I headed back to the house. German was sitting in the living room watching boxing on TV. He grunted as I came in and held up a glass of vodka toward me.
“You and fucking Babin, drinking in the middle of the day,” I said, heading into the kitchen.
“It’s just vodka,” German said, following me. “What’s your problem?”
“The girl didn’t tell us the whole story.” I crossed my arms and paced. “Where’s she at right now?”
“In her room like a sullen teenager. What do you mean, she didn’t tell us everything?”
“Justin stole something important from the Lionettis. Some sort of file or dossier, Babin didn’t know what exactly, but apparently the Lionettis want it badly.”
German grunted and stroked his chin. He needed a shave. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking she knows something. I’m also thinking she’s a serious liability.”
“She always was.”
“But I thought it was because the Lionettis would want to get their money back from her. If something like a dossier or whatever’s involved, that means real trouble.” I stopped pacing and nodded past him. “I need to talk to her.”
“Go right ahead. It’s your house.”
I walked past him and went to the stairs. “Don’t drink all my good stuff.”
“You only have good stuff.” He grinned at me as I headed up to Cara’s room.
I knocked twice then opened the door. She sat on the bed wrapped in blankets and surrounded by pillows. The TV was on, that sitcom Modern Family showing some wacky situation where everyone comes out smiling and happy in the end, but oh, boy, are there some miscommunications along the way. Cara blinked at me then frowned as I turned off the TV.
“We need to talk.” I shut the door behind me.
“I was wondering when you’d show.” She sat up straight. Her clothes were rumpled and she needed a shower, but she still managed to glow with that intoxicating inner beauty that matched her perfect outer appearance. I stepped closer to the bed.
“I talked to a friend. He says your father stole a dossier.” She grimaced and I clenched my jaw. “You know about it, don’t you?”
“I don’t know a thing about a dossier.” She stared at me defiantly.
I walked closer, taking slow, deep breaths. I saw the way she reacted when I mentioned it—there was no doubt in my mind that she knew. But for some reason, she wanted to keep it from me.
Interesting. Maddening, but interesting.
“I think you know something you’re not telling me. Why were you at that bar, Cara? Just to say goodbye to your father? Where was he going?”
“I don’t know,” she said, looking away. She couldn’t meet my gaze. “Leaving town maybe. Or he was convinced he was going to die.”
“Which one is it?”
“I don’t know.” She glared up at me defiantly. I stopped beside the bed.
“I think you’re lying.” I reached out and grabbed the blankets. I ripped them off her and knocked away the pillows. She stared at me with a mix of surprise and anger, and I had a feeling she was about to lash out.
Instead, she closed herself down further, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Why would I lie?” she asked. “Who am I protecting now? My dad’s dead. I have nothing.”
“You have your own life still, and if you want to keep it, you need to start helping me.”
“I don’t know why I would.” She took a deep breath then slowly let it out. “I appreciate you trying to keep me alive but I’m not sure what you want.”
“Just the truth.” I touched her chin and tilted her face up toward me. Her jaw clenched and I thought she might bite me like a cornered animal. Instead, she sat perfectly still. “This isn’t a game, Cara. If your father took something serious from the Lionettis, they want it back, and they’re going to burn down the city to get it. That means me and my crew are in danger, and I can’t have that.”
“Then I’ll leave.” She went to get away.
But I grabbed her hair then pinned her down against the bed.
She stared up at me in surprise and pain. I held her there, my hand on her chest, palm against her breast, my other hand gripping her hair tightly. I pressed her against the headboard and she struggled slightly, but I was easily twice her size, and kept her immobile without much of a struggle. Her skin was soft under my fingers, and I felt my cock stiffening as my fingers grazed against one hard nipple. I could picture her naked there on the bed, smooth porcelain skin glittering in the low light, pussy soaking and begging for me to slid deep inside, but I had a job to do and I needed to keep my mind right.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said softly, moving my lips down inches from her own. I wanted to bite them, taste them, tease her until she moaned against my tongue. “Your father’s dead, but you’re not. Play along with me if you want to keep going that way.”