“I should have thought about getting you a vase,” Aiden said.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll get one tomorrow,” I said. “Thank you.”
He took a seat on the chair across from the couch, and I came to join him.
“Is there anything I can get you? Water? Wine? Soda?” I asked.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind a—” he began but was cut off by another knock on the door.
“Aiden,” I said quietly. “Do you know if anyone followed you here?”
“Followed me here?” he asked. “No. I knew something was bugging you when I saw you last time, so I came into town to bring you some flowers. The roads were pretty empty while I was driving around, actually.”
“Oh.”
He stood up slowly, looking from the door to me.
“Is everything okay?”
“Desiree,” a voice came from the other side of the door. I recognized it immediately. It set my blood cold, and the breath whooshed out of my lungs like someone had hit me in the stomach. I began to back away, tripping over the couch leg and stumbling to my ass. “Desiree, I know you’re in there, ragazza.”
I tore my eyes from the door and looked at Aiden. I could feel the fear transfer to him, letting him know silently that the person on the other side of the door was a threat. A sudden calm washed over him, and I watched as his eyes narrowed and seemed to focus. His body language changed, became surer, measured. He walked up to me, reaching down and picking me up by the elbow.
“Your bedroom window. Now,” he whispered. There was no question in that command. My feet began to obey before I even knew what I was doing.
He followed me into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly and then going to a window before I could get to it and unlatching it. Pushing it up silently, he reached down and popped off the screen. Pulling it inside, he sat it on the floor and gestured for me to climb through. I looked between the door and the window, trying to will my legs to move.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you down and be out right behind you.”
I nodded and let him help me slip through the window. There was a row of bushes around the side of the house, just below the bedroom windows and circling over to the front. I dropped down quietly between the house and the bushes and ducked down. Aiden followed me, gently shutting the window as he hung from the ledge, and then impossibly quietly dropped down behind me. He took the lead, and we went to the corner of the house.
The man was still on the porch, but he was stepping off as we got there, and we ducked down. Thankfully, he didn’t see us, and he backed up, taking view of the entire place. Then he began to casually walk around the side of the house, passing right by us. I covered my mouth to keep myself from breathing too hard, and when he was out of sight, behind the house, Aiden grabbed my wrist and took off.
We pounded through the gravel driveway, heedless of the sound we were making, and he unlocked his truck with his remote key. The engine fired up before he had the door open, and I hopped inside, scooting across so he could get in the driver’s seat. I heard a shout in the distance, but Aiden had already pressed the gas, and we took off, diving deep into the side streets and taking corners quickly. I heard a car rev behind us, but just as it came into view, Aiden turned again, ducking out of sight before I could get a good visual on it.
Suddenly, we were on a back road leading up into the mountain. Before we got to his place, he pulled off the side of the road, holding out his hand.
“Give me your phone.”
“What?”
“They tracked you with your phone,” he said. “I need it.”
I handed it over, and he tossed it out the window, where it crashed down a gorge into the woods. He slammed on the gas again, and we began going up toward his driveway.
“What the hell was that?” he asked. His voice was even and level, but there was anger in his words.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, tears brimming at the edges of my eyes. “I didn’t want to bring you into this. I didn’t want anyone in it. I didn’t think they would actually come.”
“You didn’t want to drag me into what?”
“That man is trying to kill me,” I said.
“Why? What did you do?” he asked, turning toward his cabin.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything. He’s after me because of who my father was.”
“Who was your father?”
“Nicola Gianotti,” I said. “He was a Mob boss, and that man killed both of my parents. Now he wants to kill me.”