Page 19 of Savage Roses
The second we’re inside the bedroom and I’m certain we’re out of earshot, I rip off my robe and tank top, rushing to the closet.
“Don’t speak to them,” I say. “Don’t say a word from here on out, Jon. Let me do the talking.”
He doesn’t answer, his anger still an intense presence. Jaw clenched and muscles taut, he yanks open a drawer and pulls a T-shirt over his head.
“I’m going to get you off. This is a bogus ploy to intimidate you and get to me. My father’s behind this.”
“I never would’ve guessed,” Salvatore snaps suddenly. “Your father, the good man you blindly trusted for how long, has a hard-on for targeting me! Absolute fucking shocker, Phi!”
“Shhhh, lower your voice! No arguing. No outbursts. No explosions of your temper. Not right now. Just… for once… let me handle this. My father has no idea what he’s started.”
And it’s true—I’m livid, shaking as I snatch the only dress that could work in a professional setting off a hanger. When packing for our mini vacation I wasn’t thinking about work attire.
We’re supposed to be spending a lazy morning with the cats, sipping coffee. Instead, we’re being accosted by the police, sicced on us by my vindictive, vengeful father.
As if he hasn’t hurt me enough.
I’d break down in tears from the pain of it if I weren’t so fuckingpissed.
My father once told me I’m the only person he knows who’s more ambitious than he is, who’s cleverer and sharper. He’s about to find out the truth to his words.
I will happily take him down myself.
“C’mon,” I say once in my heels, striding to the door. “We’ll be home by dinner.”
* * *
I keep my promise—Salvatore and I make it home by dinner time. It’s no easy feat considering the situation, but they didn’t have enough to hold him. We presented an alibi for the night in question, and after sitting through two hours of questioning, it became clear the case being built was flimsy at best.
For now.
They cited crucial information provided by a credible informant as their probable cause.
However, with no direct evidence or anything else tying him to Mirra’s murder beyond a brief encounter at a shopping mall last year, the officers had no leg to stand on. They had to release Salvatore.
An arrest warrant shouldn’t have been signed in the first place. Something I made explicitly clear as we left the Montbec Island station, and I promised to follow up on once we returned to Northam.
Why Montbec was even handling the arrest when the case was being investigated by Polk and Northam PD gave me a splitting headache. Officer Yancy claimed it was because Salvatore was cited as a flight risk, particularly since he’s been out of town for almost two weeks.
But the real reason is plain as day—my father’s toying with us. I bet he’s having a brandy, sitting in his office, with his Northam Society club ring on, laughing over how he’s ruined the last day of my vacation with Salvatore.
Thanks to him, we spent it holed up in a stuffy police station the size of a garden shed, reeking of dank earth and fertilizer like one too.
Once home in the beach house, I kick off my heels and kneel to greet the cats. The poor things have been left home all alone for the day; we left in such a rush I didn’t have a chance to replenish their water.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, scratching under their chins. “We’re home now.”
Salvatore followed my instructions from start to finish. He’s barely said a word the entire afternoon. He remained completely silent throughout the questioning at the station, allowing me to provide answers to their questions. Though if looks could kill, he would’ve murdered every police officer within a five-mile radius.
As I stand up, I’m prepared to face more of his sullen mood, only to be pulled into his arms. My heart flutters at how fast I’m jostled, and what I find myself on the receiving end of—Salvatore’s unblinking, oceanic blue-green eyes peering at me.
An intensity in his gaze so overwhelming, it elicits a shock of electricity down my spine.
Just like that, I’m swept up in him. I’m under his spell, my lips parting, my skin warm.
“Thank you,” he says, his arms low along my hips. “Sorry I snapped at you earlier. It’s not your fault your father did what he did. I was pissed they’d shown up like that.”
“It isn’t over just yet. It’s an open investigation and you’re their primary suspect. This means we’ll have to be very careful. You can’t be anywhere near anything linking you to Mirra or Belini—are there any loose ends that have been left hanging?” I ask, my brain buzzing. At the same time, I’m dizzy from his closeness and his effect on me, feeling breathless desire rising up inside me as Salvatore tightens his hold on my hips. “Mirra was receiving payments from Volchok. Very interesting that that’s the murder my father has decided to pin on you—”