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Blinking a few times, I shake my head. “What? Why?”
“The stupid old guy wouldn’t give him back the ball that Hammer had accidentally kicked over the fence.”
“So, he killed him?”
“Yep, it was a hell of a mess to clean up too. I still remember my uncle dry retching for days afterward.”
My mouth widens in horror and disgust as Luca starts to laugh.
“Why is that so funny?”
“You should see the look on your face. Lighten up, red, I’m kidding. We call him Hammer because he broke his nose when he was a kid, and now the end of it looks like a hammer's head.”
“That is not funny!” I pout, crossing my arms over my chest.
“We may be the mob, red, but we are not all psychopaths.”
“Hah!” I raise my brows. “I beg to differ.”
The door opens, and a new brute walks into the apartment holding a big box. He is tall, with dark skin and jet-black hair. His muscles bulge underneath the black t-shirt he’s wearing. I am surprised that he is allowed to just walk in here unannounced. He didn’t even knock, but as Luca walks from the kitchen to greet him, he seems unfazed by the intrusion.
Luca takes the box from him and places it on the bench. “The cat things you ordered.” Luca points to the box. It suddenly dawns on me that I have been standing here with my mouth gaping open. I slam it shut.
“This is Joe. He will be on guard outside the door for the next eight hours. Just in case you decide on getting some more fresh air,” he torments me, making me feel like the size of an ant. I glare at him.
Hammer strides in, carrying a paper bag and hands it to Luca. “I’m off, butch.” He stops mid-sentence to look at me, then back to Luca.
“She knows. Don’t worry.” Luca reassures him as a look of relief washes over Hammer’s face. He gives me a smug look as he pats Luca on the shoulder like he feels sorry for him that her has to deal with me.
“See you tonight.”
Joe and Hammer leave, the door clicks closed behind them. Luca opens the brown paper bag, pulling out some fresh croissants. “You want some breakfast?” He holds one in the air. I am starving, but my stomach is still churning from the overdose of testosterone I just digested. Luca alone is intimidating enough, but when you add ten tonnes more muscle to the mix, the extent of the danger I am actually in starts to become so much more real.
I shake my head to Luca, holding my stomach. “How many men do you have working for you?”
Luca stops mid-chew to regard me for a moment before continuing to eat his croissant, choosing to ignore me.
“If I am going to die anyway, what does it matter if you answer my questions?”
“Exactly. Why does it matter?” he answers sharply.
“Because I am curious.”
“Isn’t that what got you into this mess in the first place, red, your curiosity?”
He makes a good point, so I don’t argue back.
“I am going to shower, and then I have some business to attend to. You will be alone, except for Joe, who will be right outside that door.” He points to the entrance as he steps towards me, stopping mere centimeters from me. “So don’t try anything, or you will leave me no choice but to tie you up like an animal next time I leave.” He breathes his hot stale whiskey breath in my face. “Am I clear?”
I want to spit on his face or slap it. I can’t decide, but I know that would not be wise given his last threat. Standing on tiptoes so I am more eye level with him, I narrow my eyes.
“Crystal,” I bite through my teeth at him. He looks at my lips, eyes darkening dangerously as tongue traces his bottom lip. Leaning his face towards mine until the tip of his nose touches my own. I suck in a breath, not wanting to back down, but at the same time wishing that I would not be so stubborn and just back away.
His heavy breathing mirrors mine as I swallow back the thick lump in my throat. His stare is so intense I can’t bear it. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was about to kiss me. His mouth opens for a second but quickly closes. Torment flickers for a moment in his eyes before stepping away.
“Good,” he clips, then walks away down the hallway to his room. The door slams, leaving behind an eerie echo that vibrates deep into my rapid-beating heart. I let out a long shaky breath and flop down onto the sofa.
Relief drenches me, but if I am to be totally honest with myself, there is a hint of disappointment there too. Did I really want him to kiss me? Of course not! The thought is as ridiculous as it is absurd. Yet, a part of me strangely wonders what it would be like to be kissed by darkness. Would I get pulled into the depths of it to drown? Or could there be a gentleness to the beast they call butcher hiding underneath?
