to have to give them a believable story and, surprisingly, the real story line was close enough to the truth. “We…uh, see each other,” I muttered.
Merrick narrowed his eyes as he uncapped his water bottle. “You guys see each other,” he repeated, looking for confirmation. It was a lie, but I nodded anyway.
“So, Ciro Mancini is your boyfriend?” Gary asked.
I knew how this was going to make me look, but there really was no sugarcoating it. One night with a man’s fingers inside you did not make a relationship.
I chose my life over my reputation.
“Not exactly,” I admitted. “We just…see each other on occasion.”
“Ahh,” Merrick drawled out. “You’re his booty call.”
I tried not to flinch, but there was no way around the seediness of what we did last night. Ciro wasn’t my boyfriend-hell, the man didn’t even like me much. He just did what most men did. He took was I brazenly offered last night.
Gary shook his head before I could comment. “Nah,” he said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Wh…why?” I mean, I might not be as captivating as Frankie, or as sexy as Mona, but I wasn’t a complete dog.
Gary didn’t mince words when he said, “Ciro Mancini is The Son of Morgan City. He is Luca Benetti’s right-hand man. He is one of the most feared men in the state.” Gary’s eyes roved over my entire body until they landed back on my face. “Ciro Mancini can get any woman he wants, Robbie. And, not for nothing, you might be hot as hell, but Ciro Mancini doesn’t need to drive an hour away for pussy.”
In a surprising move, Merrick had taken exception to Gary’s words and tone. “Now, Gary, remember who we are. We don’t talk to women that way.”
Gary’s eyes slid to his partner. “You’re right.” He looked back at me. “My apologies, Robbie, if I’ve said anything to offend you.”
What. In. God’s. Name?
“However,” Merrick continued, “he does have a point, though he could have made it more eloquently.”
I was caught, and I wasn’t sure how to escape.
I couldn’t tell them I was friends with Frankie because, regardless of what The Holy Trinity might think, I learned my lesson on that one. There was no way I’d tell these men anything remotely related to Frankie.
I also knew they were right. Ciro Mancini didn’t need to cross the street to get laid if he was feeling the need. And, while I was decent enough, my looks didn’t stop traffic. I didn’t have men writing odes to my beauty and bombarding me with sonnets and roses. There was absolutely no reason for Ciro to make the trip to Cedar Creek for me.
Fuck.
“He…he drove through town a few months ago and stopped at Brighton to eat,” I lied. “I waited on him and…things kind of escalated in the women’s bathroom.”
Gary cocked his head. “And he came back for seconds?”
“That must have been one hell of a trip to the bathroom,” Merrick added.
My face turned red with discomfiture. Even if it was a lie, I was painting myself in a horrible light. Plus, I could see they didn’t believe that I was memorable enough to warrant a second helping.
God, how embarrassing.
“Look, all I know is that I spent one night with the man a few months ago, and he stopped by last night for…to catch up,” I replied, praying I sounded convincing. “He might have been passing through town again, I don’t know. We didn’t tal-I didn’t ask.”
Merrick’s expression didn’t show an ounce of emotion as he said, “I hope you’re not lying to us, Robbie. I would hate to think you’re lying to us and you’re involved with The Son in some other capacity.”
“See,” Gary joined in, “right now, we somewhat trust you, Robbie. We trust that you are going to look for the box, if you haven’t already, and we trust that you are going to do everything you can to help us.”
“We’d hate to think you might be abusing that trust,” Merrick continued.
“I’m not,” I said, trying to reassure them. “Ciro stopped by for…sex last night. That’s all.”
“And if something untoward were to happen to you?” Gary asked. “Would The Son be making his presence known in Cedar Creek?”
I laughed.
It was a genuine, honest-to-God laugh.
My next words were the only absolute truth I’ve said to these men since they got here. “Do you honestly believe Ciro Mancini would bat an eyelash over random snatch?”
Merrick bristled, further mystifying me with his odd personality. “I don’t appreciate the reference in which