Page 6 of Witness Protection

“Drop it.” He took another drag and leaned his head back, exhaling above him. Holy shit, he was just hanging on by a thread.

“We could go to a movie or something. You know, get your mind off everything,” she suggested.

He clenched his teeth together. Cayden wasn’t sure what the fuck it was about him, but the bitches wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d made it clear he wasn’t available, but that didn’t stop them. They weren’t after his money, because as far as anyone knew, he was dirt broke.

He valued his privacy.

“We’ve been through this,” he said.

She reached for his face. “What happened?” He grabbed her wrist before she could touch him.

“No touching,” he said, shaking his head once in warning. “I nicked myself shaving.”

“Order’s ready, Cayden!” Bruno shouted from behind the counter. He was busy making pizza with his wife and teen son. The delivery drivers frequently came and went with orders. It was nice to see their place doing well.

He stood up and approached the counter, snuffing out his cigarette in one of the ashtrays. “Smells good,” he said. Cayden set a twenty on the counter.

“You okay?” Bruno pointed to his cheek, his hands covered in flour. His son came and took the money, leaving his take-out box in its place. Cayden always took his food to go.

“Nothing serious,” he said. “How’s business been?”

“It’s good. I can’t complain, right?”

He grabbed his box and forced a smile. “I’ll see you soon. Take care.”

Amelia ambushed him just outside the doors. She was cute or could have been. The girl was messed up on crack and turned tricks on the side to support her habit. You couldn’t pay him to go near her. “Why you avoiding me, Cayden? Are you seeing someone?”

“No, and I have no plans on changing that.” He walked around her. “Trust me, you don’t want a man like me. Be smart and worry about getting your own shit together.”

Cayden had come from the bottom, just like Amelia, just like a lot of people living in the area. One difference set them apart—he wasn’t addicted to any of that shit they were on. It was Frank Almeida who’d made sure he kept on the straight and narrow, and even though he was gone, Cayden was old enough to know better. The only escape he needed was some booze, cigarettes, and killing.

His cellphone rang during his walk back home. “Yeah.”

“There’s only one left in the house.” It was Randy. They’d been friends since they were kids. Cayden used him for information once in a while. He always needed cash. “No cops.”

“Good. I’ll have to pay our friend a visit.”

“You need me to tail the girl?”

“No. She’ll be easy to find. You did good, Randy. We’ll have a drink soon, eh?”

“Sure.” Randy hung up. Cayden had been avoiding everyone lately. His mind was focused on revenge, and he wouldn’t be himself until the job was done.

His witness had to die.

****

Sophia sat up in the bed.

She was alone.

It took a few moments for reality to suffocate her. It hit her like a blow to the chest, stealing her air and making her nauseous.

Why couldn’t she stay in blissful ignorance forever?

The visual of her father’s blood flashed in her head again, in perfect detail, and she tried to shake the image away. She bolted up to her feet, rushing to the window to pull back the drapes with both hands. The morning light stung her eyes. She exhaled, thankful for the morning, the new day, but she was still completely lost.

Hawk had brought her here, whisked her away in the night. Had he saved her from the same fate as her father? She wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Life as Vasily Morenov’s daughter was a lonely one. But without her father, she had no identity, and wasn’t sure where she fit in. She’d been segregated from the world—tutors, private lessons, no socialization. It had been done for her safety, but she knew it all boiled down to her father’s need for control.

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