Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(61)
He had to talk.
A lot.
He had to listen, too.
It almost made him miss the years before he was a made man, when all he had to do was slam his fist into someone’s face to get what he wanted.
Life was not that easy, now.
Frankly, it was better he had learned to tamper his temper. Bosses—good ones—didn’t need to use violence as a first resort to get business done. That simply wasn’t how Cosa Nostra men behaved. Gian had been lucky enough to get all of the roughness out of his system before he earned his button, and it made the transition of becoming a made man easier.
To an extent …
His phone buzzed in his pocket as the men droned on around him. He almost didn’t pick up the call, as all the people who would usually be calling him at that time of day were sitting around the restaurant, waiting on their meals. Cara, the only one who might call him, should have been at university.
When the buzzing persisted, Gian pulled the cell out and checked the screen. The sexy image of Cara shooting him the peace sign and winking lit up the phone. Gian answered the call instantly. He put the phone to his ear as he stood from the table, turning his back to the men and walking away so his conversation couldn’t be overheard.
“Ciao, bonjour.”
“I saw it again.”
Gian tensed. “Saw what, mon ange?”
“The car. The car, Gian. I saw it again!”
He didn’t have a damn clue what she was talking about, but the frantic pitch her tone took on was enough to make him turn back and head for his table again. He grabbed the jacket hanging off the back of the chair, waved Constantino off when the man stood with questioning eyes, and headed for the front of the restaurant.
“Okay, you saw a car, Cara. What car?”
She made a desperate noise that cut him deep, her panic searing through the phone like she was standing right in front of him. She was across the city, but damn it, Gian swore he could feel her fucking fear radiating all the way to him.
He was already out of the restaurant and moving toward his car and waiting enforcer by the time she gained enough of a breath to answer him.
“The car! With Chris—that day, Gian. All the noise and the gunfire. The fucking car!”
“Are you sure?”
Gian only asked because Cara insisted she remembered nothing about her drive-by attack, except the pain she felt when she hit the ground. She didn’t have distinct memories of what happened leading up to it, and discussing it was an emotionally taxing event.
“Yes,” Cara hissed. “I saw it and I knew.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“Where are you right now?” he asked.
“At the café I like. I wanted a snack before my next class.”
“Can you stay there?”
“I’m not leaving!”
Her screech almost made his ear bleed.
“I’m twenty minutes away, Cara. Get something to drink, I’ll be there by the time you’re done.”
“Okay.”
Fuck.
He wished she didn’t sound so frightened and panicked. He knew she had a lot of baggage regarding the drive-by simply because it reminded her of Lea, and of that event. Her memories of her attack were clouded with the ones she had of Lea’s, and even trying to talk about it put Cara in a bad place. That—and only that—was the reason why Gian didn’t push.
Gian scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s fine. It’ll all be fine, bella.”
“Hurry,” she mumbled.
“Already on my way. Try to relax.”
Easier said than done, he knew.
Gian said goodbye, and slipped his phone into his pocket as he took the keys to his car from the enforcer. He did not leave his car unattended after the bomb incident. “Follow me in your own car.”
Chris nodded. “Got it, boss.”
Gian broke at least a dozen traffic laws, but he cut the twenty-minute drive in half. He couldn’t find a place to park, so he simply yanked his car over to the side of the road right in front of the café windows, ignoring the horns honking behind him.
Cara flew out of the café damn near to the second Gian cut the engine, and jumped into the vehicle without even looking over her shoulder once. He pulled the car back onto the road, much to the chagrin of the other drivers he had cut off, and hit the gas hard.
“I thought it was going to happen again,” Cara whispered in the passenger seat.
“It’s not going to happen again. Tell me what you saw.”
“The car.”
“Yeah, I got that. I need a bit more info to go on, though.”
Cara let out a hard breath and ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t even know how I forgot that was the car—it’s so fucking yellow.”
Immediately, Gian hit the brakes and pulled the car into the nearest parking lot. “Say that again.”
“What?”
“The color of the car.”
“Yellow?”
Gian nodded. “You’re sure that’s what it was.”
Cara blinked. “It was yellow. I see cars all the damn time, but not one like that.”
“All right.”
Gian cut the engine and got out of his vehicle, rounding the side to open Cara’s door. She simply stared up at him, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Chris had pulled up behind them, his car still running and waiting.