I retrieve my gun and tuck it away.

Her hands work absentmindedly at the dough. “It wasn’t easy to get him to where he is today. He suffered a lot.”

Spare me the history lesson.

Still, I listen, with my hands clasped in front of me.

“After he left, his new family didn’t want him, because he was too quiet.”

I don’t remember Joseph being too quiet, he never shut the fuck up.

“He had a few foster homes until he graduated from high school.” She molds the dough into small shapes but doesn’t continue.

“Then?”

“Are you going to kill him?” She meets my eyes.

“No.” I don’t hesitate and for some reason, it doesn’t feel like a lie.

She nods sharply. “Return tonight and I might have something for you.”

“How about now?”

“George and his men will be here in two minutes. They’d love to send your corpse back to Lucio.” She raises an eyebrow. “You killed his brother three years ago.”

That George. Fuck.

“I’ll be back tonight.” I brush past her and into the kitchen.

“I was going to say use the back entrance.” She smiles. “Jasper?”

“What?” I throw one last glance at the old woman.

Her face creases into a smile. “Thank you for protecting Joseph back then. You’ll love the person he became.”

“Tonight.” I wave the gun between us and step out straight into the pouring fucking rain.

Fantastic.

I go into a back alley and take cover between two closed shops. No one is here, so I’m temporarily safe from George’s gang.

Retrieving my phone, I put on the listening devices I installed in my little Petal’s house.

I should’ve put cameras. I tuck that idea away for later use.

No sounds come out, which means she must be at her shift. A smile tugs at my lips as I think about the way she walked to her car this morning.

She was so sore, she had to take an hour off to have a bath. There’ll be a lot of baths in her future. I’m sure about that.

Baths with me, where she’ll be tucked all over my body as I make her soreness better and worse at the same time.

If obsession has degrees, I’m at the drunk stage where everything and anything is up for grabs.

And my little Petal is my poison.

I spend a few hours at the local library, going through public newspapers from the time Sarah saved Joseph.

There hasn’t been nation-wide news about the disappearance of a boy, and Joseph’s mother is still a mystery.

I know she was Paolo’s woman, but she was neither his wife nor his whore. He never married before or after her.

I don’t know why I think Joseph must look like her. He couldn’t have been with her since he was an orphan at the time, from the mother side at least.

The Costas were gods by then. Before that, they had the Vitallios up their asses, making them lose one deal after the other, then Emilio, Paolo and Lucio wiped them off the face of the earth in a cowardly mass shooting.

Since then, everyone else bows to the Costa power.

The other families don’t obey them out of respect, but out of fear. They know the Costas have no moral code or mercy and would do the same to them as they did to the Vitallios.

After a fruitless search in the newspapers, I quietly sneak into Sarah’s bakery through the back entrance. It’s early evening, but I don’t have time to waste.

I need to get this over with so I can go back and break my little Petal a little more, get under her skin a little more.

Problem is, she’s getting under my skin, too and there’s no way to stop that.

My feet halt of their own volition near the kitchen’s ajar door. The stench of something metallic and potent fills the air instead of baked goods.

Blood.

I flatten my back against the wall and bring out my gun as I slowly push the door open.

If that fucker George is starting something here—

“Took you long enough.” Lucio stands over a corpse, a scowl written on his face.

Beside him, Stephan and Marco grin, their hands bloodied, droplets smudging their faces and shirts.

Sarah —or what remains of her— lies cold on the floor, her head snapped, lolling to the side at an awkward angle. Her nails are chipped, an object protrudes from between her breasts. Her panties are bunched to her ankles, soaked in blood.

The fucking animals.

They raped an old woman dry in the ass. An old fucking woman.

I’m tempted to put bullets in their heads, but I force my hand to drop to my side and to wear the blank face I’m so good at.

“I needed her for information,” I say in a bored voice, but a fucking fire rages inside me.

She was the last person who knew me and Joseph.

“I got it myself.” Lucio kicks her lifeless corpse. “You’re getting sloppy, Jasper.”

“I found her, didn’t I? The cleaners,” I motion at Stephan and Marco, “only followed me here and took credit for my job.”

“A job you’re not doing well.” Lucio appears calm, but I know when he’s at his limit.

He’s been dreaming about being the leader since his father was alive, and now that he has it within reach, he won’t allow anything or anyone to sabotage it.

“What did she say?” I throw a fleeting glance at Sarah’s corpse.

She was loyal to Joseph, but considering the torture she endured, she must’ve talked. At a certain point of torture, the brain shuts down and will do anything to stop the pain.

“He’s in the city,” Lucio says. “He’s hidden well, so he could be in a safe house or under some fucking witness protection program.”

“Is that all she said?”

“What else should she have said?” he asks.

“Just asking.”

Interesting. Sarah knew exactly where Joseph was, and she contemplated telling me, thinking I’d protect him. But when Lucio was involved, she kept her loyalty until the bitter end.

She really was ready for death.

“What happened to his mother?” I rip my gaze away from her and focus on Lucio.

“Where is that question coming from?”

“She could be hiding him.”

“Impossible.” He clicks his tongue. “I killed that bitch with my own hands.”

So that option is out. Back to the drawing board.

“I’ll find him,” I tuck my gun away and turn around.

“You better.” Lucio’s voice echoes behind me. “I have strikes, too, Jasper, and this is your fucking last.”

20

Georgina

The ER has been full of cases that broke my heart all week. From battered girlfriends to hurt children, I've seen more than enough to put me in a miserable mood all night.

This time when I walk into my apartment, my new habit is already kicking in, and I check the place to make sure my stalker hasn't paid me another visit.

I'm almost convinced Jas hasn't been here until I walk into my bedroom. The little gift he left me is right there, on my pillow.

I approach the bed and pick up a lacy pair of red panties. There's also a note on the pillow. It's my first time seeing Jas' handwriting. It's scribbly and barely readable, and even though I'm supposed to be pissed at him, it makes me smile.