He flashes a lopsided smile that makes my pulse slam against my throat. A swirling heat floods my insides, hot-blooded lust raging through me.
“Good. So let’s hit it.”
My jaw drops and he chuckles.
“I meant you guys need to grab some balls.”
Okay, seriously?
“You have a very dirty mind, Doc.” He winks at me. “You didn’t answer me the first time when I asked if you were that girl, but now I see I was right.”
“You didn’t say you knew.”
“Oh, I always knew. I just wondered if you’d admit to it.” His grin widens. “And you just did.”
I have no words.
Absolutely none.
At least, none that are appropriate for a young woman to utter.
He jogs ahead of me and steals a basketball from one of the kids who is dribbling in his path. It’s hard not to stare at the perfectly sculpted wall of muscle that runs up to the basket and effortlessly sails into the air and dunks the ball.
I walk over to where my sisters are standing. Sofia’s eyes are focused on one of the Irish-looking coaches. Both of them are massively tall with dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes — totally Sofia’s type by the way she’s devouring them with her eyes.
“I thought you had a thing for brunettes,” I whisper.
She doesn’t seem to care that she is blatantly staring at the guy. “I don’t really discriminate, Kristi.” Her lips curl upward when he makes eye contact with her from across the gym.
I loop my arm through hers. “Come on, we’re playing.”
“Playing?” Uncle Frank grouses. “Kristina, this is ridiculous. We are grieving. And there are some very dangerous people out there who don’t think you should be alive.”
“That’s exactly why I just hired a bodyguard, Uncle Frank. And for the record, I need a break from grieving, okay? For just a little while, I’d like to feel normal. My entire life has been torn apart, do you get that? Is it horrible to want to forget about it all for just a little while?” A lump lodges in my throat. “My heart is broken. I lost my parents, my future is questionable, and there may or may not be some psychos plotting my death. I want to take a breather. And the girls need one, too.”
I swivel on my heel toward the crowd of boys streaking across the gym floor, the rubber tread of their sneakers squeaking on the polished lacquered hardwood. Sofia is already leading the way toward the melee with Maria on her heels. But before I can run after them, Uncle Frank grabs me by the arm, his fingers tensing as he pulls me back toward him. “I don’t know anything about this guy, Massimo. Nobody does. He just appeared one day, from what I’ve heard. But I know plenty about Savio, and believe me, he doesn’t just do things out of the goodness of his heart.”
“I have no choice,” I hiss, shaking off his grip. “I can’t run because whoever is after me will find us. I can’t go to the authorities for help. And I will never take any risks with the girls’ safety.”
I can’t tell him that while Savio may be a scumbag, he doesn’t know the truth about my dad working against him. It would be ridiculous to think he’d have killed my parents if he thought their syndicate dealings were tighter than a duck’s ass.
And why would he believe anything different?
That’s the only reason why I came to find Massimo.
I don’t know him, either, but for some odd reason, I trust him.
“Kristina!”
I jump, a gasp stuck in the back of my throat when I hear Sofia’s pained shriek from the center of the gym. I run over to where she stands with her hand outstretched, her fingers tensing around her phone. She holds it like it’s a block of poison that will seep into her flesh if she makes any rash movements. It shakes in her grip and I take it from her, furrowing my brow at the screen. Massimo runs over, peering at the screen over my shoulder.
“What is it?” he murmurs.
“The text,” she says, her voice shaking as violently as her shoulders. “Look at the text.”
Maria presses herself into my side and I slip my free arm around her, my eyes disbelieving as they focus on the caustic words on the screen.
“Oh my God, Sofia, what the hell did you do?” I mutter.
“Kristi, I swear, I didn’t know. I would never have—!”
“But you did, didn’t you?” I seethe. “You led them right to us!”
Chapter Fourteen
MASSIMO
“He was in the house that day with a backpack!” Kristina paces the length of the basement, fisting her hair. “What if he was the guy who planted the bomb? Oh my God, that makes so much sense.”
“That’s exactly what we’re gonna find out. And if he resists, I’ll just use my tire iron.”
“I’m trying to keep control right now but it looks very fucking suspicious. I just don’t understand why he’d text her something like that. He must know she’d show it to someone. Should we bring the phone to the police and report it?” Kristina asks.
I shake my head. “This kind of thing doesn’t get handled by the cops. It gets buried by them. They won’t get us any answers. And they sure as hell won’t get justice for your parents. It’s a hell of a lot more effective for us to show up ready to pull off his fingernails if he doesn’t cooperate and give us what we want.”
Kristina covers her face with her hands, letting out a muffled yell. “Jesus, I can’t believe this is happening.” She paces the length of the basement gym, pounding her gloved fists into a heavy bag as she passes it. “He came off like such a dork that day, just randomly showing up with a gift for Sofia. But then he got so weird afterward when she invited him back, like he might have known what there would be no coming back. Did he really fool us all?”
“Look, stop beating yourself up over it. This little prick needs to be dealt with, Kristina, and trust me, he will suffer if he had any involvement in the attack. If someone put him up to it, I’m gonna find out who it was and then take care of that person, too. They will all pay.”
“Okay.” She turns to the heavy bag with a frustrated cry and throws a solid punch into the belly of the bag, shaking out her hand afterward. “Fuck! That hurt.”
“You shouldn’t be using sparring gloves for heavy bag work.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. I was distracted. And angry. And scared. And a whole lot of other crap I haven’t had time to catalog yet.” With a smack of the bag, she groans. “Dammit!”
“Where’d you learn to punch?” I walk up behind her, capturing her wrists in my hands. Her back stiffens once her back is flush against my chest. “You’re gonna crack a wrist if you keep doing it like this.”
She turns slowly, a flicker of challenge in the jade depths. They pull me in deep, and much as I resist, I can’t help but float away, happy to forget about everything plaguing me, if only temporarily. “My father taught me.”
“He didn’t do a great job,” I murmur, dipping my head lower.
“Faking out your opponent is a smart move. If he underestimates you, you can surprise him easily and take him out before he can figure out what’s what.”