Page 33 of A New Days Don

“Fine, but I’m out now, and it doesn’t look like there is a problem, so let’s go chat with others and see what information we can gather,” I tell him, trying to shimmy between him and the car, but he stops me, one of his hands pressed firmly to my core, making my breath hitch. My gaze flicks up to him, and he gives me an unimpressed look.

“When was the last time you were out on the streets interviewing criminals and sex workers?” He asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. He continues, “Never. Because these people don’t want to be interviewed. You approach them looking for answers, all you’re going to get is spit in your face and lies. I would rather not have to get my hands dirty tonight, so follow my lead.”

There is a lethal, unspoken promise in the way he speaks about not dirtying his hands. There is a part of me that wants to question him, but he pulls away and takes my hand in his, this time not giving me a chance to decide whether to take it or not.

“We are a happy couple, enjoying a night on the town. We are looking for drugs and some recommendations for a good time.” Massimo murmurs quietly and quickly to ensure we are both on the same page for whatever story we, or rather he, is spinning. We walk the barren street towards the low rumble of cars and horns honking.

When we round the corner, the name Sin City takes on a whole other meaning. To our right, a man is lying in a pile of old, threadbare blankets, hissing as he injects himself with God only knows what. Another man shouts to a group of ladies, while one of them shoots him the middle finger. When a car horn blares from beside me, I stumble into Massimo, his arm wrapping smoothly around my body, holding me close to his side. His warmth cocoons around me as the men and women chattering with one another on the litter-covered sidewalk part for us. Their eyes bouncing back and forth between us.

“Heeeey you… Pretty laa-dy, should ditch the priss… I show you a good time.” A man approaches us from our right, his breath reeks of alcohol and rot. He hiccups at the same time Massimo lets loose a warning growl. A pernicious promise. The man’s eyes widen as he stumbles back.

“She’s fine. Get lost.” Massimo snaps, pulling me along.

When I dare to break contact with the drunk’s worn, lost grey eyes, I flinch at the silent threat and blood lust lurking behind Massimo’s. A look I have never seen, even on some of the most awful prisoners. It isn’t the look of an out-of-control sociopath. This is the look of a cunning, systematic psychopath.

A shiver runs down my spine. Not one of discomfort or self-preservation, but one that is vaguely familiar to the attraction I feel for this man.

I really need to speak to Annalese about this. There is no way it is normal to find a psychotic look attractive.

Massimo’s gaze locks onto something, and suddenly, he is walking with purposeful strides that make it hard to keep up with him. We approach a man standing off to the side, a cigarillo lazily resting on the corner of his lip as he puffs a large plume. The cherry flares barely light up his face in the dark.

My palms begin to sweat as we approach him. I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel his gaze sliding down my body, lingering on my bare thighs. Without thinking, I shift closer to Massimo.

“What do ya’ want?” The guy snaps, and my pulse spikes. I clench my hands into fists to keep any of the panic that wants to wash over me at bay.

Breathe in, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four, five, six—

“Hey man, my girl and I are looking for a good time. You know, Sin City and all that.” My breathing stops. Everything in me stills. I look up to Massimo incredulously, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. His hand on my waist pinches me, and it takes everything in me not to react too obviously, but the way his voice relaxes, and he emphasizes the word sin makes it hard.

“I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t have nothing.” The man huffs, his arms crossing over his chest, “Get outta here.”

“So, you’re telling me that I paid Miss Crystal two hundred and only got my cock sucked?” I cough. I can’t help it. Who is this man that I am with right now?

Massimo’s hand slips from my waist to my hip this time, patting it in a silent warning.

The man leaning against the wall takes a puff of what is left on his cigarillo before tossing it to the ground with a practiced flick, “Does your girl know you had a gummer from her?”

“What’s it to you? Either you want to sell us the goods, or we are out of here.” Massimo drawls, clearly done with this conversation.

“What are you looking for?” Suddenly, Mr. Defensive has eased slightly.

“Have some Molly or Acid?” I school my features at the brazen request. I don’t work with petty crimes, but I am still an officer of the law, and those drugs are banned for a reason.

The guy narrows his eyes on me, and my cheeks heat at the scrutiny. He sees right through my poor display. I know it, he knows it, and Massimo knows it.

Before Massimo can say something to the drug dealer, I pop up on my tiptoes, my heart beating wildly out of my chest. I tilt my head, so my lips are close to Massimo’s ear. His jaw clenches. His arm is currently wrapped around me, tightening and pressing me against his strong torso. I didn’t have a plan, only that I am trying to play my role better, so I whisper, “I really suck at acting…”

There is a rumble through Massimo, and his hand squeezes my ass, making me gasp. There is a cocky grin on his face as he eyes the dealer, watching him carefully. I don’t know what comes over me, but I nip his earlobe, tugging it between my teeth. Something about it feels like the normal thing to do. I don’t know why.

Massimo grips me tighter, and this time, it’s his breath catching in his throat, making me feel more powerful than I have any right to feel.

“Fuck, baby,” Massimo growls lowly, but loud enough for the dealer to hear. His eyes flare with the same heat I feel burning its way through my body. I swallow the knot in my throat, smiling sheepishly up at him as he attempts to compose himself then turns back to the dealer.

“She wants Molly. Either you have it, or you don’t. Don’t waste our time.” Massimo says in haste. For the first time since I’ve met him, Massimo’s voice is breathless and rough. White-hot desire pulses through me from the heady mixture of Massimo’s masculine scent, the dark sin that surrounds us, and the bead of confidence that hums in my veins from the way he clings to me.

I softly glide my lips down Massimo’s neck, his skin somehow even hotter than the desert air around us. On a breathless chuckle, Massimo adds, “Can’t disappoint my woman.”

My cheeks flame as my eyes flit to the dealer, who nods curtly towards an alleyway.