Page 87 of The Devil Can Be Kind

At just after three that afternoon, Jesse groaned at the sound of a gull squawking overhead and after a few moments of looking about himself disorientated, suddenly sprung to his feet.

He shouted something in Italian and run off frantically to the far side of the beach with a huge smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes and watched as he made his way onto a small dock that was jutting out into the water. From this distance, I could only see one or two smaller boats tied to its edge.

I turned back to the tasteless magazine I was reading, rather regretting not bringing along a book or something more interesting to read.

The quiet purr of an engine soon interrupted my train of thought and suddenly Jesse reappeared, flying across the water like a mad man. The black jet ski he was straddling kicked up water in his wake and sent ripples across the water’s surface, stretching out into a large V.

It didn’t take much encouragement before I started rummaging around in the storage box myself in search of another life jacket. I got onto the identical jet ski still tied to the dock and Jesse talked me through the various controls, knotting the ignition key around my arm.

I eased the throttle and was suddenly flying along the water too. I screeched at the top of my lungs. It was damn right exhilarating and, not that I would ever admit it, a little bit terrifying.

Jesse and I spent the next few hours speeding across the water, racing each other and playing chicken. He was evidently more skilled than me, and I had fallen rather ungracefully on several occasions, earning myself a mouth of sea water in the process.

“We should go over and explore those caves tomorrow,” he shouted across to me as we came to a relative still. He pointed to an alcove of rock out toward the furthest edge of the secluded beach. “I think there’s a beach inside one of them.”

“Sure. That sounds like fun.” I nodded in agreement.

As I was looking back across the water, I noticed movement on the dock.

“I think Marco wants you.” I shouted over to Jesse, whose back was still to shore.

He turned the jet ski in a circle, looking back across to the beach. He muttered something under his breath before gunning the throttle and zipping through the water. With a reluctant sigh I followed, navigating the waves behind him.

I could hear Marco’s angry voice was raised before I could even make out what he was saying.The piss-poor mood continues then.

“Why isn’t your phone on you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for the past hour!” He was shouting across the water to Jesse.

Despite the humidity, he was wearing his usual slacks and black long-sleeve shirt. Though his top button was undone, and his sleeves were rolled back enough to show the tattoos on his arms.

Unquestioningly, it was his best look.

“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened!” Marco shouted. “But itcouldhave, and you are nowhere to be seen.” Marco’s hands slapped his thighs before he grabbed his hips.

“Give him a break, Marco. He’s keeping me from drowning, and aren’t you supposed to be safe here? This isyourterritory, inyourprovince.” I argued.

Marco’s glare sliced to me for a second then away, treating me as if I were invisible to him. “You will stay alert and have yourphone on you atalltimes. On duty, off duty I don’t give a shit.” He continued. Clearly angry by more than just the phone.

Marco slammed the device against the dock so hard that for a second I thought it might shatter.

Jesse muttered a “Yes, Boss,” while I shouted a rather undignified, “Oh for Christ’s sake.”

Once again, it was as if I hadn’t spoken.

“You don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” I said antagonistically, getting thoroughly annoyed by the silent treatment. The muscle in his jaw ticked just as I’d hoped it would.

“Put the jet skis away. Our meeting is in an hour.” Marco ordered.

“No! What the hell Marco!” I protested, but Jesse was already reaching for the rope to secure himself along the dock.

Marco finally turned to acknowledge me for the first time in over twenty-four hours. A signature scowl marred his handsome face, and he looked nothing short of the sinister Don of Sicily he was. Not an ounce of boyish charm hidden amongst his carefully schooled features.

“I need my security teamworking,Ada. Now get out of the fucking water.”

I was sick of his attitude. All because I’d told himnothe other night. It wasn’t fair, and he wasn’t the only person that could throw a tantrum or act like an ass.

---