Page 22 of PortCity Killers

??E I G H T??

I returned to my original place at the bar, and this time when the bartender came around, I asked for a shot of Jameson. It was smooth, but the spike of heat that burned down my throat through my chest was stronger than I had expected it to be.

To be fair, it had been a long time since I’d had anything stronger than a sparkling water, despite working at a bar, but the burn wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

It helped me focus on something other than the fact my hands were shaking with the urge to dart from Valentina’s like a rabbit running across the road.

I didn’t bother because there was nothing for it. If I left, what would we do then? Jaymes might be able to go back to his adopted family though I doubted they would take him back, especially after the way he treated them and left their family home trashed.

But me? Where would I go? Hide out in Bryce’s apartment forever? Start a knitting club from home to bide the time?

PortCity had always been my home. I was born and raised here until a stint outside the city had dragged me across the boundary, but the moment I had left my family I had come right back like a moth to the flame.

The lights dimmed again, the woman’s voice mingling with the swirls of cigar smoke that lingered in the air. There was a movement to my right as a man came from the exit hall. He stood beside me, his face lowering just enough so I could see the tilt of his head.

I got up slowly, my heart renewing its upbeat rhythm. I dropped some cash on the table top and followed him through the dark hallway, shuddering as we passed the glowing red exit sign. There were only two other doors in this hall, both facing one another.

The man stood in front of one and indicated that I should open the other.

My hesitation only lasted a second before my nervous energy pushed me forward. The door shut behind me with a click that sounded more like a gunshot than the gentle timber of locks that I knew it was.

The room was lush. That’s the only word I could have used to describe it. The low lights kept the same dim feel that was floating around the lounge. The only difference was there was no stage, and there was a desk in lieu of the bar.

Individual circular chairs that matched the outside couches sat in front of the desk, a high wingback chair sitting on the other side was occupied by none other than Valentina Giovenni.

Don stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against some shelving behind them directly across from a tight spiral staircase that led up to who knows where.

I looked between them, silently. Don’s face was impassive, as if he was surprised I hadn’t left but didn’t want to show it.

Valentina, on the other hand, had no such qualms about hiding her satisfaction at my presence; at least I hoped it was satisfaction.

I couldn’t really tell with the way her eyes gleamed and her smile twisted, but she certainly looked like she had won wager of the year.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my love, please come in.” She motioned towards the seats in front of her desk. She made a small sound when I didn’t move, “Come now, we won’t bite.”

My legs shifted of their own accord, shaky but sure, like they didn’t want to anger the woman when she smiled so brightly. I knew the feeling all too well, the desire to be good for someone, to earn their approval and maintain their good graces.

It felt dangerous to be feeling it around someone like Valentina. She stood as I slowly approached, her long legs carrying her to her full height. She wore a black silk suit, the material smoothing over her curves like water.

The zing that slid through my core did nothing to settle the nerves that were still present.

To my surprise, she was nearly as tall as Don, leaving me in the dust as the shortest of them. Her hair was thick, full and held the perfect amount of shine as it framed her face, falling gently around her shoulders.

I fought the urge to fuss at my own curls that I knew were ratty from the rain, likely flying around the face like sticks in a bird’s nest.

“Don says you have something for me, is that right?” She asked as I took the seat she indicated, her red stained lips tilted, giving me little flutters in very inappropriate places.

The briefest thought of how not unpleasant it would be to sacrifice my body for my life with Valentina graced the edges of my mind, but I pushed it back with a shaky breath, hoping I wasn’t scenting the place like a damn hussy.

I had been prepared for psycho-crazy-bitch Valentina; while hot, I could remember that I might lose a limb if I said the wrong thing.

Graceful smiles and soft words Valentina? Smells like spearmint Valentina? My brain was having a hard time functioning which left me squirming in my seat, ready for the next set of breathy words out of her mouth.

Don, who’s voice grated against my clit roughly, like he was slowly taking his tongue across it, seemed to be the exact antithesis of Valentina. She was light, airy, and held a hint of what I could imagine she would sound like when she had you down on your knees in front of her, hands gripping your hair.

I could see it, clear as if I was watching myself from afar, and by the look on her face, Valentina knew exactly what I was blushing from.

“My brother,” I cleared my throat, “I know that he was part of the Collin situation, but he was tricked—blackmailed by Collin. I have information that I think you’ll want to know, but before I give it to you, I need to know my brother isn’t going to end up in PortSea for his part.”

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