Kingpin (An Italian Mafia Romance Duet #1) - W.S. Greer Page 0,24

muffled and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost all control of my body. I see Alfonse, but there’s three of him and they’re all dancing around and through each other. I think he’s talking, too, but I can’t make out the words. It’s like his voice is playing on a recorder in slow motion, deep and slow.

I’m too confused to be afraid, but I see Alfonse drop to his knees and bring the knife to my face. The tip of it is near my cheek, then I can sense it’s near my neck. I want to move, but I can’t. He leans over me and I feel the prick of the blade on my throat, but then I hear a loud pop that makes me jump.

Just one pop, and Alfonse is gone.

I’m staring at the blurry ceiling of the garage with my back on the cold concrete. I hear muffled voices and words I can barely understand—something about sending a hand somewhere, and dumping something else in the river.

“Dominic,” I hear a voice say. I think it’s my dad. “Dominic, are you okay? Come on, get up. We gotta go.”

I feel my father lift me up off the floor, but I’m still groggy. Everything is still blurry, but as my father helps me walk to the Cadillac, I look back and see a body on the floor, and there’s blood.

I know it’s Alfonse.

Even through blurred vision, I know I just saw a dead body for the first time. More importantly, I just saw my father kill a man.

Alannah

“My goodness. You look beautiful, honey.”

My mother snaps another picture of me in my off-white homecoming dress as I stand next to Marcus Smart, my date for the dance. Marcus is wearing a dark gray suit and he really looks great in it. He’s sixteen and just under six-foot tall, with skinny arms and short brown hair. Apparently I have a thing for basketball players, because every boyfriend I’ve ever had has played for the school’s team, and Marcus is no exception. We haven’t been going out for long, but he’s a nice guy. He’s sweet and is always going out of his way to spoil me, which can get a little annoying at times, but it’s better than dating an asshole. He’s definitely not a bad boy, though, and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Tonight’s the homecoming dance, and it’s been a week and a half since I’ve seen Dominic. I don’t know what’s going on with him but he hasn’t been at school at all, and I haven’t even gotten an answer when I’ve tried calling him, which is unusual. I’m worried about him, but one thing I know for sure is that Dominic Collazo can take care of himself, so I try not to let it bother me too much. I’ve just been wanting to see him since my parents told me we’re moving to Alaska soon. I’ve tried to use the time to figure out a way to tell him, but I haven’t come up with anything.

Marcus and I spend another half an hour posing for pictures before my parents finally let us leave. Marcus, a sophomore, is driving his mother’s red Honda with one hand like he’s been doing it his whole life, and he puts his other hand on my knee. I smile when he places it there and he smiles back, then looks straight ahead.

When we get to the dance, there are people and decorations everywhere. The school colors are purple and white, and it’s like those two colors have taken over the world the second we step out of the car. There’s purple and white flashing lights bouncing off the walls outside, and even more of them dancing around the room when Marcus and I step inside. Purple streamers lay spread across the floor and music blares from gigantic speakers in every corner of the basketball court that’s been turned into a dance floor for the night.

“Wow, they went all out,” Marcus says, raising his voice so I can hear him.

“Sure did,” I reply. “You wanna dance?”

“Not yet, let’s mingle a bit. I wanna see if any of my people are hear yet.” Marcus speaks to me without looking at me as he scans the room for his friends. He starts to walk away and I contemplate following him, but I see something out of the corner of my eye that makes me stop.

I notice people looking in the same direction, watching

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