-
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
destroy.
I can assume you know who I am?
Satan?
Ha! Even his laugh was evil.
Am I close?
You are a spunky little thing, aren t you? I see where that boy of
yours gets it.
Immediately, I was in his face. Why, you low-down bastard. You
better not touch my children. Do you hear me?
His gaze shifted toward Marco. An eye for an eye. A son for a
daughter.
Marco s jaw twitched. His face turned blood red. Once again,
Branson stood in between Marco and Geoff, remaining practical and
apparently wise to the fact that we needed to remain somewhat
sensible. Alanzo was counting on us.
My children haven t done anything to you! I yelled.
66 Destiny Blaine
No, they haven t, but their fathers have. I m surprised you aren t
more familiar with the Italian way. The sins of a father mark a child
forever.
I reminded myself to show no fear and changed the subject.
What have you done with Alanzo? I demanded. Where is he?
He s floating around these parts somewhere, Geoff said,
laughing.
The detective joined him. So we should expect his body to wash
up sometime soon?
Geoff s gaze held mine. Depends.
I felt like I d been hit by a Mack truck. You killed Alanzo?
Not yet, the old man said. But he should be dead within the
hour.
Why are you doing this? I wailed. Why can t you just leave us
alone?
He chuckled. What I do from here forward depends on your
husband. That is what you are, right, Marco?
I locked gazes with Marco. He didn t answer Geoff.
Well, well, well, what do you know? You really are a bigamist,
Mrs. Giovanni.
I thought my husband was dead.
You were mistaken, weren t you?
What do you want, Geoff? Marco asked all at once. What s it
going to cost us this time?
I want what is mine, yours, hers, and& He eyed Branson. Oh,
yes, this is better than expected. A beat later, he said, Wait a
minute. I know you. His expression went from one of recognition to
an outright sneer. I ll take what s his, too.
Branson s eyes went cold water blue. Didn t you already do
that?
Oh, my God! I gasped, searching Branson s face for any
indication. Had Geoff Alberto been behind his family s demise?
The Third Promise 67
Answer me, you coward! Branson demanded, thick veins
bulging like cords embedded in his neck.
Geoff stood. He walked toward the porch, but when he evidently
detected Branson behind him, he stopped abruptly.
I did, he calmly stated. And I ve never regretted the decision.
You fucking bastard. Branson clenched his fists, and two
lawmen stopped him from attacking Geoff.
After a few seconds, Geoff turned around, and with as much
wickedness as he could manage, he said, My men told me your
mother squealed like a pig when she watched my fellows kill your
brothers.
Branson s face turned to stone. His eyes became wild, like an
animal s might when he s caught in a hunter s wild game trap. Why,
you sick fucking prick! Branson made a sudden leap, and the butt of
a gun was slammed against the back of his head.
Branson! Marco and I screamed in unison.
I couldn t breathe. Everything seemed so surreal. There was a
scuffle, one where fists connected with jaws and guns were rapidly
drawn.
The good-guys-turned-dirty aimed pistols at our heads, and the
dirty detective yelled, Don t move!
I jerked. A body landed against mine.
Suzy, no, Marco said, gripping my hand like he thought I might
do something foolish.
Detective, Geoff said, smiling, let s take a walk.
After Marco helped me to a seated position again, I checked for
and located Branson s pulse, glaring at the other officers. Branson
moaned and started to move. I could see Geoff and the detective
exchange handshakes and money.
We ll triple what they re paying you, I said to one of the
officers while kneeling next to Branson. They seemed unwilling to
negotiate. Name your price!
The officers stared back at me like I hadn t spoken at all.
68 Destiny Blaine
Suzy, Marco whispered, placing a hand on my nape. It s going
to be okay.
Branson finally sat upright, groaning from the effort. He massaged
his neck and then called out over his shoulder, You can come out
now. I hope you got all that!
Had Branson gone mad? Did he have a concussion? Who was he
yelling for?
Three cameramen and several reporters stepped out of the closet.
Quickly, I averted my focus toward the door. Geoff Alberto s skin
looked ashen. He must ve come to terms with his fate almost
immediately. He didn t run. He spent his final moments as a free man
glaring at Marco, the hatred evident in his cold, horrifying eyes.
FBI is picking up the garbage off the sidewalk now, one of the
reporters announced.
Two agents rushed through the front door, flashing their badges.
Geoff s puppet-cops tried to hurry toward the back of the house.
Freeze! agents shouted. Nobody move.
Marco pulled me into his arms. He quickly covered my head.
Marco! Listen to me! I sobbed into his shirt. His men will kill
Alanzo now. If they get word of this, Alanzo is dead! We have to talk
to someone. Hurry!
In the middle of the commotion, I heard heavy footsteps behind
me. Gripping Marco s shirt, I turned to see who was there.
They tried, Alanzo said, picking the perfect time to enter the
cottage. I ran faster than they did, and, thank God, most of them
were lousy shots!
My gaze dropped to his leg and I noticed the blood pooling
around his ankle. Oh, my God, you re hurt!
With a lopsided smile and a seductive wink, he wrapped his arms
around me. I m willing to bet you can make it better.
I told you these two think you have some powerful stuff between
those legs, Branson muttered, still looking a little disoriented.
The Third Promise 69
Sniffling, I ignored Branson and framed Alanzo s face. I was so
scared.
I know, baby. You had every right to be.
A few minutes later, Geoff and his bought badges were in [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- zambezia2013.opx.pl