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My cheeks flamed red. “I killed an O’Riley, that’s why I’m back.”
Marco cocked his head. “One of the Irish?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why am I certainshehad something to do with that, too? Why can’t you see that death follows that girl? She’s nothing but trouble.”
“You know who you sound like? Ma.” I scoffed. “Don’t talk to me like you’re the older one, little brother.”
“Is killing her the only way to get your mind right?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “If you or anyone else lays a goddamn finger on Gia, I’ll kill you.”
“Ah, there it is.” Marco smirked as if he’d caught me in the trap he’d set. “I won’t let you ruin our family with an allegiance to a goddamn Silvani. I won’t allow it.”
I knew he wouldn’t allow it. I knew going back into the city that Gia was more my enemy now than ever. Before I killed the fucker, I left Marco to go cool off using the one thing I knew would help me relax.
* * *
The drive was eerily quiet.Gia wasn’t there to mess with my radio or distract me. It left me stuck in my own head, which was a real shitty place to be trapped in. I didn’twantto jump right back into my old ways, but the old me knew the only way to get me out of my head. I got out of the car and rolled up my sleeves as I walked into the club. The smell of salt and perfume hit me the moment I opened the door and the music thumped in my chest. Women danced on the three main poles in the center of the room, and my favorite dancer was one of them. We called her Socks because she always wore knee-high tube socks. Somehow, she made it look sexy as fuck. She smiled as she slipped her body down the pole until she was on her knees. She crawled toward the end of the stage, beckoning me with her eyes. I walked over and lifted her chin with a firm grasp. She licked her lips.
Even if I didn’t want it to be, part of me was being tugged back by Gia. If I was the normal Enzo I’d always been, I’d have taken Socks off the stage, paid her for her time, and broken all my club rules. But I wasn’t normal anymore.
I wanted to be, though. I’d try to be. I was going to force myself to be Enzo fucking Viglione.
I grabbed her hand and dragged her off the stage and toward the back rooms, passing signs that warned me to keep my hands off the dancers.Absolutely No Sexwas underlined in black marker. I pushed Socks into the closet-sized space and kissed her. I wouldn’t put my lips on any other dancer, but Socks was special. I turned her around and pressed my body against hers, pinning her against the wall. I growled as her ass poked out and rubbed against the front of my slacks. My hands trailed down her bare, sweat-sticky sides before landing on her bony hips. She felt nothing like Gia, which was maybe a good thing.
She started to ease down her panties, but I grabbed her wrist and stopped her. I couldn’t bring myself to fuck her, even with her warm body against mine. I turned her around to face me and kissed her again. I bit her lower lip as her hand worked my zipper down.
“Get on your fucking knees,” I said as I pushed her to the ground.
Her hand continued to work off my pants, and she pulled my cock from the confines of my boxers. I dropped my head back, my eyes closed. I tried to focus on the feeling of her fingers on me as she wrapped her hand around me. I fisted her dark hair, but a nagging feeling in my gut made my lip curl. It wasn’t her, she didn’t do nothing wrong, but I couldn’t go through with it. Just as she went to take me into her mouth, I grasped her hair and stopped her. She whimpered. I tugged her off her knees, and disappointment washed across her face.
“It ain’t you, Socks,” I said with a stroke of her cheek.
I zipped up my pants and grabbed my wallet, thumbing through bills and handing them to her. Her eyes lit up at the money, and I smacked her ass as she left me in the booth. I looked at my reflection in the mirror with a frustrated glare. I refused to admit that I stopped her because of Gia. Nah. But what other reason was there to push a beautiful girl away from your throbbing dick?
Goddamn it.
I let myself cool off before I headed toward the back of the club. I pushed through the metal door and watched the eyes turn toward me. Some were glad to see me, but others pinned me with accusatory stares. The seat where Bullseye always sat was vacant, and I felt a tinge of guilt.
“Enzo,” Kenny said as he rose to his feet. His jaw was slack, surprised to see me.
“Where’s Bullseye?” I asked, even though I knew.
“MIA. Gone for a couple weeks now.”
I pulled a chair out and sat down. “Shit.”
A lanky man stood and held his hand toward me. “Vinny Giordano, no relation to the watchmakers. I’ve taken over Bullseye’s runs. I’m not a shot like him, but I can hold my own.”
A laugh tickled my throat and made me run my tongue along my teeth to keep it inside. Dude looked like a salesman, not someone who could make the threats needed to secure payments. My eyebrow rose.
“I’ve worked with Bullseye for years. You’d have heard by now if I wasn’t capable.”
He was right, I would have, but I couldn’t get past the shady tax-accountant look he had going for him. “Yeah,” I said. If he could work, then work. I didn’t care. As long as I got paid.
Kenny’s eyes kept jumping to me, as if he had something to say. I hoped he would keep his stupid mouth shut and not ask about Gia. I didn’t need the questions, and none of them would believe the answers.
“Your brother was doing a fine job, Enzo,” came a voice from beside me. The man stood, slipped his hat from his head, and placed it on the table. Antonio Lucci. He was the big lug who always hung around, silent and brooding, like my brother. No wonder they got along so well. He was damn good at intimidation and encouraging people to pay, even when they had nothing to give. His size didn’t scare me, though, nor did his inflammatory words.
I stood, squaring off to him. “Marco isn’t next in line. I am.”
