Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(25)
“Of course not. Do I look like a murderer?”
Big Joe shrugged. “All sorts of people kill for all sorts of reasons. There’s not really a look to them. Maybe it was crime of passion, or sometimes people who’ve been abused just snap.”
“The only person I passionately want to kill right now is Nico.” She turned back to the sink to wash her arms and neck, taking her time as she formulated a plan. Maybe Nico was right that she would be a target outside, but better a moving target than a sitting duck.
“You know Mr. Toscani?”
“I thought I did. Now, I’m not so sure.” She tipped her head to the side, tried to force a blush. “Could you give me a minute to … ah … use the restroom?”
Big Joe shook his head and kicked at the stone holding the battered door open. “Sorry, love. Not going to happen. Mr. Toscani said not to leave you alone.”
Damn it. She needed that door closed. She scrambled to find some way of convincing him to leave her alone and came up with the one thing she would never in a million years have imagined she would say, a betrayal of everything she had fought against when she realized her father despised her for being a girl. She hadn’t been able to make herself play the woman card in Vincenzo’s, but since it was clear Nico wasn’t going to let her go, she had no choice.
“It’s … um … that time of the month.” Mia glanced around and lowered her voice, feeling no small bit of remorse for falling back on the stereotypical alpha male fear of all things period. “It’s kinda messy to watch. And really, there’s nowhere I can go in here. Look at this ass. There’s no way I can’t fit out that tiny window, and if I don’t deal with it now, it’s just gonna leak all over the place, drip on the floor—”
“Whoa.” Big Joe held up his hands palms forward, and took a step back as if she might infect him. “Okay. Woman things. Not a big fan. You can close the door to do … what you gotta do. I’ll be right outside. But don’t take long.”
“Thanks.” Mia dragged the stone inside and closed and locked the door. She’d never had to escape from anywhere before, but she’d seen it in movies. Taps were good. They made noise, and in this rusted out, leaky bathroom, a lot of noise. Too bad they had her damn purse. She could have just called for help.
Heart pounding, she climbed on the toilet and peered through the glass. No bars. No lock. But then who would be stupid enough to break into a Mafia clubhouse? Maybe the same type of stupid person who would try to break out. She slid her hand around the window frame and cursed under her breath. It was sealed shut. She would have to break the glass, and even with the tap running it would draw attention. Well, she’d already dipped a toe in the water, might as well go for a swim. Mia turned off the tap and shouted through the door. “Do you have any tampons?”
“Fuck.” Big Joe muttered. “This is why we shouldn’t take women prisoners.” And then loud enough for her to hear, he yelled. “I’ll get Cherry. You stay put or I’m not gonna care that you’re a girl, and I’ll treat you the same as I would any dude who tried to escape.”
“It’s not like there’s anywhere I can go, especially not in my condition,” she retorted as she quickly hefted the rock. When she heard his footsteps fade away, she turned on both taps and flushed the toilet for maximum noise, then threw the rock through the window. The glass cracked and splintered, shards clattering over the toilet tank and onto the floor. Mia froze, certain that someone might have heard, but when the footsteps didn’t return, she untied her boot and put her hand inside, using it to clear the small shards of glass from around the window frame. Slipping it back on, she climbed on the tank and pushed herself through the window.
“Cherry’s coming.” Big Joe knocked on the door. “She’s got your … girl stuff.”
“Great! Boy do I need it.” Mia yelled over her shoulder, realizing as she hung half in and half out of the window, that the forward approach wasn’t the best idea. But now she was stuck, and her ass clearly was bigger than she’d thought because no matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t get through. She scrambled, kicking the wall and the toilet tank as she tried to shake herself free. Her undone boot came loose and tumbled to the floor. No time to retrieve it. With one last shove she pushed herself through and tumbled headlong into the garbage bags piled below.
“Open up, honey.” A female voice called out. “I got what you need right here.”
Mia pushed herself up and limped for the road, her booted foot thudding on the sidewalk. She heard a shout, the splinter of wood, and the slam of a door. She sprinted away from the garage, her heart pounding so hard she thought she might break a rib.
Run. Run. Run.
She turned the corner and raced down the empty street, the thrill of escape tempered by the loss of her boot and the reality of being on the run from three crime families who all thought she was responsible for the massacre. If she didn’t make it home …
No. Defeat wasn’t an option. Tonight, she wasn’t a victim. She was free.
And she intended to stay that way.
SEVEN
“Are you sure you need me there?” Mia folded her arms and leaned against the wall in the bedroom of her brother’s lavish penthouse, all cool marble and floor-to-ceiling windows with incredible east to west views of Las Vegas. Three days after her dramatic escape from the Toscani mob, life was back to the crazy kind of normal that was Mafia life.