Page 52 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
Not that we need it.
God’s man on the ground is all the mafia needs.
I look around. My bathroom’s a mess.Drawers are open, contents emptied onto the counter. Then I go back into the bedroom. That’s a mess, too. My desk is covered with crap, the sofa cushions are overturned, my clothes are everywhere.
“What the fuck were you doing?”
“Looking for your gun so I could shoot you.”
“I don’t keep weapons in my suite. Get changed and go to fucking bed. And yes, that’s an order.”
With that I stomp off, leaving the door open. I head down to the basement where I lock the door and stretch out on the sofa.
Arnold scratches at the closed basement door sometime later, barking, dragging me back into the world I needed to escape for a little while. I shower, change, and unlock the door, running up the steps after him. He darts toward my room in a frenzy, and once I get there, it’s clear why.
Harry’s gone.
TWELVE
harry
I need the church.
It’s Monday morning. I’m always at St. Jane’s on a Monday morning. So I snuck out of the house. I crept past the sleeping cat on the bed, who cracked one eye at me, and then the dog who followed me to the front door, biting my coat.
He couldn’t hold me back, though. I rushed out five minutes after the family don, or whatever the hell the Irish version is called, left in running clothes at five o’clock.
All I did was walk around for a while, trying to wake myself up, but the nightmare of my reality is pretty much near impossible to escape. As I navigate the streets in the area, I try to keep putting more distance between me and the brownstone so that Torin won’t be able to find me.
Fucking Torin.
I know it’s stupid running off in the dark of the morning, the cold so bitter as it blasts through my coat and dress.
But… fucking Torin.
Everything aches and I just… I just… I hate myself for letting him touch me. No, not even that. To get out of the situation alive, we had to go through with it. I had to. He’d be fine either way. Me, not so much.
But I didn’t have to like it. I didn’t have to want it. Or beg for more. Or come so much it’s hard to walk straight.
I gulp in the stinging air. Dammit. I betrayed myself last night.
I need to get out of here, get far away from this mess I willingly entered into. No, I need a gun to shoot Torin.
The hatred burns higher and brighter with every step I take down the cracked sidewalk.
My fingers are balled up tight and stuffed into my coat pockets. There’s not even room to forgive him in this. Not for the past and not for saving me. After all, how can I say he saved me when he’s the one who killed Bernardo and got me in this mess in the first place?
I shiver. And this time it has nothing to do with the frigid air.
It does have everything to do with a long-ago past I don’t understand. Like why he wanted us dead. What my parents did and…
I turn left on the street that’s waking up and the familiar sight of St. Jane’s welcomes me.
Looking up at the tall spires, I can see why it was used as a smuggling base. And why it’s perfect for both a meeting place and hiding place for women seeking sanctuary and a new life.
Even though Father Luigi married me to Torin last night, he did it because he was forced to. And he’ll know what to do for me now. Maybe he’ll hide me.
Maybe…
