Page 42 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

“Yes,” I replied, “You are more merciful.”

“I’m dangerous, Dahlia. I’m a killer.”

“I know.”

My heart beat faster as he moved closer to me. He reached out and pushed some of my hair out of my face.

“I’ve been called a sociopath more times than I can count. Why would you want to be anywhere near a guy like me?”

“Because,” I replied, whispering softly into the night, “You saved my life. You’re the only person who has ever kept me safe.”

“For my own selfish purposes,” he replied.

“I don’t believe that.”

He grunted, “You shouldn’t hold gangsters in such high opinion.”

“Trust me,” I whispered, “I don’t.”

He leaned in and kissed me, closing his eyes as he leaned in. I could smell the hot metallic scent of a recently fired weapon on his hands as he touched my face. I wrapped my arms around him and allowed him to kiss me.

He pulled away.

“I’ve been longing to do this.”

I stepped back.

“Giacomo, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“We’ll only make this more confusing than it already is.”

“No,” he replied, “It’s simple, really. I help you, you help me. When it’s all said and done, we go our separate ways.”

“Nobody gets hurt?”

“Nobody gets hurt,” he replied.

I heard the doors open upstairs and we stopped. Boots against the hardwood and then dragging across the floor.

“They’re here,” he said, “I have to go.”

I grabbed his wrist.

“Have to?”

“I’ll be back,” he replied, “I promise.”

He kissed my forehead and then left. I heard muttering in Italian and then the sound of a car tearing down the road after Skye’s front door slammed shut. Giacomo returned, as he promised.

“It’s done,” he replied, “Iago is gone. It’s just us.”

“And Skye upstairs?”

He nodded.

“We’re safe down here.”

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