Page 64 of Lourdes & the Mafia
He smirks. “Someone deadly.” His eyes sweep across the men—the mafia—and he smirks. “Someone deadlier than even the Morte brothers of death themselves.”
“Name,” Ramiel whispers.
Leon smirks. “That, I cannot give you.”
From his position by the door, Kane growls and advances. “Like fuck you won’t.”
Leon appears unfazed by this outburst, though. “This is neutral territory,” he says, as if reminding Kane of that. “You will not break your own precious rules. Besides, I cannot give you what I do not have.”
I don’t believe him. He obviously knows something and isn’t saying. But if it’s true and this is neutral territory, then I don’t think there’s anything they can do to make him talk. Which means we’re stuck at square one with no idea who the fuck is after me, unless they can find someone else to inform them then…
I pull my fingers from Lorenzo’s and stand, smoothing my palms across the front of my dress. “I’m parched,” I announce. “I’m going for a drink while you gentlemen… discuss things. Then I think I’ll dance.”
Nobody stops me as I make my way to the door. Kane nearly flinches as I walk past, dodging me before our bodies can graze one another.
I know for a fact I don’t smell like caca, so he’s just an asshole.
Whatever.
I ignore him as I push open the door and step back out into the club. I wonder if they think it’s petulant of me to leave in the middle of that, but I know the gleam in that man’s eye. I know he’s not going to say anything. And I really do need that drink. I need to wrap my head and emotions around the fact that someone is after me and I don’t know who.
I need to loosen up. My palms are sweating and my heart is beating too fast. I never thought I would be involved in a situation like this in the first place and I just want it fucking over. I don’t want to be like Naomi, having to constantly look over my shoulder because of whatever shady enemies my family made in the past.
I make my way down the stairs, my heels clicking on the metal. I feel a presence at my back and stop, turning to find Kane trailing a few steps behind me. I sigh. Right. He’s my bodyguard, and he seems about as fucking happy about it as I am.
I really am going to need a goddamn drink.
I go down to the bar, sitting up on one of the stools. I immediately flag the waitress down, a grumpy-looking woman who comes to lean her palms against the bar and give me the once over.
Really?
Women judging women ain’t fucking cute.
“A margarita,” I say. “Stat.”
She snorts, like something I said was funny. “I’ll need your card to open your tab.”
Well, fuck.
I don’t have shit.
A dark presence looms behind me. The heat of Kane’s body pulses near me, though not touching me. Just enough to tease and make me shiver. “Get her whatever the fuck she wants.”
The waitress visibly pales at the sight of Kane behind me. “Yes, sir, right away, sir.” She moves fast, quickly whipping up my drink and a second one for Kane, placing my margarita and his whiskey side by side. “Anything else?”
Kane growls. “Fuck off.”
She dips her head and does just that. I swivel in my seat, watching him take his place at my side and reach for his whiskey glass.
“That was rude,” I tell him.
“I don’t give a fuck.” He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. In fact, he’s looking everywhere else but at me. I wonder if it’s part of his guard duties to keep a look out or if he really just hates me that much.
I reach for my drink, taking a sip before I regard Kane once more.
Fuck, I hate how attractive he is. Why does it seem like all good-looking guys are assholes? I mean, Lorenzo doesn’t fit into that category. He’s lovely. But Kane? He’s too good-looking and yet too uptight at the same time.
And I guess it’s fucking typical that I’m turned on for a bunch of criminals. Seems pretty on par for me. I mean, Ramiel and Lorenzo make my heart bounce circles inside my chest and my lady bits tingle when they’re near.
