ONE
Angelo
“Haveyou laid eyes on the guy I just brought in?” A female officer leans against the cold wall of the jail cell, her voice a whisper that carries through the cramped space.
“Who, the Rossi guy?” another officer asks.
A subtle smirk curves my lips, unnoticed amongst the unfolding conversation as the first officer continues, her words dripping with a mixture of admiration and mischief. “Yes, him. Oh god girl, if I were ever tempted to bend a rule, it would be to reserve him a cell of his own. He’s a towering figure, isn’t he? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s impressive in other departments. Just look athim-that dark mane, that sun-kissed skin, those muscles, good lord hold me back.”
“Careful with your words in here! Someone might.. oh, damn. That’s him?”
“Told you,” the first officer murmurs. “He’s worth a suspension, if it means getting up close and personal. He wears dishevelment like a badge of honor, doesn’t he? A challenge I’d love to take on. Teaching a bit of lawfulness to a wild one like him.”
“Give me a chance and I’ll bet I can make you a bad girl,” I say in a throaty growl as I open my eyes to meet theirs.
A groan escapes one officer while the other pulls her companion away, leaving me to smirk and stretch out my neck, feeling the weight of the cell press in around me.
A few of the other guys here watch me like they’re not sure if I’m a threat or a potential ally. They whisper, sizing me up.
Meanwhile, the women in the holding cell next door are more direct.
“Hey, baby, need a little company?”
“Bet I could make you forget all about your troubles.”
I flick a glance their way, give a wink, but nothing more. I don’t buy pleasure. I don’tneed to. Right now, I need to focus on getting the hell out of here.
That means either starting the right kind of fight to force my lawyer’s hand or tracking down the man who was supposed to get me out before I was booked.
A shift in the air pulls my attention.
One of the larger guys—a biker or something—steps forward. He’s covered in ink, the kind that tells stories most people don’t want to hear. His eyes rake over me, assessing.
“You’re not a criminal,” he mutters.
Shows what he knows. I crack my knuckles, stretching out as I reply in a low gravelly voice, “Going to introduce yourself, or do you owe me some money?”
He snorts at me. I narrow my eyes when he takes a step forward, something behind his back. “Not another step unless you want a concussion.”
“The officers say you’re a Rossi? Couldn’t buy your way out of a murder charge?” he sneers.
I hear my name whispered around me like a fucking chant, but I meet his gaze, unfazed. “They couldn’t pin a murder chargeon me if they tried, even with my sister feeding them information.”
I snort at the others, and they take a hurried step back.
“Brought down by a bitch, huh?” the biker asks.
I narrow my eyes and drop my voice to something lethal. “Insult my sister again, and I’ll kill you before you can put that knife you’re hiding to use.”
“Bullshit,” the man snarls. “You’re a con man. A real Rossi-”
“You seem too concerned about who I am,” I say, standing up to show off my impressive height. If they expect a demon, I’m happy to give them one, but no one said demons didn’t have charm. “Why do you care? Are you applying to be my right-hand man? Flashing your rap sheet instead of your resumé?”
The guy snarls. “Rossies tried to ruin my business and take out my men.”
“We don’t try.” I curl my hands into fists. “We succeed, which means you were too much of a coward to be there.”
That’s all it takes to start the fight. The guy comes at me and I dodge, so he hits the wall behind me. I tackle him, and I break hisarm before he can recover from his attack. Some others get in on the action, sharks in the water scenting blood and determined to get in a bite, but I’ve been trained well.
