Page 25 of Omega's Vengeance

“Oh, that’s right. You told me your father liked to put cigarettes out on the back of your neck.” His smile is mocking. “I’ll bet you’d kill for one of those cigarettes right about now.”

I grit my teeth. “I didn’t tell you that so you could mock me. You really think a father doing that to his kid is funny?”

“Only because the kid was you.” He snorts a laugh, and nimbly avoids me when I grab for the box of cereal.

“Give me some of that.”

“Nope. This is mine,” he says. “I’m the one who took the risk coming in here.”

“Alessio, I’m fuckingstarving,” I rumble, advancing on him. “If I can’t cook anything then you need to share that cereal.”

“Eat the peaches.”

“They’ll probably kill me.”

“Oh, well.” He laughs and circles around me. “One less thug in the world is no big loss.”

I growl and grab for the box of cereal again. Unfortunately, I miss.

“You’re such a Neanderthal. What are you going to do, Dario? Beat me up and take my cereal?”

“Maybe.” I hunch my shoulders, inching closer.

He sighs. “There’s a book of matches next to the can of peaches, asshole.”

I stop moving toward him. “There is?”

“Yes. I was just too lazy to heat up the soup.” He rolls his eyes and walks away. “Keep your hands off ofmycereal.”

I spin around and head back to the cabinet that had the canned goods. Sure enough there’s a crumpled book of matches in the corner of the shelf. There are only two matches left, but I can work with that. I move to the camping stove, praying there’s some propane left in the little green tank. I turn the knob on the front of the stove and strike one of the matches. There’s a soft hissing sound and the burner lights.

I have to stifle my groan of relief as I watch that little blue flame appear. I rifle through the drawers and find a wooden spoon. It appears to be the only utensil in the kitchen. Figures. Every kitchen in the world has extra wooden spoons. I stir the soup for a few minutes but then the flame sputters out.

“Shit,” I say under my breath. The tank must have been almost empty. It would be foolish to waste the last match hoping to relight the stove. Gritting my teeth, I continue stirring the soup, using what’s left of the heat from the pan. I’m not able to completely melt all the soup, but manage to get it to a thick stew-like state. Even though the soup is old, it still smells like heaven to me. I grab the pan and I start eating straight out of the pot as I stand over the stove.

In the other room I hear Alessio mutter, “Fucking Neanderthal.”

Chapter Six

Alessio

While Dario wolfs down his disgusting soup, I check out the fireplace. There was a huge stack of wood outside against the house. My fingers and toes are chilled to the bone. It’s great to be out of the cold night air, but a warm fire would make everything that much better.

“We should start a fire,” I suggest, straightening.

Dario pauses the spoon half way to his mouth. “Too risky.” He goes back to eating as if the subject has been decided. I hate it when he does that. He seems to think his word is final, no matter what’s being discussed.

“I think it would be fine.”

He stops eating again, and narrows his eyes. “Carlo and his goons could see the smoke. We don’t need to do anything that draws attention. We just need to stay alive long enough to get back down to the city.”

“There are other cabins around. Just because they smell smoke doesn’t mean they’ll know it’s us,” I grumble.

“It could catch their attention though, Alessio. Then what? We have no guns or weapons of any kind. Am I supposed to defend myself with a wooden spoon?” He shakes his head and finishes off his soup. He sets the pan in the sink and rinses it Then he leans his elbows on the edge of the sink as if he’s feeling weak. “It’s too risky.”

I exhale impatiently. “Well, I’m fucking freezing.”

“Check the bedroom for blankets.”

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