Page 41 of Her Keeper
Oh, this was going to be aloteasier than I’d thought.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I whispered back. “Tell me. And make it quick. Those guys don’t look like they have a lot of patience.”
Dante waived that observation off. “Duca isn’t going to do anything. My dad might be head of the family but he’s Joseph’s man, and Michael’s the one who pays the bills. What do you know? Is it good enough to buy you your life? Because I’m not letting you in unless it is.”
I’d changed my mind. This girl was a mix of Sloane and Brooks.
And I sort of loved her.
“Are you on my side, then?”
She turned her large blue eyes on me, completely serious. “My brother loves you. He wouldn’t have saved you if you weren’t worth saving. But he’s not here right now, and that means it’s my job to take care of you under this roof. Now give me something I can work with.”
That was good enough for me.
“Yes, I’m hoping it’s enough to buy my life,” I said simply. “Take me to your father.”
She gave me another long look, then turned and motioned to Duca, who stepped forward and took my arm.
“Just for the optics,” he muttered to me. “I look better if I look like I’m dragging you in there.”
I almost laughed, but stopped it just in time. “Glad I can help your reputation, Duca.”
“You got something good enough that he’s going to listen to you?” he asked as he marched me up the stairs to, I assumed, whatever room Jimmy Rossi was holding court in.
“I guess that’s the question, isn’t it?” I asked.
Then we were stopped outside a door and Duca was knocking sharply, opening the door, and saying, “Mr. Rossi, someone’s here to see you.”
Moments later I was shoved through the door and standing in front of Jimmy and Rosella Rossi. They were in the brightest breakfast room I’d ever seen, a spread of eggs, bacon, and potatoes laid out in front of them, and I had the passing thought that it was horrible that their sons were on the run, one of them shot, and they were here eating breakfast like it was any other day.
Then I saw that Rosella’s eyes were rimmed with red from crying, her mouth drawn tightly in unhappiness. The plate in front of her was untouched. Her gaze met mine and I saw very clearly that she wasn’t here of her own accord.
Jimmy Rossi was the only one acting like all of this was just fine.
Well, we’d just see about that.
Jimmy Rossi wiped his mouth with his napkin, eyeing me like I was a bug who had just found its way into his kitchen, and put his napkin to the side. Making me sweat, I thought. Making me wait and worry about what he was going to do.
Except I’d been around Michael and Sloane and Brooks enough to know how to keep my cool. He probably thought I was still the same silly girl who hadn’t been able to take care of herself in high school.
More fool he.
“Penny Lane,” he said finally. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I’d never been in this house,” I replied. “I thought I’d like to see it. And I needed to speak with you.”
He huffed, though it wasn’t a laugh. “I’m surprised you’ve got the balls to come marching in here. You know it’ll cost you your life.”
I ground my teeth together, recalling every single thing Joseph ever said about his father and how high-handed he was. I’d always thought he was exaggerating.
Turned out he wasn’t.
“I don’t know anything of the kind,” I told him coldly. “What I do know is that I have information you don’t, and that it’s information your family needs to know.”
Another snort of non-laughter. “Where the fuck is my son? He hiding out there in the car?”
“Your son’s been shot,” I told him, taking more than a little bit of pleasure in his flinch. “And your other son is with him, taking care of him. Any other questions?”
