Somehow that seemed both normal, and really fucked up. Still, Carlo had taught me loyalty, and I didn’t want to let him down. Not now, not ever. Resolve steeled, I nodded to Wolf and hurried into Carlo’s office, ready to face whatever mistake I’d made and do whatever needed done.
Carlo was pacing in front of his desk. As I entered, he stopped to stare at me. A storm brewed behind his dark eyes, his gray hair was disheveled, and his collared shirt was unbuttoned. Heavy lines beneath his eyes made him look older and more tired than usual.
I waited for the command to sit, but it never came. Instead, he glowered at me and asked, “What the fuck have you been doing since I gave you the order to find Joey Durante? Account for your time, Bones.”
I told him everything. Or, at least, I started to, but something kept me from mentioning the rumor about my sister’s existence. I told myself that I needed more information before I dropped that little bomb—after all, Matt could have made that whole thing up—but my real motivation for the omission came from the knowledge that Pops wasn’t an orphan. My entire family tree was a giant question mark, and I wanted answers.
Answers Natalia might be able to give me.
Skipping the part where Matt begged me to go get his phone and call Natalia, I went right to the name of Matt’s distributor. Carlo stopped me. “Xaoc. It’s Russian for ‘chaos’.”
“You’ve heard of him?” I asked.
Carlo nodded. “That motherfucker thinks he’s hot shit. Been stirring up trouble for the past few months. Did you get a description?”
I repeated the limited information Matt had given me.
Carlo leaned against his desk, lighting up another smoke. “That fits what we’ve heard. I don’t know what that son-of-a-bitch’s game plan is, but he’s like a goddamn ghost. We can’t find him anywhere.”
“Think he’s connected to Joey Durante?” I asked.
“I sure as hell hope not,” Carlo replied. “Only one way to know for sure. Get your ass out there and find Joey, Bones. I’m trusting you to handle this. Don’t let me down.”
“Yessir,” I said, heading toward the door.
It wasn’t until I started up my Jeep that I realized I still had no idea what had pissed Carlo off before he called me in.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ariana
IT HAD BEEN three days since I slept with Bones, and apparently I’d put it on him so well that he died, because I hadn’t heard from the asshole since. He told me he couldn’t promise me anything, and I understood what he was saying, I just hadn’t expected him to disappear from my life completely.
After all, he lived next door.
Still, no sign of him. I fiddled with my phone, wondering if I should text him. Maybe he was hurt or something? Angel would know if Bones was okay. I could go next door and ask, but no matter how I tried to spin it in my mind, I couldn’t come up with a valid excuse for asking about him. Not without sounding desperate or stalkerish.
I had already used the ‘need help moving my bedroom furniture’ excuse, and that was way more pathetic than I wanted to sound ever again.
Guys need space, and coming off as desperate or stalkerish would probably only push Bones further away. I didn’t want that. No, I wanted lots more amazing nights with him deep inside me. With him turning me over and pounding into me from behind while he played with my clit and talked dirty in my ear.
Just thinking about it made me wet.
I wasn’t in love with Bones—love was a useless emotion that made people weak and stupid—but I was in lust with him. I wasn’t after his promises; I was after his body.
He’d called me a friend, but friends checked in with each other every once in a while. Friends came back for rounds two and three. Friends didn’t just vanish.
Friends didn’t allow friends to grow cobwebs in their coochie.
Clearly, he wasn’t craving my body like I was craving his, but a text now and then to let me know he was still alive would be nice.
Despite our lack of communication, Bones must have gotten his hands on my work schedule, because for the past two days a driver had shown up to take me to and from work. Even though I said I liked riding the bus, I loved Bones’s protective streak. It made me feel wanted and valued which only made me want him more, which, in turn, frustrated me further.
I don’t know what he’d done to turn me into such a sex fiend, but his body tempted me far more than any drug I’d tried. Why did he have to be so addictive? One hit, and I was done for. His body could easily become my new escape from reality, if only he’d come around again.
While I was aching for a repeat performance, someone knocked on my front door. Through the peep hole, I saw the object of my desire, and butterflies started fluttering in my stomach. I smoothed my hair down, took a nice, calming breath, and tried not to look too excited to see him as I opened the door.
“Hey, you, how are you?” I asked, sounding completely lame.
