Sweet Sin, page 2
“What?” she gasps.
“Do as I say.”
“Falcon!”
“Damn it, Savannah. Do it now.”
She trembles as she steps out of the hot tub, walks to the bar, looking only straight ahead. She opens the door and closes it behind her.
Please remember to lock the deadbolt. I’m too far away to hear it click over the noise.
I exit the tub quietly, grab my jeans and stumble into them, leaving the rest. I’ve got only my fists and my wits to protect Vannah, and I don’t need the hindrance of clothes.
My hair is dripping over my shoulders as I leave the pool area, walk into my backyard.
Sammy runs toward me, but I have no choice but to shoo him away. Sydney stands by the fence, barking like a menace. She’s a mother protecting her pup, and right now that’s working in my favor.
Then I see them. Two muscled men—one blond and one dark-haired, both dressed in black—enter the backyard, both armed with pistols.
I draw in a breath, will my beating heart to slow. I’ve faced armed men—though not with firearms—in the big house, and I managed to take them out. The trick is pull courage out of your gut and act more menacing than they are.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” I snarl.
I’m composed, ready to strike at the two men. The dark-haired one points his gun at Sydney, who’s still barking.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I say through clenched teeth, my hands balled into fists. “Who the fuck are you? Who sent you?”
“Nobody you know,” the blond says.
“Bullshit.” I walk closer, steeling myself. “Was it Bruno? Fletcher? It’s got to be somebody from the inside. Somebody I pissed off. Somebody I put in their place. Now you’ve come to take it out of me.”
“We’ve got no beef with you.” From the blond again. “Quit threatening the dog, Abel.”
“Fine.” Abel moves his gun from Sydney back to me. He gestures to the pool house and then spits. “We’re here for her.”
2
SAVANNAH
I turn the deadbolt and flip the light switch on.
It’s a large dressing area with shelves holding fluffy towels. There’s also a closet which I presume holds swimming garments and maybe robes. I don’t dare open the door to check. I’m too frightened.
I knew something was off. Though I’m closed in, I still hear Sydney barking.
Falcon? Where are you?
But he told me to stay here.
And stay here I will.
It’s not the first time I’ve had to cower down, fear for my life. But it’s the first time I’ve had to do so unarmed.
And that scares the hell out of me.
Sydney’s still barking, and then Falcon’s voice—loud, dark, and menacing.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
I hear nothing after that.
I’m not sure how I heard Falcon over the sound of the tub and behind this locked door, but I’ve been in situations before where my senses have been heightened.
Where I’ve feared for my very life.
But now all I hear is my own heart pounding in my ears.
Falcon is out there. Alone. No weapon. Only a mother dog and her pup to protect him.
He had no weapons in prison, and no dogs either.
Those facts should relieve me, but whoever is here is most likely armed.
I dart my gaze around the changing room. What can I use for a weapon if need be? The wooden benches are secure, no loose boards. I draw in a breath, push my fear to the side, and open the closet. A hanging rod holds hangers and robes, but the hangers are all plastic. With a wire hanger, I could fashion some kind of device to at least poke an eye out, but plastic hangers give me nothing.
The changing room has separate enclosed stalls with hooks for clothes. I grasp one of the metal hooks. It’s bolted solidly in place. I check each one in each stall. No luck. Nothing in the shower, either.
The lockers are equipped with combination locks. I grab one, but what can I do with it? I check each locker, but they’re all empty. Not even a lone sock to make a slock—a lock you put inside a sock and swing at a target. You’d think I learned this trick from a parolee.
I didn’t.
I’ve known about slocks since I was a kid, unfortunately.
Damn!
I hate feeling helpless!
I was determined to never feel this way again.
Then I gasp and run into one of the stalls.
An oblong mirror is attached to the back wall of each stall. I curl my fingers around the metal lock in my hand and then hurl it at the mirror.
The glass shatters with a crash, and I turn quickly, covering my face with my arms to avoid any flying fragments.
I turn back around. Only a few fragments are large enough to use as weapons. I grab a towel from one of the shelves and place the fragments on it.
Then I repeat the process with the mirrors in the other two stalls.
I end up with five fragments in triangle shapes that could cause significant damage if aimed right.
I sigh. I’ll cut the hell out of my hands trying, though. I quickly grab another towel, and using the sharpest of the fragments very carefully, I rip through the towel and tear it into strips, which I wrap around both my hands. My dexterity will be compromised, but at least I have a better shot at not bleeding to death.
I wrap the fragments in the other towel and sit by the door.
And I wait.
3
FALCON
We’re here for her.
The words ring in my mind as I try to make sense of them. Her? Savannah? What the hell?
But I don’t have time to dwell on their meaning.
“Her who?” I growl.
“You know damned well.” Blond hair says with a lascivious grin. “Your little slut. Savannah Gallo.”
Rage torches the back of my neck. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”
“I got a fucking piece trained on you that says differently, friend.” Abel spits on the grass.
Chills slither up my spine, but I stand firm. “Then you’d better be ready to fucking use it.”
“You’ve got balls,” the blond says.
“I’m going to take him out, Carlo.” Abel spits again.
“Shut the fuck up.” From Carlo, apparently. “We have our orders. We take the woman, and no one else gets hurt.”
Sydney has finally stopped barking and has herded Sammy to a corner in the yard.
Good, two fewer things to worry about.
But my main worry is Savannah, and if something happens to me, they will get to her eventually. They can shoot the lock off the fucking door to the changing room.
Which will not happen on my watch.
“The two of you get the hell out of here,” I grit out. “I’ve already tripped an alarm from the pool house. The cops’ll be here any minute.”
“You’re bluffing,” Abel says.
I stare him straight in his bloodshot eyes. “You think? Do you even know who the fuck I am?”
“Do you think we care?” Blondie says.
“You should.” I gaze at the knuckle tats on my right fist. “I’ve seen the inside, and I’ve fended off scarier beasts than the two of you.”
Carlo glares at me. “You’re Falcon Bellamy.”
“Thought you said you didn’t care?” I try to ignore the racing of my pulse.
On the inside, all that matters is how you project. What’s going on inside your body doesn’t mean a damned thing.
They called me Savage, and I became Savage, even when I was as scared as a fucking rabbit being chased by wolves.
“I don’t.” Carlo meets my gaze. “We’re here for the Gallo woman. And sure, we’re not supposed to hurt anyone along the way…but Abel, here…he doesn’t like to follow orders.”
“What do you want with her?” I demand.
“None of your fucking business.” From Abel.
“I’m thinking it is, if you want me to call off the cops.”
“The cops ain’t coming,” Abel says. “You think we’re a couple of morons?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that,” I say, my voice calm with no cracks.
They won’t get anywhere near Savannah. Not while I’m alive.
And I plan to fucking stay alive. A couple assholes like these two won’t be the end of Falcon Bellamy.
Not in this lifetime. I’ve faced worse. A hell of a lot worse.
Of course, none of them had guns.
The blond, Carlo, seems to be the leader of the two. Abel looks like he may be a few bricks shy of a load.
Which makes him way more dangerous.
If I take him out, I can reason with Carlo—at least long enough to disarm him.
But how?
A distraction. That’s what I need. But what? They’re right. I am bluffing. The cops aren’t coming, and my house is too far away from any of my siblings’ homes. No one will hear me if I yell for help.
Hell, no one will even hear a gunshot.
Except for Vannah. She’ll hear it.
Fuck, she’s got to be scared out of her mind. I wish I could be her shield, that I could wave a fucking wand and get her far away from here, somewhere safe.
But I’ve done all I can. I’ve sequestered her away in the only locked room in the pool area.
What the hell do these assholes want with her? They’ll take her over my dead body, but maybe they don’t need to know that.
Maybe I should try a different strategy.
“Say I let you take the girl.” The words are bitter on my tongue. “What’s in it for me?”
“Not getting your head blown off.” Abel spits for the third time.
I don’t dare turn my back on them—though I’m tempted, so they can see the word Savage tattooed over my back.
I’ll have to show them just how savage I am another way.
“I didn’t ask you.” I turn to Carlo. “What’s in it for me?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “We’re going to get her one way or the other. I’ll say it again. I got no beef with you, but Savannah Gallo is coming with us. Whether you’re a help or a hindrance is up to you.”
Fuck. A distraction. A diversion. What the hell can I use?
I gaze around my back yard.
My back yard that’s foreign to me. Once the house was finished, I was carted off to prison. I never got to live here.
The lawn is lush and green and rolls far past the fenced in area that keeps the dogs from running off. A network of stone pathways meanders through the range, and black wrought iron lampposts surround the perimeter.
If I could get to one, pull it out of the ground…
But even if I could get there, I don’t have that kind of muscle.
I stand rock solid, forcing myself to stay immune from anything that might cause me to move. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sydney and the pup. Sydney’s ears perk up.
She’s going to—
Yep. A shrill bark.
Abel jerks.
It’s the diversion I need, and I don’t think. With Carlo’s attention off me, I spring, lunging at Abel and disarming him with an elbow to his ribs and a rough squeeze to his right wrist. I grab his piece, and in a flash I’ve got him in a headlock with the nose of his pistol pointing at his neck.
Carlo’s gun is still trained on my head.
“Back off, or your buddy gets it,” I growl.
“You think I care?”
“Fuck you, Carlo,” Abel says, his voice raspy.
“You don’t talk,” I say, my voice projecting calmness, “or I blow your fucking head off, you bastard.”
Carlo refocuses his aim. “Listen, friend.”
“Do I look like a friend to you? I’m your worst nightmare.”
My heart is hammering against my sternum, so hard that this halfwit I’m holding against me can probably feel it. But no doubt his own heart is pounding. I’ve got a gun on him.
His pal’s got a gun on me.
But I can move quickly. Abel here will be dead before I am.
“You tell me what’s going on,” I say through clenched teeth, “Or I swear to God, Abel here is dead.”
“For fuck’s sake, Carlo,” Abel grits out.
“If you don’t know why we want her,” Carlo says, “it ain’t my job to tell you.”
Damn.
I wish I’d gotten that information from Lance at the tattoo shop. These two have something on Savannah, and I aim to find out what it is.
“I think it is, or you can explain to your boss why your partner’s dead, why I’m dead, and why you came back without the woman.”
“You think I’m stupid? I know she’s here. She’s locked up somewhere in the pool house. You kill him, I kill you, and I find her. End of story.”
He’s right at that. Savannah’s locked inside the changing room with no weapons. Hell, with no clothes. She’ll find a robe in there, probably put it on. But still, she’s unarmed.
Does she even know how to use a weapon?
So much I don’t know.
The woman’s a parole officer. She’s one of the good guys. So why the hell do these people want her?
I knew there was something I needed to find out about her. That’s why I went to Lance. On the inside, you learn to trust your intuition. There’s something about Savannah… Nothing bad, but these guys are after her for a reason.
Carlo takes a step forward.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “You keep your distance.”
“Just give me the girl, and Abel and I will be on our way.”
“At the risk of repeating myself, she’s not going anywhere with you.”
I want to kill this guy, and I may. I’ll do it to protect Savannah. I may die myself.
Except I won’t.
This is not how Savage’s story ends.
I didn’t get out of the joint and save my sister’s life just to have my own life cut short by a couple junior grade hitmen.
Raven may need more of my bone marrow, and if I’m dead…
I won’t be. It’s that simple. I need to live.
The thought of Raven draws my attention to the ache in my hip.
I steady myself. No time to think about that. Right now, my goal is to stay alive and keep Savannah safe.
“Ask your little girlfriend,” Carlo says. “Ask her about the Bianchis.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Savannah Gallo. She’s a member of the Bianchi crime family.”
I hold myself steady, the gun still trained against Abel’s head. I won’t show my surprise.
“You’re full of it,” I say.
“What? You think just because she works for the law, she can’t be a member of a crime family?”
“Her name is Gallo, asshole. She’s not a Bianchi.” The inside of my head starts to pound, as if my skull is launching cannonballs into my brain. “And even if she is a member of the family, that doesn’t mean she’s a criminal herself. In fact, I know she’s not.”
Carlo shakes his head, rolls his eyes, but I can tell he’s getting tired. “None of this matters. What you think doesn’t matter. We’re here for her, and we don’t aim to go back empty-handed.”
“You get the fuck out of here.” I pause a moment. “Or your friend will no longer have a brain. Not that the one he has is anything to write home about.”
“Damn it,” Carlo draws in a breath. “You just don’t know what’s good for you, do you, Bellamy?”
“You know,” I say thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’ve seen the inside of a cell. You’d have a look about you if you had. But you’re headed there, and you’re mighty pretty.”
Carlo’s eyes widen. Only slightly, but I notice. You learn to notice every extraneous detail on the inside. Especially when you’re up against someone who’s an actual threat.
“But your friend here?” I nudge the gun into Abel’s temple. “I’m betting he’s seen the inside of a cell. Us ex-cons, we know how to recognize each other. But you didn’t recognize me, did you Blondie?”
“Just give us the girl.”
Fuck…
The door to the pool house is open. I see Savannah… Wearing a robe… She slinks out of the door to the changing room. She’s quiet, and they won’t hear her over the whir of the hot tub motor.
But Sydney and Sammy…
They will hear.
Will Sydney run to her new mistress? Or will she protect her pup?
She’s known her pup longer. Come on, girl. You stay with your pup.
So far she hasn’t moved. Good dog.
Savannah’s body is wrapped in a lush terrycloth robe. It will slow her movements. But I can’t blame her. She’s naked underneath, and I sure as hell don’t want these two degenerates seeing her body.
Swaths of terrycloth are wrapped around her palms.
She’s holding something. Trying not to cut herself.
Damn it, Vannah… Go back inside…
But my subliminal message doesn’t get to her. So now it’s more important than ever that I keep Carlo trained on me.
“What’ll it take to get you out of here?” I say.
“You know what it’ll take. The girl.”
I tighten Abel’s headlock. “She’s not on the table. But if you know who I am, you know I’ve got money.”
“Do you think I need money?” He holds up his left hand that sports a gold watch. “I’m paid very handsomely by the Bianchi family.”
“Yeah? The money I’ve got is clean. I’ll even let you take Abel here with you. The two of you can take off, start a new life somewhere.”
Carlo furrows his brow. “I don’t think so.”
I’m pretty sure Abel can see Vannah, but so far he hasn’t made that clear. Maybe he’s nearsighted. Or maybe he’s afraid of my gun poking into his head. Just to be sure, I whisper in his ear. “Don’t you fucking say a word, or the last thing you’ll see is your brains hitting the ground with a splat.”
He tenses against me.
Yeah, he sees her. And he’s human. He has a self-preservation instinct. He doesn’t want to die. Not here, and not today.
