“You were the target?”
He nods.
“It was Pérez?” I ask.
“Not personally, obviously. I’m honestly not sure he’s ever actually killed a man. Just gives the orders. Piece of shit.” He swallows a big swallow of whiskey.
“Why did he do it? Who are you to him?”
“He was hired. He didn’t know me from Adam. I need to confirm who it was that hired him.”
“Confirm. So, you know?”
“I have my suspicions.”
I put two and two together. “And the meeting that was allegedly recorded will confirm your suspicion?”
“Not alleged and yes.” His gaze shifts and he’s studying me now. “Betrayal by those closest to you burns hotter, don’t you think?”
“Are we bonding?”
“Fuck you.”
“Where will he be?”
He tilts his head infinitesimally to the side. He’s got the upper hand on this one. He has the information I need. “You’ll need to bring the girl.”
“No.”
“Then you’re wasting my time.”
“Tell me where he’ll be. I’ll be there. I’ll get you what you need.”
“You need to bring the girl. It’s the deal.”
“Why? What deal have you made with him?”
“If I tell him she’ll be there, he will come.”
“So tell him she’ll be there.”
He breathes in a deep breath.
“This is my offer. Tell him what you need to tell him to get him there and I’ll get you what you want.” I put my glass down.
“I held her as she died, you know,” he says, his gaze is on that sheet of paper. That sliver of history. “I know what you’ve seen,” he continues. “What you’ve been through. But let me ask you something. Have you felt the life slip away from someone while you watch? While you cradle their body against you begging the god you once believed in to spare them? To take you instead?”
I clench my teeth and shift my gaze away.
“I can tell you it’s not something you ever want to experience. Never want to see or feel.” He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, the look inside them is different. Like there’s an infinite sadness locked inside there that this memory has unlocked. “Their eyes change as the soul slips from the body, do you know that? The good ones, at least. The innocent ones. You and me, we don’t have souls left to lose but the innocents? You see the light go out.” He picks up the bottle of whiskey and refills his glass then downs the whole thing. “So, if you’re smart, Dante, you’ll be rid of Mara for her own sake. Get her a new identity. Make her disappear. It’s the only chance she’ll have at a life.”
40
Mara
Dante doesn’t come home until after four in the morning. I’ve drifted off to a restless sleep when the crunching of gravel beneath tires wakes me. I push the blanket off, get up and go to the window. By the time I get there he’s inside.
I wait for him but when the clock just keeps ticking and twenty minutes have passed, I pull a robe on over my naked body and walk quietly down the stairs.
I can hear a couple of soldiers in the kitchen, but the study is quiet. The strip of light underneath the door and the sound of music tell me he’s probably inside, so I knock. I don’t get an answer and I wonder if he can hear me, so I push the door open and peek my head in. Dante is sitting in near darkness behind the large oak desk. The only light comes from the dim lamp on his desk. It casts a shadow over half of his face as he lifts it from whatever it is he’s looking at. When he sees it’s me he doesn’t say anything. Just sits back and watches me slip inside and close the door behind me.
I walk around the desk. He picks up the glass of whiskey and swallows what’s left inside. I notice the bottle is nearly empty and can smell the whiskey on him.
“You drink too much,” I tell him as I undo the belt of my robe.
He pushes his seat back a little and takes me in, the robe split open. I watch as his dark gaze slides over me, pausing at the slit of my sex before returning to my eyes.
“You should be in bed,” he says, licking his lips as he leans his head back and watches me kneel between his spread legs. When I reach for his belt, he doesn’t stop me. I undo the buckle, then the button and zipper of his jeans.
“Mara,” he groans but it’s half-hearted.
I take him out and he is already getting hard. I stroke the smooth skin of his cock and bring my tongue to the very tip, lick the salty drop there.
He sucks in a breath and closes his hand over the back of my head. “Fuck.”