“For all the kissing you’re doing lately.”
I stuff the chapstick in my back pocket and blow Quinn a kiss. I head for the exit, placing myself ahead of the customer also leaving the bar. I’m effectively putting a barrier between myself and Dante. With any luck, he’ll have to wait until I’m in the street to try anything.
I shoot Jude a look before I take to the stairs. He’s around the other side of the bar. The look says ‘stay, don’t you dare fucking follow me.’ I doubt he’ll comply.I just hope Dante doesn’t kill him before I do.
Outside,dawn looks to be rearing its pretty head. I walk fast but not fast enough. Dante is upon me in seconds. There’s a feel of the barrel of a gun at my back, and his presence is unmistakable.
He smells of cleaning fluid and gun oil. Fresh from a job then.
“Don’t try to run or make a sound. I won’t hesitate to pull this trigger.”
“Don’t lie,” I scoff. “If you could kill me, you would have done it already.” I don’t know why Dante hasn’t tried to kill me yet. There will be a reason. Not a reason I care to find out, but still something I could use. I wouldn’t have come here if I thought there was any chance Dante would shoot me on sight. I like to take risks but I’m not stupid.
“Keep walking or I’ll ask your girlfriend to join us. I told her if she played her part, I’d let her live. I might very easily change my mind.”
“Where are we going?”
“Straight ahead. In there.” He steers me to a boarded-up building at the end of the alleyway. One of the boards across the door is hanging loose. Adrenaline surges and wakes me the fuck up. Of course, Dante could kill me. He’s exactly like me. He doesn’t do sentiment. He just doesn’t want to get caught. Killing me outside a bar—even if we are in a black spot on this side of the street—would be the worst thing for him when he’s worked so hard to stay hidden. Any punter could walk out the door.
Like Jude.
The thought of Jude coming outside and interfering—that and Dante killing Quinn—has me complying with my mentor’s wishes and entering the shell of the building without a backward glance. I’m not planning on getting caught anytime soon either, so the building serves as a way for me to do what I want without being seen too. Glad it works both ways.
Dante ushers me through the loose board. Inside is dark and musty. This place has been empty for a while. History aside, he spins and shoves me against the dirty plasterboard, hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs.
I look up, keeping my gaze steady and calm.
Cold blue eyes level with mine.
He looks me up and down, gun point-blank.
“You disappoint me, V. I taught you better than this.”
Fight him for the gun? Distract him and make a run for it? None of those options appeal very much. I’ve let myself be caught in the worst position, but my gut says differently. This is Dante. If nothing else, he’s invested time and effort into training me. That and I always follow my gut.
I stare back at him. “Cut the crap. I knew you’d be here tonight. I wanted to talk.”
Unreadable, unmoving, he blinks. “Is that right?”
I fold my arms, lifting my chin, giving the gun not a second glance. “Polina is busy with other things than finding little old me, so why the hell are you still following me?”
“Not all my orders come from Polina,” he says, cryptically.
“Who then?”
“That’s not important.”
“Like fuck it isn’t. Don’t mess with me. I’m not in the mood.”
“Abstaining too much?”
Fucker. He was listening. I let the annoyance show in my face. His eyes remain dead and empty but the corner of his mouth twitches.
Just like old times.
Except there was never a gun pointed in my face before.
I raise a brow. “Jealous?”