Bloodied Hands (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 1)

But I did.

"Do you want to know a little secret?"

"Hmm?" I hummed, exhaustion claiming my calves from the angle and the heels.

"I'll be the last man to take all those things too," he groaned, finding his own climax within me. His hand hit the roof of the car, supporting his weight as he lost his control for that one moment where Matteo ever let go. The one rare moment of vulnerability he only showed when he came. I couldn't see his face, but I felt it all the same.

When he finished, he helped me slide my thong back into place and straighten my dress. Then we went home.

Twenty-One

Ivory

When I'd gotten in the car with Scar, I'd thought we were just going home after letting Sadie work me over at the gym for two hours. She was itching to kick my ass after the scene with Duke, and I couldn't particularly blame her.

I wanted to kick my ass too.

What was wrong with me I couldn't feel chemistry with my admittedly handsome best friend who I knew would do whatever he could to keep me from being hurt?

Ugh.

So, when Scar turned the wrong way and merged onto the highway, I cursed and turned to look at him. He'd tried to convince me to sit in the backseat of the SUV more times than I can count, but I never wanted to feel like I was being chauffeured around. It made me feel like a rich man's mistress, which wasn't far from the truth, but I detested it all the same.

"Where are we going?" I asked him, groaning and flipping my head back into the seat. He didn't answer, just sat there all stony and silent with his eyes on the road. "Did it maybe occur to either of you I don't feel like going to Matteo's? He rarely summons me this early, anyway. What's going on?"

"I think it's best I leave it for him to explain," Scar grunted and the muscles of my body tightened.

"Oh God, is it bad? Did something happen?" More silence. "Whatever," I sighed, trying to calm myself. "He's probably just done with me. Ready to end this bullshit."

Scar snorted out a laugh, and I realized I'd rarely heard the man laugh. Even though I was comfortable with his presence, and I knew he found me amusing, I'd never once made the man laugh.

That was unacceptable.

"I'll miss you; you know. You're always welcome to come over if you need food. I'm good at feeding people, if you couldn't tell. You eat a lot. Who feeds you when you aren't stuck with me?"

He shook his head like I was ridiculous.

Now that he did all the time.

"I'll have plenty of your cooking, Ms. Torres."

Well, that sounded ominous.

I crossed my arms over my chest, watching as the city streets turned to the slightly less urban streets that led to Matteo's estate.

I was a sweaty mess, going to Matteo's where I didn't even have clothes to change into.

The drive passed in stony silence, Scar knowing damn well that I wanted to ask questions, and me knowing he wouldn't answer them. He was a loyal bastard; I'd give him that.

Besides, I had a feeling asking questions about Matteo was a slippery road. I'd taken to the strategy that burying my head in the sand and waiting until he was done with me was the best way to walk away without being completely shattered when it was over. Whatever he did for a living, I didn't want to know.

Nope.

Ostrich I was.

Scar rolled down the window as he pulled up to the gates of the estate, and the guard stepped up to the window. He stood outside, unusual as they normally stayed in their little house until we pulled up.

"Busy day," he muttered to Scar, glancing at me across the car. "Good afternoon, Miss Torres," he smiled politely. It was the same guard who had been working when I'd first naively come traipsing into Matteo's domain. I had since learned his name, after he'd returned from vacation, anyway.