Page 70 of Steal My Heart

Something bumps my ankle, and I reach down and give Nola a scratch. “Your human is going to be angry with me.Again.”

Shemeowsin agreement.

“Let’s go face the music.”

I go to pick her up, but she darts out of my grasp.

“I thought we were in this together?” I call after her.

Remi’s not in the guest room, and I sigh heavily as I knock on my sister’s door. “Remi,” I call.

She appears, and I turn my cheek, giving it a little pat. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“That won’t be necessary.” She brushes past me.

Her refusal to slap me pisses me off, which I realize is an insane reaction. Catching up with her, I grab her by the wrist.

She looks down to my hand with offense; a hand she was caressing not five minutes ago. A hand that was knuckles deep inside her, not ten minutes ago. “We need to discuss a change in strategy.”

“What do you mean?” I drop my hold.

“Laurie saw Remi’s face, and if shit hits the fan tonight at the party, Laurie will narc on y’all.” Al appears.

“Stay out of this,” I grit through my teeth.

“She’s right,” Remi says. “The entire operation is in jeopardy.”

“No, it isn’t,” I say firmly. “Laurie will be too busy social climbing to pay attention to the band.”

Remitsks. “Not a nice thing to say about your?—”

“Say my girlfriend; I fucking dare you.” My hand flexes at my side; I have no problem following through with my previous threat.

Remi snaps her mouth shut.

“You’ll be wearing a mask on stage, so no one will see your face,” I continue. “Perhaps you could style your hair differently, if you’re still concerned.”

“What’s the mayor’s type?” Remi asks.

“Not you,” I answer through my teeth.

“What about a fun wig to match the Mardi Gras vibe?” Al says. “I’ve got a few in my collection. What will you be wearing?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” I follow them out, only for Remi to slam the guest room door in my face. “I wasn’t talking to you, Angelo,” she calls.

“I’ll remind you that I am the fucking boss of New Orleans,” I say like a petulant child.

“Good for you,” Remi calls sweetly. “And I’ll remind you that I am the fucking boss of this operation.”

Blind rage courses through me, and needing an outlet, that leaves the guard who let Laurie in the apartment in the first place.

I storm toward the front door, but Maks intercepts me. “Boss, before you kill him and leave me scrambling to find his replacement, is Al coming with you and Laurie tonight?”

“Yes.” Al appears in the doorway, holding a box of ridiculous wigs.

A snarl rattles my chest. “No.”

“I don’t have to be the runner, but it won’t hurt to have a second set of eyes to help keep Remi safe,” she argues. “I might see something that yours and Remi’s camera misses.”