Page 8 of Double Standards
“Not up for discussion,” Colombo snaps. “Your car is here.”
He ends the call before I can ask what he means. But the blacked-out SUV that crawls to a halt outside answers that question immediately. Nobody gets out to greet me, but it’s the only car waiting, so it stands to reason this is the one Colombo was referring to.
I swallow the large rock lodged in my throat and push away from the wall, heading towards my fate. There are no familiar faces when I settle inside, just the stark silence and one faceless driver. As soon as I am belted in, the car pulls away and we travel through the endless streets of traffic until I’m back at the precinct where this whole nightmare began.
Unlike last night, the skies are a lot less morbid and a lot drier. There are still gray clouds overhead that refuse to relent, but there isn’t much more you can ask of New York weather in October.
Colombo is waiting for me on the steps of the precinct, pretty much wearing the same clothes as the day before. I don’t knowwhy that surprises me, but I resist the snarky comment as he opens the car door and pulls me to the curb by my arm.
“Shall we try this again?” he taunts with a wide smirk as he slams the car door behind me.
“We can try,” I retort. “It depends how compliant your boss is.”
Colombo throws an angry look over his shoulder at me. Like I’ve somehow offended him. I don’t read much more into it as I follow Colombo down the same corridor from last night. The same echo of our footsteps sounds until we reach the same door I walked through less than twelve hours ago. Colombo repeats his exact movements as before, pressing his hand into my back and shoving me into the room.
It’s like déjà vu. I lock eyes with Axel’s impatient gaze, his fingers thrumming against the metal table that he is so elegantly relaxing against. He’s undeniably drop-dead gorgeous, meaning anyone is bound to wind up dead after being in the vicinity of this guy. He’s wearing the same white shirt as the night before, loosened up at the collar with a few buttons undone, showing off an array of ink. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his tanned arms that are also covered in tattoos, while black strands of hair fall over his face. Tame stubble lines his jaw, framing his strong features while he focuses on me, surveying me under long dark eyelashes.
The sight makes my mouth water. For someone who’s spent two days here, he looks a damn sight more delicious than I care to admit.
“Mr. Bonanno.” I nod curtly, and Axel gestures to the seat in front of him with one quick swish of his wrist. I’m learning very quickly that in order to maintain a professional relationship with him, I need to just follow orders like a good little soldier—or a good girl. It’s not in my nature, but after the way I felt around him, when he was too close for comfort, I need to keep my distance and avoid a situation like that again. Playing his game is what will ensure last night doesn’t happen again.
Planting my belongings on the table in front of me, I pulI out the chair opposite. It screeches across the floor, the painful sound making me wince, but it doesn’t seem to affect Axel in the slightest.
I guess gunshots are more painful.
Suddenly he reaches forward, grabbing my hand to inspect my arm. His brows furrow when his gaze lands on the faint bruises. Though they’re really nothing, and not at all painful, I can’t ignore the look of irritation that hardens Axel’s features.
“Who did this?” he growls. His touch turns possessive as he runs his fingers over my skin, goosebumps rippling all over my body. While he radiates danger and profound confidence, there is so much hidden behind the mask.
I snatch my wrist away, clutching it to my chest. I consider telling him, just to see how he might react knowing one of his men did that to me, but I’m not into bloodshed so I just ignore the question entirely, opting to sit in silence instead.
As my eyes trail over his form, I note how exhausted he looks compared to last night and even more pissed off. It’s hard to decipher whether that’s his natural resting expression, or if he’s really pissed about the bruises. It shouldn’t matter. Not to me. Not to him. But I can’t deny there was a small part of me that enjoyed that sliver of protectiveness he exuded just minutes ago. Maybe there’s more to Axel Bonanno than I thought.
Chapter Four
Idon’t know why I feel so fucking protective over Cassidy Caruthers, but the sight of those bruises on her wrists has me itching for violence. Whoever did that to her needs to rethink their next steps because I’m right around the corner.
“Are you going to continue glaring at me or should we get started?” Cassidy queries, pulling out her pad and paper.
I raise an inquisitive brow. She still fucking astounds me with that quick wit and no nonsense attitude. She doesn’t seem to care what my reputation could mean for her. If she does, she conceals it well.I’m impressed.
“Mr. Bonanno,” she huffs when I don’t answer. “I have somewhere I need to be. So if you’re not going to cooperate, I suggest you find someone else to handle your?—”
“Handle my what?” I cut in, tilting his head in question. Whatever she was about to say is quickly snuffed out when she clears her throat and glowers those sinful green eyes at me.
“Your mess,” she replies without attempting to conceal her bitterness.
“Hmm…” I trace two fingers across his bottom lip in thought, surveying the blonde beauty sitting across from me.
Her breath seems to catch in her throat as she tracks the motion. It’s only slight, but enough to tell me that she’s got some dirty thoughts rolling around in that beautiful head of hers. For someone with a boyfriend, she’s sitting pretty close to the edge of infidelity.
“I need bail,” I mutter, attempting to push my own thoughts of having her on this table aside. It’d be so easy to demolish that boundary, step over the line that separates us as client and attorney. But the true test of strength is ignoring my urges for something bigger. I need to get out of here so I can find out who was behind this. Whoever is starting a war with The Five won’t see it through, I’ll make sure of that. I just need to get out of here to do that.
“Okay…” she nods. “But it’s not really that simple.”
Her words do nothing to appease me. I lean forward, steepling my hands above the table. “Make it simple, then.”
“You committed a murder, Mr. Bonanno,” she replies, mirroring my own blunt tone. “You won’t get bail unless the judge approves it at a preliminary hearing.”
