I had never been so terrified. I was the reason behind Frankie getting kidnapped, and they had looked like avenging gods fanned out in that living room. I had been surprised that they had let me go, but I hadn’t gotten off lightly. A guilty conscience is a bitch, and I’ve been living with one every day since that night.
The pain really took hold when Ciro Mancini had stopped by my house on his way back to Morgan City to look for Frankie’s purse and car keys. He hadn’t even bothered knocking on my front door. He had stormed in, as sweet as you please, and demanded I turn over Frankie’s stuff. I had been so exhausted and in so much pain, I had lost my mind and called him a sonofabitch and had told him to look for her stuff himself. When he started ransacking my house, I grabbed her purse from the kitchen and threw it at him. I had noticed her purse in the passenger seat of Randy’s front bed and had grabbed it before leaving his truck in his driveway. I had barely made the walk home from there, but it hadn’t taken long since we only lived a street from each other.
Ciro hadn’t immediately left, though. He had one last thing to say to me and I’ll never forget it.
Ever.
He had stalked his way through the living room until he had my battered face gripped in his right hand. He had stared down at me and said, “Whether intentional or not, if you ever put my sister in danger again, I will fucking come for you. I will come for you and you’ll wish your boyfriend had finished you off instead of leaving you for me.” He had stormed out after that little touching moment and I’ve trying to force him from my mind ever since.
It didn’t help that he had a face too gorgeous to be real. He was also tall. My five-foot-five frame still had to lean back to keep eye contact with him. He was over six-foot by an inch or so. And I couldn’t believe how much he looked like Frankie. They both had dark brown hair, but what really stood out were their glowing amber eyes. I remember when I first met Frankie on her first day at Brighton, I had been memorized by her stunning eyes. But seeing those same odd colored orbs on a man had really taken my breath away. Ciro Mancini was everything you’d picture when you thought alpha male.
Too bad he hated me.
I really couldn’t fault him, though. I almost got his sister killed. His sister was harmed because of me and there was no way to get around that.
There was also the fact that I didn’t need the Mafia after me. So, after Ciro had collected Frankie’s stuff, I had removed all of Basco’s hard work, gotten into my car, and drove around Cedar Creek until I found the perfect place to stage an accident. It had already been past midnight by the time I had gotten home, it had been too easy to feign falling asleep at the wheel especially with the sedative I had been given. I had made sure I was going a speed that wouldn’t kill me; however, it would explain my injuries. I needed a legitimate reason to give my boss and for the aftercare I still needed. Basco had done a great job patching me up, but I had enough injuries that I needed my aftercare monitored by a licensed doctor.
Everything after the crash had been standard. An ambulance had shown up on the scene, where I declined treatment, citing lack of insurance. I wasn’t stupid. I knew they would have drawn my blood and Basco’s sedative would have shown up, bringing up questions I was not about to answer.
I took The Holy Trinity’s threats very seriously.
And, even though, I missed Frankie terribly, I haven’t seen her since that night. We talk every day, but she’s been pretty much banned from coming to Cedar Creek, and I didn’t have the balls to show up at her home. She insists I’m welcomed, but I can’t imagine her husband feels the same way.
“I know I’ve been saying this all day, but it sure is good to have you back, Robbie,” Mona said, a huge grin on her face. “I enjoyed the extra money, but I’d rather see your pretty face waiting tables, knowing you’re okay.”