a smug grin as he sits on the sectional sofa. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty is finally awake."
"Veronica," I say, my gaze swinging around the suite, looking for her. "Veronica!"
I try to stand up but quickly realize that I’m tied to one of the chairs from the dinette table. My arms are bound behind my back to the chair, and my feet are tethered to each front leg.
“Where is she?” I ask.
Frankie just shakes his head at me like I'm some pitiful ant, and he's holding the magnifying glass above me.
"Don't you worry about the sexy redhead," he says and then laughs when I try unsuccessfully to pull myself free from my restraints. "I think you should be more concerned with your little predicament. I mean, after all, you are stuck to a chair, and I have instructions to find out who you really are before taking you out to the desert for good."
The fear that courses through my body has nothing to do with his threat. I don’t care what happens to me. I need to find Veronica and save her, no matter the cost.
“Who are you?”
"Come on, Frankie," I say, trying to see if reason will work on him. It's a long shot, but if it gets me one step closer to saving Veronica, then I will do it. "You know me."
"No." He shakes his head, anger flashing in his eyes. "I thought I knew you, but whoever you are, whoever you work for is not the guy I knew.”
“I can help you.”
He scoffs. "You really don't get what's happening here. You need to start answering my questions, or it won't just be you out in that desert." He holds up Veronica's now dry bikini top and spins it around on his finger.
“If you so much as touch her—” I growl.
"I don't think you are in any position to be making threats," Frankie says, pointing to the chair I’m bound against.
“Tell me what I want to know, and I will make sure that she doesn't get passed around to all the guys for some fun."
Red. That's all I see when his threat to Veronica leaves his lips. He's still got the smug smile on his face when I stand up as best I can in my chair and jump back onto the ground. The wood splinters beneath me, and I'm free, only partially attached to the chair.
Frankie's eyes widen in surprise, and he tries to jump up from the sofa and make a run for the door. I lunge the broken seat piece at his legs, and he crumples to the ground with a heavy thud.
I free myself from the restraints of the chair and walk over to the groaning pile of a man.
