Packing Heat(21)

Vince sighed, shaking his head. “I know what you’re going through.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Something like it. Now get the fuck out of here.”

I nodded, opened the door, and left the room.

Ernesto was a piece of shit, but he had power in the mob. He had men, a good number of soldiers, maybe as many as Vince did. If it came to a fight, it might not go in our favor.

But I would love a fight. That was what I was good at. I could cut throats like any man. Hell, I could do it better. I wanted a chance at blood.

Instead, I’d watch over the girl, make sure she stayed intact while the fucking council of bosses made their damn choice. Vince would argue my case, and then that would be that.

I headed out to my car, intent on a long day of sitting around, bored as fuck. I wasn’t going to let Cassidy know that I was stalking her. I didn’t need to spook the girl any more than I already had.

Although I wished I could get up into her apartment, slowly strip her panties down her smooth skin, and run my tongue along her delicious little pussy until she forgot about all of this and came like lightning in my mouth.





11





Cassidy





Rafa took me up to my apartment, checked to make sure that it was empty, and then left. As soon as the door shut and I was alone, I felt like I was going to break down and cry.

Instead, I curled up on the couch and took some deep breaths, getting myself together. I couldn’t have a breakdown every time Rafa came around. There was too much at stake for me to lose it, and I knew I needed to keep my cool no matter what right now.

I tried my best to go through my normal routine. I changed into comfortable clothes, I made some lunch, I watched some TV, and then I tried to do some work. I was writing a story about a local man who had started a charity that collected shoes for the homeless. It was pretty boring, but it would pay well enough, so I was committed to doing it.

My day drifted along like that. I kept catching myself daydreaming about Rafa, imagining his body against mine, his arms wrapped around me as he pressed me down against the couch. I wanted to feel what he could do to me, the way he could make my body feel, but I also hoped I’d never see him again.

Dinner came and went. I cooked, ate, and got back to work. I was throwing myself into this boring article simply to try to distract myself from being so damn afraid.

The fact that Rafa had felt the need to drive me home and check my apartment meant that someone was after me. He wasn’t trying to hide that fact, but still, it felt almost unreal. I’d never been wanted by anyone before, and I’d never been in any danger. Now some mobster was protecting me from the rest of the mob, and I had no idea why.

I didn’t get what Rafa was getting out of this. If I really was some threat to his organization, I didn’t understand why he was helping me. He was betraying his own people. Or maybe not. Maybe there really was a division inside the mafia over the issue of human trafficking.

Or maybe he just knew that I had nothing to do with it and knew absolutely nothing. Maybe underneath those tattoos, that dangerous grin, those muscles, maybe under all that deadly strength, there was a man who genuinely cared.

It didn’t matter, though. I needed to concentrate on my work. I doubled down and got a good chunk of the research over with.

Which was how I found myself staring at the computer screen at one in the morning, tired and bored.

Nothing had happened all day. It was quiet, very quiet, and I hadn’t heard anything from Rafa. Nobody was watching me, or at least that was how it felt.

I couldn’t help myself. It was nagging at me, digging into the corners of my brain. I did a quick Google search, trying to find something about Rafa himself, though there wasn’t anything online. That didn’t surprise me.

I did a few more searches and clicked through some websites. I was looking for any information on the mafia’s involvement with human trafficking that I could find, especially anything that suggested there was a split within the organization. I wanted to find the truth, and I just couldn’t help myself.

I knew it was stupid. I knew I shouldn’t have been messing around with that stuff. But alone in my apartment, typing on my laptop, I felt safe.

I shouldn’t have felt safe.

One thing led to another, and I found myself doing a quick search for the Spiders again. I got nothing, as before, but I couldn’t help myself. I started searching more, going deeper.

That was when my computer stopped working.

Or that was probably not right. It was still on, but the screen suddenly went black. I stared at it, surprised and not sure what was happening. I tried to power it off, but nothing happened.

“Shit,” I said, annoyed. I figured I had gotten a virus.