Carmelo: A Dark Mafia Hate Story: Chicago Crime Family Book 4 by Ginger Talbot

Author:Ginger Talbot [Talbot, Ginger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

12

Savannah

The Xanax has barely had time to kick in. A crowd of their cronies is waiting for me in the lobby, and they silently surround me as soon as I step out of the elevator–as if I’d scream for help or try to run for it.

I wouldn’t do that even if there were other tenants in the lobby, because if I did, it would be a death sentence not just for me, but for them.

There are two cars out front. Claudio and Heather head to one of them, and Carmelo and I make our way over to the stretch limo.

Being outside the building is excruciating. Waves of dizziness sweep over me and every breath that I suck into my lungs feels like it’s on fire. My bones are Jell-O and my stomach has turned to water.

Move. Move. Move.

The air is like ice, but I barely register the winter chill. It’s like my skin’s forgotten how to feel–except when Carmelo touches me. I take slow, measured steps, only focusing on what’s directly in front of me. Carmelo. I block out everything else around me. The people milling about on the sidewalks almost undo my concentration, but with several deep breaths, I’m able to stave off the terror that threatens to bring me to my knees.

When we reach it, breath I’d been holding for the last several seconds swooshes from my lungs. Carmelo opens the door and I stumble in, nearly collapsing. He climbs in next to me and shuts the door.

The limo pulls away from the curve, and I choke on a sob. I can feel the Xanax starting to kick in, but it’s not enough. The biggest challenge is yet to come, and I’m already spent.

“You’re all right,” he growls. He runs his hand down my arm lightly, and my nerve endings crackle under his touch.

I should push him away, but I don’t.

“When we get to the club, do what I tell you. Keep your eyes trained ahead and block it all out. If you have to, close your eyes and I’ll lead you forward.”

I don’t say a word as I shiver in his embrace. I don’t think I can do it. I’ve overestimated my strength and the closer we get to the club, the more my stomach feels like it’s about to revolt.

“Kitten, look at me.”

It feels like years since he’s called me that. The strain is wearing me so thin that I’ll take any hint of tenderness, even if it is false. My head tilts up and our eyes meet.

There’s a sudden tenderness in his voice. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Do you trust me?”

I look away, chewing my lower lip. Do I? How could I, considering where his loyalties lie. Considering everything he’s done to me so far.

Yet, some twisted part of me does believe that he means what he says. Maybe I’m just desperate for someone to protect me. Or maybe my instincts aren’t completely skewed, and there’s some good left alive in him.

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