Page 69 of Until You Can't

“Hands on the wheel,” I ordered the driver. “Who are you? Who sent you?” I peered into the vehicle, checking for weapons.

The driver, probably in his fifties, with a yellow stain on his white polo shirt and a McDonald’s wrapper still on his lap, gripped the wheel and grimaced.

“Who the hell are you?” I rasped, my patience worn out.

The driver let go of a heavy sigh as if disappointed he’d been made. “We work for your uncle. He sent us.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

RYAN

“He what?” I lowered my weapon and hid it, not anxious for any oncoming drivers to call 911 at the sight.

“Maybe we can pull over somewhere else to talk?” the driver suggested.

I didn’t have much of a choice but to trust he wouldn’t take off. We could only be in the middle of the road for so long before we drew unwanted attention. “Fine. But if you make a run for it, I will hunt your ass back down. We clear?” The driver nodded.

I went back into my truck, locked up my 9 mil, and kept a close eye on my rearview mirror as the men followed me to the nearest parking lot—the Starbucks where Natalia had her doctor date of all places.

Once parked, I texted Natalia a quick, Everything is okay, just go home, message.

I tossed the phone on the passenger seat and exited the truck.

“What’s going on?” I folded my arms and positioned my back to the truck, waiting for them to join me.

The driver swiped his hands over his shirt, brushing away crumbs from the sandwich he’d been eating before I’d spotted him outside the restaurant. “Your uncle was worried you were trying to pull a fast one on him. That you might be faking all the dating stuff to get the money. He sent us to—”

“To spy on me?” I cut him off, not all that surprised my uncle had gone to such lengths to safeguard Rossi money. “And what’d you determine?” I asked when he remained quiet. “What’d you tell my uncle?” The idea these two idiots had been following me around, and even worse, I hadn’t realized sooner, pissed me off to no end.

“Your uncle identified your girl in the photos. Said he knew her already,” the driver said, his Italian accent fairly thick. “You’re in love with your brother’s ex? Isn’t there some sort of code against that?”

Code? Yeah, there was an unspoken rule. Don’t date your brother’s ex. Sure. But . . . “Show me your phones. I want to see what pictures you sent my uncle.” I opened my palm. So help me, if there were any inappropriate images of Natalia, I’d lose it. Screw the money.

The driver reached into his pocket, unlocked his phone, and hesitantly handed it over.

I swiped through his latest photos, seeing a few bathroom selfies I wished I could forget. From the looks of it, the men had been spying on me since yesterday.

They had images of us rock climbing and eating in the back of my truck. Kissing on the patio in the city later that night. “What, no pictures of those guys attacking us in the garage?”

“What attack?” the second guy asked, his already wrinkled brow tightening in surprise.

“Never mind.” I shoved the phone back into the driver’s hand. “What does this mean? What the hell do you want from me?”

“Your uncle’s not a huge fan of your brother, so he’s not upset you’re dating Anthony’s ex. But from what we gathered by watching you two—you aren’t bullshitting him. You love her. That’s what we told Maurizio.”

Fuck. I hung my head and set my palm to my forehead.

“You can’t be upset your uncle didn’t trust you. You’ve never shown any interest in the money, and now all of a sudden you care? And where the hell is your brother, anyway? And why isn’t he making more noise about you dating his ex? Your uncle would be a fool not to be suspicious,” the man went on, stroking his smooth jawline.

I wasn’t sure what to do. “Tell my uncle I’ll be in touch,” was the best I could do for now.

I waited for them to leave before getting back in my truck to check my phone. There were a few worried messages from Natalia.

Ryan: We need to talk. You home yet?

Natalia: Just turning in the neighborhood. Enzo is following us. What’s wrong? What happened?

Ryan: Wait for me. Okay?

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