Page 85 of The Devil We Know

Of course, Enzo’s appearance doesn’t mean anything good for me.

Last I heard, he was living his life perfectly fine outside of the spotlight, and with the demise of his brother, this means his life of leisure will have changed significantly.

So, I can imagine he’s rather bitter and would like nothing more than to string me up by my toes and beat me to death.

Footsteps come closer, and two shiny shoes appear in my line of sight.

I pretend I don’t see anything and continue to play possum, but then Enzo’s voice is right in my ear as he says, “Playing dead won’t work with me, you piece of shit.”

I ignore him, mostly because I know it will annoy him even more, and then he adds, “I suggest you perk up, or else we’ll be swapping places around here.”

Nicolai, one of the men who’s been in here with us for the duration and typically takes us in and out of our cages, speaks up, “What are you doing here, Enzo?”

Enzo steps back from me and replies, “It’s none of your fucking business.”

Nicolai snorts and responds, “It actually is my fucking business. So, watch your fucking mouth.”

My heart rate picks up at the idea that they may fight amongst themselves, but that hope is quickly extinguished when Ivan interrupts, “Come now, Nicolai. We all knew he’d show up eventually. Just let him have his fun, and he’ll go about his business.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then Nicolai says, “You better watch yourself. If any of them turn up dead too soon, there will be hell to pay.”

I’m not sure how I feel about this “too soon” bit, however I’ll take that over should have been dead already.

Darius is muttering from his cage, but I can’t make out anything he’s saying, and then Nicolai goes over and yells, “Would you shut the fuck up?”

“Sure,” Darius replies tersely. “Why don’t you open this fucking cage and make me?”

Nicolai must have taken a step toward the cage because Ivan rushes over and says, “Now, don’t you be listening to that guy.”

“Why the fuck not?” Nicolai huffs.

“Because it’s a fucking trap, that’s why,” Ivan replies firmly. “Just as soon as you nonchalantly open that cage, thinking you’re going to make some fucking statement, the Beast is going to rip your throat out.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, would you stop with that name,” Darius replies bitterly.

I hear a muffled laugh at my feet, and I know Tony is once again gloating about the nickname he gave Darius many years ago. Nicolai mutters from behind me, and then his voice gets louder as he moves closer. He stops beside me and says to Enzo, “Just do what you’re going to do and get the fuck out. We got business here.”

“Make this motherfucker look at me,” Enzo commands.

He steps back, and at the same time, a hand grabs me by the hair and yanks my head back violently. I open my eyes almost lazily, trying to keep my expression as bored as possible as I spit some blood on the floor. “What the fuck do you want?”

Enzo frowns at me, and Jessica’s eyes narrow a bit. I’m hoping she’ll remember all of our earlier conversations about me having to do and say bad shit in order to protect her. The last thing I want these guys to know right now is how much she means to me because that just gives them more leverage than they already have with me here, hanging by my wrists, not even wearing fucking shoes.

I glance around and see there are still a few people in the room, but not nearly as many as there were when Tony was getting his ass handed to him.

I know if we’re going to attempt to make an escape, the timing has to be exact. The room can’t be too full of people, but therealso needs to be enough people to make it confusing for the enemy.

Given I’m working mostly on assumptions as to how much backup I have in the building, it could go to shit pretty easily.

“Since I finally have your attention,” Enzo retorts as he walks over to Jessica and yanks her closer to him, pressing his body against hers. It’s everything I can do to keep my expression neutral and my body relaxed as he adds, “I already explained the future to Jessica here.”

I raise a brow at him as I ask, “And what might that be?”

“So glad you asked,” he says with a smile. “About our impending nuptials once she becomes a widow.”

He moves his hand from her upper arm to the back of her neck, and her expression becomes pained as he squeezes hard. He uses his free hand to stroke up her stomach, between her breasts, and then, with his hand pressed against the front of her throat, he leans in close, rubbing his nose on her cheek, following the same path with his tongue.

She grimaces and snaps her head forward, smashing her forehead against his nose, and he shrieks as his blood gushes. He jumps back, pushing her away as his hands come to his face, and he curses. She takes a step away, pulling a tissue or a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping the blood off her skin gingerly as she says, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you the order of operations?”

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