Page 125 of Avenging Azalea

“Sit down, Matt,” I ordered, and just in case he hadn’t already realized this wasn’t a social call, I raised my gun. His eyes grew huge, and his hands shot up in the air like he was surrendering. “I said, sit down. We need to have a chat.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, moving slowly as if any sudden movement would cause me to shoot him. In his defense, it might. The excuse would be nice.

“You will.”

Once Matt had sat down and his hands were in his lap, I tried to see him through the lens of a normal man. I tried to shed the suspicious nature of someone born into a mafia family where every person you met was a potential threat.

“Where were you?” He licked his lips. “I asked you a question, and I don’t like to ask things twice. Answer the fucking question.”

“I was at a bar,” he said.

“What bar?”

“Club VYCE.”

“That place has a reputation. Many girls have been roofied there. Is that what you were doing? Just because you didn’t bring anyone back to your condo doesn’t mean you’re not a slimy piece of shit.”

His face blanched. “No, I swear. One of the bartenders is a friend of mine, and a group of people I went to college with were going there tonight to reconnect. I swear, it was my first time. I’d never do that to anyone.”

Annoyingly, my instincts told me he wasn’t lying. Fuck, this guy had to have something fucked up about him.

“I’ll be checking your story, Matt. You better be telling the truth.”

“I am, I swear.”

“Tell me who you work for, Matt.”

His brow furrowed. “I work for myself, you know that. I own a clinic.”

“I don’t mean your vet work. Who else do you work for?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Turning the gun toward the lamp on his nightstand, I fired. The soft pop of the silencer went off a second before the lamp exploded. Matt jumped away from the sound, covering his head as he pissed himself. That was all I needed to see.

He had no professional training, and no one, no matter how talented, was this good of an actor. There was always something that gave them away, a tiny hint that alluded to the skills learned for situations just like this. The survival instinct that kicked in and unmasked them, if only briefly.

“Please don’t kill me. I don’t know what you mean,” he begged, his body shaking.

Walking over to where Matt cowered on the bed, I pointed the gun at his face. He began to blubber, repeating his desperate pleas.

“Shut up, Matt, and listen,” I said. He nodded and pressed his lips together. “You seem like a decent guy, but you will no longer press Fawn for a date, you won’t flirt with her, and you’ll never touch her again. You will continue to train Fawn, but if you lay a single finger on her again, if you guilt her, or try to win her heart in any way…I’ll be back.” I touched the cold barrel of the gun to his forehead. “And next time, I won’t be as nice.”

I stared at the cat as it wandered over purring, rubbing itself against Matt’s face, and shook my head. This was why I was a dog person.

“And get yourself a guard dog. That cat is a disgrace,” I said as it meowed and licked his cheek. He nodded hysterically.

I flung the bedroom door open with a bang and looked over my shoulder at Matt.

“Oh, and if you call the cops, be sure to give them my whole name and then enjoy sitting in prison with only your regrets to keep you company.”

He shook his head. “No cops, I swear.”

I marched out and down to the back door of the condo. Naji sat there, staring at me as I climbed into the SUV.

“So, did you find out what you needed to?”

“Yup. Apparently, I’m the psycho asshole, and Dr. Taylor is fucking perfect.” I glared at Naji.