Page 29 of Murder & Mayhem

I bought this place the second I had enough money. Not that I spend much time here, but it’s good to have a place in the city that’s not linked in any way to the Antonellis. The deed is registered under a false name and the apartment was paid for via a bank account in the same name, ensuring the property cannot be traced back to me. After living under Giovanni's thumb for so many years, and even now, feeling like he’s watching my every move, waiting for an excuse to kill me like he did my father, I needed someplace where I could just come to get away from it all. Dante’s the only one who knows this place exists, although he’s only been here a handful of times.

He’s already gotten himself comfortable on one of the sofas—although the furrow of his brows and flat line of his lips gives away his irritation over tonight’s events—so I claim the one opposite. Setting the glasses on the coffee table, I pour us both a hefty measure before lifting mine to my lips.

“They targeted us but weren’t willing to risk the lives of our workers,” Dante muses aloud as he reaches for his own glass. “And they targeted clubs, not our warehouses.”

“Maybe it’s one of the smaller gangs in the city trying to look like the big dogs?” I surmise. “Although, are there even many of them left?” I really don’t know much about the goings-on in the rest of Black Creek, except for what pertains to Sawyer. I know a gang called Reaper Rejects recently took control of her part of the city, and I’ve heard the occasional rumor about how they’re gaining more and more ground. The only other gang I’m familiar with is the Grim Bastards. They have had control of the eastern part of the city since The Feral Beasts fucked off, and we’ve had an understanding with them ever since. I don’t see why they would piss all over that now, and as I said earlier, it’s not their style to try and save lives. They’d have bombed that place to kingdom come and not given a shit about the casualties.

“Well, someone has it out for us,” Dante bites out before downing the last of his whiskey. “We’ve always ignored the rest of the city. Left the gangs to sort out their own shit, but maybe it’s time we started paying attention. One of them has gotten too big for their boots if they think they can just come into our territory and blow up our clubs without any sort of retaliation.”

I nod my head in agreement while grabbing my phone and typing out a quick text. There’s a certain redhead who is excellent at gathering intel and would be much more in the know when it comes to the who's who of Black Creek gangsters. I fight a smirk as I tell her to meet me at our new usual spot tomorrow, knowing the order will infuriate her.

When I’m done, I move on to the next problem. “In the meantime, we need to find somewhere else for the girls to work while we rebuild. And tighten security around the other clubs in case they decide to hit them as well.”

Leaning forward, Dante pours another shot of whiskey, downing it before his heated eyes bore into me. “Tomorrow.” He juts his chin in my direction. “Take off your shirt.”

Smirking, and more than happy to forget about tonight's events, I finish the last of my own drink before doing as he says. “Now your pants,” he orders as I shrug out of my shirt. Unbuckling my belt, I lift my hips enough to push my pants over my ass, taking my boxers along with them until I can kick them and my shoes off. Before he can direct me further, I palm my quickly hardening cock. My eyes hold his as he watches me get myself off. My skin heats beneath his perusal, and images of a feisty redhead have my hand and abs coated in cum in no time as my eyes slam shut, and I groan out my release.

By the time I peel my eyes open, Dante’s stripping off the last of his clothes and prowling toward me. This thing between Dante and I… it’s undefinable. It’s friendship, sex, and the fact that we only have each other to rely on, all mixed up into one. We both enjoy it—immensely—but we also don’t look too closely at what it is. It’s just two people trying to carve out moments of pleasure and seek comfort in someone else in an otherwise cruel, dark, and depressing world. Why does it need to be anything more than that?

***

I’m a quarter of the way through my strawberry ice cream sundae when the loud ding of the bell above the door alerts me to Sawyer’s presence. She’s half an hour early, but seeing as she’s always here before me—and given who she is and how she doesn’t trust me—I’d assumed she would come early to case out the place. Today, I made sure to arrive before her—something she’s clearly not happy about if the death glare she’s giving me is any indication—and had the pimple-faced kid behind the counter serve me before giving him a generous tip and telling him to fuck off for an hour.

Ignoring her glower, I smile at her. I’d had my reservations about telling her who I was, but now that she knows, I’m done being standoffish. It only ever made her more suspicious of me. The fact that she knows who I really am and didn’t immediately cut all ties is telling. Yeah, she’s undoubtedly wary of the Antonellis. I’m sure she’s heard the stories and rumors—most of which are true—but she still reached out to me for help. She still showed up here today. She may be guarded and untrusting of me, but she’s here… and that I can work with.

“Ice cream?” I offer, pushing the sundae glass across the table toward her as she slides into the booth opposite me. Her gaze darts from me to the pink ice cream and back again, an incredulous look flashing across her face like I just asked if she’d like to swallow a grenade.

She glances quickly around the ice cream parlor, checking we’re alone. “Uhh, no. Thanks.” Resting her forearms on the table's edge, she interlocks her fingers. “What did you want?”

Straight to the point, as always. I both like how direct she is and hate how impenetrable her walls are. But it’s going to take more than a smile and ice cream to worm my way into Sawyer’s good graces.

“Two of our clubs were attacked last night.”

One of her eyebrows raises slightly, her only reaction to what I just said. “How tragic for you.” Her deadpan tone gives away how little she gives a shit about Antonelli problems. And why should she? Hell, I barely give a shit.

“I need information on the various Black Creek gangs.”

Her eyes narrow, her lips flattening into a thin line. “Is this some ploy to try and get me to gather information for you again? ‘Cause, it’s not happening. If I’d known you were an Antonelli, I never would have agreed to that deal.” Pressing her hands flat on the table, she stands up. “We’re done. Lose my number. Don’t contact me again.”

Before she can slide out of the booth, I reach across the table and grab ahold of her upper arm. “Don’t lie to yourself,” I growl angrily. “You never asked. You didn’t want to know who you were in business with; what that information was for.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I plow on. “You did what you had to do to save yourself and your brother. No one could blame you for your choices. But they wereyourchoices.” Shrugging out of my grip, she continues to glare daggers at me. “I got you that job at Belle Donne as a favor; now it’s your turn to do one for me.”

With eyes of steel, Sawyer slowly lowers herself back into her seat. Her expression is completely shut down now. Nothing but a cold, impenetrable mask. “I haven’t exactly been keeping my ear to the ground recently.” Even her voice is monotonous and lacks any warmth or her characteristic snark.

“Well, what about Reaper Rejects? They have control of your territory now. You must know something about them.”

She shrugs. “Not really. They don’t bother us much.”

“Have you heard anything about them, or anyone else, having an issue with the Antonellis? Anyone who might have talked about making a stand against us?”

She sighs, getting annoyed. “No. As I said, I haven’t been listening out for information recently.” A small smirk lifts one side of her lips. “Besides, even if I did know something. I wouldn’t tell you. A couple of clubs being attacked is the least of what the Antonellis deserve.” The vitriol in her voice catches me by surprise. I know she doesn’t like the Antonellis. No one in Black Creek does, and after getting caught up in their attack at G&T, she’s got more reason than most to be pissed at them. However, the sheer hatred in her voice speaks to something more… but what?

My eyes narrow as I study her face, looking for any tell, but I can’t pick up anything. Pursing my lips, I sigh. “Fine.” I’d ask her to keep an ear out, but I know she won’t.

“Good. We all done here?” She doesn’t even wait for a response before pushing out of her chair again. I watch as she stands, feeling deflated and annoyed. I was hoping she would have some answers that I could take back to Dante. His father is already breathing down his neck to get to the bottom of this, but more than that, as I stare up into Sawyer’s impassive face, I haven’t the first idea how to bridge the impossible gap between us.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Without another word, she turns on her heels, and I watch as she strides away from me, wishing there was some way I could make her see that I’m not the enemy. I’m notherenemy.

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