Page 24 of Haunting the Shadow Man
“Well, actually I was just about to …” I start to say when a man I’ve never seen before steps up onto the porch.
“Ms. Wagner, are you ready to go? Mr. Kardoni is getting concerned since you haven’t answered the phone or returned any of his messages,” the man says firmly.
Alan looks between us, rage written all over his face. “She was just telling me that she would spend the day with me.”
His lie causes ice to flow through my veins. Alan looks back at me with an eyebrow raised as if daring me to disagree with him. The man behind him in a suit clears his throat before pulling out his phone and putting it to his ear.
“Yes, sir, she is right here.” The man glares at Alan. “We will head that way as soon as she gathers the things she needs for the trip. Yes, Sir.”
He holds the phone out to me. “Mr. Kardoni would like to speak with you.”
I take the phone from his hand, still not having any idea who this man or this Mr. Kardoni is.
“Hello?” I ask, placing the phone to my ear.
“My Blood Rose,” Vito sighs into the phone.
Instantly I relax. “You left me here alone after promising I wouldn’t be alone anymore.” I’m very aware I sound like a child, but I don’t rightly give a damn.
My feelings are hurt, and I want him to know it.
“I know, baby. I had shit that couldn’t wait,” he tells me. “Is that why you’re not answering your phone? Because you're mad I left?”
I can hear the self-satisfied smirk he is currently wearing.
“No, more disappointed I had to handle myself without you,” I sass back, grinning when he hisses and then groans.
Alan’s anger skyrockets at my words. “No woman of any decorum should speak like that in front of a man she isn’t with.”
“Who the fuck is that, Loretta?” Vito asks, on high alert.
I look Alan in the face and fight the feeling to run and hide from him. “Alan has decided I am not a woman of decorum.”
Vito cusses. “Blood Rose, listen to me. Alan is not a man to be trifled with. Get what you need that you cannot go without and let my man bring you to me. I will buy you whatever clothes and such you need when we get to Nashville.”
Laughing at the absurdity of the situation, I shake my head. “Vito, I can’t just run away to Nashville with you. I’ve got to work.”
“I am not playing, Blood Rose. Get in the car and let my man bring you to me. I cannot explain it all to you right now but will when you get here. Just trust me, okay?” A man of Vito’s caliber doesn’t typically beg, so to hear him doing it now, I can’t deny him even if I want to.
“Okay, Vito. I’m just going to grab my purse and then we’ll be on our way,” I tell him before handing to phone back to the guy.
As I bring my hand back, intending to go and gather my things, Alan’s hand snaps out, grabbing my wrist. He squeezes it until I hiss in pain, and then he pulls me into him.
“Mark my words, if you leave here with that man and go to Vito, you will regret it. I’ve been patient, letting you adjust to the idea of this. You are about to push me to my limit, Loretta, and I am not a man you want to push,” he fumes.
“Alan, thank you for stopping by to check on me, but I have somewhere I need to be. So if you will kindly leave not only my home but my property, I would greatly fucking appreciate it.” My words drip with acid.
I snatch my wrist free and turn away, grabbing my purse from the spot I dropped it when Vito and I got here last night. Luckily, I find my favorite pair of slides by the door. Stepping up, I eye the man still standing in my doorway and showing no sign of moving.
I look around him, talking to Vito’s man, who is still waiting for me. “Excuse me, can you call the police and let them know that I have a trespasser who refuses to leave?”
The thunderclouds in Alan’s eyes grow to hurricane level. “This isn’t over. I mean it. If you do this, there will be consequences to be paid.” He then turns and leaves.
I step through the door, pulling it closed behind me and making sure it’s locked. “Lead the way. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
He gives me a small smile before dipping his head. “You can call me Clark.”
The man turns, making his way down my stairs and to an idling SUV on the street. He opens the back door, and I slide in and buckle my seat belt as he climbs into the driver's seat and then pulls away from my house. We don’t make it five minutes up the road before the man’s phone is ringing through the stereo. Clark pushes a button on the steering wheel.
