Page 28 of Dirty Behavior

Dante

My hands grazedthe wood lightly, but fierce. I was back, the sinner of all sins had returned to take back what was deserved and deny what was demanded.

Scanning around over my shoulder, I didn't see anything or anyone that seemed out of place. I kept my eyes open at all times, not once letting my guard down. Remo could try and have me followed, he probably had eyes and ears any place he could stick them.

Even while driving, I found myself watching the cars behind me to see if I was being tailed and eyeing the people on the streets to see if they looked at me as I drove by.

I didn't want any surprises, not a single fucking one.

The entire situation was fucked up. My family had always been in charge, we were the ones to look out for. There was a complete role reversal, but not for long.

I was anxious, miserable, ready to end this fucking thing once and for all. Ivy was right, I couldn't do it alone. I also knew I couldn't do this with her.

I didn't want to take this from her, but she was far too precious to me to even consider putting her in danger. And that's what this was.

This was going to come down to life or death. That wasn't a choice I wanted her to have to make. I knew she wanted Remo gone after everything he put her through, fuck, she deserved it.

But choosing to take someone's life, that wasn't easy.

My past gave me the ability to handle things others couldn't. I could turn it on and shut it off, but Ivy. . . I wasn't sure if she knew what she was getting into. Fuck, she outright told me she didn't wish death on Tony even after he attacked her.

What would happen if she was the one who had to take down Remo?

Would she. . . No, the question is could she?

Taking a life, it didn't matter how or why, just the act itself was enough to fuck with your head. She was already broken, learning to pick those pieces up again, and figuring out how to put her shredded life back together.

Remo, he was my job.

It was what I was good at, and not one part of what I was going to do to him would alter how I felt, what I thought, or who I was.

And why?

Because I was a Pisani.

That in itself was enough to brand me for life as a monster. With everything I'd already done, it was half expected from just my name, nobody would be surprised if I took one more.

The door swung open, cool air slashed my face as I turned back to the entrance. “Holy fucking shit, I never expected to see you here.” Vince held the door in his palm, stepping to the side to let me in. “Where the hell have you been man?”

“Away.” Taking one last look over my shoulder, I walked inside. “You busy, am I interrupting anything?” Flicking my eyes to the couch, a half-naked woman was briskly standing and pulling her shirt over her head.

I didn't know her, which was good, but that didn't mean she didn't recognize me.

Everyone knows who you are.

“No, no, she was just leaving.” Vince nodded his head at her, raising his brows up with a gentle jerk and sending her out the door.

The woman fluffed her hair, shooting him an angry glare. Snatching her purse off the end table, she stormed past us, giving him one last crooked eye.

Vince huffed under his breath, shaking his head. “Women, if looks could kill, right?” Chuckling, he shut the door and walked towards the kitchen of his small cabin-sized home. Pulling open the fridge, he asked, “Want one?” Holding out a beer, he took a second one for himself.

Seriously?

No I don't want a fucking drink at the crack of dawn.

Arching a brow, I said, “It's nine in the morning.” Following him into the kitchen, I slid into the chair at his counter. I felt on edge, my nerves were fucking shot.

But that didn't mean I wanted to cover up my pain with booze. It's no surprise people bury their memories differently. I chose to erase them, shoving them down into a vault I created deep inside.

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