Nico and Dean share a strange look. “What?” I ask.
Nico wraps his arm around me. “Don’t forget that I met them, Lily Pad. I saw the way they all looked at you.” He chuckles. “I guarantee that they’re already on their way here.”
As much as I’d like to believe that they trust me enough to let me handle things myself, I know better. With a sigh, I hold out my hand. “I need to borrow your phone.”
Chapter
Seventy-Two
WEST
Cursing, I hang up after leaving yet another voicemail on Lily’s phone. Is this karma for all the times she tried to call us after we abandoned her with no explanation?
“She’ll be okay,” Xander says, trying to convince himself as much as me. But the worry on his face makes me feel sick. Carmine Constantine is one twisted fucker. Our girl shouldn’t be within three hundred miles of his cruelty.
“Can you go any faster?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. I know Zeke is just as desperate to get to her as Xander and I are, but it feels like the car is barely moving. He could be going 200 miles per hour and it wouldn’t be fast enough for any of us.
Justifiably pissed, he bares his teeth at me. “I’m going as fast as this old fucking jalopy will go, asshole. We’ll get to her.”
I force myself to sit back and close my eyes. I’m grateful he had a car waiting for us at the airport, and even more grateful that it contains enough of an arsenal to take out a small army. But that gratitude is overshadowed by the tightness in my chest. A thousand sickening scenarios of what could be happening to her right now rush through my head at a million miles a minute. “What if we don’t?” Opening my eyes, I look over and see his jaw clenched tight.
When we finally arrive at the ostentatious golden gate of Carmine Constantine’s mansion, the gates are wide open. We jump out of the old minivan before it comes to a complete stop and sprint down the driveway, but my footsteps falter as soon as I see two cop cars and an ambulance parked in front of the house.
My heart lurches so violently that I almost throw up. A cop approaches, and I’m vaguely aware of Xander talking to him, but I’m too busy looking for a sign of Lily.
Bile surges in my throat at the sight of Nico’s battered face. I want to shout at him, demand that he tell me where she is, but the words get stuck. Noticing me, he excuses himself from the cop he’s talking to and walks over.
“Where is she?”
He shakes his head. “She’s gone.”
Gone? She can’t be gone. I glance at the ambulance, and that’s when I see the covered body on the gurney. My knees buckle and black spots dance before my eyes, but a strong hand on my shoulder brings me back.
Nico’s face is inches from mine, and his lips are moving. It takes me several seconds to make sense of his words, and when I do, my hands ball into fists. “She’s alive, West. She went to her mom’s hotel. We didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be here when the cops showed up.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! She’s fine?” My lungs burn as I remember how to breathe. “Lead with that next time, asshole.”
“Sorry, buddy.” He laughs nervously, and his hand falls from my shoulder as he takes a tentative step back. “It’s been a hell of a day. She used my phone to call you. I thought she left you a voicemail.”
“A voicemail?” I glance at my cell but there’s no voicemail notification. Then the rest of what he says registers in my brain. “Her mom’s hotel?” I thought her mom died when she was a baby. Have I stepped into an alternate universe?
“Yeah, her mom. I told you, it’s been a day. The Fontana. Biggest on the strip. You can’t miss it.”
I know the place. And I know who owns it. Jesus fucking Christ, Lily. “Who’s that then?” I jerk my head in the direction of the ambulance.
He bows his head a little, playing the grieving son with the cops around, but I don’t miss the way his lips curl up. “Dear old Dad.”
“My condolences.” Then I add, quietly, “Should I be thanking you?”
He shakes his head. “Wasn’t me. You need to ask Lily what happened. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all myself. It seems my sister is a whole lot tougher and smarter than I’ve given her credit for.”
Damn right she is. His sister is the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. “Yep. She’s something else.”
He rubs a hand over his jaw and hums his agreement. “But know this, West.” He gives me a hard look, and I see all those years of Mafia service in the set of his jaw. “As tough as Lily is, she’s still my sister, and if you ever break her heart …” He glances over at Xander and Zeke. “Any of you.”
“We’d never hurt her, Nico. She means everything to us. I might consider putting her on a leash after this little stunt she just pulled, but I’d die to protect her.”
His eyes narrow. I’m not sure he appreciated the leash joke, but then the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin. “She’s sure going to keep you all on your toes, West.”
God, I sure fucking hope so. “I promise I’ll never break her heart.” Ever again. Shaking off the lingering guilt over the worst mistake I’ve ever made, I glance back at the battered old minivan, then take in the mansion in front of me. I need to see my girl right fucking now, and that piece of shit isn’t going to be fast enough. “You got a car we could borrow?”
“Sure. Garage is in the back. Keys are hanging by the door. Take whichever one you want.”
“So you’re telling me that Lily’s mom is the head of the Mafia? Like the whole Mafia?” Xander leans over the center console from the backseat of the Lamborghini Urus I borrowed.
“If she owns this hotel, that’s exactly who she is.”
“This situation keeps getting weirder by the minute.” Zeke frowns. “Why hasn’t she called us and let us know that she’s safe?”
“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Xander asks, and the atmosphere in the car changes on a dime.
“Nico said she tried to call me. He thought she left a voicemail, but she didn’t.” We all glance at each other before I turn my eyes back to the road.
“Of course she wants to see us. She loves us,” Zeke mutters. “And I don’t give a fuck who her mom is, we’re taking our girl home with us.”
I bring the Lamborghini to a screeching halt and toss the keys to the valet as we run into the hotel. We don’t know what room she’s in, and there’s no way a halfway decent hotel would hand a woman’s room number to three strange men. This hotel is a shitload better than decent, and the woman in question is the owner’s daughter, so I have no idea how we’re going to find her, but I do know that nothing will stand in our way.
But before we can come up with a plan, we’re approached by a smartly dressed guy with a shaved head and the squarest jaw I’ve ever seen. “Sirs, I believe you’re looking for Ms. Constantine?”