Page 65 of Carnal Urges
“Fuck you!”
“No, thanks. Back to Sloane.”
He seethes for a while, debating whether to scream more obscenities at me or obey.
“I won’t talk to you about her.”
I remove my gun from my waistband, lean forward, and shove it against his kneecap. “How about now?”
He’s sweating. The veins in his neck stand out. He licks his lips nervously, takes a breath, then shakes his head.
His courage surprises me. Deeply. After twenty years in the syndicate, I’m rarely surprised. “You’d give up your boss for nothing, but you won’t talk to me about a woman you’re not even with anymore?”
“Not for nothing. For her. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
He’s so frightened, he’s almost shitting himself. But he’s also defiant. Willing to get his kneecap blown off to defend her honor.
Goddammit. Irefuseto like this kid.
I lean closer and shove the gun into his crotch. He emits a small cry of terror.
“Let’s try this again. What is it you love so much about her?”
He spends a few moments hyperventilating and convulsively swallowing the excess saliva in his mouth. I give him some leeway to pull himself together and wait calmly until he manages to speak.
“S-she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
Fuck. I was hoping he’d say something shallow about her body so I could shoot his dick off. I say drily, “She agrees with you. What else?”
“She isn’t afraid of anything. She’s thoughtful and kind. And funny. You don’t expect a girl so hot to be funny, but she is.”
“Butirritating,though, right? Didn’t she irritate you something brutal?”
He looks appalled by the suggestion. “No. She’s not irritating. She’s a goddess.”
I’m beginning to see why Sloane got bored of him. His earnestness is tiresome. This kid is as dry as unbuttered toast. She’s so far above his head, they’re not even in the same atmosphere.
I shove the gun back into my waistband and consider him.
Apparently, he thinks I’m plotting his murder. He turns a shade paler and starts to shake.
“I’m not going to kill you, Stavros.”
“You’re not?”
“No. It would be too depressing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s because life hasn’t sucked all the joy out of you yet.” I stand and start to pace in front of the chair. “But I can’t let you go, either. Not only did you have the extremely stupid idea to try to shoot your way into my building with your pathetic rescue attempt, you also shot two of my men at La Cantina in Tahoe.”
“I’ve never shot anyone.”
I stop short and look at him.
“I haven’t. Unless you count fish.”
“So those two men killed themselves?”
