Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
REV
Holding Dante forever is my new mission in life.
This precious creature sprawled across my body, skin-on-skin, chose to find comfort in my arms last night. I don’t take that lightly. It makes me feel like I could have a positive impact on his life.
But that could just be my fucked-up brain coming up with an excuse to keep him.
I’ve learned that he squirms and whines in his sleep. Every time he starts up, I smooth my fingers through his hair until he settles.
Needless to say, I didn’t sleep a wink. How could I when I finally have him here with me? It’s a monumental leap in our relationship. A step in the right direction. It proves that he trusts me, and trust is something he clings to.
It also puts things into perspective. We can’t relax into this new territory until SIXX is dealt with. Dante won’t allow it. And I won’t allow him on another hunt until we’ve run through some basic training.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand. If I weren’t waiting on an update from Rorik or details from Alaric on the black notebook I’d ignore it.
“Is the dungeon dweller lonely?” I answer in a quiet voice.
“You’d be the last person on my list to call if I were,” Alaric replies. “Rorik’s here. We have updates.”
“Did you figure out the notebook?”
“What, the shockingly detailed information on high-ranking Los Segadores members, including their home addresses and bank account numbers? Yeah, I figured it out,” Alaric says in a bored tone.
My fingers tighten around Dante’s curls. “That’s very dangerous information to have kept on hand.”
“If I had to guess, Sotero was the catalyst in the fall of those key cartel leaders. Their arrest happened a few months after Los Segadores murdered his wife. It would explain why he moved around so much. He was probably afraid of retaliation from other members.”
If Alaric’s assumption is true, then Sotero had no business keeping his sons close to him as he fled the cartel. His boys should have been placed in a witness protection program or the foster care system.
Then again, isn’t Ezra a horrific example of just how broken the foster care system can be? He experienced atrocious abuse at the hands of his caretakers.
“So, are we meeting or what?” Alaric asks.
I glance down at the beautiful man sprawled on top of me, questioning how his father could be so careless with his safety, but also recognizing that my presence in Dante’s life puts him in danger, too.
Could I give him up to keep him safe?
“I’m a little busy at the moment. Can you share over the phone?”
“The whole crew is here.”
I sigh. “Alright. I’ll be in shortly.”
Dante’s breathing heavily, no sign that my call woke him. Is he normally a deep sleeper? I could slip out from beneath him and let him stay in my bed.
No. I told him he’d be involved with taking down SIXX. However, I am worried the information in our meeting will upset him.
I’ve already told Alaric that the notebook needs to remain confidential from Dante, especially with its ties to the cartel. I’m concerned his father was involved in something dangerous. Something he may or may not have chosen to be a part of.
Something he tried to escape and failed.
I stroke a hand down Dante’s bare spine. “Baby boy, you gotta wake up.”
He groans and clings tighter to me. My cock twitches, loving his affection a little too much, given the fact that I don’t have time to do anything about it right now.
Lifting his head, he rests his chin on my sternum. Sleepy brown eyes blink back at me as he whispers, “Are you kicking me out?”
I have one of those profound, life-changing moments as his true vulnerability shines through. Cradling his face in both hands, I brush my thumbs along his cheekbones. “Never. We have a meeting about SIXX to get to. You’re welcome to rinse off first.”
Dante shoots up and haphazardly pulls on his clothes. I hide my smile at the thought of him attending the meeting without having truly washed our cum off his body. It tickles the primal part of my brain.
I won’t rinse off either. We can be animals together.
Once we’re loaded up in my truck, he lets me rest a hand on his thigh without complaint. He’s unnaturally complacent, though I’d guess that’s only because his mind is focused on SIXX.
I’m curious how he felt about what we did together. Should I have put off the meeting to keep snuggling him? It might be the only opportunity I get.
After I park in the garage below Sinro, I toss Dante my badge. I enjoy giving him control when he feels like he has none.
As we stride through the glass doors on the thirteenth floor, I motion Dante past the reception desk toward an open meeting room where muffled voices spill out.
Dante hesitates in the doorway. I can understand why. The room is filled with our team leads, all chatting animatedly.
Rorik pushes up from his chair and strides over. When Dante steps into me, I place a hand on his lower back to settle him.
To most people, Rorik’s a scary motherfucker. He’s practically Mafia royalty, though he prefers to keep that part of his life buried in the past.
“Boss,” Rorik greets. “We take in another stray?”
Alaric peeks over at Dante, then drops his gaze back to his laptop. We really need to socialize him more. Possibly force him to touch some grass, too.
“Careful. He’s feisty,” Forest warns, swiveling in his chair.
A couple of the team leads chuckle, including the other Vincent brother, Isaac. Where Cain is snarly and Alaric is aloof, the middle brother is one hundred percent sunshine. Isaac’s a socialite, a foodie, and a world-class sniper when he’s not offering therapy sessions to our staff.
Dante bristles but doesn’t talk back for once. As I ease him into the meeting room, I can’t help leaning in to whisper, “One orgasm, and I’ve taken the edge off that anger, hmm?”
“Shut up,” he mumbles.
“Blink if the bossman’s holding you hostage, Dante.” Forest chuckles.
The air shifts from playful to slightly more professional as Cain Vincent strides in.
“Please tell me we employ him.” He nods at Dante.
I catch Dante’s throat bobbing as he tips his head up to meet the deep-brown eyes of my boss.
Rorik’s muscular, but Cain is tall and muscular.
Despite the fact that he’s pleasing on the eyes with his sharp features and dark locks, Cain’s energy crushes spirits into the ground. He’s the definition of dominant.
Well, until his little husband shows up.
Ezra’s head peeks around Cain’s hulking form. “Hi, Dante.”
“Um…hey,” Dante replies quietly.
Sensing my kitten is overwhelmed, I slip a knuckle under the back of his sweatshirt and brush it over his skin to soothe him. “Dante. This is Cain Vincent, owner of Sinro Enterprises. You’ve already met his husband, Ezra.”
Cain frowns down at his energetic husband. “You know him?”
“We rolled around in the ring the other day,” Ezra explains.
Cain cocks a brow at me, silently asking a question. I nod, confirming that this is indeed the man I wanted to protect when I pitched the idea of working remotely. If I’d brought anyone else into Sinro, Cain would make them leave.
His expression softens as he looks back at Dante. “Nice to meet you.”
Again, Dante swallows and nods. “Yeah. Same.”
I’m floored by the interaction on both ends. Before I can tease either one of them about it, Cain walks over to an empty chair and sits down. Ezra follows, greeting everyone as he goes.
“They’re…married…” Dante says under his breath.
“Ezra’s capable of taming the foulest of beasts.” I confirm. “Wanna sit?”
Flipping up his hood, Dante moves over to a chair beside Neff, our newest promotion. She’s street-smart, with a chill attitude, neck tattoos, and spiderweb plugs in her earlobes.
“What do we have?” Cain asks, silencing the lighthearted chatter.
Respect for the man who built this company goes unquestioned by our mercenaries.
Adhering to rules and authority has never been my thing, but Cain has a good heart and an impressive record of saving lives.
I’ve taken pleasure in learning his ticks and moods over the years.
I can read when he wants me to step up and take charge, which has been a lot more since Ezra came into his life, and when he wants to punch me in the face, in which case I taunt him into the ring where we beat on each other until he’s not mad at me anymore.
Alaric sneaks another look at Dante, and I question if I made the right choice bringing him here. The people seated around the table are seasoned professionals, while Dante’s still struggling with the murder of his father.
Then again, Ezra clawed his way out of his own trauma to carve himself a place in our ranks, and he’s made of pure sweetness. A little mischief, too.
Clearing his throat, Alaric speaks first. “I dug deep into the family trees of the Los Segadores raid. One guy in particular is of high interest.”
The screen on the wall switches to a photo of a brown-haired young man sipping on a mixed drink in a club, surrounded by a blur of people.
“Mauricio Hernández Reyes. Son of a plaza jefe taken down,” Rorik chimes in. “Mauricio holds a title to a house in Bogotá, but he’s been hanging around town making a name for himself. Apparently he’s the new ‘it’ bookie on the streets.”
Alaric continues flipping through social media pics of the guy partying it up at local clubs and concerts. He looks like a perfectly normal twenty-something-year-old living out his wild years.
“This is one of our masked assholes?” Cain questions, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The poor sleeves of his jacket strain under the pressure of his bulging muscles.
“Word is you don’t cross Mauricio. The guy claims he’s got demons at his beck and call,” Rorik says.
Dante’s hand curls into a fist on the table. The urge is there to grab his chair and wheel him right out of the meeting.
Alas, I’m civilized and not an overprotective heathen.
One more upsetting comment, though…
“He could be monopolizing on the appearance of SIXX,” Isaac comments.
“I thought so, too, but Alaric traced Mauricio to the club where the last homicide was reported,” Rorik states.
Another photo shows Mauricio leaning back on a sofa, crowded by women in expensive dresses.
“It might be a coincidence. Or he might have more than just blood in common with our fallen cartel members.” Rorik shrugs.
“So, we bring Mauricio in and let the bossmen have their way with him in the basement.” Forest looks over at me.
As much as the idea stirs the bloodthirsty monster in me, I’m not confident in my skill to make this guy sing.
“None of them have talked so far,” I say.
“Henry could have a go.” Isaac offers.
The table all mutters in disapproval, and I grin. “If Henry gets to play in my interrogation room, I get to drive his trash truck.”
There’s a louder rumble of disapproval around the table, including remarks about how I’d end up damaging the expensive vehicle.
“Hey, I’ve yet to put a dent on my truck,” I argue.
“Are bullet holes not dents?” Ezra asks, earning a little upward curl of Cain’s mouth.
I bet their sex life is off the charts. I bet Dante’s and my sex life will be, too.
Probably shouldn’t think about sex right now.
“Guys. I tapped into his phone,” Alaric butts in, displaying a map on the screen with a red blinking dot. It’s currently moving through the halls of the Bergamore Hotel in East Bank.
“He’s been a good boy, but it’s not the weekend yet,” Rorik says.
The brief look Alaric throws Rorik doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
Curiously enough, Rorik’s name seems to come up in conversation with the tiny Vincent brother a lot lately.
Not that it’s abnormal for Alaric to communicate with the mercenaries in this room, but he doesn’t complain about working with Rorik, and that’s saying something. Alaric complains about most things.
“So we monitor his comings and goings,” Cain says.
“What if he doesn’t wander?” Neff asks, picking at a hangnail. “These cartel babies often think too highly of themselves to leave their gilded towers.”
Neff’s got a chip on her shoulder. After nearly losing her wife to arson a few years ago, she’s highly motivated to fuck criminal organizations up.
I lock eyes with Cain across the table. We need insiders. Rorik’s our usual pick, but with his thuggish appearance, he’d draw too much attention in a luxury hotel.
“Isaac, you’ll post up at the Bergamore this weekend,” Cain instructs. “We’ll keep an open line of communication on Mauricio’s movements as we prepare teams for an attack.”
Heads bob in confirmation. As Cain rises, he spares one more look at Dante. “You need anything, you let me know.”
Cheeks flushing, Dante nods. I can’t hide my smile as the rest of the room filters out. “Smitten with Mr. Vincent, huh?”
Dante ignores my teasing. “Do you really think this guy controls SIXX?”
My humor fades with a heavy exhale. “No, Dante. I don’t believe anyone fully controls those masked psychopaths. However, I do believe it’s likely Mauricio is involved with them.”
His head droops. He looks tired, physically and emotionally. “So we just…wait?”
“We go back to bed, and tomorrow morning, you join me in CQC training.”