Page 117 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
“You should run when it’s safe. I’ll let my brother know, and if you don’t…”
“Then what?” I whisper.
“You’ll never get free, and I’ll poison you with hate.”
He leaves me and I sink down onto the bed, curling up in a ball. Why did that sound like a confession wrenched from a guilt-ridden man? Why did that sound like there is something soft and impossibly fragile inside of him?
Why did it sound like what’s inside of me?
Not hate, but… something different. Much scarier.
I think I’m in love with him.
I don’t even know how it happened. But my heart aches and a lump lodges in my throat… big, hot, and hard. It chokes me slowly, agonizingly.
Maybe it just feels like I’m in love. Maybe I’m really not.
I stand up and look back at the photos on the coffee table. Everyone looks happy. It’s not much, but it’s something, just like Torin said. More than most get.
I need to see him, to talk to him. I just need him.
I’m sure he’s in the basement since the rest of the house is quiet when I venture out of the room. I find a set of stairs on the other side of the kitchen, through the laundry room, and expect the door to be locked.
It isn’t.
I hold my breath as I turn the handle and step inside.
I’m really not sure what I expected… but not this.
Torin’s got a style and it’s a little dark, a little brooding with warmth and coziness. LikeMildredand his suite upstairs.
There are plants in one corner, and they’re beautiful and green. The big computer setup looks sleek and powerful and has enough attachments that most nerds might geek out in itspresence.
The two big monitors project a picture of the cat and dog attacking a laughing Declan while the other brothers and Lucie are in the midst of laughter surrounding him. It’s a snapshot out of time and it rocks me on my feet to see it.
It just doesn’t fit him. At least, everything I know about him.
The image of him that I still cling to is of the evil man coming out of the smoke and flames to grab me.
But I was only ten years old. Now I’m twenty-two, and he’s still that evil man, yes. I saw that part of him a long time ago, and I still can now, but he’s impossibly so much more. Like a thousand layers deep more.
So maybe this smiling Torin fits, too.
I notice some folders on the small computer screen. And just before I turn away, the folder names catch my eye.
Harry Ireland.
Harry New York.
Federici Family.
Mam’s Notes.
Rao Family.
My heart thunders hard in my chest and I sink into his chair, trembling. With a shaking hand, I click on one folder after another. File after file appears. Too many to open and read or look at since some are photos. My head jerks around, my pulse hammering hard in my throat. There’s a drawer full of those thumb drive things. I dig around and pull a few out.
After a few tries, I find an empty one and I copy the files onto it. When it’s done, I slip it out of the computer.
