Chapter 10
DEAN
For a split second, I ask myself if I’m hallucinating. Like maybe I’ve been thinking about Sachi so much that I tricked my eyes into seeing her. But, no, she’s here in front of me, and she’s just as shocked to see me as I am her. Not a happy sort of surprise. She’s horrified.
That’s when it hits me.
I’m at Sante’s place.
She’s somehow connected to him.
Did that motherfucker send a woman to seduce me? If so, I served myself up on a platter for her. Hell, I’m the one who invited her to my place.
I’m suddenly assaulted with questions. What the fuck did she do there while I was asleep? Was the entire night a performance? Are my instincts that far gone?
A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions comes at me all at once, building into a furious cyclone in an instant.
She starts to slam the door shut, but I manage to get a foot inside.
“I don’t think so, kitten.” I use my shoulder to pry open the door. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Sachi stumbles backward, her eyes wide and pretty pink lips parted. I should have made use of them last night when I had the chance. Now, I know she’s more likely to bite my cock off than suck it. What a shame.
I nudge the door shut behind me, then cage her in against the entry wall. A part of me wants to shake her and demand answers, so I don’t even tempt myself by touching her. That’s not who I am. No matter how upset I get with a woman, I won’t hurt her.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, though the answer seems fairly obvious. “You work for Sante?”
“What? No! I’m friends with Amelie.” Her stuttered explanation has little impact on my fury.
“Ah, so you going home with me last night and ending up here the following morning has nothing to do with Sante. It’s all just a big coincidence.”
“Yes.”
“And you had no idea who I was,” I continue for her, condescendingly.
“I … I…”
“That’s what I thought,” I clip harshly. “Every bit of it was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“No, I swear it wasn’t a lie.” Her wide eyes look so fucking innocent, and it pisses me off even more.
“You seriously expect me to believe that? I already checked the guest list, and guess what? You weren’t on it.” I lean in to growl the final words. At the same time, another growl sounds from behind me—this one much more animalistic.
Fuck.
Amelie’s dog.
The German Shepherd is an expertly trained protection dog that will tear me to shreds if she decides I’m a threat.
I gingerly turn my body to face the snarling beast, doing my best to cover Sachi because no matter how pissed I am, I don’t want her getting hurt.
Not like that. And I can tell she’s terrified of the dog, her hands clutching the back of my jacket.
I doubt she’s ever seen the animal in attack mode—the change is impressive.
“Shh … everything’s okay. I’m not a danger to anyone.” I say the words in the most reassuring tone possible, but it means nothing to the dog’s trained responses.
“Fuck, where’s Amelie?”
“Bathroom,” Sachi whispers. She keeps her body close to mine, and I hate how I still take enjoyment out of knowing I help her feel safe.
“Sachi? Freya?” Amelie rounds the corner into the living room, just out of our sight in the entry.
“Amelie, it’s Malone. Please, call off your dog.”
“What? Oh!” She finally approaches to see us pressed against the wall and takes hold of Freya’s collar. She gives a single command in a foreign language that instantly calms the beast. “What on earth is going on?” she asks, turning her attention back to us.
Before I can answer, the front door opens as Sante, Tommy, and his wife join our little party. They go still as they take in the situation. Meanwhile, I see fucking red. I just know Sante is behind everything that happened last night, and I’m going to make him pay for it.
Catching him off guard, I shove him against the wall and hold him pinned with my hands fisted in his shirt.
“What the fuck, Malone?” He lifts his hands but doesn’t fight back.
The girls all shriek, huddling together, and the dog returns to growling. Behind me, I hear the distinct click of the safety being disengaged on a handgun. Tommy’s got a gun on me, but I’m too pissed to care.
“Who the fuck do you think you are sending someone to fuck with me?” I spit back at him.
Sante’s face contorts as he gives me a wicked upper cut to the gut. My involuntary recoil allows him leeway to step away from me.
“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, and you should fucking know better than to come into my house and start accusing me of shit.”
The next thing I know, he’s got a gun on me, too.
This situation is getting dangerously out of hand. If I don’t walk away, someone’s going to end up hurt … or worse.
My eyes cut once more to Sachi, who looks on the verge of tears. That pisses me off all over again for a slew of reasons I don’t want to analyze.
“I came by to tell you we got an address on Reaper. I know how important it is to you guys that we find that bastard. Here I am trying to be transparent, only to learn you’re sending fucking spies rather than ask for whatever the fuck it is you think you were going to find.
I know we don’t exactly trust one another, but I thought we’d established some degree of professional respect.
Turns out you wouldn’t know how to be honorable if your pathetic life depended on it. ”
I’m walking a thin line. Sante’s jaw is so tight he’s thirty seconds from cracking a tooth. That’s fine. I have nothing more to say to these people.
Fuck.
Them.