Page 133 of The Obsession
I drop my arm and lean in towards Dominic. “Are there any public bathrooms around here?”
“Behind the church. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I say, passing him my phone. “Stay and watch Peach. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I jog across the road and head down the side of the church, past the manicured gardens, rounding the back of the building. I inwardly groan when I see the short line. I shouldn’t have held on so long, but I’ve been busy helping and watching Peach have the time of her life.
This is apparently their third year doing this, and the crowds have grown considerably each time. I love how they give back. The rise in the cost of living has made things unattainable for some, so seeing people’s faces light up when they received hampers and Christmas meats was really heartwarming.
I’m not naïve enough to think there isn’t a dark side to the mob—I know there is. But being here today, helping hand out food and seeing kids having a great time, it’s hard to hold onto that thought. Christmas is all about giving, and the Cosa Nostra has gone above and beyond.
After I use the restroom and step over to the sink to wash my hands, I’m so focused on what I’m doing that I don’t register someone beside me until they grab my wrist.
“I thought it was you,” she says through gritted teeth.
My stomach drops the second I hear her voice. When I turn my head, my inkling is confirmed. Daisy. King’s wife. The President of the Steel Reapers. AKA, my worst nightmare.
Her grip tightens as she shoves me back against the wall, invading my space. “I’m not exactly surprised to find you hanging around a church with that squeaky clean, fucking soul of yours, but I’m curious why you’re suddenly in with the Mafia. And where the fuck is Muzzle?”
“W-we broke up,” I stammer.
“Don’t lie to me, cunt, or I’ll gut you like a fish where you stand.”
“I’m not,” I say, tugging my hand out of her grip.
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you here?”
“The Cosa Nostra own the restaurant where I work, and I’m friends with the wife of the underboss.”
Technically, that isn’t a lie. I just don’t mention Dominic. I’m not about to drag him into this. My gut tells me he has something to do with Mick’s disappearance, but I’ve yet to get confirmation of that.
Her gaze drags over my face, searching for something to latch onto, but I don’t give her anything else. I’ve probably already said too much.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth,” I say, brushing past her and heading for the door.
I half expect her to come at me from behind, grab me again and drag me back. But the moment I step outside, relief hits hard when I find Dominic waiting with Lil’ Peach in his arms.
As soon as his eyes lock on me, he frowns. “You okay?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the building I just exited.
I plaster a fake smile on my face as I reach for his free hand. “I’m fine,” I lie. “Just tired.”
“So is this little one,” he says, tilting his head towards Peach, who’s resting her butterfly-covered cheek against his broad shoulder.
I gently rub my hand over her back. “Are you tired, sweet girl?”
She nods, sucking her thumb, which is a telltale sign.
Dominic’s eyes move to me. “You want to split?”
I nod. “Sure.”
The last thing I want to do is hang around here after being accosted by Daisy.
We make our way down to the others and say our goodbyes before heading to the car.
I climb into the passenger seat while Dominic straps Lil’ Peach into her booster. My eyes don’t stop moving, scanning, searching … waiting. I can’t seem to settle; the knot in my stomach is pulling tighter by the second.
