Page 41 of The Reluctant Hero

My fake anger becomes absolute rage in a snap.

They came into my space and exposed my humiliation without a second thought. Mafia or not, they’re not leaving here unscathed.

I cross my arms and clear my throat loudly, tapping the magazine on my bicep.

They were so intent on the pictures that their heads snap to me in surprise.

“Get out. Have the pictures for your spank banks. I don’t care. Just get out.”

The scruffy guy’s face twists into a snarl of disgust. “Fuck that. They’ve been sendin’ you this shit too?”

My eyes narrow, and my voice gets colder. I’m kind of proud of it. I could give Matthias a run for his money on hypothermia.

“Get. Out.”

“This isn’t some random piece of information,” Matthias says, his tone matching mine. The distaste in his expression as he tosses the photo back into the drawer surprises me a little. “This is geared toward hurting you personally. Are you sure you don’t know any of these names?”

“Why are you really here?” My eyes narrow as I glance between them. “Bullshit mystery aside, what use am I to you?”

“Not for whatever you’re thinkin’,” scruffy snaps wrathfully. “We got nothin’ to do with any of thisoryour ex until I force-feed him a fuckin’ bullet.”

“Ace,” the guard says quietly with a dark look.

“So you guys are really mafia? Are you planning on taking him out?” I raise a brow in disbelief. “What am I? The patsy? You could have just asked me to be the fall guy.”

All three gape at my casual ease with it. Or at being called out as mafia so blatantly. I don’t care which.

“Darlin’-”

I cut that knee-weakening drawl off before it can get started. “Get out of my apartment. Take all the stupid evidence to plant with you. I’ll even give you the damn magazine for fingerprints. Prison sounds fun. I’ll get three free meals, and I can yell at anyone who looks at me wrong.”

I twist to the side and raise a brow at them. The not-so-subtle hint to get the fuck out gets ignored. They look like they’re planting their feet. I need to up my game.

“Or I could go back to the original plan and use this magazine to beat all three of you to prove I have nothing to do with this,” my lips flatten out with determination, and I start to sound like a scary movie villain as I continue. “Make your choice.”

“Your mouth,” Matthias says in a wondering tone. “Have you considered that it’s writing checks that your ass can’t cash?”

Both guards behind him look at him in surprise. His break in his icy-cold persona must be rare.

“Well, let’s make it a full booklet,” I snap back. My arms drop as my shoulders hunch angrily. My hand shakes as I tighten my grip on the magazine. “This is going to be a really slow death for you, but I’m going to enjoy everysecondof it.”

“We aren’tmafia,” Matthias spits out. “Put the magazine down. Now.”

Not mafia? Scruffy just admitted he wants to shoot Loser. Then again, so do I and I’m not mafia. I’m too pissed to relent in my stance, even if I’m wrong. They might not be who Manny thinks they are, but they violated the one space I had left to hide from reality.

“The only place this magazine is going is down your throat, asshole.”

He takes two angry steps forward and so do I, both of us too mad to back down.

“I have never met someone so disrespectful in all my life.”

“Oh please,” I scoff in his face. “They just don’t do it to your frozen solid face.”

“For good reason,” he intones back with a sneer that questions my intelligence.

“I’m so scared, mafia don,” I tell him in a mocking whine. “Please forgive me! Whatever shall I do? You’re soangry.”

“Darlin’-” Scruffy tries again, and I lean around Matthias to jab the magazine at him. His brows go up at the violent action.

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