Thick fingers suddenly wrap around my jaw and press tightly into my cheeks, causing my teeth to rub off the soft flesh inside my mouth. “So fucking cute, Bay…how you’ve twisted this all in your head. I got more cards than you. I have more avenues and ways of making you stay out of trouble. You think because you’re pissed that you get to shove me away? That I’m just gonnaallowyou to go on a suicide mission with one of my brothers’ baby in your stomach?”
I shove at his hand but to no avail, causing more frustration to cover my impending scream that wants to rip from my throat.
But that’s the bitch way out.
“We done here?”
Cairo doesn’t remove his hand, nor the fixed look on his face. “Get in that room, Bay.”
“No.”
“I will throw you over my shoulder, slap that ass, and fuck you into remembering what you gave me and what I expect in return.”
“That was your first mistake. You expecting shit from me.”
“Bay, I will make sure De Leon is delivered to you on a silver platter with an apple in his mouth. Juststopthis.”
The desperation in his tone hits me in the chest and slowly seeps into the rational part of my brain that agrees. Nothing I’m doing right now is helping. My remorse and sorrow are narrowed-minded and homed in on somebody.
The only body.
The one I’m personally going to rip apart until I can’t see orfeelanymore.
“Don’t worry, Sinatra,” I mutter. “All is fair in love and war, and I don’t expect to go down without Matteo dead first.”
“You seem so fucking sure of that,” he whispers. “Why don’t you let me into that pretty head of yours so I know what you plan on doing.”
“Nothing set in stone yet.” I reach up for his face, drawing my thumb across the rough stubble of his cheek. “But I’ll let you know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“And if it’s not?”
His brown eyes darken. “Then you’ll wish you’d never been born by the time I’m done with you.”
I smile at him, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I already do.”
TEN
bay
“I want itexactlylike this.”I hand the beefy tattoo artist my phone and go back to staring at the plethora of pictures and artwork on the walls. “And I want it done today.”
“Today?” he immediately repeats, jerking his head up to me, unable to hide the sheer befuddlement of his tone. “This isdaysof work. And, even then, people don’t do it over consecutive days. They take breaks.”
“Are you saying you can’t do it?” I flick my resting bitch face to him because if he can’t, I’ll find someone else who can. “Just let me know so I can take my business?—”
“There are over adozentats on this dude’s arm, babe.” His brown irises fall back to the screen, studying what I handed him. “I’ll need to draw them all out and—” I pluck my cell from his thick fingers and begin sliding out of the pleather chair.
This guy came highly recommended by Juice. But I’m highly unimpressed he’s giving me shit when he’sclearlynot that busy.
This parlor is a ghost town.
“It’s fine,” I divulge, getting to my feet. “Thanks for your time?—”
“Well, hold up, hold up,” he double-backs, shooting an arm out to stop me from leaving. “You’re Juice’s girl. I didn’t say I wasn’table to do it. But you’re going to be here all day.”
The guys outside watching me would love that.
