“Who are you working for?” Dante asked as he pulled off his black T-shirt.
I might be in pain from whatever wound was being held together by the white gauze wrapped around my body, strapped to a chair in a torture closet, and facing down three of the most brutal boys in Chicago, but that didn’t stop my body from appreciating the sight before me. Dante was sculpted by the gods. Broad muscular shoulders led to a broad chest covered in those tattoos I knew were hiding under his clothes that tapered down to a chiseled stomach. The boy had abs on top of his abs. The prominent V at his hip bones disappeared beneath the waist of his jeans tempting me in every way possible.
I wanted to lick my way up and down every dip and valley of his abdomen and chest. Damn the boy was a meal, and I suddenly found myself ravenous.
The loud clearing of a throat brought me back to the situation at hand and stopped me from eye fucking the shit out the man who was about to torture me for information.
“Hum? Can you repeat the question?” I wasn’t trying to be funny. I was seriously distracted by the sight he made standing in front of me shirtless with his jeans slung low on his hips.
If he wanted me paying attention to his questions, he should’ve left his shirt on, because all I could focus on was how much my clit was pulsing and my pussy felt empty and in desperate need to be filled by him as he paced back and forth in front of me.
“Who are you working for?” The question pulled a smirk out of me. It was funny he thought I worked for someone. It was also a little insulting.
No matter the outcome of this little powwow, they would leave this tiny room knowing I wasn’t the kind of woman that answered to anyone.
“Me. I work for myself.”
“Really? And Santiago enrolling two of his guys into our school has nothing to do with you?”
I might not appreciate Santiago sticking his head into my business or that I was right in thinking Nico would connect the dots between Angel, Dom, and I. That didn’t mean I was willing to show my hand where the rival mob boss was concerned. There might come a time when I need him for something.
“I don’t have anything to do with your issues and fight with Santiago. I think you forget I’ve only been here for a few months. Whatever you have going on with him, is your problem.”
It was the truth. I didn’t care about the problems between the two families. It didn’t have anything to do with me or the plans I had for Gio.
Shifting in the hard chair, I hissed through my teeth at the pain that sliced through my stomach. It was really starting to bother men that I couldn’t remember what happened.
“Could one of you please tell me what the fuck happened to me? I feel like I was disemboweled.” It was a slight exaggeration, but only slight. I knew how that was done. I’d done it before, and that’s exactly what I felt like. As if someone had taken a knife and split me up the center and pulled all my internal organs out. The thought wasn’t a pleasant one, and a shiver of revulsion wracked my body.
“You don’t remember?” Cole’s questions came in disbelief.
“Of course, I do. I’m just making conversation.” My sarcasm is getting the better of me, but I didn’t really care. I was in pain, uncomfortable, and practically naked. I was ready to go home and sleep for a month.
Also, coffee.
I needed coffee, something fierce.
The pissed off monster that lived just below the surface of my skin was raging. Not that I blamed it. I wasn’t even tempted to try and quiet it down. If it wanted to tear through these boys, I wasn’t going to stop it.
“You were shot.”