Page 45 of Blood on Ice

He smiled. “I never reveal my secrets, but in this case, I made an educated guess. You wouldn’t be here if he was alone and unguarded.”

Damn it. Would I ever learn not to get caught in his traps? “I don’t think Zeke realizes how much danger he’s in. He’s scared, and he knows the guys in Vegas mean business. He’s desperate to keep his career on track and not let his gambling ruin everything for him, but I don’t think he realizes how fucking crazy Benito is. That motherfucker would attack him in the middle of the street in broad daylight. Zeke’s strong as hell, but?—”

“His strength won’t do a damn thing against a gun.”

“Exactly. And he was walking around unarmed. He doesn’t even carry a fucking knife on him. I put a tracker in the pocket of his leather jacket while he was in the bathroom. He wears it everywhere.”

“Jesus,” Val said.

Pops actually smiled. “You really have assimilated to this world. You were meant for the life you’re in, but if Zeke isn’t….”

“He’ll adjust,” Val said. “Liam has.”

“Liam was also born to it.”

“It’s not like in your genes or something,” Val argued.

Pops raised his brows. “Are you so sure?”

“Look at Cousin Ricky.”

My father snorted. “Don’t mention him ever again. I don’t think he could shoot a wall if he was two feet from it. He’s crashed at least five cars, and he faints at the sight of blood.”

“So I’m not the biggest fuck up in the family after all.”

Pops rolled his eyes. “Go back to Zeke. I’m going to need time to delve into this. I’ll put everyone on high alert and talk to Lucien first thing tomorrow. We’re not going to let Benito leave the city alive.”

“Fuck right we’re not.”

I walked out side by side with Val. I’d won. At least for now.

16

ZEKE

So much had happened in the last day that my head was spinning. I felt the need to pinch myself and make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Had Vito gotten on his knees and given me the best blow job of my life? And then he’d come on me? And I’d begged for it? This was insane.

I wanted him to tell me everything he knew about Benito. I might not love the idea of Vito enacting revenge on anyone who threatened me, but Benito deserved whatever he got. I was sure Vito knew more about him than he’d told me.

How long would it be until Vito returned? This was all so overwhelming that part of me wanted to run before he got back, but I had a feeling I’d never get past the guards he’d stationed here, especially not with one of them across the room. Even if I could elude them, where the fuck was I going to go? I had a game the next day. I had to show up for that unless I was going to run from everything, which would be incredibly stupid. Especially when I had no idea where Benito was or what he was planning for me next.

Also, I really wanted to see what else Vito would do to me, with me. I couldn’t imagine ever getting bored with him. He might be a fucking criminal, but so were the people who were after me. I might not be sure of much, but I knew I was safer with Vito than with some raging psycho.

I ran my hands through my hair and took a deep breath. Then I remembered there was a stranger sitting in my apartment. “I’m going to be in my room.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be right here.”

I walked away, closed the door, and flopped face down on the bed. I wished I’d never set foot in a casino.

Then you wouldn’t know Vito.

But I’d have a solid career ahead of me instead of being afraid that I’ll be beaten or killed or fail so badly on the ice that I get fired. Vito was obsessed with me now, but I didn’t know why, and he could change his mind any time.

Are you sure about that?

The way Vito looked at me, the way he’d worshipped me in on the couch, could easily make me think there was more between us than lust and my need for protection, but I couldn’t fool myself. We weren’t in a relationship, and we weren’t going to be. He was a loan shark, and I needed a squeaky-clean reputation.

I reached for the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out a small photo album filled with pictures of my mom and me as a child. I’d lost her when I was fourteen, and I’d gone to stay with my grandparents. I was thankful they’d taken me in and that they let me continue to play hockey. The expense and the time it took was a burden on them, but they made sure I got where Ineeded to go and had all the proper equipment. I couldn’t really complain, except they were distant and cold, clearly not wanting a teenager in their home. They’d met my all my material needs, but they hadn’t given me affection like my mom had.

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