Alexander scowls at her before looking up. He wags his finger at me, eyes narrowing. ‘I know you from somewhere.’
I cock my head to the side with a grin. ‘You get bottles of Macallan given to you regularly?’
‘Ah.’ Alexander snaps his fingers. ‘The bar, Luxe. That’s where I fucking know you from. Great. Is there anyone competent who works around here?’
‘You know each other?’ Gianna’s curls whip around as she turns to face me. She takes me in, eyeing me up and down, so fast that if I’d blinked, I’d have missed it. Still, it fires me up to know I have the same effect on her, because as she stands there in my jacket and a tiny denim skirt, the need to wrap her legs around me and devour her body on the hood of the Vignale is all-consuming.
But there’s a more pressing issue at hand.What the fuck are you doing at my girl’s work, maggot?
‘We’re oldfriends, aren’t we, Alexander?’
‘Friends?’ Gianna hisses with a dirty look.
I frown at her twisted look of apprehension. I’ll talk to her later about what’s eating her.
I round the countertop and wrap my fingers around Alexander’s nape, delighting in the way he tries to mask his grunt when I press hard. I may have let him think he had it over me back at the bar, but here, with Gianna, I don’t waste time.
‘I’ll see you out,’ I say.
I drag him out the exit along the side of the garage. A pile of discarded car parts blocks the view to the town centre across the road.
‘What the fuck? Get off me, man.’
I let him shake himself out of my grasp. If he’s smart, he’ll start walking.
He’s not.
Alexander takes a swing, but he’s slow and I slip to the right, avoiding it. His own momentum sends him tumbling to the concrete, face first. His teeth turn crimson as he brings his hands up to cradle his face. I almost feel sorry for the fucker.
He gets up, brushing himself off. ‘I don’t have time for this shit.’
‘Well, you’re gonna make time, because I have a few questions.’
‘Fuck you,’ he spits.
‘Fuckme?’ I mouth, pointing at myself in disbelief. Plucking the cigarette from behind my ear, I light the end. The maggot shuffles on his feet, dumping his weight on the right to keep it off his busted knee. I believe in balance. Maybe I’d better even it out for him?
He pushes past me, puffing out his chest with a sour look over his face. ‘Fucking bitch.’
I snap. Using my forearm, I pin him against the wall. With my free hand, I grab his busted knee, gripping it tightly, making him scream. ‘You should probably be resting this knee.’
‘Ow! Fuck man, let go!’
‘What happened to your tough guy act?’
‘Jesus Christ, man. W-what do you w-want?’ he cries, his face twisted.
‘W-w-what I want,’ I mock, ‘is for you to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.’
I take a puff of my cigarette, still waiting for an answer. I can see the cogs turning in his mind. Slowly.
‘Hurry up.’ I urge.
‘I … d-don’t know why. I was just told—’
Impatience gets the better of me. I dig my fingers in further, making him wince.
‘What the fuck—’
