Finally, I managed to shake myself out of my near-catatonic state. I put my finger to my lips and said, “Shhh…”
A smile curled up the corners of his mouth, and then he pulled an invisible zipper across his lips. He made a little gesture with his finger, flicking it between himself and me, and then he cupped his crotch and winked.
I almost giggled but managed to hold it in by pressing my lips together. I shook my head as I smiled. He put his hand over his heart and made a pouty face. As I walked backward toward the staircase, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off him. He strolled down the dark hallway as though he owned it. I was turning to go up just as he reached me, and I gasped and jerked when his hand landed across my ass in a quick, snapping slap.
I whirled around and met dark eyes glittering with both danger and desire.
“Couldn’t resist that ass.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Until we meet again, Miss…”
“Silvestri. Hannah Silvestri.”
He shot a glance down the hall, his brows furrowed. “Fuck me. You’re married to Richie?”
“No, no, no,” I whispered furiously. “He’s my brother.”
His smile widened. “Danny O’Shea.” He took my hand off the bannister and lifted it to his lips. The kiss was sweet and gentle but molten hot, sending rivulets of lava boiling through my veins and down my spine. When he lifted his face, he gave me a wink and gestured up the stairs with a toss of his head. “We’ll save this for another day, Miss Hannah. Beat it before you get in trouble and I end up six feet under.”
He continued down the hall as if he wouldn’t care in the world.
When I came back down to earth with a heavy, almost happy sigh, I found Butch staring at me from the T-junction, a dark thundercloud encircling his huge frame. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could.
Chapter Five: Richie Silvestri
“He gone?” I asked when Butch lumbered back into the office.
“Fuck that guy,” Butch muttered. His ugly mug looked uglier than usual. Danny O’Shea hadn’t impressed him much. “He’s trouble, boss.”
“They’re all trouble, Butchie boy, but you know my motto. Surround yourself with trouble, so you have someone to blame things on when the shit goes south.”
“Not sure about that,” Butch said, glancing at the doorway. “This one might be different.”
“He’s just a guy looking for work,” Archie said.
“There’s no such thing as just a guy looking for work, you fucking pussy,” Butch said.
“Fuck you,” Archie shot back.
“Easy, boys,” I said. “Tell me again, Archie. How’d you meet this guy?”
I rounded on Archie, happy to see he cringed just a bit. It never hurt to remind him who was in charge around here.
I loved the guy like a slow brother, had since I’d pulled him out of a toilet when we were grade school. I still didn’t know why I’d done it. Something about seeing a little kid floundering in shit I guess. My dad hadn’t been the nicest guy, and I’d had my fair share of shit swirlies from that abusive bastard. Pulling Archie up by the collar and wiping the crap off his face, and the vomit off his clothes after he puked, made us brothers of a kind. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and not even the strongest, but he’d always had my back, and I’d always had his. I guess when you knew the world was already out to get you at the age of eight you needed someone in your corner. Archie was in mine. Probably the only one there by choice.
So, I was stuck with him, and most often I didn’t mind it, but sometimes he made my life a lot harder than it should be. Like tonight. The guy didn’t have a fucking brain in his skull, and I didn’t buy for a minute that he’d been hustling pool for money to give his kids. He hadn’t seen those damn kids in eight months. I knew that because I had to send him with a driver out to Arlington Heights when that bitch ex of his had remarried, to a goddamned chiropractor of all things, and moved out of the city.
Archie had been trying to score money for his habit, and that meant trouble because I supplied Archie with exactly the right amount that worked for me.
“Well, Archie?” I settled in my chair and waited.
“I already told you.”
“Tell me again.”
“Like I said, just a guy,” he stuttered. “He did me a solid. Otto could have killed me, Richie. He had me by the fucking neck.”
“No big loss,” Butch said. “You’re as worthless as tits on a bull.”
I cut a glance to Butch to shut him up. He wisely shut his trap.