Page 76 of Christmas with the Mafia
I don’t head to the library. There is only one place in mymind, and as I stumble into Nico’s room, I slam the door shut andlean against it.
Mafia. What the freaking hell. Christmas with the mafia—how did I not see this one coming?
It’s so obvious now I’m aware, and I’m guessing my rose-colored spectacles blinded me to that.
I shift off the door, my mind scrambled, and as I head to the bathroom, something catches my attention under the bed.
That looks like–
I kneel down, peering under the bed frame, and something pink and sparkly gleams at me from the dark shadows under it.
My heart stutters as I pull the object from underneath it and as my hand closes around my phone, pain spears me directly in my sanity.
He had this all the time.
I don’t hesitate for a second and head into the bathroom, locking it behind me, and as I sit on the chair by the vanity unit, I waste no time in turning it on.
The phone must have been in Nico’s pocket and fell out when he dropped the jacket on the floor when we–
My face burns as I remember how quickly I dropped everything for him. For a criminal. For a killer.
As my phone powers up, several messages blind me, and my heart stills as Quincy’s text voice gets more furious with every one.
Reggie, please, I’m going out of my mind with worry here. Should I call the Feds, Interpol perhaps?
Reggie, call me; this is suffocating me. Are you dead? You must be if you haven’t called me already.
My heart hammers as I press her number, and she answers almost immediately.
“Is that you, Reggie?”
“Who else would it be?”
“Oh, I don’t know, possibly the freaking mafia don who I imagined had you tied up in his bed, gagged and bound.”
A prickle of apprehension mixes with lust, and I hate myself right now, Brittany’s song crashing through my mind.
Mama, I fell in love with a criminal is right because I’m sad to say, I really think I have.
I brush it aside and inject some steadiness into my tone.
“For your information, I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. You and Aston of course.”
“Are you on drugs? Did he supply them? I mean, wake up, Reggie, this is an emergency.”
“Why do you think Nico is mafia, Quincy?”
I need confirmation because I am refusing to let my bubble burst before I have a chance to repair the damage.
“Aston. He was chatting at the depot about your good fortune, and the guys were horrified. Horrified, Reggie because they told Aston that everybody knewNicholas Ravera was the son of Giovanni Ravera, the freaking head of the Ravera mafia.”
Her breathing is fast and her tone serious as she lowers her voice.
“Now, here is the plan. Aston will drive out to collect you. Tell Nico there is a family emergency and call a cab. If you can get away with it, don’t tell him at all and slip out when nobody is looking. Aston will be waiting on the road outside. Then we can change your name once you’re in the safe house, of course.”
My mind buzzes with uncertainty.
“It’s not exactly around the corner; don’t be ridiculous.”
