Page 48 of King of Malice

“Whitney has a way of getting under your skin.” Phoenix threw me a look.

Constantine chuckled. “You might have difficulty handling her. I brought towels. You’ll find everything else you need on the jet.”

When Phoenix handed me a towel, I didn’t bother looking in his direction. Maybe I wanted him to toss it at me, which would make me feel somewhat better for hating him after he’d saved my life.

Twice.

But he gently laid the plush towel across my legs. The simple gesture dug at my heartstrings. Why did I still care in the least about the man after what he’d put me through? As I pulled the towel to my face, I closed my eyes, trying to block out what they were saying.

“Did you detect more of the assholes?” Phoenix gritted out, keeping his voice low as if worried about what I’d hear. I almost laughed at the thought. I’d never make it away from him alive.

“No, but the shitheads we just eliminated didn’t come from Philly. They’re locals.”

“Shit,” Phoenix snorted. “I didn’t know the Armenians had a stake in your area.”

Constantine snickered. “It would seem the Midwest is the new mecca. I’m dealing with the freaking Cosa Nostra. The Russians are active again. The Poles. There’s even a well-organized chapter of Sinaloa Drug Cartel taking up residence down the street from my office.”

“Jesus, man. Maybe you need more muscle. I can lend you a few after this shit is over with.”

The way the two men were sharing anecdotes turned my stomach. Just another day in la-la land.

“It’s the cost of living. It’s much cheaper than New York or LA.”

I finally glanced at Constantine, so many questions racing in my mind as to how his wife could tolerate his criminal activities.

“Are you really comparing cities with regard to the cost of living for mafia guys?” I asked, my tone still demanding.

“And their families,” Constantine teased. Then he threw Phoenix an amused glance. “She had no idea who you were.”

“Not until the train derailed.”

My God. Now they were talking like I wasn’t in the back of what I had to guess was a bulletproof vehicle speeding toward a jet while the henchmen constantly looked for other bad guys. I hadn’t fallen into a nightmare. I’d drifted straight to hell.

“Contrary to what your friend believes, I’m not in the habit of waking up one morning and telling myself that today is the day to track down, seduce, and betray some powerful mafia guy. That really just isn’t on my bucket list.” I’d thrown the statement out as if it would mean anything.

Now the driver chuckled, Constantine taking a deep breath.

And I felt the weighed heat of Phoenix’s stare, firecrackers in his eyes. I was being foolish, the rational side of me incapable of pulling back into the shell I’d allowed him to drag me in.

I was no fool. In the hierarchy of a closely knit organization such as the type of group Constantine mentioned, the number one aspect of surviving the intense scrutiny was respect. I’d disrespected Phoenix in front of an equal in his field of debauchery. I would certainly be punished for it later.

So what?

“You’re cold. You’re terrified. And you need answers,” Phoenix said gently, much more so than I could ever have imagined before the nightmare began. “We will talk, Whitney, but at this point, we still aren’t out of danger. Do you understand?”

The seconds seemed to tick by as I locked eyes with his. For a few crazy ticks of my heart, I could hear his laughter from our game of one-upping the other. I could also see images of his eyes the way they devoured me while he was driving his cock deep inside. And I tingled from the crackle of current that had yet to stop running through both of us, replacing every molecule.

Letting it go would be difficult, but I was determined to do so before the ache in my heart grew any deeper. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” When he squeezed my leg, so much of me swooned inside, butterflies tickling at my senses. But those same butterflies suddenly turned into ferocious man-eating insects, teeth with razor sharp points, the creature wanting nothing more than to drive them into his neck.

But I remained quiet, maybe out of respect.

Maybe out of rage.

Or maybe because I couldn’t stop shivering, terrified that I’d never be able to rid my mind or my heart of the man who awakened me.

“What are you going to do about your issue in Philly?” Constantine asked.

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