Page 1 of Dangerous Games

1

DOMINIC

Isit in my car watching the house. He’s in there with his sister, a union I won’t disrupt for now, so long as he does what I tell him to do. But I won’t wait long. Men like Jimmy Slater have a lot of skills but not a lot of loyalty, and if he tries to turn tail and run, I’ll be in hot water, so I’m forced to sit on his tiny little craftsman home and wait until he’s unoccupied. I’ve done this a few times; each time his sister is here, and God knows what she is trying to tell him or what he’s told her.

The door opens, and the leggy brunette walks out. Her curly hair hangs around her thin, curvy frame. It’s abnormal. She usually has it tied up, but today I get to enjoy her in all her splendor. She stands on the top step looking up at her brother and I admire that ass of hers, perky and tight, like she runs or something. It doesn’t hurt that she is wearing heels and a pair of jeans that are so tight they look like they were painted on.

My cock twitches just looking at her. She is delectable, and I am a hungry man. I’d take a bite of that any time, but right now I can’t be distracted. Not with the issues I’m facing. And Jimmy better come through for me, or maybe I’ll end up finding a way to have my just desserts and a little icing on the cake. Nanette Slater could be just the icing I’m looking for.

She turns, stepping down the stairs, and looks right at my car. I know she can’t see me; the windows are tinted too dark. But she has a scowl on her face. I wonder if Jimmy told her what he was up to, but he is smart. I’ve threatened him enough that he should know better. My business is private, and I don’t usually have to tell people twice. What I’ve hired him to do is even more dangerous than a normal hit, and I’ve selected the best hitman in the city who isn’t part of the family.

When Nanette is more than a block away, I step out of my car and button my coat. The piece conveniently holstered on my right hip is discreet. No one would know it’s there if I don’t tell them. But Jimmy will know. He knows who I am, and what I’m capable of.

The neighborhood is quiet, the sound of a lawnmower in the distance and some birds chirping is all I can hear. Jimmy won’t be expecting me, though he should have something to report at least. The job shouldn’t be taking this long. I gave him access to all my resources—the loyal ones anyway. And he has unlimited funds, courtesy of my credit card. There is no reason for him to be dawdling like this.

I jam my finger into the doorbell button and hear the chime on the other side of the door. Then I fold my hands in front of myself casually and wait. The smell of cat urine wafts up to my nose and I am disgusted. At least he could hose off his porch if he isn’t going to chase the strays away. Jimmy has some poor hygiene habits when it comes to animals.

The door swings open and his face is buried in his phone. “What, Nan? You forget something?” His eyes sweep up to meet my gaze and they go wide. “Oh… Dom, hey, buddy. I’m, uh… I have.”

“Move,” I tell him, stepping across the threshold. He backs into his home frightened—as he well should be. He’s taking too long, and he knows it. “Shut the door.” I walk into his living room and stand directly beneath the light mounted in the center of the ceiling. The old area rug dampens my footsteps across the wood planks, but Jimmy’s stockinged feet make no noise as he moves. A trained killer makes no noise when he moves; that’s how I knew Jimmy was good at the first interview.

“Uh, Dom, I just. I’m sorry. I got delayed and—”

“Shut up.” I look around the room. Everything is as it was the last time I came. He is less than a neat freak, but not a slob—except for the stray cats on the porch. The old home has seen better days though, a problem Jimmy could remedy if he just finished this job. He has a payout coming that’s bigger than he’s ever dreamed. “Tell me what you have.”

His sniveling behavior is repugnant. He talks in circles, spouting things he told me last time. “The money all ties back to an offshore account. The payouts are going to someone named Henry Watts. He’s a man of means, ex-military. I’m not sure—”

“Cut the crap, Jimmy.” My voice startles him, and he jumps. By now he’s got to have uncovered the truth about my identity. I never tried to hide it; I just didn’t announce it before he accepted the job because men like him don’t tend to get in bed with my type. At least not on their own accord.

“Dom, please, you have to understand that if I knew you were Bratva I’d have turned this job down. I’m not capable of this.” He shoves his phone in his pocket and shakes his head, and it stirs my temper. He does not want to stir my temper.

“What did you say, Jimmy? I think you said you weren’t going to do what you told me you’d do. Now if I remember correctly, I gave you some pretty nice compensation already. Access to every bit of intel I have. Unlimited funds. The power to even hurt me. And now you’re backing out?” I take a step toward him, and he cowers, holding his hands up in a defensive posture.

“Dom, please. It doesn’t have to go down this way, okay? I swear I won’t tell a soul.” He shakes his head as he backs into the wall and I advance on him slowly, a monster hunting his prey.

“You know that’s not how this works, Jimmy. You are a smart man. You should have figured this out already.” I unbutton my coat and pull out my Smith and Wesson and Jimmy literally whimpers. What a fucking coward. He calls himself a hitman? “Now, you are supposed to produce results for me. I need to know who hired the hit, and who is doing the hit. You have three days to figure this out, or you’re not going to like me at all.”

“Dom, woah,” he says, his voice quavering. “Look, buddy, I’m not that good. At best I need two weeks, but this is tricky shit. I can’t just tell you anything; I have to have the truth. That’s what you want, right? Facts?”

I chamber a round and lean in so I know he hears me when I say, “Three days, Slater.”

“That’s insane. I can’t do the—”

The gun goes off right next to his ear, firing a round through the wall and launching it into the wall on the other side of the adjoining kitchen. No doubt he’ll find a hole in his siding out the back of the house. He winces, covering his ear and shouting. “Three days, Jimmy, or maybe we have a talk about writing your will.”

“Fuck, what’d you do that for?”

“Consider it a friendly reminder that you are mine. You’re on my payroll, which makes you just as guilty as me. You want to back out; well, I clean up all my mess. I don’t leave loose ends hanging.”

“God, Dominic, you have to understand I have a family too. I can’t get wrapped up in this mess. I want a good life.” He’s busy rubbing his ringing ear when I bring the butt of my gun down hard on his shoulder, and he drops to his knees.

“Your family will appreciate that you are a hard-working man the instant you finish this job and give me what I want. You should have done your homework before accepting the job. Now you have three days to finish it, or—”

“I know, I know!” he shouts, which is the wrong move. My foot connects to his gut and he curls into a ball.

With my message sent, I slip out the front door as if nothing happened, and stroll to my car. At least it’s a pleasant day. The sun is shining, and I have other business to tend to. So, when I climb into my car I head straight back to the office—my little slice of heaven in the back of the bookstore. I can’t help but let my eyes linger on Nanette’s ass as I pass her, now several blocks away and still walking. It sparks an idea in my mind of absconding with her and having my way in the back of my car, but business comes first.

I pull up to the bookstore and park in my usual spot. The boys are waiting for me; I’m certain of it. I was due in an hour ago, but Nanette took such a long time doing whatever it was with Jimmy that I had no choice. The instant I walk in I’m bombarded by questions. These guys are worse than a pack of yapping chihuahuas.

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