Page 75 of The Contract

A chain link fence cuts off my escape. I throw myself at it. I’m halfway up when hands grab me. I shout and kick, landing a blow to someone’s face. But it doesn’t stop the hands from grabbing me again. I’m yanked off the fence and thrown to the concrete.

The last thing I see is Dominic Capelli snarling in my face before he punches me and the world goes black.

TWENTY-FOUR

Dante

I’m sitting on the floor with my back to the wall when Noah arrives.

He answered on the first ring, like it wasn’t the middle of the night, like he didn’t even consider ignoring my call in spite of what I said to him. Like he’s actually been waiting for it.

I wasn’t able to speak when he answered. He didn’t ask if I was okay; he only asked where I was.Warehouse, I told him, and he said,Sit down. Don’t move.

So I’m sitting down, not moving, when he walks in. His mouth is set in a grim line as he scans the area for signs of trouble or another person. Then he crouches in front of me.

“One to ten,” he says.

One means I’m okay. Ten means I’m about to lose my shit.

I just shake my head. I don’t know.

He holds out his hand. “Gun.”

I reach behind my back and pull out my gun. I hand it to him. He checks the safety then sticks it in the back of his jeans.

“Knives,” he prompts.

I give him the knife that’s up my sleeve. His hand remains out and expectant. I extract the one stuck in my boot and yield it.

“Did you take anything?”

I shake my head. He knows that’s not likely—I’m not Rafael, who will put just about anything in his body—but he has to ask.

“Is anyone in danger that shouldn’t be?”

“Tristan …”

“Where is he?”

I close my eyes. “I don’t know. He left.”

“Fromhere? Was Tristanhere?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Dante.”

He doesn’t have to tell me how bad that is. I’m compromised. Tristan knows about … all this. But I can’t bring myself to care about that aspect of it. He’s fuckinggone.

“He used the safe word,” I tell Noah.

“How did he find … never mind, he obviously followed you. How did he react? What happened?”

“He’s … Evan’s brother.”

“What?How can that be?”

I do my best to explain what Tristan told me. I hear how flat my voice is, but I do manage to focus. To function.

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