Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Is it tomorrow yet?

**ROMANY**

When I wake up I'm in Alex's bed with the covers pulled up to my chin. My body is nude, I can feel the soft drag of his sheets when I try and move my legs. But there is no one around me, although when I strain my ears to listen, I hear a familiar voice issuing threats from down the hallway.

*Mickey?*

*Mickey is here.*

I try to sit up, but my body protests. For some reason it feels like I've been sleeping for days, but that can't be right, can it?

*Oh my God! What if it is right? What if I somehow missed my meetup with Santos' men?*

"Shit!" I grumble as I straighten my back against the headboard of the four poster monstrosity that is Alex's pillar of rest. My breasts spill free of the covering and I'm glad to see that I was wrong, I'm not *completely* nude after all. Some kind soul took the liberty of dressing me in fresh underwear at least.

*But why?*

*Oh yeah. Dana.*

The memory of her face as she bled out flashes before my eyes and I resist the urge to smile. *Again.*

*Who the hell am I becoming?*

footsteps heads my way and I instinctively pull the covers up over my chest. When Mickey's bright green gaze catches sight of me, the concern in his eyes wrenches something in my chest. He shakes his head helplessly. "Doll," he whispers, stumbling to a stop in the doorway. He was obviously wearing a suit when he got here, but he must have shed the jacket and run his hands through his hair a thousand and one times. He looks like he's coming off a bender with his sleeves rolled up and the top three

he also looks

the covers that hide me from him as he leaps forward and gathers me in his arms. His scent envelops my body and I lean forward to rest my head on his shoulder while

one hand strokes up and down my

back to look at him, I ask, "How long have I been

his fingers, his eyes on my

a slow breath. *Good, not too late then.* "Why am

eyes muting. "What

of my memories, Dana's shocked face emerges, then I work a little harder, blinking a few times as I struggle through the fog. Bits and pieces beyond

carrying me to the

bathing me while I cried silently and shivered in the warm

dressing me

my vitals and speaking in a hushed tone while

must have

ask, my eyebrows drawing together in worry.

He's downstairs getting stitched up as we speak. Alex is being treated too." Mickey's eyes narrow, and one hand traces over my knuckles. "Why would you bruise your hands, doll? You didn't need to fight anyone." I snicker, the memory of punching Dana in the face tickling my lips. "That bitch was getting on my

his forearms flexing as he squeezes my palm in his. "Next time,

laugh out of me, but the moment doesn't last. The sound of my phone chirping with a text message stutters my breath. *Oh shit.

his gaze

don't have time

phone?" I repeat through