“I did.” I pull her keyring out of my pocket and twirl it around my forefinger. “And that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble, doll.”
She grins at me, revealing two deep dimples. “You love it and you know it.”
I smirk and tuck my hands back in my pockets. “Doesn’t mean I won’t make you pay for it.”
I catch the flash of excitement in her eyes before she turns quickly away and heads up the sidewalk to her building. I follow her at a leisurely pace, enjoying the swing of her delicious ass, the toss of that thick brown hair.
We walk up four flights of stairs to get to her rundown place. It’s clean and organized inside—a two bedroom. She heads into one bedroom, I wander over to look in the other. It has a twin bed which hasn’t been made up, and a stack of boxes along the wall. I stroll closer to peek at the boxes.
“What are you doing? Stop.” She snaps from the doorway of the other bedroom.
I give her a “what?” look.
“Just—get out of there.” Her eyes are troubled, mouth set in an unhappy slant.
Hmm. More of her mystery. Who do the boxes belong to? Did someone die? I make a show of shrugging and positioning myself with my back against her front door to wait.
I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Earl Goldfarb, a private investigator we sometimes use for intel. I need you to research a girl—Desiree Lopez. Lives in Humboldt Park.
He replies immediately. Okay. Need me to watch her?
No. She’s with me now. I just want background info on her.
You got it. Priority?
Today. I hit send and shove my phone back in my pocket. I rationalize the intrusion on her privacy as necessary since she’s got shit on me now. I need to know her weak spots. But the truth is I want—need—to know more about Desiree in general. I need to know everything that makes her tick. What causes her pain. What keeps her up at night. I need into that beautiful head of hers.
Through the open door, I watch her moving swiftly around her room, throwing clothes into a small suitcase.
I’ll find out all your secrets, doll. There’s nothing you can hide from me.
Chapter 5
Desiree
Two men arrive late afternoon—more Tacones, judging by the resemblance. Junior seems less than enthusiastic to see them and they’re subdued as they come into Gio’s room, Junior trailing behind them. I wonder if Junior’s decision not to take Gio to a hospital was a controversial one.
I’m in the room, repacking the wound, rolling him to another side and changing out the IV bag. “Hi, boys,” I breeze, like it’s perfectly normal for a nurse to be doing home health care on a gunshot victim.
“This is Desiree,” Junior says. “She was Ma’s nurse after the hip surgery.”
Both men eye me speculatively. “I’m Stefano,” the friendlier looking one says with a Hollywood worthy smile. He holds out his hand, but I spread my gloved fingers and shake my head. Not a good time to shake.
“This is Nico,” Stefano introduces the other man, who just looks at me coolly. He’s as scary as Junior in his own way. All three are handsome as hell, but Junior’s definitely the hottest. He’s at least ten years older, and I find the age on him attractive. The slight graying at the temples and the hard lines on his face make him look more powerful. Seasoned.
“I heard all about you from your mom. You own the big casino in Vegas, right?” It’s where most the Tacone money comes from these days, if I understand correctly.
Stefano nods and they turn their attention to Gio, apparently done with me.
“Hey, Gio. You don’t look so hot,” Stefano says when Gio’s eyes flutter open. He’s been mostly out, which is to be expected. I’m keeping him on a healthy dose of pain meds and a mild sedative.
“Vaffanculo,” Gio mumbles and the two newcomers chuckle. I’m guessing it was some kind of curse.
There’s a charged silence in the room.
“Well?” Junior demands. There’s a defensive note to his voice and now I’m sure there’s conflict over how he handled this. For some reason I feel firmly on his side even though his method involved kidnapping me and making me an accessory to his crimes. It’s not super logical, but I guess I don’t like seeing him on the defensive. Not when I’ve seen how much he cares about his wounded brother. I’m sure his decision is costing him in more gray hairs.
“I’m not stupid enough to offer my opinion without you asking for it.” Nico’s tone is grim.
“Say it,” Junior growls.
“I think Gio looks like he’s in good hands,” Nico says. “But if he takes a turn for the worse, I say take him to the hospital. If the cops come asking, I’ll make sure you have the best fucking lawyer in the country there is.”