Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

He smiled. “I’ll help you out of it.”

I sighed and shut my eyes, my shoulders slumping. “You’re impossible.”

“For God’s sake, Tiny, you’re more fun when you’re mad at me.”

My eyes snapped open and my voice took on a hard edge. “You want me to get mad? Now there’s something that could be arranged.”

“Ah. There she is.” He straightened his coat. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait. I can’t let you leave until your father arrives and some kind of agreement is reached, or my father will have my head.” He was so cool about it, as if last night hadn’t happened at all.

“You once said our fathers’ business had nothing to do with us.”

“Yes. I believe that was before you sold Sam Scarfone the hearses which he then used to hijack a very large, very pricey, shipment of mine.”

“I told you, I didn’t know what he was—”

“Shhh.” He reached for me again. Wrapping one arm around my back, he brushed my tangled hair back from my face. “Things are what they are between us, Tiny,” he whispered, digging his fingers into my waist. “But let’s not tarnish them with more lies.”

My lower lip quivered. His eyes were black as night and his expression was tight—whether he was controlling his rage or his passion, I couldn’t tell. I said nothing as he traced my lips with one finger.

“I believe this affair could be mutually beneficial,” he went on, “but in order for that to happen, you and I are going to have to trust each other a little bit. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” My voice cracked on the word.

“So tell me the truth.” The arm around me tightened further, bowing my back. “Did you know Scarfone was planning the heist?” He rubbed one finger back and forth across my lower lip.

Suddenly I was tired of lying about what I’d done. There hadn’t been a choice. I looked him in the eye and lifted my chin. “I did what I had to do to protect my family.”

His brow twitc

hed, as if he were surprised I had admitted it. “Yes, you did. I like that about you.” His finger slipped inside my mouth, and without thinking I ran the tip of my tongue across it. He smiled. “You have a talent for deception, Tiny. And I’m glad, because you’re going to need it. This is only the beginning.”

He removed his finger and put his lips on mine again, more insistent this time, his tongue slashing into my mouth. Despite my earlier decision not to give in, I craved the pleasure and pain our bodies could bring to one another, and I wanted the powerful abandon I felt making him lose control. When the kiss grew reckless, I struggled to get my arms free and reached for the buttons on his coat.

He shocked me by grabbing my shoulders and setting me at arm’s length from him.

“What?”

After a moment, he said, “You can go.”

“Huh?”

“You can go home.” He lowered his arms and adjusted his collar. “I’ll have my driver come for you in ten minutes.”

I stuck my hands on my hips, tempted to slap him again. “I hate your games.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “How much do you owe him?”

“Who?”

“Your friend. Lupo. How much did he give you to pay my father off?”

My jaw tightened. Something about this scene was too familiar. “None of your business.”

“Goddammit, Tiny.” He pointed a finger at me. “You’re not to owe him anything—not money, not information, not favors. This is part of our deal, now tell me what he gave you.”

I had to think about it, Joey had given me so much. “Fifty-six hundred.”

“Fine.” He counted some bills in his wallet—five one-thousand dollar bills and six hundreds—then held them out.