Page 13 of Precious Hazard

I look down at the dead guy. Stavros Katrakis. The stupid son of a bitch I followed after Nino’s guys managed to sneak a tracker on the little shit’s car for me. This pencil-dick owed me answers. Answers I now won’t be able to get. Fucking great. As if our existing problems with the Greek Syndicate weren’t enough. I just made them infinitely worse.

Truth is, I didn’t give a damn about who I was shooting when I pulled the trigger. I saw that asshole slap Tara, and rage unlike any I’ve ever known boiled in my veins.

“What if you missed? Had you considered that?” she continues to jabber. “Your crazy ass could have killed me, DeVille! And what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

It sure didn’t take her long to get back to spitting nails. Just moments ago, she was shaking like a leaf. I push the thought aside. Now is not the time to examine why seeing her scared and hurt made me lose my head. Killing the Katrakis pup wasn’t exactly smart, not that I regret it. But if I were thinking more clearly, I would have chosen a different way to make him pay.

“I don’t miss, Tara.” Reaching into my coat, I take out my phone and dial my driver. “Pull the car to the end of the street.”

“It’s dark! And Stavros’s head was like… inches from mine. And now look at it! There’s a rather large hole in his skull. Why in the hell did you shoot him?”

There’s no way I’m admitting I offed the bastard for raising his hand at her. “Are you always this hysterical?”

“I’m not—”

The rumble of an engine and the squeal of tires interrupt Tara’s diatribe. My car turns the corner and comes to a stop right next to the body, narrowly missing Stavros’s right hand. What douche needs to wear a seal ring simply to let others know about the authority he’s been given by his daddy?

“Mr. DeVille!” Riggo erupts from behind the wheel and rushes around the front of the stretched luxury sedan, almost stumbling over Katrakis’s lifeless form. “I’ve just— What— Oh shit! This guy is dead!”

“Your deductive reasoning never ceases to amaze me, Riggo,” I sigh, reminding myself that he’s just an excited, nineteen-year-old kid. “Put the stiff in the trunk. We’ll drop Ms. Popov at home, and then you’ll get rid of the body.”

“You’re not dropping me off anywhere,” Tara snaps. “My car is right here. Besides, I’m late for work.”

I feel the twitch in my left eye. The fucking thing starts whenever my temper is hanging on by the thinnest thread. I take a deep breath and try to keep my tone calm and even. “You’re not getting behind the wheel tonight.”

She might pretend to be unperturbed, but people can rarely hide shit from me. The foolish woman is barely keeping it together. She’ll likely get into a wreck heading to Naos, home, or wherever else she might decide to venture. Maybe I should justlet her drive herself to her own doom. It would solve this whole “marriage problem” quite effectively.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to order me around?”

“You’re in shock,” I snap. “Your hands haven’t stopped shaking. Consider me a Good Samaritan and get in the fucking car. Now, Tara!”

“I’m fine. I’ll call an Uber.” She turns around and, stepping over the body, grabs her purse from the back seat. There’s hardly so much as a wobble to her brisk stride as she then rushes toward the mouth of the alley.

“You’re covered in blood!” I yell.

“Screw you, DeVille!”

I watch her for a few seconds, admiring the agility with which she traverses the uneven pavement in her platform heels, then turn to Riggo. “You have ten seconds to stuff that body in the trunk,” I bark and take off in pursuit of my unwanted future wife.

She’s rather quick, but her legs are much shorter than mine. I reach her just before she gets to the corner. Taking a page out of her brother’s book, I grab her by the waist, then throw her over my shoulder. With her pert ass saluting the night sky, I turn to head back to the car while my arm wraps around her thrashing thighs.

“What the— Let me go!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“I will not keep my voice down! I’ll scream if you don’t let go of me this instant!”

“Should I remind you that we have a dead guy and you’re covered in his blood?”

“I had nothing to do with that! You killed him.”

“Exactly. And I’m going to kill you unless you shut up.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t dare.”

I stop and meet her gaze over my shoulder. “Want to test that theory?”

She scrunches her nose and huffs.