Page 30 of Devil's Last Dance

According to their traditions, he should have killed Maria, but he gave her the option of being put up for auction. One of his men had to take responsibility for her. He’d sent Draven, knowing his brother had a thing for her. It had all worked out for her and his brother.

He thought about Candice. She was never far from his mind, even though he tried his hardest to forget about her, but she was a hard woman to forget.

Letting go of his brother, he turned back toward the main porch to see Maria watching them.

He decided it was time to leave. He and Draven always made sure they didn’t allow any doubt by onlookers. To the world, they were not brothers, so he made his way toward the back porch, gave Maria his best smile, and then left the house.

This is what he had been doing for years. It was easier this way.

They hadn’t had to deal with anyone threatening to expose his and Draven’s secret in years. Antwone didn’t know if there was anyone alive who would have known about their past or their father, but it was easier to keep everything secret.

Leaving Draven’s country home, he climbed into the back of his car and allowed his driver to take him away.

He’d not tried to leave in six months. The temptation had been there.

His nights were filled with the memory of what he once had. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Candice. All he wanted was her.

He’d tried to show an interest in the girls offered to him. There was no desire for a sixteen-year-old girl, or even an eighteen-year-old one.

They would play the docile part expected of them, but all he could see was a woman with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and full lips. A woman who had no qualms about wrapping her legs around his waist as he drove into her. A woman who screamed his name in absolute pleasure—Candice. She was all he could think about. There was no other woman for him.

Running a hand down his face, he looked out into the night. He had to keep reminding himself it was better this way. It was better for her. His enemies were always close. It was a miracle they hadn’t found her or him during the brief time they were together.

Reaching into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, he paused. He couldn’t find his cell phone. Patting each of his pockets, the only phone he had was his business one. Where the fuck was his private cell? He wiped his face, trying to think of when he last saw his damn cell, and he was convinced it must have been at his place.

It would be fine. All he’d do was hover over her number or the message he had yet to listen to.

Candice had called him a couple of times the day after, and then there was a single message a month later, but he’d not brought himself to listen to it. He just couldn’t, because part of him was afraid she had only dialed him by mistake.

****

Two Days Later

Antwone didn’t know what Draven wanted, but his brother had called him that morning and expressed an urgency to see him. He hadn’t argued so he’d climbed into his car and drove to the location his brother had sent.

It was a run-down-looking diner that seemed to have stuck with a fifties theme, and much to his surprise, it was quite busy. The outside might look run-down, but as he stepped inside, he saw it was actually a really nice place.

Draven was sitting in the back in a private booth. The place was active, and Antwone found himself tensing up. This was not a good place to be meeting. If anything happened, a lot of civilians would suffer.

Draven didn’t look too happy, which could only mean this trip was not a social call, which was a shame.

Arriving at the booth, he slid inside.

“This was unexpected,” he said. “What’s happening?”

Draven stared at him. “Is there anything you need to tell me about?”

Antwone looked toward his brother. Even though he was The Boss, over the years, he had confided in him about certain decisions, but not all of them. Only the ones that could eventually affect Draven.

“No.”

Several seconds of silence passed and then Draven nodded.

He reached into his jacket pocket, placed Antwone’s own personal cell on the countertop, and slid it toward him.

“How did you get that?” he asked.

“It dropped out of your jacket the other day.”

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