I sit at my desk and page through the documents, photos, and reports. My little lioness has been quite busy overseas. Smattering of jobs tending bar and waiting tables. College off and on, majoring in criminal justice. I tsk as I keep flipping. One arrest for disorderly conduct during a protest of immigration laws. She was released and never fully charged. I hesitate on her mugshot. That look in her eyes. The challenge. Damn, this woman is too much for most men. Lucky for her, I’m not like most men.
She never graduated, her degree hanging by a thread when she left school altogether. A few jobs here and there in offices as an assistant or similar positions far beneath her. “Laying low, little lioness? Afraid someone was looking for you?”
I close the file and sit back.
Santino knows better than to speak and interrupt my thoughts, so he stands beside the fireplace as the sun streams in through the high, open windows.
“She’s running from something. Maybe from someone. Could be me.” I drum my fingers on my desk. “But I don’t think so. I believe she may have been targeted just like Carter. But she isn’t going to give me that information willingly.” I close my eyes and remember the taste of her skin, the quickness of her breaths, the heat of her body. “I’ll have to coerce it from her.”
“Shall I get the kit?” Santino asks.
“Not with blood, my friend.” I wave him away. “This requires a far more delicate approach.” I’ve already given my law that no one will touch her. But that law applies to me in the sense that I will never harm her. The thought makes my stomach clench. “No one is to bother her, do you understand?” I meet his gaze. “No one. She is mine, and mine alone.”
“Understood.” He gives me a curt nod.
“Ensure everyone understands this is an absolute. Any man who disobeys will suffer the swiftest and gravest of punishments.”
“Yes, sir.” He strides out to spread the word.
I sit back at my desk and think back on Carter’s death, on the cowardly way he was taken from both his sister and his son. There’s a traitor in my ranks. Of this I’m certain. Ferreting out the betrayer was already at the top of my list, but now that Apollonia is in danger, I will have to take a much more brutal approach.
“Firenz,” I call.
He strides in, his stiff demeanor perfectly matched to his stern personality. “Sir?”
“Bring in the soldiers one by one.”
His eyes snap to mine. “Sir?”
“I have some questions.” I stand and go to the cabinet along the back wall. Opening it, I run my fingers along my kit of tools. “And lay plastic on the floor. It was too much work for Flavia to scrub away the blood from the wood last time.”
“Yes, sir.” He leaves.
I prepare to spill blood as a sacrifice to the truth. I will find the rot in my organization, and then I will destroy it.
No one is going to hurt my lioness. Though I may spank her for being a saucy little minx with a wicked tongue and a curvy body. Even so, I suspect she’d enjoy every moment of it, then bring me to my knees.
5
Apollonia
I stare out the window and watch Carter giggle at whatever the older man says to him. Mom loved flowers. She’d spend hours in the backyard tending to hers. Our house would always be littered with them. I always loved seeing her arrangements. But it isn’t the same anymore. Now, beautiful flowers fill me with sadness. I hate them.
What’s more, I hate that I let bad people do that to me. I should see flowers and smile. They should make me think of my mom and fill me with sweet memories, but there is only ever sadness. I can’t heal. Enough time has gone by that I should. But each time I start to think I’m moving forward, I’m ripped back harder than the previous times.
I release my fingers from the window and step back into the room. He’s safe. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. For now at least. He’s still young. They don’t have any use for him at the moment. They’re still grooming him. But I won’t allow them to taint him. To ruin his innocence. He won’t end up like his father. I need to be smart.
I limp toward the bathroom and turn on the water to the shower before stripping myself and getting under the warm spray. I let my head drop and I cry. I let go. I cry for my parents, for my brother, and for the situation both my nephew and I are in. I have to get this poison out of me with hard-wrung tears. So I do. I cry until the need subsides and all that’s left is a dull, aching void.
“You’re done,” I tell myself and reach for a washcloth and some soap. I ignore the burn of the soap on my feet as I try to wash away some of the pain and the failure from earlier.
I’m not a failure. I step out of the shower and stare at my own image in the bathroom mirror. I’m the ghost of my mother, what’s left of her now that her soul is gone. But there’s more to me, too. There’s anger, vengeance, and determination. Cato should have left me in that church. If he wanted little Carter so badly, he should have never let me know he existed. It will be his biggest mistake. I’m sure a man like Cato doesn't think he makes them, but we all do. I plan on taking advantage of that mistake.
I limp back into the bedroom in search of something to wear. I’m not putting that dress back on. When I went to the closet I saw clothes. There are pretty dresses and blouses. All hanging with tags. Equally pretty shoes to go with them. My fingers brush the soft material before I find my small bag I’d packed before I left for the funeral.
I open it and pull out a pair of yoga pants, then slip them up my legs before grabbing a bra and shirt. I snag my socks and sneakers, then head back to the bathroom. I drop them on the counter as I sit to look at my left foot. There are a few small scratches that are closing, but one isn't letting up. I open the drawer and search in it until I find a kit to tape up the wound before I put my socks and shoes on. I sit for a minute trying to figure out what to do next.
Get your bearings. What’s around you? What can you use? Think, Apollonia, my brother whispers.
Carter’s words play in my head. He taught me to be aware of my surroundings. Everything was always a game. But in reality, it wasn’t. He pretended we were playing, but he had been teaching me. It wasn't until I was older that I realized what he was doing. He was giving me the skills I needed to survive.
He knew if I thought he was teaching me the ways of his world, I’d never really play. It was one of the reasons I’d left. I didn't want to live like this. Violence, death, and sorrow around every corner. One wrong move, and it’s all over. Oddly enough, some of the games Carter would play with me I’d actually used out in the real world on my own. So far from his. That might have been his plan all along.
He taught me to read people, to think ahead, and to always have a plan. He taught me how to survive even when the odds are against me. I slip off the counter and start going through everything. There are your typical things you expect to find in a bathroom. I pause when I find an old school razor kit--the type my grandpa would have used to shave. I open it. It isn’t a knife, but it’s something. I’ll take it. It may not be much, but it gives me a small sense of security. This is exactly what I needed. A little win today after so many losses.