Page 30 of Dance with the Devil

“It’s very simple. I want what my brother’s always wanted. What the two of us sacrificed for, worked for all these years.”

“Yeah? And what’s that.”

“Power,” he says simply. “Territory.Money. But he didn’t listen to me. All these years, I let him take the lead, pretending I was him so that no one knew there was JohnnyandJimmy. All I asked was that he listen to me. God knows I’m the brains of the operation, and he was the face of it even though we have the same face. But, alas, your sister-in-law just had to run him down.” He sighs, and I get the feeling that he could care less that Savannah killed his brother. “And nowI’m in charge.”

“That didn’t answer Genevieve’s question, though,” Cross says. “The Snowflakes deal drugs. They run guns. I’ve heard they’re in the skin game, too. You can get power, territory, and money with all that. You went to a lot of trouble to kidnap us. To throw us in a cage.”

“Yes, but that’s because you’ve already forgot what I said. Some rivals… I want to destroy them. What better way to do that by taking what they love and bringing them to their knees.” Hisgaze dips to Cross’s. “You know all about that, don’t you, Mr. da Silva?”

Cross takes a step forward. I grab the back of his t-shirt.

Winter doesn’t even react, keeping his gun at his side.

“I’m not like my twin,” he says after a moment. “Death is so final. I prefer it to be a last resort. Like you said, I went to a lot of trouble to get to you.” He ticks off fingers on his hand. “There was that Sinner. Dave… Sanders? Yes. I tink that was his name. I paid him close to a thousand dollars to keep an eye on you two, letting me know your routine, where I might be able to catch you. Oh, and these was that Dragonfly that my twin tortured. Oliver… sorry. I didn’t get his last name before Jimmy gutted him. But he’s the one who said, to get to Damien Libellula, we needed to go through either his sister of his wife. Only his wife had a tracker in her arm, and sweet Genevieve… she did not.”

“How do youknowthat?”

Hetsks. “Weren’t you listening? Oliver told me. Keep up, Ms. Libellula, please. I don’t often make personal appearances, and I don’t like to waste my time. I have plans for you two. So, if you would, be a good little girl and behave yourself until I’m ready for the next part of it, I’ll what I can to make your time here more… acceptable.”

I don’t like the way he said that.

Neither does Cross. “Plans? Like what?”

Winter ignores him. “Anyway, I just wanted to assure you that none of my men have my permission to touch you. In fact, this stage of my plan hinges on it. That’s why I had to make the trip down here myself so you could meet me in person and see how serious I am about that. If they try, I’ll have them killed. I hope you understand.”

Yeah. I’m not sure I do. “Hang on?—”

Winter lifts his gun, just making sure we see it. “And if you assault one of my guards again, I’ll have you killed. Is that clear?”

He smiles.

Goddamn it, I flinch.

Now, I just watched the man I love get brutalized. I watched him mutilate another man with his teeth. Neither one of them turned my stomach the way Johnny Winter’s smile after he just so pleasantly threatened to kill Cross.

I gulp, answering before he gets the chance. “Crystal.”

ELEVEN

DAVE

CROSS

Ikeep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ever since Winter came down to ‘introduce’ himself a few days ago, I expected retaliation for the way I went after Mickey. Winter wanted me to believe that he’s running the show, that until he changes his mind about keeping Genevieve and me in his compound, that we don’t have anything to worry about so long as I don’t go after another one of his men.

I already bit off part of someone’s cock. If someone did that to me, there’s no one who could hold my leash tight enough to keep me from getting revenge. And if I couldn’t? I’d hope that Rolls or Killian would avenge me.

Does anyone give enough of a shit about Mickey Kelly to come at me?

It doesn’t seem like that. Either his comrades thought he deserved it, or Winter really does have complete control over his hired help, because the only thing that changes following Mickey’s mutilation is that Noah and the bald guy, Baker, are the only two who bring us our meals.

We don’t see Winter again. Mickey might still be recovering for all I know, but after Winter walked down the hall, he hasn’t come back. We haven’t heard him on the speaker in our cell, either, though I have no doubt in my mind that—wherever he is—he’s got his eyes on the video feed from our cameras.

It’s been a week. After what happened, I didn’t sleep for at least the next eighteen hours, if not more. That was to be expected. Between having to relive the act, plus confessing as many details about my past as I felt comfortable burdening my butterfly with, I was fuckingtriggered. It wasn’t even the old familiar fear that Chad might wake me up that kept me from falling asleep; the man’s dead, but trauma does funny shit to a guy, even two decades later. Instead, I was terrified that one of the other hired goons might decide to take Genevieve for themselves.

For the first time since we’ve been stuck here, not even holding her close was enough to help me sleep. The opposite, actually. I needed to hold her while I was wide awake to make sure that no one could touch her without me knowing.

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