Page 40 of Tainted Love

“Work business.”

“Sounds real fucking exciting.”

He side-eyes me. “Stay here.”

“Yes, sir.”

He walks away, leaving the door slightly ajar. I listen for his feet tapping against the stairs, but I barely hear him. For a guy so big, he sure doesn’t make a whole lot of noise. No wonder he managed to break into my apartment without me knowing it.

I fall back against the pillows, my eyes twitching about for a clock but there’s nothing in sight. I have another rehearsal today at noon and I’m already in hot water with Cynthia over yesterday’s poor performance. I couldn’t help it, though. I was far too busy thinking about Dante’s huge talent that I couldn’t tap into my own, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that without getting the sassy side-eye from her.

I reach for my phone before realizing it’s in my clutch downstairs. I sigh and catch sight of the television remote on the bedside table. There should be a clock on the national news networks. I flick it on and channel surf until I find one.

My lips curl. It’s only eight-thirty.

A familiar image on the television stops me cold. A photo of a man with a black tattoo on his abdomen. A cobra, just like Dante’s.

TERRORIST GROUP EXPOSED.

I turn up the volume to hear the reporter as she reads from her cue cards.

“Breaking news this morning as the FBI announces that an underground criminal organization known as Snake Eyes exists… and just might be operating on American soil. The news comes from a supposed leak of their members and clientele, a list that officials are calling absolutely startling. Senator Ronnie Lamb, the front-runner in this year’s presidential election who was brutally killed last week, was supposedly one of their targets.”

Fear prickles down my spine as I look at the door.

“Sources have confirmed today that members of Snake Eyes wear the same tattoo on their chests — a black cobra. A nationwide manhunt is currently underway to locate members of this group. However, authorities do urge the public to be cautious. Members should be considered armed and extremely dangerous—”

A shadow moves in the corner of my eye and my breath catches in my throat. Dante steps into the room, his face cold and dark. He stands between the bed and the door, his eyes locked on the television screen as the reporter rambles on.

“Dante, what is Snake Eyes?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at me slowly. “You need to leave.”

“What?”

“Get dressed,” he says. “Go home. Forget you ever met me.”

My heart drops. “Dante, what—”

“Do it now.”

I can’t read his eyes. I search them but there’s nothing there. No fear. No hatred. No affection. Just blank, black eyes.

Like a snake.

“I don’t understand…”

“Lucy, go.”

He turns and walks out, leaving me sitting alone in his bed. The television continues, listing off all the reasons for me to fear him and turn him in as a terrorist.

It doesn’t make any sense. Dante didn’t bat an eye as he spoke about his work with the Zappias, one of the worst mafia families in all of Chicago. But Snake Eyes? One mention of them and he’s kicking me out the door.

I slip back into my dress and walk silently down the stairs.

“Forgetting something, Ms. Vaughn?”

I turn to see Spencer walking toward me from the kitchen with my clutch in his hand. “Oh, right...”

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