Tempted by the Sinner

“What happened to her?” I asked.

“She got clingy, started talking about marriage. And then I moved to New York. Sorted itself out.”

I sighed and shook my head. “So you’re an asshole.”

“Darling, what did you expect? A Boy Scout?”

“I guess not.”

“Come on, get yourself settled, and don’t worry about Lynn.”

“What’s she doing now?”

He shrugged and moved toward the door, coming close to me.

“Married, two kids, looks happy. At least as far as I can tell from her shitty Facebook posts.”

“You go on Facebook?” I asked.

“Of course I go on Facebook,” he said. “I couldn’t do my fucking job if I didn’t.”

“What does Facebook have to do with being in the mob?”

He grimaced. “I’m not in the mob, first of all. And second, Facebook is one of the best tools for researching people. Do you have any clue how stupid the average gangster is?”

“So you are a gangster then,” I said.

He stepped closer to me and I took an involuntary step back. I ran up against the doorframe and he loomed over me, his eyes hard, a smile on his lips.

“No,” he said. “But I know a lot of them.”

“So you like to research gangsters then?”

“Got to make sure I’m dealing with the right people,” he said. “More often than not, the wrong people make it pretty obvious. The average person is pretty fucking dumb, and half the world’s stupider than that.”

“Right, true.” I smiled and took a deep breath. “So Facebook’s just one of many tools you gangsters use.”

“Something like that.” He lingered close to me for a few heartbeats, his head cocked like he was staring right through me, except his eyes roamed down my body. I felt a chill run down my spine and I wondered if I was making a huge mistake.

Probably. No, definitely.

“But you’re not a gangster,” I said.

“Right.” He slipped past me and moved out into the hall. “I’ll bring up your bags. Feel free to unpack and get yourself set. Bathroom’s right here, first door on the left, that’s all you. My room’s upstairs, and it’s off limits.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “If I catch you anywhere near my bedroom without my permission, you’re out of here and the deal’s off. Understood?”

“Understood,” I said.

“Good.” He looked away. “Feel free to use the roof deck, though. Damn nice up there.” He headed down the hall and back downstairs.

I stood in the doorway and stared after him.

A gangster with a Facebook and a roof deck.

And a girly as hell room.

What a strange man. I felt a shiver again as I turned to look at the room. The walls were painted a very pale teal color and the hardwood gleamed in the natural light from the large window. I walked over to the bed and sat down on it, surprised at how comfortable the mattress was.

I was in the lion’s den. But the lion’s den had fake flowers and mid-century modern furniture.

I wanted there to be bullet holes in the floor and syringes lying on the kitchen counter. I wanted there to be some proof that I was dealing with a real killer, a real gangster, a real criminal.

Instead, I couldn’t read Vince at all.

I had to keep telling myself I had the right guy. If I was wrong, and Vince really wasn’t in the mafia, then I was going to waste a lot of time following him around.

But if I was right, and this girly room was just another way to throw me off…

Well, it was a risk I had to take.7VinceI sat downstairs and made a few calls while Mona spent the next few hours in her room. I wasn’t sure what she was doing up there, but I never once heard her move around. The hardwood up there in the halls made a damn racket anytime someone tried to walk on them, so there was no sneaking around my house.

Still, it was strange to have someone else in my place. Even if this house was barely mine at all, and only a glorified hotel for when I was in town, it still had some memories. It still felt like my own space.

I’d never had a woman live with me before. That psycho Lynn would’ve moved in and gotten pregnant in a heartbeat, but I kept her at arm’s length. She managed to give that guest room a little makeover, but beyond that, she didn’t succeed in breaking into my life any more than the countless other women I’d been with over the years.

So having Mona upstairs was a pretty confusing fucking proposition. I mean, she was a journalist, she was supposed to be the enemy,

But she was also hot as hell and made my blood boil just thinking about her.

Around seven, I headed up the steps. I told her to be ready by eight, and I wanted to make sure she was on track. I reached the top and saw her bedroom door open at the same moment. She came out with a towel wrapped around her middle, already undressed, a little toiletries bag in one hand, her black bra and matching panties in the other.