Page 30 of Thrill Me (Dark Odyssey 3)

My heart lifts, skipping several beats and I rush forward. I call to him just as he’s going through the double doors leading up to his lounge but my voice is swallowed up in the loud music.

I pass by a couple pressed against the wall having sex and rush through the doors that are about to sway shut.

“Salvatore!” I call him. My voice is more audible now. In here the music is funneled down to a low volume and it’s pretty much the same all the way up.

He stops at the top of the stairs on hearing me but he doesn’t turn around.

That doesn’t stop me from going to him.

It’s only when I get to him that he turns and I see his face.

I see his face and I gasp.

He has two black eyes and bruises to his left cheek.

“Salvatore, what the hell happened?” The words fly from my mouth and my heart squeezes.

He tilts his head to the side and a lock of his hair falls over his eye.

That was a foolish question and I should know it was foolish to ask. I know this man. The only way his face could look like that is if he allowed someone close enough to him to get that damn close.

There’s only, literally a handful of people in this world who would qualify for that.

But I can narrow it down to one single person.

“Babygirl, you know better than to ask questions you don’t want to hear the answer to,” he answers through gritted teeth.

I don’t know whether I should breathe fire or scream.

“Salvatore I begged you not to do anything,” I wince.

“Like fuck Mimi,” he snaps and the vein in his neck pulses against his skin. “Fucking hell. Don’t fucking talk to me right now if you’re going to tell me shit like that. You drop a fucking bomb on me and expect me to sit down and scratch my ass on it.”

Darkness flashes in his eyes and a chill runs through me. I’ve never seen him look so mad.

Never, and not at me.

“I didn’t expect you to beat him up,” I throw back.

He shakes his head. “Yeah, of course not. You know why? Because I’ve grown soft and you forget who I am and what the fuck I am. Mimi I’m a fucking mobster. Not one of the fucking girls you share your worries with. I’m not thisfriendyou think I am. I’m not that and that’s the mistake you made.”

I stare at him, studying the rage in his expression but also the hurt. I know without him saying that it’s all a mixture of everything and yes, he is mad at me.

He’s mad as fuck that I told him I couldn’t be with him.

And, yes he is mad at the situation.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Don’t be. Nothing for you to be sorry for.”

“Please tell me you didn’t hurt him.”

“Left him alive,” he answers with an air of menace in his tone.

“You didn’t tell him… did you?” I’m afraid of the answer to that more.

“No precious Gabriel doesn’t know shit.”

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