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I take a second – since they kept me waiting – then lift my hand daintily, and he kisses it a little too slowly. “Participating tonight?” He puckers his lips, then receives a swift slap upside the head.
“That’s Hairtrigger’s sister, you dope.” Castor growls, and the big man drops my hand like it caught fire.
He grimaces. “Ah, um. Sorry, hun. Had no idea. You dressed up like all the others. Wait.” He turns to Castor. “Marco has a sister?”
Castor smirks at his friend, then switches his gaze to me.
I nearly melt on the spot. The club lighting passes through his eyes to show just how light and blue they really are. They’ve seen so much, and mine so little. I feel like a fawn who glimpsed her hunter. If he told me to get on my knees and beg for it, I just might.
“A hidden one, yes. But it seems today, she’s come to pay us a visit.” Castor leans back in his seat, judging me. I guess Marco didn’t tell Castor to look out for me after all. I’m a little sad at that, honestly. I was hoping this wasn’t dumb chance.
He could be lying, though. All mobsters lie. That’s what they do.
A lanky man in a fitted suit brushes by me, and I swear I felt one of his fingers touch my backside. Castor clenches his jaw when he sees my face, but the moment passes.
“Yo, Bull. We got stage set for ten minutes. You good to go?” The man lifts his chin, waiting for an answer. His goatee screams sleaze, almost as much as his wandering fingers.
Castor nods curtly, not saying a word, and I wonder if that’s because his lanky assistant just tried to cop a feel on me.
“So, uh, is Hairtrigger’s sister working? Does she have a name?” the big man asks.
“Go take a walk, Big Ace. I need a word.” Castor tilts his head at me, the knife tattoo on his neck reaching high to prick him.
“You know you’re going to give me a heart attack with all this moving around.” Big Ace squints at Castor, who receives a death stare in return. “Alright, I’m going, I’m going.” He slaps the table for the other men to get up.
Castor tilts his head again for me to take a seat next to him, so I do, and am draped in his scent from how close we are. The view is nice, actually. The stage seems bigger from this angle, and I wonder again what the hell is happening.
“Didn’t know the Valentinos were into Broadway,” I say.
Castor hoots at that. “Nice to see you, Gia.”
The purr of his deep voice makes my thighs tingle. I’m scared to look over, because I might give in to all those teenage urges I had to suppress.
“You too, Bull.”
“What? Don’t like my street name?” He drapes his big arm over the curved booth ledge, and I catch myself wondering what it’d feel like wrapped around me.
I flick one of his rings to push the thought away. “You really grew into it, huh?”
“Yeah, you remember me when I was a football throwing schmuck, huh?”
“I never thought you were—” I stop myself, feeling my cheeks grow hot.
“Listen, kid, I thought I’d pay you up front for entertaining us tonight.” Castor slides two minted gold coins across the table, so close to his fingers that I’d have to touch them to get my pay.
“Kid? I’m only five years younger than you. You’re thirty, right?”
“Old habit. It’s hard to believe you’re a grown woman now.”
That made me blush harder. I hate that he’s calling back to our past – when I was a stupid girl pretending I wanted nothing to do with him.
“Marco would Tony Montana me if he saw you sitting here right now.” Castor arcs an eyebrow.
Wait… is he suggesting we’re flirting?
“That’s why I’m here,” I lie, voice cracking from nerves. “How’s my brother doing anyway?”
“He misses you… but respects you enough to keep his distance.”
