Page 9 of Bad Men

“I’m good at a lot of things,” she plowed on in a rush. “I can work off the payment.”

It dawned on me that we should probably tell her that Nero and I had already handled the matter. We had already decided to keep this one off the books. We would make up the difference between us and just keep whatever Luis gave us later. It was a first for either of us, but Luis was right, he’d never been late, not once in all the years we’d been collecting. Granted, any other person and we would have had to break a few bones as a reminder not to be late again, but he was Mia’s dad. I couldn’t do that to her. Neither could Nero based on the fact that he’d walked away with me, accepting the situation. We’d given Luis the required threat, warned him to get the money ASAP, and left. Neither of us had spoken of it, not through the whole ride back to our side of the town, but the implication was clear — we would cover it. That was how it was done. Even we couldn’t go back to Eduardo with only some of the money.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” Nero interrupted my train of thought. “Eduardo isn’t looking for a housekeeper. He’s not going to get you to file his tax returns. Hell, he won’t even bother listening to your case. He’ll want his money or you.”

Some of the color faded in Mia’s cheeks. “Me?”

“You,” Nero repeated, shredding the single word through gritted teeth. “He’ll want to fuck you. He’ll give you a day, maybe two, in exchange for your pussy. Are you willing to give him that?”

There was real fear in her eyes when she met his gaze. Her bottom lip quivered, but she opened her mouth to reply softly, “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” Nero bit out. “He likes pretty girls. You might even be able to get a week from him if you’re any good—”

The snap of Mia’s palm across Nero’s cheek stunned all of us into silence. The sound echoed in the settling twilight, followed by an unnerving hush. Mia looked on the verge of passing out with terror as she clutched her offending hand to her chest and gaped up at Nero.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted breathlessly. “I am so sorry. Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

Nero’s features never altered. He stared down at her with a mixture of annoyance and anger. I knew he wouldn’t hit her back. That wasn’t us. We didn’t hurt women. Yet, I was curious to see how he was going to handle this.

“Don’t do that again.”

Mia immediately shook her head wildly. “I promise.”

Matter settled, he drew in a breath that flared his nostrils and lifted his shoulders. His brows dropped low over his eyes, turning them opaque in the dusk. He reached out and snatched her elbow.

“You’re going home. Where’s your car?”

“I don’t have a car,” she snapped, twisting her arm in an attempt to break free of the hold. “Let go of me!”

Nero ignored her and faced me. “I’m taking her home.”

“Not in my baby you’re not,” I objected. “You’ve had just as much to drink as I have and I’m not in the mood to die tonight.”

He huffed a sigh, but I knew he wouldn’t press the matter; that was how my old man went, twisted around a eighty-year-old oak, vodka oozing from pores.

“We’ll take the train,” he decided, already moving in the direction of the station.

I followed without argument, curious to see how this new turn of events was going to end.

“I’m not going with you!” Mia panted, struggling to keep up with his wide strides. “Stop! You’re hurting me.”

Nero immediately released his grip but stayed towering over her. “You are going home and if I ever see you in this part of town again, I will put you over my damn knee and spank you until you can’t sit right for a week.”

Maybe it was my imagination, or a trick of the dull light but the look on her face wasn’t horror. It wasn’t even surprised. I couldn’t decide what it was when she swallowed audibly and licked her lips.

“You … you can’t do that,” she breathed, betrayed by the unmistakable tremor that caught in her voice.

Nero met the challenge with a deliberate step forward, stealing the safety of her distance to bear down on her. His dark eyes bore into her up turned face, a face so close I knew he could smell her every labored breath.

“Try me.”

The electric tension snapping in the air around them could have fueled an entire city block. It sizzled with a heat I felt from several feet away caressing my skin. The potency made my blood hum, luring me closer to the addictive crackle like a moth to a flame.

“Please,” she whispered, the plea on her lips a studded fist punching me in the chest. “I can’t go until I help my family.”

Even from two feet away, cloaked in a thick blanket of muted darkness, I knew the moment my best friend, the man I’d seen kill with his bare hands softened. I heard his sharp inhale before the hard ridges of his silhouette slackened. He straightened and the hands on his waist lowered.

“I’m still getting you home,” he told her. “We can talk about that on the way.”

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