Page 146 of Alessio

The man reached over and patted Corrado’s head like he might for a goddamn puppy. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re a smart man.”

Annoyed, Corrado waved his arm to knock Cree’s hand away from his body, lest the fool pet him again. “Knock it the fuck off. Either tell me where Alessio is, or—”

“Or what?” Cree cocked his head with a slight smirk that rivaled the devil’s. “Because one of us can make threats and demands, and one of us cannot. Guess which one you are, Corrado? Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

Fucking asshole.

“I’ll go speak with Dare,” he muttered, pushing up from the mat to stand. “And see what he can tell me.”

“Wise choice,” Cree replied, “not that he will tell you anything, either.”

Right.

Well, Corrado would try.

Cree lounged at the edge of the ring, resting his arms over the ropes as he eyed Corrado while he gathered his things. All the while, he said nothing, but he didn’t wipe that amusement off his damn face.

Corrado headed out of the gym with his phone in one hand, and his discarded cross-body bag in the other. The bag wasn’t his style, but neither were the jeans and faded T-shirt he’d thrown on that day to go with his runners, either.

He didn’t come to The League to look like he walked out of his parents’ mansion, though. He came here because he needed to work out some of his frustration, and there was only one person who might help with that in a short amount of time.

Cree.

Or rather, he usually helped with that. Today, he only pissed Corrado off and left him with more questions than answers.

Speaking of which …

Swiping his thumb over the screen of his phone, Corrado woke the device up, and typed his pin in. Pulling up the call icon, he selected the top contact highest on his list.

Alessio.

He hadn’t bothered to call the man for the last week and a half because he assumed it would be pointless. Being on a job meant Alessio needed to leave his phone behind, and when he was back, then he would call Corrado, or show up at home.

This time, Alessio did neither.

He was back.

But where?

Despite being back in Vegas for the last week, Corrado had a flight to catch tomorrow that would take him back to Toronto for the weekend. His parents annual Halloween party, something they threw every year for all the kids who lived in their gated community, was on Sunday evening, and if he didn’t show up …

He’d never hear the fucking end.

Which meant if he didn’t get ahold of Alessio, and let him know where he would be, if the man wanted to see him, it was going to be several more days before they got together. Corrado didn’t like that at all.

The past while had been hell on him. He didn’t like being alone, and if he couldn’t have both people he loved, then he needed one.

Where the fuck was Les?

In his head, the phone rang and rang. By the fourth ring, Alessio’s voicemail would pick up because the man wasn’t answering his calls. Or maybe it was just Corrado’s number he didn’t want to pick up.

But why?

That heaviness came back in his chest.

Hard.

Thick.