These Vicious Games (Seattle Undeground)

Chapter 11

I can still smell her on my fingers.

Which is why I’m in no fucking mood to deal with anyone at the moment. Not even her. Which is why I sent her back to the penthouse instead of showing her why I’m Seattle’s Beast.

I may slam Andrea’s door to his office too fucking hard. His security may or may not have their hands on the side of their hips, ready to blow my head off at their Don’s command. Luca the underboss and doctor looks up from his chair, smiling. And there’s Jameson, the man in charge of bailing the La Mafia Sotterranea di Seattle out. I see these fuckers once a month for poker night in my underground ring, but this is an unexpected call. Sure, I do work for Andrea from time to time, but not in the middle of the fucking night. It must be important for him to bring me in so late.

Andrea and I were both nineteen when we met. His old man had just been shot down crowning him the Don of Seattle Sotterranea. Seattle’s Underground Mafia. I didn’t know it then, but he was watching me as I gutted a man in an abandoned warehouse I stumbled upon. Trust me, the man had it coming, but I will not get into those details at this moment. Andrea walked out, hands in his slacks, a grin on his face, offering me a job as his fixer. I did that for some time before I decided someone ruling over me was never going to work out. Luckily, he let me leave but only once he burned a brand into my skin, ensuring I would come if he ever needed me. Somehow, we developed as close of a friendship men like us could have in our line of work.

“I don’t have time to torture tonight,” I say, sitting down in the vacant chair.

“Too busy with your pretty prisoner?” Luca says, but shuts up quickly when I glare at him.

Jameson, who is always quiet, raises a questioning eyebrow. “As your lawyer, Atticus, is this something I should be worried about?”

“No.” I clip out, rubbing my aching jaw.

“No killing tonight. I called you to tell you someone called in a hit for you.”

I look at Andrea, amusement tugging at my lips. “A hit on me? What did you say?”

He inhales his cigar, smirking. “For the right price, I’d take anyone out.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Who was it?”

He clicks his tongue. “Didn’t give me a name. But I reversed the call, does the name Joseph ring a bell?”

“That motherfucker.” I hiss under my breath.

“Oh, good. You know him.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “I kidnapped his fiancée and cut his finger off.”

“Can’t figure out why he’d want you dead.” Luca murmurs.

“This fiancée.. is she?” Andrea asks, knowing my history far too well.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“If that’s all.” I stand.

“See you in two weeks.”

A moody piano tune hits my ears as I step out of the elevator, causing me to haltat the familiar sight.

Past

Blonde hair falls over her shoulder as she hunches over the piano. That’s all she seems to do these days. Cut her wrist and play the piano as the blood splashes on the keys. I want to shake her, ask her if she realizes what I sacrificed so she could be safe? What I’ve endured while she mopes around life. Ungrateful brat.

I watch the blood drip from her wrist.

Drip.

Drip.

On the keys as her fingers smear through the blood. It’s like she’s lost to the music. Hell, maybe she is. From what I’ve gathered, she remembers nothing. Which is for the best but it doesn’t explain why she’s so sad.

I shouldn’t care. I should walk away. And I do, but I stop, growling as I reach into my glove box, grabbing a crumpled receipt and writing a note to her aunt and uncle. Maybe they can get her some help.

I leave it in their mailbox, casting one last glance at her window to find her watching me. Her head tilted slightly as if trying to read me.

I don’t give her a second chance as I get in my car and drive away.