Page 12 of Dirty Deeds

My gaze slides down to Brent, watching as he rolls onto his side. His palm covers his eye as he spits out some blood, then groans and falls forward, onto his girlfriend’s lap. She whispers something to him, but he pushes her away.

“You can’t be here when they come,” he tells her. “Go back in the house.”

Right, because she’s his dirty little secret and heaven forbid anyone finds out he’s with her. What would the public think? How would the polls react? His whole campaign would go up in smoke.

“Danica, look at me,” Enzo orders. My eyes snap back to him and I swallow hard. “The cops are going to be here any minute. They’re going to have a lot of questions and if you’re not inclined to answer those questions, you need to get out of here.”

“The fuck she does,” Brent grunts. “Danica, stay where you are. When the cops come you tell them I was attacked. Thathefucking assaulted me.”

Right, because I’m the one who sweeps everything under the rug. I’m the one who does damage control. The weak little pawn who hangs on his every word because her brother was wrongfully convicted of a crime and he’s the only one who can help him.

Well, I’m done being that woman.

I’m done acting.

I lift my gaze to meet Enzo’s.

“I’m sorry,” I rasp as more tears fill my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Without giving myself a chance to change my mind, I turn on my heel and run straight for my car. My hand shakes as I race against the sounds of the sirens, pulling open the door and sliding behind the wheel. The engine purrs to life and I glance back at the house to where Enzo stands staring back at me.

I hit the gas, my tires screeching as I speed away from the scene of the crime. When I reach the end of the block, I lift my gaze to the rearview mirror just in time to see the flashing red and blue lights. My heart pounds violently inside my chest and for a split second I think about going back.

Then I remember, I made a choice.

I chose me.

CHAPTERFIVE

ENZO SCOTTO

“Let’s go, Scotto.”

I drag my eyes away from the silver cuffs wrapped around my wrists and lift my weary gaze to the officer standing outside my cell. This may be my first rodeo, but between my father, Nico, and the rest of the club, I’m pretty in tune with how these things go and usually they just let you rot until your arraignment.

“Do you need a translator or something? I said let’s go.”

Rolling my neck, I try to ease some of the tension rolling through me as I stand and make my way out of the cell. He leads me down a narrow hallway, pausing when we reach the room at the end. He opens the door and juts his chin, silently ordering me to enter. When I don’t follow his command, he grabs my bicep and pushes me forward.

That’s when I realize there is a woman waiting inside the room. She stares at me for a beat, quietly assessing me, but there is no hiding the exhaustion marring her face. The officer pushes me down into the chair that faces her, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing him.

Self-control has never been my strong suit.

“Thank you, Officer,” the exhausted brunette says before her eyes zero in on the cuffs cutting into my wrists. “Please uncuff him.”

I raise an eyebrow at the request. When they brought me in, they allowed me a single phone call, one of which I used to call my old man—you can imagine how well that went. In between all the hollering, he assured me he’d call his lawyer, David Schwartz. I don’t know who the fuck this woman is, but she is not the cocky shyster who manages to keep my dad and the Satan’s Knights out of prison.

“Ma’am, that’s against policy.”

She fixes the officer with a glare.

“I don’t care. Uncuff him. I need him to be able to write.”

“He can write just fine with the cuffs on,” the officer volleys. Then he turns and closes the door, leaving me in my shiny new bracelets and the brunette pissed as fuck.

Strike one for Scotto.

Keeping my eyes pinned to the woman, I flex my fingers, flinching slightly as the raw skin cracks wider.

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