My eyes unconsciously flicker over toward Marchella, who is about to shoot another finger of tequila. Jesus, I need to get some food in her or she’ll be hanging over my railing, puking her guts up within the hour.
“Never had a problem finding one before.”
Matteo snickers. “No, you haven’t. Okay, I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days.”
“Sure,” I croak, clicking off the phone.
“Doesn’t sound like you gave him the scoop,” Dante quips.
“He was preoccupied with Heaven,” I mumble.
“And what have you never had a problem finding before?” Dante asks.
“Christ, man. Do you have to eavesdrop like a fucking spy all the time? Do you ever just tune shit out?”
“Nah, not when it gets your dick in a twist like this.” He grins. “So. What does he have you doing for him this time?”
“He wants me to go to some charity event tomorrow night. He asked if I could find a date.”
“Ah,” Dante says with a nod. “So, kidnapping with a purpose. Nice.”
Marchella narrows her slightly drunken eyes at me. “Are you thinking that I’ll go with you to this thing?” she screeches. “Because, oh hell fucking no to that!”
“You don’t have a choice,” I growl.
“Really?” she snaps. “Then you’re gonna have to shoot me with another dart to get me anywhere near that event!”
“That can be arranged,” I say darkly.
“Why in the world would I ever do you any favors? You’re holding me captive! What kind of sick and twisted person would even think it’s okay to ask me to go? I mean, hello! I’m your fucking hostage! Taking me out in public isn’t an ideal scenario.”
“She does have a point,” Dante says. “It is a little weird. She’s not your employee, she’s your ex-girlfriend.”
“Stop saying that! Whose fucking side are you on?” I yell.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know. You show up here with the chick you pined for back in Sicily who claims you beat the shit out of her brother, your former best friend, and kidnapped her. That to me screams a little hard up for some female companionship, but hey, I don’t judge.”
I clench my fists tight, my pulse throbbing against my neck.
“Yeah, why don’t you tell him the whole sordid story?” Marchella seethes. “Let him judge for himself!”
“Salvatore Giaconne and Frankie Amante robbed us last night,” I grunt. “Worked with a crew to ambush us. They got away with five hundo worth of blow.” I jerk my head toward Marchella. “My ex-best friend fucked us up the ass just like his father did to Pop back in Sicily. The grape doesn’t fall far from the vine.” I glare at Dante. “So, yeah, I took her as leverage while Frankie gets our drugs back.”
“Damn,” Dante mutters.
And he doesn’t know the half of it, the rest of the blood staining me from head to toe. The hairs on my arms prickle as I crack my knuckles one finger at a time, a throbbing sensation between my temples making my head ache.
Dante looks at Marchella. “Your brother was always an asshat.”
“S-screw you! Your family is a bunch of scumbag pigs!” Marchella staggers over to the couch and leans against it. “But whatever. So now you have me and I can’t work so I’m just going to s-sink further into debt. I’ll probably lose my job, the only job I could even get after everything hit the fan with Papa…”
She keeps rambling and I don’t know what any of it means, but one thing sticks.
She’s my bargaining chip, yeah. But she didn’t have anything to do with the stunt her brother pulled. And she didn’t have anything to do with what her father pulled years back. She’s been the one to suffer through all of it. I don’t want to fuck her for his bad judgment.
I mean, yeah, I wanna fuck her, but not that way.
I rub the knot forming at the base of my skull. “Just stop talking, okay? You’re giving me more of a goddamn headache right now.” A frustrated sigh slips from my lips. “Dante is right. I should pay you if I want you to come with me.” I can see his eyes widen and he probably thinks I’m off my nut, but I keep going. “I’ll pay you for your lost work time, okay? In return, you come to this event with me.” I walk to the couch. “You be the perfect date and I’ll make sure you have the money you need for your bills.”