Page 12 of Wild Angel

“Coffee,” he says, and then glances across the room to where Vito’s standing finishing his cigarette. “We’re going to need it.”

Chapter Seven

Savage

“You know what we need to do, right?” Vito says. There’s asnickas he flicks open his Zippo, another as he closes it again. Cigarette smoke blossoms into the air.

I’m perched on the edge of the boxy white sofa. It’s harder than it looks, but that didn’t stop Nyx curling up into a ball and falling asleep in one corner. She looks so fucking tiny, it’s impossible to believe she’s the same woman who broke my nose the other day.

It’sstillfucking tender.

“I can’t believe no one saw anything.” I shake my head, take my last sip of coffee. It’s my third cup, but I feel like I could lay down beside Nyx and fall asleep in a second.

We’ve been calling up the cartel’s falcons the entire night. Our network of eyes and ears cover every inch of Orlando, but no one saw anything that sounds even remotely suspicious the last couple of days. Other than the shoot-out yesterday down at the food stall where Nyx had been used as bait, it’s been quiet on the streets.

Too quiet, I’m thinking.

As if everyone’s been laying low.

“What if this has nothing to do with the Bogota?”

Vito grimaces around his cigarette. “Who the fuck else would pay to have Bryan assassinated?”

“It’s not that,” I murmur, waving my hand. I glance over at Nyx. She hasn’t moved in an hour, but I still keep my voice low. “Anyone could have used this Donny guy to hire her…but what I want to know is how she knew where to find my father.”

Vito frowns at me, shifting on the arm of the sofa he’s sitting on. “You’re right. And…if they already knew where Bryan was…”

“Then why pay someone to kill him if they could just pull a drive-by and take care of it themselves? Like they tried?” I tap my finger against the side of the coffee cup.

“Wait,” Vito leans forward, smoke puffing out with his words. “Are you saying the Bogotadidn’thire her?”

I shrug. “Makes no sense, even as a distraction.”

Vito whistles quietly through his teeth. He seems less edgy now that Nyx is asleep. I wonder why the hell she riles him up so much?

I put down my cup and sit back, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare through the window opposite. At this angle it’s impossible to see the hundreds of partygoers banging it out below, but I can watch the strobe lights flickering through the haze of smoke fogging up the warehouse’s ceiling.

“Father will kill her,” I say quietly.

“He’ll want to, yes.” Vito shakes his head, stares through the glass too. “Guess you’ll have to convince him not to.”

My lips quirk up as I tilt my head to look at him. “Suddenly changed your mind about her?”

Vito frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Half an hour ago you were telling me we should drop this and send her back to the motel.”

Vito nods a little, his eyes losing focus. “Yeah, but now the game’s afoot, my dear Watson.”

“Christ,” I mutter, getting to my feet and cracking my neck, my knuckles, my shoulders. “You watch too much fucking television.”

“And you watch too little.” Vito stands, bending to crush out his cigarette on the table. “Seriously, man, just one episode of Game of Thrones and you’ll be fucking hooked.”

I give him a long-suffering stare that he completely ignores. He straightens, inhales deep, and glances at Nyx. “Need to use one of my fucknests for a few hours?”

It never ceases to amaze me that he can use a term like fucknest andstillget girls to suck his dick.

I nod at him, check my phone for the time. “Whichever is closest, then we can catch Sergio before breakfast.”

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