Page 33 of Chasing Danger

But, they’d been trying to pull me out through the back door, so that way probably wasn’t safe. The only other option was the front door.

Gripping the counter with shaking hands, I pulled myself up just enough to peer over the edge. As I’d guessed, it was a fight. Most of my attackers lay unmoving on the floor, their bodies sprawled like discarded rags. Only one man remained, and he stood just in front of the counter with a gun in hand, pointing the weapon directly at... D’Angelo?

My lover from last night was barely recognizable now. He still looked sleek and well put together, but there was a lethal edge to his demeanor, and a look in his blue eyes that reminded me of a wild beast trapped in a cage.

The man with the gun was shouting at D’Angelo.

“What the hell? You weren’t supposed to be here!”

I didn’t hear D’Angelo’s response. My gaze was locked on the man with the gun. This was the same one who had slapped me. The pain still burned in my cheek. My unscarred cheek. He’d struck that side on purpose, trying to ruin what remained of my original face and leave me nothing but scars.

Fury grabbed hold of me, calming my nerves in an unnatural icy bath of cold certainty. I wanted this man to suffer.

Before I realized what I was doing, I picked up the coffee pot and, with an inhuman yell, I smashed it over the man’s head. Glass shattered, and hot coffee poured out over his face and scalded his skin. The man didn’t have time to make a single noise before he collapsed.

Maybe he was unconscious. Maybe he was dead. I didn’t know, and at that moment I didn’t care. All I felt was relief that he couldn’t hurt me again.

“Oliver?” D’Angelo said carefully, holding his hands out as he approached me like he was trying to sooth a feral animal.

The calm I’d felt when I picked up the coffee pot disappeared quicker than a popped balloon. I started shaking again, even worse than before.

Looking down at my hand that still held the coffee pot handle, I realized my vision was going blurry.

“I think I’m going to sit down now.”

Then my vision went black as I fainted.

CHAPTER 15

D’Angelo

There wereseveral instances in my life that made me want to take up smoking. It was a disgusting habit of my father’s, and I had no actual interest in it, but the promise of calming my nerves was tempting.

Sitting by the side of my own bed, waiting for Oliver to wake up, was one of those moments.

A doctor on my payroll had already checked him out to be sure Oliver hadn’t been poisoned or injured. Apparently, he’d just passed out from the combination of extreme stress and lack of sleep. He worked late night shifts at the Erodance, then had to get up early for his coffee shop shift. It wasn’t ideal, but there shouldn’t be any negative effects.

So, now it was just a matter of waiting for him to wake up naturally.

As the minutes ticked by, slowly turning into hours, I sat watching the shadows move along the walls. A knife twirledthrough my fingers, flashing its deadly edge back and forth. It was a nervous habit I’d picked up almost as soon as I learned to wield a knife properly. Not only did it help me retain a sense of control in uncertain situations, but it also worked as a decent intimidation tactic.

In this case, I didn’t want to scare Oliver, and made a note to sheath the knife back in the hidden strap on my wrist as soon as he woke up. He was likely going to be overwhelmed and didn’t need to see me looming over him holding a weapon as soon as he opened his eyes.

As much as I wanted him to wake up, I also wanted him to sleep longer. The moment he returned to consciousness I would have to explain what happened to him.

What would I even say?

Oliver was a civilian. I knew that, for our relationship to continue, I’d eventually have to tell him about my position in the mafia and the dangers that came with it. However, I’d been planning on having a little more time before bringing it up.

Oliver stirred, twisting his fists in the sheets, and burying his face against the pillow.

I sat up straight and stored my knife back in its sheath.

Hazel eyes opened and stared at me with bleary focus. At first, he smiled, and warmth filled the hollow place in my chest. But then his gaze focused, and his memories seemed to return to him. He sat up abruptly, half tangled in the sheets, and scrambled away until his back hit the wall.

“D’Angelo. What the hell?”

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. “You’re going to need to be more specific.”

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