Page 59

Story: Bad Behavior

Dante

Remo studiedme from across the room. His eyes angled into pin points, his face sharp and peeling back like a hungry lizard. Tilting his chin up, he pressed his palms meticulously onto the desk, the tips of his fingers bending up at the knuckle.

We both stood quiet, just observing each other. This was a battle of more than muscle, this was some serious mind fucking.

And I was going to blow his out of his fucking skull and into the ceiling.

My hands were open and by my sides, chest hammering with adrenaline.

If I had no control the guy would already be dead.

He was lucky I had self-restraint and respected my father enough to follow orders. But that restraint only went so deep—it was hanging on by a thread.

“Dante, would you care to explain what this little visit is all about?” There went his hands again. One finger swirled imaginary circles over the desk, the other whirling in the air before coming back down to rest.

If I had to torture that man I knew I'd go for his hands first.

Walking to the desk, I held the back of one of the chairs. “May I?” I asked.

Holding out his arm, his lips closed tight as he nodded. “Of course.”

Sitting down, I steepled my fingers against my lips, and arched my brows for him to sit too. It took him a second to catch what I was waiting for.

Taking his seat, Remo cleared his throat and scooted himself in. “Those men out there have nothing to do with our business, Dante. I need them for something else, something . . .” Pausing, his hand circled the air. “Private.”

“Tell me, Remo, this private business you have—what is it?”

I was playing cat and mouse, ready to bait him. I was putting the pieces together, who those men were, and what they were here for.

Bounty hunters hired to find his fugitive.

The woman he lost, the woman he craved to keep for his own sick games. He wanted Ivy, and he had no idea he was never getting her back.

“Please, let's not mix our business with such foolish questions. You don't need to worry about this, it won't impact our contract. You'll have your load in on time, and these men will never be here again.”

A deep laugh rolled out of my mouth, head shaking side to side. “That's where you're wrong. You see, our business has already been affected, and those men will have nothing to do with you. I want you to go out there and tell them you changed your mind, tell them to leave and never come back.”

Holding out his hands, he fanned the blank space. “No, no, no, I can't do that. I need them, I've lost something that needs to be found—immediately.”

“I know.”

His face went static, lids expanding. “What do you mean you know?”

“I know.”

“Be specific, Dante. What do you know?” I didn't answer. Instead I smiled the cruelest and most devious smile I could. “You know where she is?”

“We want what's ours, what you owe to us. You lost us over a quarter million dollars, Remo . . .You did that.And you let Sesto roll on us without one fucking word to my father.”

“Dante, that's not how it went. Sesto went on his own, I had nothing to do with that.”

“You mean you didn't give him the copies of our receipts, or access to transaction dates and delivery locations? He pulled that shit out of his ass with no help from you? My father might take your word on things, but I don't trust you for a second.”

“I wouldn't do that to your father, he's been good to me, Dante.”

“Too good, if you ask me.”

“Good thing no one is asking you then.”