AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Slowing until he’s no longer kissing me, he pulls away, his dark eyes pinning me in place as he stares.
Eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence between us.
“I shouldn’t like you as much as I do. You’re nothing like...”
“Like what?” I whisper when he doesn’t finish.
“I’m not sure.” His warm, rough palm leaves my hands to cup my cheeks tenderly. “Like other badges. Like other women I’ve been with. Like... Fuck, Bri, I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “You’re different, and I like you. That’s it.”
“We can’t have a relationship. You know that, right?” The sour taste in my mouth makes my nose crinkle. He obviously doesn’t like my words either by the slow, deep breath he takes. “D, you’re my job. At least, at the moment you are, and it’s not ethical. It’s—”
“Wrong? Dirty?” His tone turns cold.
“Why do you continue to come back to this dirty shit?” I turn the key, releasing my other wrist from the handcuffs, then drop them on the desk.
“Nothing. Whatever.” He steps away from me, turning and walking to the window behind his desk. “If you have anything you want to ask, just get it over with so we can be done.”
“D?”
“Don’t,” he barks. “You want this professional, fine. Do your job, detective. What are you here for?”
Pushing off his desk, I pull up my jacket, smoothing my clothes, and then grab the handcuffs, walking out without another word. He doesn’t try to stop me and that etches its way under my skin.
CHAPTER TEN
Iwrap up the rest of the week without hearing from Drago. I drove past the docks a couple of times, but I didn’t stop any of the times I saw his vehicle parked outside. Yesterday, I approached two of his employees, asking a couple of questions, but they both shut me down and quickly walked off.
I hung around for a minute, watching. The blonde, Rebecca De Luca, the one I saw the first time I went inside the warehouse, kept stepping out of the loading bay eyeing me. She’s the only daughter of the notorious Alessandro De Luca, who, from everything I’ve gathered, Vincent Acerbi brought with him to America from Italy.
Mr. De Luca has been in and out of jail more times than I can count with all my fingers, yet, he’s never served more than six months behind bars. He may be dirtier than Drago’s father if the rumors and stories have even truth behind them.
Mike once told me the most horrid scene he’s ever shown up to was a family slaughtered. Their seventeen-year-old son was brutally beaten, only breaths away from death himself. The boy claimed De Luca himself murdered his parents and two sisters, but before an official statement could be taken, the boy disappeared from the hospital he was taken to, even with police protection. Sadly, his body was found days later, chopped into pieces and discarded down a dirty alleyway.
A knock pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes immediately flicker down to where Gabe is lying atop a pallet on the floor. He’s startled at the loud bang on my door.
We haven’t been home long. Ms. Lincoln and I took him back to the after-hours clinic where her daughter works for another check-up. I wanted to make sure he was putting on the weight he needs. So far, he’s gained eight ounces in the three weeks I’ve had him. I was a little disappointed it wasn’t more, but the nurse practitioner said it was perfectly normal and we didn’t want him to gain weight too fast. Slow and steady was what she said was healthier for him. I felt more at ease when she told us that.
“Shh,” I soothe him by running my palm down his back once before climbing to my feet.
Stephanie was right. He is a good baby. And he’s already sleeping longer at night, which is definitely good for me.
Another harder and louder bang sounds through the wood from the other side of the door.
“I’m coming,” I say in a high-pitched voice but not so loud it’ll scare Gabe.
I look through the peephole seeing the source of my sour mood all week.
Drago.
My belly instantly warms despite still being pissed at him.
What in the hell is he doing here, at my residence? For a brief moment, I ponder whether or not I should answer the door. He already knows I’m home because I went and opened my big mouth, and even though I know I shouldn’t open the door, I do want to know why he’s here.
Flipping the lock on the door, I open it partially and stare at the jackass. His eyes are cast to the floor. Slowly, they rise to meet mine. He doesn’t construe the confidence I’ve always witnessed before this moment. His eyes are apologizing, yet I don’t get the feeling he’s the apologizing type.
I’m the first to break the silence.
“Is there a reason you’re here, or are you planning on standing there all night looking like a scolded puppy, not knowing what to say?”
