Page 3 of Dark Things (Payback Duet #1)

Stafford

I can’t let this go. I need to see her again. First, she was rude to Colt, like she has a right to be after he apologized, but then she has the audacity to confront me in class.

Following her and the guy she’s with, I make my way over, jogging to keep up. The guy notices me first and he pauses.

“Can we help you?” he asks. It’s not in a threatening tone, but it’s not the nicest either.

“I didn’t get to introduce myself before.

I’m Stafford Fitzgerald, but everyone calls me Staff,” I say, holding out my hand to him.

He smiles, and I feel a pang of something in my gut.

God, he’s beautiful, but if I’m being honest, so is she.

All dark hair cascading down her shoulders and moss green eyes that almost look unnatural.

He takes it, giving me a squeeze before releasing it. “Haunt Graves, and this spitfire is Reb Vischer, but I guess you know that from the smackdown she gave you in class.” His smile grows wide when he looks down at her.

She pinches his side, a smirk on her gorgeous face, but when she looks back at me her nostrils flare and jaw tightens. I don’t know what I did to get that kind of reaction, but it bothers me.

“Where did you guys transfer from?” I ask, hiking my bookbag up my shoulder a bit. I notice for the first time that Haunt is holding his bag and hers. I guess they’re a couple?

“Down south, Kentucky. Saratoga is different from where we’re from, but it has a similar feel, especially with it being racetrack orientated,” Haunt responds.

“You’re horse people? I wouldn’t have thought. You guys look more like…bikers,” I chuckle, motioning to their black clothes, tattoos, and boots. If they are a couple, they do dress alike. There’s a certain level of danger coming from both of them that I’m drawn to.

In my old life I would have run the other way. I was too straight and narrow, convinced that falling in with the wrong crowd would land me in jail, but now, that’s a joke. I’m definitely more trouble than these two college kids who dress fierce. I’m the real danger here.

“Oh, we’re that too. But horses are in our blood. Right, Reb?”

His eyes sparkle with mirth. She shakes her head and turns to me. “Yeah, what Haunt said. ”

I don’t know what it is about her, but I want to spend all my time cracking her outer shell so I can know the real her. It’s a weird feeling, since I never want to be around anyone except Colter and Brooks.

“I…” I’m about to ask them if they wanted to get the coffee Colter spilled all over her, but my phone rings. Holding up a finger, I answer it.

“Yeah.”

“We need to go see Mario, he just called Colt,” Brooks says.

“Okay, meet me at the car. I’ll drive us over.”

I hang up and look at the two people who have definitely sparked my interest. I’m trying to decide if that’s a good thing or not.

“Have to go, but it was nice to meet you both. Hopefully we’ll be seeing each other soon.”

I offer a smile, Haunt returns it, but Reb…she scowls, turning and walking away. Haunt looks at her retreating form and turns to leave, but gives me a nod before he goes.

Weird.

Mario’s club is in the downtown area of Saratoga, surrounded by all the shops and restaurants that the tourists frequent.

The town itself reminds me of something out of a Gatsby movie.

When I first saw it all I could think about was prohibition and the rich seeking refuge in the summers from the city.

Mario’s good at hiding his business in the open. You’d never guess Haven isn’t just a bar that caters to the local college kids. It’s a front for all the shady dealings Mario has his hands in. And there’s a lot.

“Did he say what he wanted?” I ask, closing the car door and activating the alarm. I look around, but no one is paying us any attention.

“Just that he needed to see us,” Colter says, looking down at his phone as we weave through the people walking on the sidewalk.

It’s not too busy this time of day, but people weave past us at a leisurely pace.

Nothing like the middle of Manhattan where everyone walks so fast, there’s never any time to smile or nod to each other.

We reach the door, and Brooks swings it open, marching before us into the dark bar. It’s eerie being in a place that’s supposed to be crowded with people dancing and drinking. An empty bar just feels wrong.

Silviano, Mario’s guard, is sitting in the hallway when we push past the curtain at the furthest part of the room. He looks bored, but that’s his normal face. Nothing going on with this guy.

“ Il Corvi , got summoned huh?” he chuckles.

Ever since Mario gave us that stupid name, it’s like we aren’t individuals anymore. I mean being called The Crows is pretty cool, but I wouldn’t let anyone else know that .

“Open the door, and shut the fuck up,” Brooks says.

Silviano scoffs, but gets off his stool and swipes his keycard. The door unlocks and Brooks pushes past him. Following, we come to the door at the end of the hall and Colt knocks.

“Come in,” a muffled voice says.

Standing behind his desk, Mario Russo, the don of the Russo crime family, is impeccably dressed with not a hair out of place. For a guy in his sixties, he looks like he’s no older than forty.

“You wanted to see us?” Colter asks, standing in front of the desk. Brooks and I stand slightly behind him.

“Yes, we have some new intel that needs to be verified, and I want the three of you on it. Gino is too busy with another project, and I need his full attention on it.”

We wait for him to continue, knowing from past experience it doesn’t go over well when we interrupt him. I remember the first time we had a meeting with him, I almost peed my pants, now after everything we’ve done, all the people we’ve hurt, not much scares me.

“We’re happy to help,” Brooks says. He’s lying, but Mario wouldn’t know that. The only reason why we put up with Mario, is because he has information we need and he’s holding it over us like a juicy piece of steak.

“Some new people have moved into the area. I need you to find out who they are and who they’re working for. I’ve been keeping an eye on them for some time, but I can’t find any information or pictures that could lead us in their direction.”

“Who are they?” Colt asks.

“They go by the names Ghost and Pitch. Both mercenaries. They’re from a rival organization. I got word they’re here for something, but no one can find out what that is. Find out and report back to me.”

“Is there any other information you can give us?” Brooks asks.

“They’re big on the underground racing scene. Horses, not cars. That’s all I have. Now, make it happen,” he says, waving his hands in a shooing motion, dismissing us.

I clench my jaw and spin on my heel. I can’t wait for the day that we can put a bullet in his brain. But we have to wait. For Belle, I’d endure anything.