Kane's Ransom: A BWWM Mafia Romance Novel by Samantha Westlake Read Free Book Online Page A

presumably led to a kitchen, holding two porcelain cups with tea bags sitting in them. "The water's on the stove right now, but it takes a little time to heat up," she explained in an apologetic tone. "It will whistle in a minute, and I'll go grab it."
    "Um, thank you," Killian responded awkwardly, accepting the cup from the younger woman's hand. The porcelain in his fingers felt old, almost as thin as paper. He wondered where she'd gotten the cups and saucers. After a moment, he set his down on the little coffee table in front of him, worried that he'd end up accidentally cracking the china by accident.
    An awkward moment of silence followed. "So, do you want to just start at the beginning?" Killian finally asked, not sure how to break the uncomfortable silence but afraid of what could happen if he let it continue on for much longer.
    Alicia jerked slightly, but nodded. "Um, yes. Sorry, I just don't know how to start. It's all so new, and scary..."
    "Start from the beginning," Killian repeated, trying to keep his voice soothing. He remembered the years of working on his bedside manner, learning how to make his patients feel at ease. Almost instinctively, he channeled that same tone now as he gazed at the nervous young woman sitting in the armchair across from him.
    The calm voice seemed to help. Alicia nodded again, taking a deep breath. "I, um, I have a brother," she began. "He's two years older than me, and his name is Marcus. He lives in Dallas, in the downtown area, where we both grew up."
    Killian nodded, keeping his mouth shut as Alicia gave a rough outline of her history, her childhood. She didn't paint a pretty picture. From the sound of her story, she and her brother had both grown up in extreme poverty, with next to no chance of ever making it out of the inner city ghetto.
    As he listened, Killian couldn't help thinking back to his earlier days, back to when he'd been doing his rotations, before his life and career went careening off of the tracks. He remembered sometimes seeing inner city gangsters brought into the hospital, often strapped down to the gurneys despite the half a dozen gunshot wounds in their thin, skinny bodies. Sometimes, those gangsters had barely been more than kids.
    From the sound of Alicia's story, she and her brother had barely escaped a similar fate.
    "As long as I can remember, he's always been willing to do anything to support me," Alicia went on, tears shining brightly at the corners of her eyes. "He worked day and night to help save up enough for me to get out of there, for me to go make a better life for myself. This-" she gestured around at the little house, the cramped but cozy and clean quarters, "-isn't much, probably, to you. To me, though, this is a million times more than what I had as a child, and I'm proud of earning this, of being able to pay my bills and live on my own."
    "It's a nice little house," Killian offered, feeling as though he needed to say something at this point. He still didn't understand what Alicia's problem was, but he believed that she'd get to it when she felt ready.
    She nodded. "I don't get to see my brother much," she admitted, shaking her head and looking down at the empty teacup sitting on her lap. "But he calls me every now and then. I want to help him, now - he freed me from all of the violence and abuse in the ghetto, and I want him to get free of it too. I owe him everything."
    "Did something happen to your brother?" Killian guessed, trying to figure out where the story was leading.
    He might have pushed too hard, he realized almost as soon as the words left his mouth. Alicia choked, leaning forward and covering her mouth as the tears dropped down onto the cup and saucer in her lap. Feeling uncomfortable but also partly responsible, Killian scooted a little closer, reaching out and patting her gently on the shoulder.
    "He called me yesterday," she choked out between sobs. "He sounded like he was in trouble, but he hung up before he could tell me