Page 64 of Dirty Behavior

Dante

Iwas fucking cold, to the point my teeth had started to chatter. I could hear it inside my head, the repeated clicking of bone against bone.

My arms burned from being trapped behind my back, my muscles seizing up from the blood being drawn away. I didn't have a fucking clue why I was here. I was no use to these assholes, it didn't matter what they wanted to hear; my lips were sealed.

Fuck!

I need to get out of here, I need to get back to Ivy .

I hated the idea of leaving her alone. There was too much shit going down around us for me to be fucking careless.

I wasn't careless.

I was protective.

Her safety and well being was all I could think about. I wasn't looking out for myself, I didn't pay any attention to what was going on around me. I had wandered the aisles completely unaware of the men waiting outside the door.

And now, I was trapped.

A tingling feeling was crawling slowly up my bicep, growing like a vine on a branch the longer I sat. Tiny thorns scratched their way across my skin, weaving in and out of the muscle with jagged sharpness.

Wiggling my fingers, I tried to keep them from falling asleep. It wasn't working, I couldn't feel my arms anymore from the elbow down.

Why do they have to do this?

Why now?

There was no way I was going to tell them shit, but they sure as fuck were trying like hell to wear me down.

I knew the ins and outs of what they were doing. I played the same mind tricks on the guys we needed to get information out of.

The room wasn't cold because of some heating issue, it was a subtle way to break you before they stormed in asking questions you didn't want to answer. We did it too, it helped to weaken the thick walls, a mind game created to muddy up their brain just enough to get them to crack and fuck up.

Okay, we were definitely much more cruel in our methods, but in the end it was all the same. Tied up, alone in a dark, cold room, left to stew about what was coming next.

It was simple, but effective.

Hanging my head, I pressed my face into the table, groaning under my breath.Let's go! Come on!

The doorknob jiggled, lock popping open.It's about fucking time.

Sitting up, I slouched into the chair, eyeing the door through slit lids. These assholes were lucky they had caught me off guard. But that didn't stop me from being pissed and frustrated that they were keeping me from my woman, from mypregnantwoman.

Two men entered, their chests puffed up, shoulders pulled back. I recognized one of them, but I didn't say a word, I didn't plan on talking.

That's not how I was raised. They could torture me, burn my eyelids off with a soldering iron, pour gasoline down my throat, anything they wanted to do.

And I'd still stay mute, handing them a big 'fuck you' smile as they tried to shatter me.

“Dante Pisani, remember me?” The detective smiled like he had just won a fucking award. I wanted to rise up on my feet and clap, giving him a standing ovation for his fucking civil duty.

“Congrats, you got me.” Smirking, I bit down on my bottom lip, winking.

“Don't be a smart ass, you know why you're here.”

“No, actually I don't, but I'm sure you're going to tell me.”

“We have reason to believe that you might be able to give us some information about your father's death.” Throwing down a thick green folder, Detective Jones pressed his palms into the table top. His fingertips bent in, knuckles popping up.

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