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Nevio cocked an eyebrow, his answering grin giving me heart palpitations. He let his gaze move down his body, and my eyes followed as if drawn by an invisible force. He was in a tight black tee with a black leather jacket and black cargo pants that fit enough to show off his trained body, especially his booty. I knew because he’d worn these pants around me before. Black boots rounded the outfit off.
Nevio motioned at his watch, which also had black carbon on a red face. “Time to leave. Come on, girls.”
Carlotta and I followed him down into the basement. He led us through the corridors until I lost my bearings. I rarely went down here anyway, but I had a feeling most people would have lost their orientation by now. “Why are we down here?”
“Because we want to get you to your first party in style!”
We moved through a hidden door behind a shelf and eventually arrived at a steel door. Nevio entered a code into the keypad, and it opened with a groan. Behind it was a tunnel. The steel door closed behind us the moment we stepped through. A massive steel gate was in front of us, separating us from the rest of the tunnel. It smelled dank and as if someone had emptied their bladder close by. A motorcycle leaned against the wall inside the gate.
“What is this place?” Carlotta asked with a wrinkled nose.
Graffiti covered the walls, and puddles littered the ground. The tunnel had a sort of oval shape, and it wasn’t very high in this part. There were maybe three hand-width between Nevio’s head and the ceiling.
“There’s a labyrinth of tunnels beneath Las Vegas. More than a thousand homeless live there. It’s also a hub for criminal activity of course.”
“Camorra operated?” I asked.
“Nah. This part of the underworld is not directly controlled by us, which is why some individuals come here hoping to keep their profits to themselves.”
“So your dad doesn’t care?”
“As long as it’s not a big part of business, he thinks people who live like rats should be treated like one. The only time the Camorra intervened was when your grandma tried to purchase drugs down here away from your dad’s watchful eyes.”
I swallowed hard. Dad and Mom had never mentioned anything. It was disconcerting that Nevio knew more about my family than I did.
“Is it dangerous down here?” Carlotta asked, rubbing her arms.
“Definitely. During flash floods, you need to seek a high spot or drown. If you’re referring to the people living down here, they won’t bother us.”
Nevio grabbed the motorcycle and entered a number into another keypad, so the gates in front of us swung open.
“Girls, choose your spot,” he said, motioning at the bike. He sat as close to the handlebars as possible, leaving little room for us. We’d really have to press together.
Carlotta looked horrified.
“I know you’ve ridden on a bike with Massimo before, but I suppose you have a lower tolerance for feeling up my six-pack than his,” Nevio mused, then jabbed a thumb to the spot right behind him. “That’s your place, then.” He flashed his teeth at me. “You can hug Rory.”
I wasn’t sure if he was insinuating that I didn’t mind touching his six-pack. If so, he was right, though this wasn’t how I envisioned it. I perched on the bike behind him. “What am I supposed to do with my legs?”
“Keep them off the ground,” Nevio said.
I had to press my crotch against Nevio’s ass and press my front against his back so Carlotta had enough room to sit. I wrapped my arms around Nevio and pressed my palms flat against his stomach. My cheeks burned, and heat flushed the rest of my body at our closeness. I could feel the hard ridges of his six-pack through his thin tee. Every part of Nevio was hard. Well, almost every part of him. The thought made my cheeks heat furiously. I’d often dreamed about running my fingertips over his abs and down to the delicious V I often saw when he trained or when we were at the pool together.
Carlotta slung her arms tighter around my waist when Nevio started the engine. The sound carried in the tunnel and amplified until my ears rang from the roar.
Carlotta let out a little screech when we jerked forward, and then I heard nothing but the wind rushing in my ears and the angry roar of the motorcycle as Nevio weaved past dirty puddles at a maddening pace. I wasn’t sure how he even knew where to go or how he could see anything ahead of us in the unsettling darkness of the tunnels, which the small headlights could hardly penetrate. I supposed he and the rest of the Unholy Trinity had spent plenty of time down here over the years, which was easily as unsettling as the tunnels themselves.
On occasion, I caught a glimpse of life in one of the tunnel branches, flashlights or fires, tents and moving shadows. Headlights in the distance made me tense. But I realized they weren’t directly pointing at us and not moving. A car waited at the opening of the tunnel. We drove up a slope and finally hit open air. Nevio hit the brakes and brought us to a standstill beside the car: his Dodge Ram.
Carlotta still clung to me even when Nevio turned off the engine.
Massimo hopped out of the car. Alessio remained seated in the back with his arm propped up on the open window.
“Fuck him playing the gent,” Nevio said in a low voice to me when Massimo helped a shaking Carlotta off the bike. “Damsel in distress never worked on him before.”
I laughed. “I think Lotta doesn’t have the stomach for rides like these. It was intense.”
“But you do, skater girl,” Nevio said. Did he sound impressed?
