Page 9 of Madness & Mercy
I reach into my jacket, slow enough not to scare him, fast enough to keep it interesting.
His eyes flick to the movement.
I toss a flash drive onto the table. It spins once, then stops dead.
“Intel on the hit,” I say.
He doesn’t look down. Not yet. His eyes stay pinned to mine.
“You think I trust a stranger with perfect timing?”
“No,” I reply. “But I think you’re smart enough to hear me out before you put a bullet in my head.”
He’s quiet.
Then he moves.
One gloved hand slams flat on the table. The other grabs the back of my chair and jerks it forward, dragging me closer untilI can feel his breath on my cheek—a combination of heat, expensive cologne, and murder barely restrained.
“You’re either incredibly stupid,” he growls, “or suicidal.”
“Or I’m the only one in this city with the balls to come to you directly.”
He stares into me, looking like he’s one breath away from snapping my neck, or maybe putting a bullet between my eyes. Hard to tell with men like him.
A beat.
Then he laughs, low and cruel.
There’s something likerespectin it. Or hunger.
“You really think I won’t kill you?”
I don’t look away.
“I think you won’t. Not yet. You want touse mebefore you bury me.”
Another beat. His stare sharpens.
“And what doyouwant, Mr. Cross?”
I smile, slow and reckless.
“To see what kind of man Nico Vitale really is.”
He doesn’t blink.
And I know, in that moment, the game just changed.
He wants to dissect me.
And I want to watch him fall apart while he tries.
He doesn’t blink.
He just stares.
Like I’ve opened a door I wasn’t supposed to know existed, and now he’s deciding whether to shut it or drag me through it by the throat.
