Page 102 of Working for the Mob

Genevieve leaned in, right up to my ear, and whispered, “We could go back to the hotel for round two?”

Her mischievous smile from earlier paled in comparison with the one now. A smile just for me. I already felt myself grow hard under the table. I was ready.

“Let’s go.”

The late autumn chill cut through my clothes the second I stepped off the stairs and onto the deserted city street. I pulled Genevieve in close to block the wind.

“The temps have really dropped,” Genevieve said, and pulled her scarf over her face.

“We’ll just have a brisk walk,” I said, trying to stay positive. I would hike Mt. Kilimanjaro in a blizzard if sex with Genevieve waited for me at the top.

As we walked, office buildings towered over us. We passed black windows and dark storefronts. It felt too still for the city. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“I think I could go for a hot bath,” Genevieve said, and I grunted acknowledgment. “Do you think you would join me?”

“I’m sure I could.” I gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Do you think you can walk any faster? This cold is getting to me.”

But I wasn’t on edge because of the cold.

“I will if it means getting closer to that bath,” she said, and quickened her pace.

I eyed a Greek-styled office building suspiciously, searching for dark figures behind each of the columns. Maybe I was being silly. My enemies weren’t here in the city. They were home in Lannington. I had nothing to fear here.

“Do you think we should take the subway?” I asked. Anything to get out of the open.

“Is the subway open this late? I’ve never been out past ten before,” Genevieve said, and I shook my head. I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to be cornered in a dark tunnel either.

“Do you know of any shortcuts?” I asked her. “Any way to get off the street?”

“What?” Suspicion accompanied her voice.

“I mean … do you know of a way that’d block out the wind?”

“No, I rarely came to the business part of Manhattan. Just a couple times to go shopping with my mom,” she said, and kept heading toward our hotel.

Shit.

A movement caught my eye but when I turned to look, nothing was there. Just a building of concrete bricks, illuminated in a faint orange from the street light. I convinced myself nothing hid behind the columns. Nothing hid behind the wall. The only people on the street dumb enough to brave this cold were me and Genevieve.

And then I heard the click. I dove and pulled Genevieve down behind a newsstand.

“What in the––” she said, but I covered her mouth with my hand and listened as hard as I could.

I ignored the fury in Genevieve’s eyes, because we were as screwed as a pooch in heat. I definitely heard the unmistakable click of a gun cocking.

I pulled the revolver out of my holster and tried to get my bearings. An office building stood across the street, with a grocery store beneath it. We crouched behind a newsstand with at least thirty feet between us and the lobby to the building behind us.

I drew my hand away from Genevieve, but hushed her with a finger to my mouth.

“We’re being followed,” I whispered, and Genevieve’s eyes widened.

“By who?” she asked, but I shook my head. The only family that would send their men after me were the Valuncias.

She nodded.

I needed to stay calm. I closed my eyes and practiced a breathing exercise I read about––in through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

“Genevieve. I need you to listen very––”

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