Page 78 of Cruel Devil

But before I can tear into him, Andy clears her throat. She toys with her drawstring of her pale gray hoodie when everyone turns to look at her.

“Before you rip each other’s heads off, I sent Bryan’s blood off for testing this morning.”

Savage takes a visible breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he glares at me. Maybe I shouldn’t keep pushing him. He looks ready to launch himself over the table at the next person to test his patience.

I guess he decides to take the high road because he slowly turns to look over at Andy.

“How long?”

“Thank you is a more appropriate response,” Vito mutters.

“Thank you,” Savage says, his eyes flickering to Vito before fixing on Andy again. “How long?”

“Usually a week or so, but Vito found a lab who’d rush the results for us.”

“How. Long?”

“Four days, tops.”

Savage wipes his mouth with a linen napkin as he stands. Bella’s on her feet in an instant, watching him carefully in case he tosses more food her way. He turns to me, but his gaze falls to my mouth instead of making eye contact.

“I’ll see you upstairs. No detours.”

He strides away, and thankfully the air of malevolence he’d been percolating in leaves with him.

Bella doesn’t. She pads a few steps toward the French doors, but then looks back at me with big eyes.

“Go with Savage.”

She whines, seeming utterly torn between following her master and staying behind. Who knows if there might be more food scraps coming her way?

“Bella!” Savage calls from inside.

Damn it, it’s those soppy brown eyes of hers that keep getting the better of me. I never knew I’d feel sorry for something capable of tearing my limbs off.

I snatch up my chicken leg and bite off a chunk.

Smack!

She’s still wolfing it down as she lopes after Savage, her black ears flopping against her big head.

“You’re really starting to fit in, aren’t you?” Vito asks.

I glare over at him. Andy glances between us, dividing her attention between us two and her nearly empty plate of food.

“Because Savage’s dog likes me?” I pick up my glass of water and scowl at him over the rim as I take a sip.

He gives a dismissive wave. “Bella likes everyone. Especially the ones she gets to eat.”

I almost choke on my water. “And you’re lecturing me about feeding her fucking chicken bones?”

He shrugs away my annoyance, then leans back so a middle-aged woman in a gray and white uniform can take away his plate. She comes around the table to take Savage’s too, and I hand her mine.

“Can you manage all three?” I ask, worried about her scrawny-looking arms carrying all three the heavy plates. They’re not exactly the kind you get at a Dollar Tree.

“Claro, señora,” she replies.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

---