Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
GIO
“Ineed you to pay someone a visit.” Matteo taps his large finger on his cigar, letting the ash fall onto the tray.
“What’s this one about?”
“He owes us half a mil. He was supposed to give us ten percent to show good faith. Instead, he thought it was smart not to pay the ten percent and ask Enzo for another hundred thousand.”
“Jesus. What the fuck is he doing?” I ask. That’s ballsy for someone who can’t come up with ten percent.
“No clue, but whatever it is, it ends with us.”
“I’m on it,” I tell him as I stand up to leave his office.
“Try to make it clean, Gio,” Matteo calls after me.
“That’s always the goal, boss.” I flick my hand up in the air without looking back.
Getting out of there means I have more time to dig into Bronwyn’s dad without interruptions.
I hear Matteo snort in the distance before following that with, “You’ve never tried to keep it clean a day in your life.”
I smile to myself as I leave his house, knowing it’s too damn true.
This time after I’m done, I head home instead of going to the pizzeria, not wanting to risk being seen again. I don’t need another reason for Matteo to be on my ass.
My house feels empty as I walk through it, heading to my room. It’s funny because I’ve never felt like that before. Not even when I bought it. It’s disgustingly big for one person, but it made the most sense to live in the same neighborhood as my family in case shit hits the fan.
My laptop catches my eye as I unbutton my shirt and shrug it off, tossing it in the direction of the hamper.
It falls short and lands on the floor in front of it.
I remove my gun from my pants and set it on my nightstand before grabbing my laptop off and sit down on my bed.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and before I know it, I’m logging in to check the camera footage at the pizzeria.
I need to get another taste of her before I lose my mind. One time wasn’t enough. I want the real thing, but for now her panties I swiped will have to do. Leaning over, I open my nightstand drawer and grab them out. I bring them to my nose and inhale deeply.
I groan. They still smell like her.
“Let’s see if you’re home from work yet…
” I toggle the screens, clicking on the camera history that’s watching over the back alley.
It’s only noon, and from what I’ve seen of her schedule, she should be at work still.
I could sneak over and get a fix from one of her toys, but that runs the risk of her walking in on me.
She probably already thinks I’m a psychopath.
I don’t need her thinking I’m a pervert too.
I’ve talked myself out of some weird shit, but I don’t know how I would talk my way out of that without me getting a real taste that ends with me fucking her.
But on the other hand, I do love a challenge.
I scroll back in the history and watch her leave her apartment. She looks more tired than usual. I wonder if the stuff with her dad is getting to her.
I wait until I watch her walk out of view of the camera before skipping ahead to make sure she hasn’t come back. Just as I’m about to exit and head over there, a man walks into the frame, heading straight for the staircase.
What the fuck?
I lean into the screen as I zoom in on him.
That’s not her fucking dad. My eyes dart up to the time on the frame.
11:33 a.m. I watch as he scopes out the stairs before walking up them and trying her door, finding it locked.
The man steps back as he looks around. He looks right at the camera but doesn’t pause.
He must not have registered it. About another thirty seconds pass before he heads back down the stairs and ducks under them, hiding out of plain sight so if Bronwyn came home, she most likely would have no idea he’s there.
I fast-forward the feed until it’s live and zoom in again, this time on the area I saw him hiding in.
He’s still there.
Motherfucker.
Picking my shirt up off the floor, I shrug it back on and button it up before moving over to the safe in my walk-in closet.
This calls for the big boy. I punch in the code, listen for the beep, and open the door.
I pull out my FN Five-SeveN and the suppressor.
My favorite thing about this baby is that it’s as quiet as a mouse.
It keeps the audience Matteo hates so much away.
After attaching the suppressor, I snag a coat and head out to my Maybach.
Whoever this is, they’re going to learn today.
I hit the gas, reversing out of my driveway at record speed. The tires screech as I hit the brakes, throwing the car into drive. The rage flowing through my veins as I race across the city toward the pizzeria outweighs the adrenaline from the possible kill.
I parallel park on the opposite end of the alley from the stairs, blocking an end.
As calm as ever, I open my door and step out, quietly shutting it behind me before I adjust my jacket and collar, making sure nothing is out of place before I kill this piece of shit.
I walk down the alley, staying along the edge and not making a sound.
The butt of my gun feels cool to the touch, begging to be warmed up.
The man is on his phone as I approach. He doesn’t look up as I lean a shoulder against the brick wall and cross my arms and an ankle, as I wait for him to notice me.
I haven’t seen him around before, but then again, anyone can buy a suit and make it look like they’re somebody.
I raise my arm, letting my sleeve ride up my arm slightly, allowing me to check the time on my Rolex. I’ve been standing here for five minutes, and he still hasn’t noticed.
What the fuck is going on?
One thing my family will never say about me is that I’m a patient man.
“You’re not very bright, are you?” I call out to him, my voice bouncing off the building walls of the alley.
The man jumps to his feet, startled.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demands as he tucks his phone into his pocket, not taking his eyes off me.
I push off the wall, uncrossing my arms and placing my hands in my pockets. The weight of my gun in its holster making itself known. “I don’t think you’re the one in the position to be asking questions.”
“I think I am considering you’re the one who is all up in my shit.” He takes a step toward me, his shoulders squaring up in defense.
“I’m all up in your shit because my family owns the building you’re hiding at like a fucking creep.”
If I wasn’t looking right at him, I would have missed the way his eyes widened ever so slightly before schooling his expression. “I’m not messing up your property or bothering anyone. I’m just waiting for my girl to get home. She forgot to give me a key.”
“Your girl?” I ask, keeping my face even when inside I want to blow his fucking face off. The thought of Bronwyn with another man is enough for me to lose it.
“Yeah,” he cockily answers, standing his ground.
“What’s her name?”
“What’s it to you?” he asks defensively.
There it is.
I finally hit a nerve.
“I want to make sure you’re not hanging around my building bothering my tenants for shits and giggles. It’s not good for business.”
His nostrils flare. “Her name is Bronwyn.”
So he knows her name.
“And you think it’s acceptable to wait for your girl under the stairs like some sick fuck who’s waiting to jump out of the shadows and assault her?”
His face hardens as he takes another step toward me. “It’s a little game we play that’s none of your fucking business.” His hand reaches under his coat.
“Wrong answer,” I tell him as I pull out my gun, beating him to the punch and fire four rounds into his chest before he can blink. Fucker thinks he can be the one to kill me? Hilarious.
I watch in delight as he collapses to the ground, his lifeless body lying limp in the alley. Blood is pooling on the pavement and trailing straight for the stairs leading up to Bronwyn’s apartment.
A calmness washes over me; the rage I was feeling is gone. There’s always been something peaceful about getting a kill. One more piece of shit is off the streets, and that’s all I can ask for.
“Shit.” Matteo is going to have my ass for this one. Another kill not ordered. He usually only lets two a year slide. This will be my fourth.
I need to get this cleaned up before Bronwyn comes home. It would be just my luck to have her or someone from my family interrupt me.
I remove his gun he tried to reach for, emptying the chamber and tucking it in my back pocket before searching him for a wallet or any sort of identification that could tell me who this guy is.
A black leather wallet is in his back pocket.
Flipping it open, I pull out his ID. Brian Hatchett. That name doesn’t ring any bells.
Looking around, I try to think of where I can hide him until the pizzeria closes for the day. The large dumpster will have to do for now. I holster my gun before grabbing him by the ankles as I begin to drag him over.
I grunt. Jesus, this guy is heavier than he looks.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
I freeze as my eyes close, tipping my head up toward the sky and releasing a sigh. My hands tighten around his ankles, my fingers digging into his dead flesh.
You have got to be kidding me.
I’m going to be the next hit Matteo orders.
“First a hand and now a dead body?” Bronwyn asks. I can’t tell from her tone if she’s on the verge of losing it or not. It’s eerily calm for someone who walked into the scene of a crime.
I release his ankles, letting his legs drop to the pavement as I turn around to face Bronwyn.
I run through a million scenarios of what I could tell her had happened.
Something, anything to save face with the woman I can’t get out of my fucking head, but nothing seems good enough.
Not when she’s looking at me like she isn’t fazed.
I look her over. She’s not pale or freaked out. She’s not even looking at the body. In fact, she looks almost annoyed that she’s in my presence again. Her arms are crossed and her hip is cocked, much like it was the other night when she was little miss attitude. Makes me want to fuck it out of her.
“Just taking out the trash.” I smirk, but her brows lower in irritation.
“Since when is a dead body trash?” she asks.
“When it walks and talks like shit.” I shrug. And is sniffing around something that doesn’t belong to him, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Did you kill him?” Bronwyn cuts straight to the point.
That’s one of the many things I love about her. There’s no bullshit. You’re going to know exactly how she’s feeling either by her face or that mouth.
“Do you really want the answer to that?” I challenge, giving her an out. If she were smart, she would take it, but who am I kidding? She’s already in too deep. Who knows how the fuck Matteo is going to want to handle this one.
Bronwyn holds my gaze, the fire burning in her eyes. She looks exhausted. The dark circles around her eyes are more visible as she leans in to peer around me.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, her tired eyes widening.
Shit.
Maybe it was too soon to call that she would be cool with a dead body.
I step to the side to block her view, but she steps around me.
“Cara—”
“It’s him,” she cuts me off, sounding shocked. She quickly turns her attention back to me, the glare back in place. “Did you have him follow me?”
The accusation in her tone has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “If I wanted to follow you, cara, I would do it myself, not send someone in my place. What kind of man do you think I am?”
I’m almost offended she would think so little of me.
“The kind that thinks it’s funny to keep pestering me. I already told you everything I know about my dad. You can stop with your sick games.”
“Bronwyn, I didn’t have anyone follow you,” I tell her, my tone low and serious. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t believe you.” She sniffs, looking away as she crosses her arms.
She looks as if she’s about to fall over on her feet.
“How about you head on upstairs while I handle this, and we can talk about what happened?” The last thing I need is someone walking by the alley and seeing us.
“I don’t want to talk to you about anything,” she declares, leaving no room for argument.
That’s fine. I’ve always thought it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. I was just trying to be nice, but it’s clear that’s not the kind of man she needs.
“Suit yourself.” I shrug before moving back to Brian, turning my back to Bronwyn.
I can feel her watching me as I grab his ankles again and continue dragging him toward the dumpster. Once in range, I shrug my suit jacket off and lay it neatly on the bucket that’s turned upside down next to the dumpster, being careful not to get it dirty.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask as I turn and throw a wink her way.
“You wish,” she snaps. Bronwyn looks between me and Brian one more time before turning and heading toward the stairs.
I wait until I see that she’s inside safely before I bend down and heave Brian onto my shoulder. Blood leaking from his body seeps into my shirt, coating my skin. A rough grunt leaves my lips, and I toss him over the edge. His body crushes boxes on the way down.
I pick up my shell casings and jacket, leaving the blood for now. No one drives down this alley, and Enzo is working in the pizzeria today. I’ll make sure he takes the trash out. I move my car into its usual parking spot out front so it’s not blocking the end and head toward Bronwyn’s apartment.
I try my luck, hoping she left it unlocked for me, but she didn’t.
Sometimes I think she likes this game of cat and mouse.
It’s cute she thinks a little lock will keep me from her, especially when I have the master key to this one.
Pulling my key ring out of my pocket, I swipe through until I find the one I’m looking for.
Sliding it into the lock, a slow smile spreads across my lips as I hear the beautiful noise of the lock turning.
Oh sweet cara, don’t you know you can’t keep a monster like me out?