“Okay, Trouble. Let’s play.”
Chapter 17
Hide & Go Get It
Bianca
Footsteps thunder down the staircase outside the door. After the stunt I pulled, Benny probably assembled his goons to take me out. I hope he brought backup with the way my adrenaline is doing cartwheels to pop someone else in the mouth.
The metal screech from the lock has my eyes on the splintered wooden chair in the corner. I somersault off the bed and tiptoe behind the opening door.
“It will be a longer day for you, Trouble.”
The threat in Benny’s voice sends the chair sailing through the air. It fractures into pieces across the door singed in rust. A cold tremor shoots down my back at his dark gaze, lifting from the shards of aged pine scattered over the concrete floor to me.
I wring my hands. “It slipped?”
Benny rubs his jaw. Veins ripple under the black rose on his hand, down his arm in thick streams. I want to ask him about his lack of a suit. Did he enjoy the beach in navy ankle pants and a white knit shirt while I rotted away in here all day?
The consequences of destroying one of his cars, which costs more than my 401(k), should terrify me. Too bad he pissed me off all over again.
His lips part, but I cut him off.
“Unless you came to kill me, move out of my way,” I warn through a low sneer.
I step closer.
“I’ve been taken.”
Closer.
“Drugged three times.”
Closer.
“I totaled your car, but whose fault is that? Not mine. Had you not snatched me and stuffed me into a cell to die of boredom, I’d be back in Naples.”
Closer.
“Whatever freak games you jerk your dick to don’t involve me. But I’ll tell you this, if you don’t slide your ass away from the door, I’ll fuck up another car before I hangyoufrom the ceiling.”
Bare feet to shoes, I stand my ground.
I want my naked mornings. Pastries from Mr. Giuseppe. The queen bed facing parts of Naples I’ve yet to uncover.
If a boss battle with the Pipelayer of Sicily stands between me and my vacation, guess who’s squaring up? I already took down his goons in these pajamas, and I’ll do it again.
Benny’s stare lingers. He’s unreadable, not that I’ve been around him long enough to learn his tells. Nothing moves—not the sharp ridges of his cheekbones, the line of his mouth, or the blades of his brows. Even his hair doesn’t give a damn. The dark waves remain fixed in place like they have better things to do.
Seconds stretch into silence before the chill in his tone slides down my back icily. “Freak games?” he asks, his jaw firm, eyes low. “As you wish.”
I close my eyes to hear better. “As I wish, what? You’ll let me leave?” Benny’s on his phone when I crack an eye open, those damn veins tempting me through motion. “As I wish, what?”
“You’re free to go, if you can make it off my property in time.”
“Wh-what?”
“No one will stop you, but I suggest you move. Your head start ends in ninety seconds.”
