Page 29 of Depraved
“Yeah. I’ve got shit to run and people to find.” I stop in front of her and look down. “Matteo will get your stuff. Play on your phone. Girls like that, right? They do that shit all the time.”
The look on her face could actually end my life. Before she can spit fire, I walk off toward my bedroom door, calling over my shoulder, “I gotta change. No coming in.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t. I have a bet to win.”
“SARAH.”MATTEO PUSHES AGAINST THEdoorframe. “Dante’s going to be so pissed when he finds out you tied me up and searched the house.”
I laugh loudly and look at him. “You’re such a pussy. One, if he cared about security, the asshole would have locks on his doors or at the very least on his desk. And two, he already knows. And three…if that’s your story, that I tied you up, you’re as good as dead.”
“Very nice. Good to know you’ll mourn me. Great friend you are.” He laughs as I open up another drawer from the desk in Dante’s office.
The size of his office is enviable; it’s probably the size of my bedroom in my apartment. A muted black bookshelf, filled with books, runs from floor to ceiling on one side, and on the other is his large stone-gray desk.
The room is masculine and strong with a faint smell of cigars. It’s definitely Dante, but I don’t believe that he uses it often because other than an errant pen, everything is neat and organized, each item having its place. It’s unnatural.
Yep, he’s a psycho, or this is a front.
My head pops up when Matteo lets out a breath, reminding me to answer. “I’m a hostage, and you’re an accomplice in that. Our friendship is void. And believe me, Dante is well aware that I’m searching his house…which is why I’m coming up empty. He isn’t stupid, and he also knows you’re a little afraid of me.”
“You’re lucky you’re a girl,” he shoots back, laughing.
“No, you are.” I exact, closing the last drawer when I come up empty.
Matteo walks inside the office, past me, and turns to come up from behind. He presses his hands on my back, pushing me out with enough force that my feet are made to take the steps.
I start to laugh and try to dig my feet into the ground, but he pushes harder.
Of all the guys, Matteo is the least intimidating. He’s so easygoing and charming, living like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The downside is he comes with annoyingly crude humor, and I’m fairly certain he fucks anything that walks.
“Come on. There’s nothing here that’s interesting,” he complains, “Other than his overly sorted pen container. But you didn’t think you’d be smarter than the FBI and find the smoking gun, did you?”
I reach my hands out to grab the doorjamb, stopping us just inside the room. “No. I’m not an idiot. But I’m trying to figure him out, and you should help me.”
Matteo lets out a groan. “Later. I’m starving, Sarah. Snoop later, cook for us now.”
“I can’t cook, you sexist dick,” I snap loudly.
Matteo spins me around to look at him, confusion on his face. “Seriously?”
“No, I can.” I smirk. “Come on. But you’re so entitled.” I laugh, letting the door go and exiting the room.
We walk down the hallway from Dante’s office to the stairs. “How many women do you have cooking for you on a weekly basis?”
“As many as I can eat,” he answers, bouncing down the stairs in front of me.
“Jesus. You’re disgusting.” I laugh.
When we hit the bottom of the stairs, we head toward the kitchen, and I smile at him.
“Would you give it all up for you know who?” I question, wagging my brows.
“Sarah,” he answers, my name a warning.
But I know his dirty little secret. I’ve seen him sneak into the downstairs’ rooms at Church to have his way with the one woman who has him hooked.
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s complicated. Too complicated.”
I shrug and start opening cabinets, unfamiliar with the kitchen, searching around for something to cook.
