Page 15 of Sweet Sin

“Thank God,” I say on a sigh.

Finally, he’s starting to clot.

“If you die on me, I’ll kill you.”

The ridiculousness of my words isn’t lost on me. But damn it, I will not have this happen to Savannah.

Not my sweet Savannah.

My sweet sin.

“Savannah!”

This time she emerges, dressed in one of my old white T-shirts and what appears to be my underwear.

And I hate to say it, but she looks hot.

Her right hand is balled in a fist, and she’s holding something. A rag maybe. Clearly trying to stop her bleeding.

“Did you call?”

She nods. “They’re coming,” she squeaks out.

“I think he’s going to make it, but he’s on borrowed time. I hope they get here quick.”

“I know him,” she says.

“Who the hell is he?”

“I mean, I don’t know him. But he’s a waiter. A waiter at Mario and Luigi’s.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. He waited on me and the girls the other night. That night you came in to get takeout. He said he knew me. Thought we had met before.”

“Had you seen him before that?”

“No. I swear. I didn’t think he knew what he was talking about.”

“Well, he sure as hell knows who you are, Savannah. You’re a member of the Bianchi family?”

She nods, shaking. “My mother is a Bianchi. My father is Vincent Gallo. He’s…”

“Doesn’t matter. None of it matters to me, Savannah. But why did they want you?” I grab her hand. It’s still bleeding, but I don’t let go.

“There’s only one reason they could want me, Falcon. They need me to do some dirty work in one way or another.”

“So that’s what you did for them in Austin?”

“Only when they made me. I swear. I begged my mom and dad to let me out. They agreed, so I came here.” Her face twists into a grimace. “I should have left the fucking country.”

“Savannah—”

“You’ve been through way too much, Falcon. First prison, and now you have to deal with these guys? I’m so sorry.”

I cup both her cheeks, my knuckle tats apparent.

Family.

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