Pepper
I enter the stairwell and run up the stairs toward my suite. Probably not my brightest move, but I didn’t want to stand there and wait for an elevator. My body wants to run. To flee. I need to get away from the violence I just witnessed. And the consequences.
Tony just killed a man.
Tony just killed a man.
Holy shit, Tony just killed a man.
Right here. In the casino.
Granted, it was self-defense. But why was someone trying to kill Tony? And omigod, did he have to kill him?
Yeah, he probably did. The man had a gun. He tried to use it. Hell, he tried to use it on me. I could’ve died just now. Because of my association with Tony.
I don’t really blame Tony. But this underlines the point I’ve been trying to forget from the beginning-Tony is a dangerous man. This is the world he lives in. A world with guns and murder. A world of violence.
I want nothing to do with this. I can barely handle my days as a pop star. Why in the hell would I add such risk to the mix? Just because he opened me to a new world of sex?
Oh God. I stop to rest and catch my breath. I feel like throwing up, although I’m not sure if it’s from seeing a guy strangled to death in front of me or from running up five flights of stairs.
Fuck it, I’ll take the elevator the rest of the way. I push out to the landing and hit the call button.
I keep seeing Tony’s face draining of color, the regret in his eyes when he turned to face me. He wasn’t afraid of being shot at, or attacked. He was afraid of my reaction. Like he knew we were over. This was it.
And he’s right.
I get in the elevator and take it to my floor.
In my room, I throw my shit into a suitcase. I have to get out of this place. Now.
I don’t bother to collect Anton. Or my parents.
Certainly not Hugh.
I’ll text Izzy later. I put on a pair of sunglasses and a Dodgers cap and head outside to hail a cab to the airport. I own a whole big mansion in L. A. that doesn’t feel even a little bit like mine, but my parents are here, so that means it’s empty.
Seems like a good place to crash.
Tony
“Why do you think he was after me?” I kick the laundry cart carrying Ernie Denesto’s body.
“I don’t know. If you hadn’t killed him so dead, we could torture it out of him,” Stefano says drily. He, Nico and Leo met me in the basement to discuss the situation.
I rub my face. I know I fucked up. Big time. I can’t even begin to absorb what I’ve done to my relationship with Pepper.
“Let me guess. Your girl was present,” Nico says.
“She’s not my girl. Not after this.”
Fuck! Panic claws at me-the need to fix this coupled with total impotency. There’s nothing I can do to change what Pepper saw. I can’t make this assassin undead. I can’t wash the blood off my hands. The stains are too deep.
“Where is she now?” Nico asks. The question is deceptively casual, but really, I have a witness on the loose.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “She ran from me.”
“You gotta get that shit in hand,” Stefano warns.
I shoot him a dark look. He’d won his fiancée Corey by essentially holding her hostage after she’d witnessed a ‘situation.’ While I’d love to tie Pepper up and give her orgasms until she forgives and forgets that I’m a killer, I don’t think that shit’s gonna fly. And I’m not the guy who’s gonna force her. And I’ll fucking kill anyone else who tries, my best friends included.
“I’m sure Tony will handle it,” Nico says mildly.
I don’t have it in me to be grateful for Nico’s support. I don’t know how I’m gonna pull off any of this. And the part I especially can’t wrap my brain around is living without Pepper. Letting her go.
But I know that’s what needs to happen. She and I weren’t made to last, no matter how much she captivated me, lit up my world.
“So what’s the plan with this guy?” Stefano kicks the laundry cart.
“I’ll dumpster dump it. Cops will recognize him when they fish him out. They’re not gonna look too hard for his killer. Figure I did society a service today.”
It doesn’t feel that way, though. Not when it means losing Pepper’s regard.
Fuck.
“Good plan. Then figure shit out with Pepper. This is already starting to go off the rails. The last thing we need is Junior coming back and throwing his weight around.” Nico shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You don’t think Junior sent Denesto?” I have to ask it.
“No,” Nico says immediately.
“Definitely not,” Stefano concurs. “Not his style.”
“What if he wanted me gone without you two knowing it was him?”
Nico considers, then shakes his head. “I still don’t think so. You haven’t done shit to Junior. If he were mad, he would’ve punched you in the gut when he was here.”
It’s true. Junior thinks a good beat-down and a heavy dose of fear solves everything. In his world, I guess it does.
“Then who? Any guesses at all?”
“No idea. Too bad you silenced the one guy who could tell us,” Stefano says.
“Enough.” Nico shoots him a sharp look. “What’s done is done. We just gotta figure out where to go from here. Let me see if I can get someone on tracing money deposits to his bank account.”
“Thanks.”
He thumps my shoulder-the macho version of a hug.
I thump him back. “I appreciate the support.”
And I do. I know Nico and Stefano have my back. I just wish I believed they could help me this time.
But no one can.
There’s no helping the damned.