Page 40 of Devious Corruption

“I’m not the mood for games, just tell me.” I fist my hands at my sides.

“Fine.” He nods. “When I told you to stay out of it, that I would handle your brothers, did you think I was joking? That it was anything other than an order?”

“An order?” I want to shout. And scream. And throw things. I definitely want to throw things at him.

“Yes. When I said to stay out of it, what did you think that meant?”

“Nothing, because you don’t own me, Lev!” I stomp my foot. A childish response, but it’s better than throwing a chair at him. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

He licks his lips, like he’s been waiting for his entree to arrive, and I’ve just served myself up on a juicy platter.

“Yes. I do.” He takes one step in my direction, but it’s no little move. It’s full of command and authority and every bit ofdon’t push mescreams from it.

“And before you go on another rant. I knew you were arrested because I have men watching their apartment. Theywatched you get arrested. Then they called me to tell me that you didn’t do what you were told, and you were there. And yes, I paid off the police to release you and wipe any evidence that they’d ever had you in their custody to begin with.”

He yanks the gun I’d taken from the boys’ apartment out and slams it down on the kitchen counter.

“And this is the fucking gun you weren’t supposed to do anything about or with or even fucking have. And yet, here it is. Back in your apartment!”

He has an amazing skill of yelling without actually raising his voice. His anger vibrates through the air, sinking right into my bones. It rattles the marrow.

“I needed to get their attention somehow, so I left them a note…” A small twitch on the left side of his eye makes my voice trail off.

“What did I say last night?”

“You said a lot of things last night.”

“The last thing I said.”

My throat has dried. It’s him, and his attitude, and this whole overbearing ego thing. It’s making me lose my train of thought.

“You said you’d be displeased. Which I think we should talk about,” I feel behind me, making sure I’m not about to bump into anything as I make my way around the room.

Every step I take, he counters with his own. It’s a small space with nowhere to hide. But I continue moving, and he keeps coming with me.

“Really?” His voice lowers to a dangerous level. I’m fairly sure it’s the devil who taught him that pitch.

“Yes. Really. You don’t get to be pleased or displeased with me.”

“I don’t?” The edge of his lips curve.

I’m not sure what I’ve said to make him think this situation is funny, but the beginning of a grin is there, nonetheless.

“No. You don’t. Because I’m not your problem. I’m no one’s problem. My brothers are my problem. I have to help them. And you can’t tell me not to. No one can.” The edge of the TV hits my hip so I turn, stepping back from him again, this time hitting the wall.

“And the money—I’ll pay you back. I’m not sure how long it will take me, but I’ll pay it back.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Oh.” I slide against the wall, knocking into a picture. It crashes down to the floor, the thin frame cracking.

I keep moving. I’ll fix it later.

“Well, then, I can’t…I mean, I don’t know what else you want.”

“I want you to listen. I want you to obey when I tell you to stay away from something. I want you to do what you’re told.” His eyes burn darker with each statement.

“Those are all the same thing,” I point out before I can help myself.