Page 15 of Depraved
“The guy from the party… It’s the asshole who was hitting on you? Did he threaten you?” I growl with deadly fucking intent.
If this asshole has Sarah carrying a gun, afraid for her safety…Motherfucker. My head tips back, anger straining my features. “I’ll bury him, Sarah. But first I’ll make sure he knows what fear really is.”
“Fuck,” she breathes. “Stop. Dante. This has nothing to do with that guy.”
A crease forms between my brows as she answers. “Then who?”
She blinks, but her mouth presses closed.
We’re back at the beginning. That’s fucking it. My patience has run out.
I grab the middle of her shirt, bunching it in my hands and making her body arch toward me, when ringing comes from the floor. My head swings around to look for the intrusion.
She pushes against me to circle the desk, but my hand cages around her arm as I point at it. “Vincenzo.”
Where’s the fire? Not so fast.
“No. I got it. Don’t, I’m good…” she spits, as she hurriedly tries to pull away from me, but I hold her bicep tight in my good hand, planting her in place.
“Let go,” she snaps, jerking her arm.
“Not a fucking chance. Settle down or I’ll chain you to the cabinets with the guy in the kitchen.” I warn, and she stills.
“Please give me my phone, Dante.”
Her eyes are pleading. But I don’t care.
This is the closest I’ve seen to fear from her. No fucking way am I giving her that phone. “Not until you tell me everything I want to know. Or maybe the person on the phone can?”
Vin picks it up from where it’s ringing and looks at me, and I nod. “Answer it.”
He hits the Answer button and puts it on speaker, then sets the phone on the desk. I look pointedly at Sarah for her to answer.
But she doesn’t, shaking her head, her angry glare locked to mine. Damn. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before because those eyes really do say it all.
There’s a bite as vicious as a viper in there behind the sexy smiles and flirtatious laughs. This girl has hellfire running through her veins, and whoever she doesn’t want me talking to is most certainly the person who put it there.
My hand tightens around her arm as I bend down, bringing my lips close to her ear. My voice is quietly strained, trying to contain my anger. “Start talking.”
She shakes her head again, unwilling to listen, holding her ground.
I didn’t expect any other response.
I reach out for the phone to say something when a man’s voice fills the space.
“Sarah.” His Boston accent is thick on his tongue. “I know you’re in Chicago. Now you know I am too. See ya soon, girl.”
The line goes dead, and all the heat I felt in her body before drains in an instant. All that fight gone.
She’s ice-cold and trembling. The incarnate of fear. I believe that she knows real monsters because this woman is fucking terrified.
Her back presses against my shirtless chest, and I realize I’ve pulled her into me protectively. I’m nobody’s hero. I barely even know this girl. But there’s a code among criminals: no women, no children.
And whoever that was, broke the code…and broke it hard on Sarah.
ICAN’T BREATHE.FUCK.THEY’REhere. My family’s here in Chicago, ready to drag me back kicking and screaming.
Time’s up.
