Page 10
“Mr. Verreault.” Marzano spoke, his deep, accented voice filling the room. “You were impressive tonight.”
Bennett’s tongue seized and all he could do was nod. His eyes remained fixed on the wall behind Marzano’s head.
Marzano’s tone remained cool and professional. “I would very much like to speak with you, Mr. Verreault, regarding a business opportunity.”
A lie. Marzano was expecting a name, which Bennett didn’t have. “I’ll give you the name of my agent,” he tried.
“Must we be so formal, signore? I prefer to deal with partners directly.”
Partners. Sure. Right.
Easton’s mobile buzzed at that precise moment. He checked it and grimaced. “I need to handle this. Benny, can I leave Mr. Marzano in your care for a few minutes?”
What else could Bennett do but nod? He was the captain, the face of the franchise. Refusing would be not only rude but out of character for him. “Of course.”
Marzano smiled at Easton, easy and non-threatening. “Do not worry about us. I will keep Mr. Verreault only for a short moment, then I will find my way to the exit.”
“Excellent. You have my number.” Easton shook Marzano’s hand and gripped his shoulder with the other. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Marzano.”
Easton was already speaking on his phone as he strode out of the gym, and Bennett watched him go with a mixture of anger and dread. He continued to pedal—churning, sweating—and said nothing, even after the door clicked shut and they were alone. When the other man didn’t speak, seemingly content to let the silence stretch, Bennett broke first. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.
“I would think that is obvious, no?”
“You can’t be here.”
“And yet I am.” Marzano took a step closer to the bike. “Stop pedaling.”
“No—and you need to go.”
Suddenly, before Bennett even realized it was happening, a leather dress shoe shot out and hit the pedal, jamming the gears in place. If the bike hadn’t been bolted to the floor, Bennett would’ve gone flying across the room. As it was, the force of the abrupt stop caused him to lift off the seat. “Fuck!”
A strong hand on Bennett’s shoulder shoved him back in place. “Are you ready to stop now?”
Like there was a choice? He narrowed his eyes at Marzano, who slowly lowered his foot to the floor and regarded Bennett as if he possessed all the patience in the world. Did anything rattle this man? In movies and TV shows, Italian mafia men were hotheaded and violent, loud. One wrong look away from beating the shit out of everyone. Yet Marzano’s expression revealed nothing, like they were in the middle of a business negotiation.
Somehow, that was even more terrifying.
“You hid from me,” Marzano said, shaking his head. “I had not imagined you to be such a coward.”
“I wasn’t hiding. I had other things to do.”
“Ma dai. Do you think I am stupid?”
Bennett wasn’t about to answer that. “I don’t really care what you believe.”
“Hmm. Did you find the present I left for you?”
Of course. Hard to miss an industrial-sized bottle of lube on your kitchen counter. “You need to go. We can talk about this later.”
“Something tells me you don’t really mean this. You will only run again. Hide and hope to avoid me.”
Fuck. Bennett rubbed his face under the brim of his cap. Marzano wanted the bad news here? Fine. Better than in Bennett’s apartment, where they would be totally alone. At least here there were people to come and stop the bleeding, if necessary. “I don’t have any names for you,” he blurted.
Which wasn’t entirely true. He had a list of eight names, guys who went to The Loop the night the girl was drugged. As promised, Noah showed him the chat (one Bennett hadn’t been invited to) and allowed him to make a list of guys. Bennett hadn’t decided what to do with the list yet, but he knew he wasn’t giving it to Marzano.
The Italian cocked his head and narrowed his eyes slightly. “This is disappointing.”
“I told you it wouldn’t be easy.”
