Page 55 of Brutal Vows
Realizing that arguing with him will get me nowhere, I give up. “Okay, Macho Man. Good luck with that nasty infection.”
He glowers at me. “I don’t have a nasty infection.”
“Not yet. But it’ll set in soon from the debris that entered the wound along with the bullet. You know, threads from your shirt and suit, bone fragments, burnt powder, all that fun stuff. The wound needs to be irrigated, disinfected, and stitched up or things will get ugly fast. You could end up dead.”
I try not to look too pleased by the thought, but I’m sure I fail.
He pauses to consider me for a beat. “Have much experience with bullet wounds, do you, wee viper?”
Irritated by that heinous nickname, I grind my molars. “I’velived all of my thirty-three years in the Mafia. What do you think?”
He quirks a brow. It turns to a smirk. Then he drawls, “So you’re thirty-three. Hmm.” He looks me up and down. “You don’t look a day over forty.”
“At least thirty-three is my age and not my IQ.”
“And at leastIdon’t have the personality of a cold toilet seat.”
“God, I wish you’d fall onto a hive of murder hornets. In the meantime, why don’t you go outside and see if you can miscount any more intruders? I’m going to check on my mother.”
As I walk away, headed to the kitchen, he calls out, “How do I get to the safe room?”
“Make two right turns at the end of that hall. You’ll hit a set of double wood doors. The stairway to the basement is behind them.”
I walk into the kitchen and flick on the overhead lights. Mamma sits at the table with an empty glass and a bottle of wine on the table in front of her. She’s got a small silver pistol in her left hand.
“Ah,stellina! Just in time—I’m out of wine.” She sets the gun down and pushes the empty wineglass toward me. “And no Cabernet, please. That stuff Homer likes is too dense.”
I mutter, “Like the man himself.”
Setting the rifle on the island, I pick up the house phone and dial down to the safe room. Gianni picks up on the first ring.
“It’s me. You’ve got Lili?”
“Yes, she’s safe.”
“I haven’t checked the cameras yet. What can you see?”
“The grounds are clear.”
“Good. So’s the house.”
“Leo’s on his way with more men.”
“How long until they get here?”
“Any minute.” A short pause follows. “Mr. Quinn saved your life.”
I can’t tell by his tone if he’s going to thank him or hate him for that. “I would’ve been fine without his help.”
He chuckles. “From what I could see, it didn’t look like it,sorellina.”
Little sister, little star, little viper… why does everyone insist on calling melittle?
I’m fucking BIG!
And I certainly don’t need a bossy, overbearing, overconfident man-child with a dumb nickname and an even dumber matching tattoo to save my life. I can do it all by myself, thank you!
I blow out a breath, push my anger aside, and focus. “So who do you think they were?”
