"Bec-'' My words are cut off as Enzo hauls me into the air, jogging down the steps with me tossed over his shoulder. He doesn't put me down even as he slams through a side door. Air blows across my skin and I shiver slightly. I close my eyes, feeling dizzy as I jostle around on Enzo's shoulder. He finally comes to a stop and I hear the car door open before he's pushing me inside. I land painfully on my shoulder before righting myself. And just like last time, Enzo’s getting out of the parking lot before I can even buckle my seatbelt.
Fumbling slightly, I manage to get it into place as Enzo turns a corner sharply. Sirens sound in the distance and I glance behind us, watching as blue and red lights head in the direction of the hotel.
My hands are shaking slightly and I shove them under my thighs.
"How many shootings am I going to find myself in the middle of?" I don't expect the question to leave my lips, but it's not as if I can take it back. And I actually don't expect Enzo to provide me with an answer.
"I don't know.” I watch the back of his head shake slightly. “Two isn't a bad number. Usually, the family is involved in more than that in a week and you've been here for a couple of months now. You should consider yourself lucky."
Consider myself lucky?
A sound passes my lips and I can't determine if it's a whimper or a crazed laugh.
I push my head into my hands.
No wonder Giovanni hasn't been focused on killing me himself, he knows I'll eventually die in the crossfire of one of these shootings.
Maybe it's not such a bad thing, all things considered.
***
No one mentioned the shooting the next day or the day after that and at this point, I know it's just not going to be brought up. Which means, I'm back to devoting my attention to being a spy instead of worrying about the shootout at the hotel.
A wariness has settled into my body and I try to combat it with positive reinforcements.
If you find the rat, then maybe Giovanni will let you go.
Life hasn't been as bad as you expected. You weren't locked in a basement or sold into the sex trade. You can certainly make it through three more seasons of this.
I push a hand through my hair, accidentally slamming my drink tray down too hard on the bar. Dave jumps slightly before arching a brow at me.
"Sorry," I mutter to him. I slide onto one of the empty bar stools as I wait for him to fill my order. My feet are throbbing despite the flats I'm wearing tonight and my shoulders feel tight. The club has been even busier than usual the last two nights and the physical toll of it combined with the mental toll is starting to get to me.
Just push through, Winter.
Dave places my drinks on the tray and his eyes narrow slightly as he stares at me. "Need a ten?" he asks, looking around the room. "I'm sure one of the other girls can cover for you."
I shake my head, dragging myself to my feet. "No, I've got it." I offer him a tired smile before moving over to my table. I issue the drinks off, checking to make sure the patrons don't need anything else. When they don't, I move in the direction of another one of my tables, but I pause when I hear Amarie's voice.
It's coming from one of the booths and her tone is hard, her words coming harsh and quick. I glance around the room, but no one else seems to be paying attention so I move closer in the direction of her voice.
"Merde. To be clear, you've broken all the protocols in place and yet you expect me not to be pissed off," Amarie hisses, her accent thicker than usual.
"This is an emergency job and we didn't have time to wait," a deep voice replies.
"You won't have time for breathing if Giovanni Costa catches you in his club, and I'll be damn if I let you drag me down with you."
"You're overreacting."
"I'm not. I'm working. Come back later or wait until I can step out. I'm not going to negotiate with you out in the open." Amarie's voice lowers slightly and I can't quite pick up on what she's saying.
What sounds like a hand slams against the table and a glass rattles. "Keep fucking with me and I'll rip your balls off and shove them down your throat, lèche-cul." The venom in her voice is so thick, I find myself recoiling.
"You wouldn't because it'd show who you really are. It'll expose you."
"I'm willing to risk it."
Silence lingers at the booth before I hear the man let out a scoff. His head raises up and I quickly move out of view around the corner. I wait a few moments before peeping around the corner. I nearly jump out of my skin as I find Amarie watching me. She's leaning against the booth, her jaw tight and her arms folded over her chest. Her eyes hold mine for a moment longer before she raises a brow and turns, leaving me staring at her.
And that's it, she's most definitely my number one suspect.