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“Look, about what happened between us…” I said, trailing off lamely.
“I couldn’t agree more, darling. Back to work as usual, yeah?”
I sighed, ignoring the vague feeling of disappointment. “Exactly,” I said, nodding. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
He revved the throttle, and I went inside the building, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor where I headed down the long, beige hallway, moving just a little bit carefully. My muscles felt like I’d given them a run for their money, and the ache between my thighs was new. I mean, sex wasn’t exactly a new thing, but I’d never before had sex with a man of Brute’s… caliber. That was definitely one for the memory bank.
At the end of the hallway, I turned left, taking the last short hall to my apartment at the end of it. There were no sounds coming from any of the apartments, but that wasn’t surprising. It was a fairly upscale apartment building, filled with plenty of professionals who lived by the nine-to-five clock. In an hour, people would start coming home from work, unwinding from their day at the office, making dinner, and doing whatever it was normal people did to occupy their evenings.
I stopped outside my door and fished my keys out of my pocket, but the little scrap of paper on the floor caught my eye and kicked my heart into overdrive. It was a little rectangle of unlined paper, two inches long and an inch wide.
The little scrap of paper I’d left wedged in the door.
It was a crude security system, but sometimes, simple was just as effective as all the modern, techy shit. And this time was no exception.
I grabbed my knife from the sheath around my ankle—because shooting off a gun in a quiet apartment building was one of those things that tended to result in a whole lot of questions. Questions like, “do you know there’s a dead guy on your floor?” and “are you aware you’re not allowed to murder people?”. Not questions that a girl associated with the Luciano family wanted to answer.
“You got a plan, darling?” a voice whispered from right behind me and nearly sent me jumping out of my skin.
I spun around, knife clenched tight. “Where the hell did you come from?” I whispered under my breath.
And how the hell hadn’t I heard him coming? A man that big, surely, he couldn’t do the same jungle-cat thing Nico and Gabe had a knack for doing.
Brute just smiled and cracked his knuckles. He looked ready to take on a whole swarm of evil apartment-burglarizing villains.
“There’s someone in my apartment,” I said, nodding toward the innocuous white slab door while an uncomfortable sensation slithered down my spine. Not fear; I wasn’t afraid. It felt like someone was in there reading my diary or rifling through my underwear drawer. Not dangerous acts, but invasive, violating.
“I gathered that,” he said, looking pointedly at the knife in my hand.
He moved to step in front of me, but I cocked an eyebrow at him and he stepped back, stifling a smile. Good, at least we understood each other here.
I slid my knife back into its sheath. “I’ll draw him out, you surprise him,si?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “And if he plans to shoot first and ask questions later?”
I shrugged. “Then that would suck, wouldn’t it?” I’d grown accustomed to playing the role of the sacrificial lamb—not that I wasn’t getting a little tired of it. But that was a conversation for another day. And besides, nine times out of ten, when some asshole broke into an apartment where you spent very little time, he wanted something more than to turn you into Swiss cheese the moment you stepped inside. And if it was one of Domínguez’s men, I had a feeling the guy would have a few questions for me before he put a bullet in my brain.
So, for now, I slid my key into the lock while Brute stepped away, pressing his big, muscular body up against the wall next to the doorway. He hadn’t drawn his gun, which I appreciated. The less noise we made, the better.
The lock clicked open, and I turned the brass handle.
There were no lights on in the apartment, but sunlight shone in through the part in the curtains in the living room, illuminating the interior just fine. At first glance, there was no sign of an intruder. Everything I could see in the living room and the kitchen and dining room beyond it appeared untouched. He could have been busy in one of the bedrooms, or maybe even come and gone by now, but I had a feeling the guy was right behind the door, just waiting to catch me off-guard.
What an idiot.I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him.
Instead, I opened the door wider and took a step onto the welcome mat in my apartment. I would have loved to swing the door hard at him, but that move wasn’t likely to take him down; it would just give him warning that I knew he was here.
I took another step inside. He wouldn’t be able to let me take another one; I’d see him, and that would rip away his element of surprise.
I held my breath, not sure if he was going to grab me or try knocking me out. It felt wrong; it went against the grain to act oblivious when every instinctive fiber in my body was screaming at me to react.
A hand appeared from behind the door, far above my head, clutching the heavy, ceramic keyholder I kept on the small table by the door. I had just enough time to duck inside when another hand shot out from behind me, grabbing hold of my would-be attacker.
Damn, for a man as big as Brute, he could sure move fast.
I ducked and spun, getting my ass out of the way in time for Brute to jerk the guy out from behind the door. I slammed the door shut a split second before Brute shoved him into it, face first.
He let go of the guy’s wrist and pinned him there with one big hand around the back of his neck, pressing his face so hard against the door, the only sounds he made came out muffled.
