Page 2 of When Sinners Fall
“But Shaw’s no fun,” she says, pouting at me.
“I’m no fun, either.”
“You are for me.”
“Not today.”
Raising her chin, she looks around at the people milling about. “You should watch that leash he’s put you on. You could turn boring, Dante.” She drinks and narrows her stare at some dick in the crowd.
“He a problem?” Because I could really use another problem to handle.
She stares at him some more before turning back to me, her hand landing on my chest to calm me down. “Not today. Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Yes, but no.”
She sips her drink. “And there’s that leash again.”
The leash holder comes around the corner as I’m thinking about discussing rank and manners with her, followed by Mother. She frowns at Mariana, showing her contempt for a daughter who’s become far prettier than she ever was. It makes me take half a step in front, just to make sure this doesn’t turn into the bitch fight it usually does.
“Is he gone?” Mother asks.
“Yeah.”
She looks at me, then Mariana again, then Abel. “Go find Shaw and Knox, Dante. Meet us on the back veranda.”
I look at Abel, making sure he understands the deal where Mariana is concerned, then move away from them all to find the last two remaining Cortez brothers. Doesn’t take long. Shaw is out by the pool trying not to get involved in anything, and Knox is found making conversation with the priest that ran the service earlier. Why the hell he’s interested in God, I still don’t understand, but I guess he’s the theorist of us all. Maybe he’s after saving his soul one day. Won’t happen. We’re not going anywhere but Hell, where it's probably the same goddamned temperature as here.
I roll my neck, leading them back to whatever more biding our time is going on, and wipe the sweat from my brow. Mid-May in San Antonio and it’s already too warm to breathe. Don’t usually care. I like the heat – any heat - but this constant rage building in me is making everything too much. And I’m pissed that Mariana’s right. Abel is keeping me on a leash. It’s been the same my whole damn life, apart from when he was in Huntsville state prisonbefore this life started.Stay, sit, be at fucking heel until I’m let loose. He’s got his reasons, most of them useful, but killing one of us? That doesn’t deserve patience.
That deserves immediate action.
By the time we get back and they’re all discussing next moves, I’ve got nothing left but playing with the flame on my lighter. I listen to Abel talking about the haulage and scrap metal yards we own, and Mother talking about the strip clubs downtown, and Knox talking about some deal we’ve got happening with another politician who's bowed under our pressure. Shaw starts up then about the money he’s laundering and buying another club, and Mariana just sits looking pretty and taking it all in.
Not one word about Reed and London.
Not one word about vengeance.
“You ready for Boston, Dante?” Abel asks. I nod, keep flicking my flame around. “You’re taking Shaw with you.” Well, that’s fucking new. I look up at Shaw, almost chuckling despite my mood. He shifts on his feet, trying and failing to look like he’s on board. Shaw can’t stomach that shit. It’s why Elias always came with me. He enjoyed it. Got some perverse thrill from watching flesh burn.
Guess I do too.
I stand after more chatter, ready to leave. Mariana gets up seconds later, in tune with what I’m thinking. We’re both done. For different reasons maybe, but she’s sure as shit gonna slide in my car the moment I show her I’m going.
“Sit down, Dante,” Abel murmurs.
He stares, waits, shows me he means it. Not today.
“I’m done here, Abel. Back off.”
I just put my brother in the ground, and, dick or not, he didn’t deserve what happened. Those girls were just another round of pussy, that’s all. Just more bodies in a long line of stolen women we’ve traded as profit. That's what we do. Evil or not, it's what we've done for years. This time, we got sloppy.Hegot sloppy. MaybeIgot sloppy, too. Either way, all this shit they're talking means nothing to me right now. I’ll get on my flight tomorrow, and I’ll go do what I do, but there better be some goddamn movement on this by the time I get back.
Dropping my stare, I defer for the time being and grab my jacket to walk out. Mariana’s on my heels instantly, her arm slipping through mine as we weave the guests and make our way to the car.
“Where shall we go?” she asks.
“I’m going home.” I’m not. I’m going to get drunk. Blind fucking drunk so I can kill something and not remember it. It’s not just Elias. It’s the friction building between me and Abel again. War between us two doesn’t happen much. We’re usually tight like that, but whilst he might have won the last battle we had about something, he knows – just like I know – that one day he might not.
“Can I come, too?” she asks.
