Page 62 of Iron Heart

The curl in the man’s lip as he says the words makes it clear he doesn’t believe me. I pretend I don’t notice.

“Yeah. Hey, Dominic!” I call out in a singsong voice, giving him an exaggerated wave from acros the gravel lot. He cocks his head and gives me a quizzical look as he returns the wave, uncertain.

“Everything good?” I yell. “You have car trouble, or something?” It’s the first thing that comes to my head. I guess I’ve decided that acting like a clueless idiot is my best course of action.

All the men are now gaping at me in open confusion. At least the ones across from Dominic have dropped their menacing postures somewhat. One of them says something to him, and he nods and slowly walks toward us.

“Hey. Tori, right?” Dominic calls, giving me a casual, devil-may-care grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yep. I was just passing by and happened to see you.” I pause. “Everything okay here?”

“Oh sure, sure,” Dominic says hastily. “We’re just shooting the shit. You know. No worries.”

He’s lying. I know he is. But even so, I definitely get the idea he wants me to leave. Whatever is going on, he doesn’t want me to ask any questions.

I wonder if this has anything to do with Dante’s motorcycle club? Didn’t Dante say Dom was going to be doing some transporting for them?

My eyes slide from him to the two men glaring at me. Realistically, I can’t do anything to help Dominic, if he needs help. And if I stay here for much longer, something tells me my chances of getting away safely will diminish considerably.

“Okay, then!” I say brightly. “Well, I’m gonna be late for my appointment, so I’ll be on my way. See you later, Dominic!”

The other two men flash each other a look, as if they’re considering not letting me go. But in the end, they stand in watchful silence as I get in, turn the ignition, and drive away as calmly and carefully as I can while trying to control my trembling.

I end up finding the distillery after backtracking about three-quarters of a mile, and show up only five minutes late for my appointment. The interview goes well — except that I accept the vodka samples they offer me a little too gratefully, given that it’s only eleven o’clock in the morning.

When I’m done at the distillery, still feeling shaky, I grab lunch from my favorite local sandwich shop and then drive back to the newspaper office. At my desk, I find myself staring into space, lost in thought, for a good part of the afternoon.

If Dante and I were still talking, would I tell him what I saw today?

Probably.

Should I try to tell him now?

Maybe.

But he’d probably just think I was making up excuses to see him.

So… would I be?

I honestly don’t know.

But I do know my mind is going into journalist mode overdrive, over what just happened back there with Dominic.

I want to find out what that altercation was about. Just to satisfy my own curiosity.

And also, maybe just a little bit because he’s Dante’s brother.

I go back and forth, my mind ping-ponging all afternoon with arguments for and against letting the whole thing drop altogether.

When the work day is over, I make my decision, almost without even realizing I’m doing it. I poke my head into Frank’s office to tell him goodbye, and then head out into the late afternoon sunshine. I get out my cell phone and punch in Savannah’s number.

“Vannah,” I begin when she answers, “please don’t ask me any questions about this. But do you happen to know where the Lords of Carnage have their clubhouse?”

25

Dante

It’s been over three fucking weeks since I last saw Tori. And I still can’t get her face out of my goddamn head.

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