Page 24

Fall Back - Lithe

“I know you’re still there.”

Andretti’s hoarse voice held a slight shudder. I’d let him stew in anguish for the past ten minutes, testing my patience far more than his because the urge to inflict suffering and watch his ragged lungs haul their final breath had me nearly crawling out of my skin.

After what he tried with Amara, that fact he wasn’t tied to an anchor at the bottom of the Atlantic made me deserving of a fucking medal.

“Where else would I be than here with you?’

“Santino… Nipote , you know it’s all business. Nothing personal.”

“I’m not your nephew. And you made it very personal,” I said, circling his chair as I lit my cigar. “You followed my dancer to her car.”

“She owed me.”

“Did she? Because I recall Blaise paying you nearly double to settle that debt. Am I right?”

Andretti doubled over, his breaths labored as blood rolled down the legs of the wooden chair, pooling at his feet. “Luca hyped her up…” he gritted out, spitting dark clots onto his lap. “Wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Didn’t think…” More bloodied saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth. “You’d miss a random whore.”

With a fist in his hair, I dragged his head back. “You mean, the one who nearly took out your heart?”

“That bitch.” He seethed on a ragged intake of air.

His eye socket suddenly seemed like a good placeholder for my cigar. The soft tissue sizzled at the contact, followed by his pitiful wails.

“You can keep that. I’ve got another.”

“Oh, you son of a…bitch.” Andretti struggled uselessly to free himself, rattling the chair against the tile. “After all these years, this is how you repay me? Per una prostituta ?”

I cocked a grin and slipped brass knuckles over my gloved hand. “Wrong answer.”

The cigar popped out of his eye socket on the second right hook to the face, but I didn’t stop until he was near unconsciousness and his jaw was a bloody, mangled mess. The noises rising from him were unintelligible, so I stuffed a bottle of my favorite bourbon into his ruined mouth and let the liquid slide down his throat. He gurgled and coughed violently when I yanked it free and emptied the rest over his head.

“Wrong girl.”

“No…no…” Gregorio knew what would follow.

Reaching into my suit pocket, I pulled out another cigar. “I’ve no doubt that my cousin Luca put you up to this, so I’m going to ensure he understands his mistake and what awaits him, too.” I savored the Fuente before tossing it into the puddle at his feet. His doused pant leg caught fire first, the flames licking upward and engulfing his body until he looked like a human torch. His cries were quickly stifled by a scorched throat as the smell of burning flesh permeated the air.

“ Ci vediamo all'inferno .”

The elevator doors broke open on her floor, and I followed the ascending numbers, searching for the one listed in her file. I’d stared at my phone countless times, debating whether to call or text and seek her approval before stopping by. But I decided to do neither, afraid she’d say no. Blaise had assured me she seemed fine, but no amount of convincing would do unless I confirmed the truth with my own eyes.

“Can I help you?”

I turned to find a man approaching me with a sleeping toddler on his shoulder. His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he assessed me from head to toe. Sure, it was late, but I could have been visiting a friend or relative, for all he knew.

“Visiting a friend,” I said, deciding to play nice.

“Is that right? And your friend lives here ?”

Andretti had exhausted every last ounce of patience and humanity I had left. This man’s intrusive questions would not end well for him.

“I’m sorry. Are you security?”

“You could say that. But considering you’re at my door, I think I have every right to question who the fuck you are.”

My eyes flitted to the black numbers on the metal door, certain I had the correct address, then back to the man and child. Blood rushed past my ears when a fleeting and devastating thought crossed my mind. Could this man be someone important in her life? The boy her son? There were similarities in the child’s features and complexion, down to the curls framing his face.

“Are you…okay?” the man asked, taking a cautious step backward, eyes fixed on the front of my shirt, where the spatters of Andretti’s blood painted the fabric. Our eyes connected, and we saw each other as a threat in that millisecond. He reached behind him as I did the same.

“Santino?”

Amara’s voice caused us both to hesitate. He broke first, lifting his gaze beyond me, and I followed in time to see her step into the hallway.

“Amara, you know this man?” I didn’t like the way he addressed her by name or the protective tone he used. “ Sua camisa está ensanguentada .” The blood on my shirt had riled him up.

I gritted my teeth. Who the fuck did he think he was?

“It’s okay. He’s a friend,” she responded, catching my elbow and tugging me toward the door from where she’d emerged.

The bastard’s eyes thinned again as he gave me another once-over. Only when the child in his arms began to stir did he seem to relax.

“I’ll be right here if you need me,” he said reassuringly as he walked toward his unit. Neither of us broke eye contact until both respective doors had closed.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were stopping by? I would have…”

“Told me not to?” I lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, for starters, I would have given you the correct address…” She looked down at her striped socks and laughed. “And probably changed into something more appropriate.”

I’d seen her in nothing but pasties and a thong, but something about her outfit, socks pulled up to her knees and an oversized sweater falling mid-thigh, made me want to wrap her in my arms.

She’s yours now.

I tugged Amara by the front of her sweater, and she rose onto her toes. “You’re perfect.”

A flash of discomfort moved through her features, and she stiffened. But before she could close off or say otherwise, I leaned in for a kiss, thoroughly relieved when I felt her mold into me. Amara tasted sweet, like maple syrup. I wanted more and swept my tongue along hers until she did the same. Soft moans spilled into my mouth when I deepened the kiss, swallowing every sweet little noise.

“I knew I should have made you pancakes that day,” I teased, licking the seam of her mouth.

She chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting company. I couldn’t sleep and—Would you like some?”

“Yes.” With one hand at the nape of her neck, I pulled her in and devoured the sweet taste still lingering on her lips .

My new favorite flavor.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her eyes still closed and a smile stretching across her pretty face.

“ Preziosa , who’s your neighbor?” I asked, suddenly feeling protective and territorial when I remembered how he’d attempted to warn her in Portuguese as if I was a threat. But I supposed he’d been right in his assumption. I was seconds from disposing of him, even while his boy lay in his arms.

“He’s simply that—a neighbor, but he’s also a homicide detective, Santino. So I’ll have to do some damage control.” She glanced at my stained shirt.

“I’m sorry. I should have gone home and changed, but I needed to see you.”

I gently touched her wounded shoulder, feeling the bandage beneath her sleeve. “You don’t owe him an explanation.”

“I don’t, but he’s kind of insistent.”

My head jerked back as I searched her eyes. “What the fuck does that mean?” I hadn’t realized I’d backed up toward the door or when my hand had flown to my holster.

Amara grabbed my collar and shook her head. “No, Santi…not like that. He wouldn’t be breathing if that were the case.”

I believed her, but it didn’t make the urge to kill him lessen in the least.

“Elaborate.”

“I came home one night and found his little boy wandering the floor. He’d escaped while the detective was asleep, exhausted from a tough shift, or so he said.” She sighed and shrugged, pulling me toward her living room, where a cat with an exotic fur pattern resembling that of a tiger or leopard was perched on a windowsill. His large green eyes watched me intently as I sat across from it on a sofa.

“So now you’re friends with a homicide detective.” I scoffed humorlessly at the irony.

“No, but he comes around. Thinks he owes some kind of loyalty for saving his kid. And…”

She hesitated, her eyes lifting toward the cat.

“And what?” I asked, itching for my weapon again.

“He reminds me of…home in a way.”

“Home?”

Amara offered me a nod. “My home from a long time ago, in Rio.

“Brazil.”

I’d suspected her origins by her last name, but for her to confirm and share a piece of herself that not only brought some sense of nostalgia and comfort, but one also very clearly accompanied by pain.

As if responding to Amara’s mood shift, the cat hopped to the floor and trotted toward her feet, rubbing its fur against her socks before leaping onto her lap.

“He’s from your hometown?”

“Not exactly,” she replied, reaching for the animal. “But close enough. And the language. There was a time I was terrified to forget. But now, sometimes I think things would be easier not knowing.”

I brushed my fingers against her cheek, and her eyelids fluttered. There wasn’t anything I desired more than to get inside her head and learn all the ways this world had broken her. While I’d never be a man worth redemption, I’d fill the jagged edges of her heart with mine.

“One day, when you’re ready, I want you to know you can trust me.”

She seemed to study me briefly, as if turning my words over in her mind, but said nothing more, bringing her attention back to the little leopard in her lap.

“That’s an interesting looking cat.”

“She’s a Bengal. Poor thing was near death when I found her. I’d never been much of a cat person, but since her piece of shit owner had the misfortune of swallowing my blade, well, I couldn’t just leave her behind.”

Amara peered at me, amusement in her eyes, as if gauging my reaction. “What’s her name?”

“Phoenix.” She pressed her forehead to the side of the cat’s face as it purred. “I thought it was fitting.”

Rising from the ashes.

There was a deeper meaning there, not just for the cat, but for her.

“One day, preziosa ,” I said, tilting her chin so I could lose myself in her eyes, hoping she saw sincerity reflected in mine.