Page 66 of Tainted Princess
“Vinnie,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Really, I’m okay. This was nothing. A few bumps and bruises, that’s it. A couple pain killers and a hot shower and I’ll be good as new.”
He swallowed, frowning at me as I started to walk to the SUV, my steps a little slow thanks to my aching hip. But there was no way I was gonna say anything to Vinnie about it. He held open the passenger door, and I climbed slowly inside, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes. I heard the other door open, not looking as Vinnie started the SUV and we headed out of the parking garage. The glaring desert sun was an assault on my eyes, even through my closed lids, and I felt around blindly in my purse until I located my sunglasses and slid them on.
“Shit,” I muttered quietly, enjoying the feel of the cool air blowing on my face as I repositioned the vents in the dash. “Not even in Vegas a week and already someone is trying to kill me.”
I jolted forward in my seat as Vinnie hit the brakes a little harder than necessary, my already aching joints protesting the sudden change in our velocity.
“Someone is trying to kill you?”
“Yeah,” I groaned, rolling my head in his direction. “You are! Easy on the pedals there, my man.” I opened my eyes enough to glare at him. Not that he could see it through my dark glasses, but I assumed he could feel the depths of my scowl when he shrank back and grimaced apologetically.
“Francesca,” he said, easing us back up to a decent speed. “I’m serious. I am supposed to be your bodyguard. How can I do my job if I don’t know what’s going on?”
Closing my eyes again, I sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on, either. I wasn’t kidding. I have barely been in Las Vegas for five days; even I couldn’t have made an enemy that quickly.” I meant for the statement to be a joke, but in reality, there were a few people who could be pissed enough at me to make a play like that.
The first person who came to mind was Ivan, but assuming that Enzo had let him live last night, I would have thought he’d still be home nursing his twice-broken nose.
Of course, Anton was the second possibility on the ‘Let’s Kill Francesca’ list. If Ivan was actually working for the localPakhan,that meant two things: one, he’d lied to us about it, which wasn’t a huge surprise at all.
But, more importantly, if Anton was sending his dealers into Enzo’s clubs against their recently inked peace, then that meant Anton was making moves. Moves that would upset the delicate balance of the Las Vegas underworld and would very likely end in a lot of blood in the streets.
Either way, it didn’t bode well for me that I was at the top of their hit list. Unwritten rules generally meant that women were off limits, wives and daughters included.
However, no one out here really knew I was Enzo’s wife.
No one except, of course, Jerry Lebowitz. And he was plenty pissed off at me too.
Shit. This could be bad.
“On second thought, Vinnie,” I said, hearing his grunt of sarcastic laughter. “I think we need to make a pit stop be fore we meet Lexi. You might have your work cut out for you when it comes to watching my back.”
* * * *
The bell over the door chimed, the sound loud in the quiet of the shop. The air was hot, musty and stale, and in the slanting light of the desert sun, I could see the dust motes dancing in the breeze I created as I pushed my way inside, Vinnie close behind me.
“I still say this is a terrible idea,” he muttered, sulking a bit at my refusal to take his advice.
“Noted.”
The place was deserted, though I supposed there could be someone lurking somewhere between the crowded shelves, their sagging lengths looking almost ready to break under the weight of random goods stacked wall to wall in the grungy pawn shop.
“Seriously, Francesca. There has got to be a better way to get what you want.”
He was right; there probably was. But unfortunately, my only real contact in this city was my husband, and he and I were currently not speaking.
Or, we wouldn’t be speaking if we ever found ourselves in the same room at the same time.
So, that left me with no choice but to take care of my own business, and that meant finding myself in the sketchiest pawn shop Las Vegas had to offer.
We made our way to the back of the shop, and I leaned over the glass cases, admiring a wide variety of jewelry locked inside. Rings of all shapes and sizes were lined up in dusty velvet cases, engagement sets and diamond solitaires alike, the remnants of someone’s love gathered here, waiting to be picked off by the next desperate soul looking to tie themselves to someone for life.
The thought had me glancing down at my own plain white gold band, the symbol of Enzo’s claim on me. I didn’t know why I hadn’t taken it off; it’s not like our marriage was anything more than a business transaction. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to remove it. Just the thought sent a wave of anxiety swirling through my stomach.
Before I could look too deeply at those feelings, the sound of a door opening drew my attention. Glancing up, I saw a man exiting the back room of the shop, an orange container clutched in one hand, as he quickly closed the door behind him. But not quick enough to prevent me seeing the additional shelving back there.
Perfect. Just what I was hoping for.
Pasting on my best smile, my headache from earlier still a dull throb at the back of my skull, I met his wary eyes and attempted to look helpless. I could see him assessing me for a potential threat, and in this neighborhood, I totally understood that. I wondered how often this place got robbed. There were bars on all the glass windows, and likely a twelve gauge under the counter, but that wouldn’t stop everyone.
