Page 34 of Dangerous Games

“Good luck tonight, Mr. Lewis. I’m sure you’re going to need it.”

Chapter

Eleven

BRONWYN

“You look better today,” Nate says the next day at work as he looks me over.

“Gee, you sure know how to make a girl feel good. Next time just tell me I looked like shit.” I laugh.

Nate groans. “Oh, come on, you know what I mean. You looked like you were two seconds from dropping dead yesterday. Did you get some sleep?”

“I did. Thanks again for covering for me.”

“Like I said, don’t sweat it. I still owe you.”

Last night was the first time in weeks that I slept through the night and actually felt rested. Which is kind of ironic considering how my day played out yesterday. You would think I would have had nightmares, but I didn’t. I find it oddly comforting having someone who’s willing to kill someone for me. I’m trying not to look too deep into why I like that, but it’s a major turn-on. I only wish I could have seen Gio in action. I keep catching him in the act of cleanup, which doesn’t seem as fun.

My body lights up whenever he’s around. Every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire as soon as he’s in my space. The man is intoxicating in a way I wouldn’t mind staying drunk on him the rest of my life. It seems like a good way to go out.

There’s just one small problem, though. I can’t get involved with him. I had heart palpitations when he said I was his woman. A man like him is the type to have a wife and wifey on the side. I want no part of that. Plus, what happens when it goes south and then I get evicted? I’m already walking a thin line with them paying me for my silence. Gio would probably just have me taken out. And the sad thing is no one would miss me. Nate would only notice I’m gone because I’m not there to cover shifts.

“Earth to Bronwyn.” Nate snaps his fingers in front of my face.

“Shit, sorry. I zoned out.” I wince. I hope he wasn’t saying anything important, and I wasn’t listening like an asshole.

“I asked you a question three times. I even told you I hated your favorite game and nothing. Are you sure you’re feeling better?” Nate eyes me skeptically, concern etching his features. “You can talk to me, you know.”

My mouth opens at the same time the bell above the entrance chimes, signaling to us that a customer has arrived. “Welcome in. Can I help you find anything?” I call out as I turn around to face the front.

I freeze, and my stomach lurches into my throat at the sight of Matteo Adduci walking toward me.

Shit.

I haven’t talked to him face to face since I signed my lease. That was six months ago. We don’t talk. I mail my rent checks on time every month with the exception of this month, and he cashes them promptly, his silent way of letting me know he got it. I texted him asking for the extension because I was too much of a chicken to do it in person. Which means he’s here either to collect my late rent money that I don’t have, kick me out, or try to lure me out of here so he can kill me because I’ve seen too much.

“Hello, Bronwyn. I was wondering if you had a minute for us to talk,” Matteo says as he stops in front of the cash register. His fingers tap on the counter as he looks around the store, checking everything out.

My eyes slide to Nate in what I hope is a silent communication to help me the fuck out, but the asshole doesn’t pick up what I’m putting down.

“I’ve got this, Bron. Go take your break.” Nate waves me off.

My eyes narrow at him.

Traitor.

I internally sigh. I swear the universe hates me. “We can talk in the breakroom,” I tell him as I make my way back there, not checking to see if he’s following me or not.

I take a seat at the small table as Matteo enters behind me and shuts the door, leaving the two of us alone. My heart is pounding in my ears as I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I can’t help it. Matteo has an energy that commands a room the second he steps into it. It’s scary as shit. I know he has the power to make my life way worse with the snap of a finger.

“I really appreciate you giving me an extension on rent. I’ll have it by the end of next week. I promise it won’t happen again,” I ramble, my eyes darting around the break room. I don’t have the guts to look him in the eye.

“That’s not why I’m here, Bronwyn,” Matteo says, his deep voice whipping throughout the room.

“It’s not?” I ask, my voice raising an octave.

He’s here about the hush money. That’s the only other explanation. He probably decided he didn’t feel like paying me off anymore and wants to tie up a loose end. The loose end being my life.