The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) (16 page)

“Thank you,”
I say, twisting my wrist to angle the lock towards him with a smile. My hand falls free and I slide the blouse onto my arms. “Thank you, thank you—”

Dante snatches my wrist and locks me into the cuff again, tightening it down until the clicking stops.

I drop my smile.
“Dick.”

He winks at me and his eyes shift towards the window as lights shine outside, along with the growing roar of motorcycles. “Stay here.”

“Oh,
ha ha
.” I fasten the buttons of the old blouse with my free hand as he charges down the hall towards the stairwell.

Chapter 15

Dante

I go outside as the two motorcycles park next to my car. My little brother and sister pull their helmets off, almost completely in sync with each other — as they have been since the day they were born. My eyes fall on Elijah’s head and laughter strikes my gut.

“What the hell is that?” I ask.

He stares back at me through long, ash brown bangs. “What the hell is what?”

“It’s called a haircut, man.”

“What?” He flips his head, striking a quick pose on his bike while his hair shifts along his eyes. “You no like?”

“Luckily, I know exactly where Gram kept the scissors.”

“Piss off. I look good.” He gestures to Lilah. “Right?”

Lilah winces through her own blood-red bangs. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to mention…”

“Oh, piss on you both,” he laughs.

Lilah jumps off her bike and rushes at me with open arms. “Hey, big brother,” she says, squeezing my torso so hard my ribs give.

“Shit—”
I force in a painful breath. “You really need to stop working out.”

“Not until I’m stronger than
you
.”

“Getting pretty close.”

She pulls away as Elijah walks over with his own arms wide open. “It’s been almost a year,” he points out. “Come here. We can resume the shit-talk post-hug.”

I chuckle and give him a hug, patting his back while my eyes linger over his thick shoulder at Lilah’s smile. It feels much longer than a year since I’ve seen my siblings. The last I saw Lilah, her hair was its natural shade of brown, just like ours. Now, she’s dyed it a radiant red — a look that definitely suits her personality in more ways than one. Elijah looks the same as always, just a mini version of myself with soft features stolen off his twin’s face. The protector in me always checks their faces for new bruises and scars. Thankfully, neither of them show any.

“You been keeping him out of trouble?” I ask Lilah.

“For the most part,” she mutters, pointing a sideways glance at him.

I pull back to look at him. “What’d you do this time?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Elijah says, firing a quick glance at his twin to shut her up.

I stare him down. “Eli…”

Lilah leans in. “It’s taken care of, Dante.”

“Fine…” I give up. “Did you bring your medkit?”

Elijah looks me up and down. “Yeah, it’s on the bike.”

“Bring it in.”

“You hurt?”

“Not me, no.”

Elijah and Lilah exchange glances, then they each look over my shoulders into the house. “Okay, then,” he says.

I head back inside with Lilah while he jogs back to his bike for the kit. My ears twitch at the sound of metal clanging against iron bars. She must still be really pissed off up there. Can’t say I blame her.

Lilah pauses, her little gray eyes turning upward until falling back on me with accusation.

I sigh. “That’s—”

“Oh, I know what that sound is,” she smirks.

Elijah steps inside with his medkit hanging off his shoulder. “So, what’s—” He stops as his ears train on the same sound and his eyes shift up the stairs.

“Come on,” I say, gesturing them to follow me up.

We head upstairs and the clanging stops as we reach the landing. Lucy stares down the hallway at us, her eyes squinting to make out the unfamiliar faces. We stop in the doorway and Elijah raises an inquisitive brow.

“Hi,” he greets her.

“Hi,”
Lucy replies through her teeth.

“Dante…” He clears his throat. “Why do you have a girl handcuffed to our grandparent’s bed?”

“Because he’s an
asshole
.”

Lilah laughs and leans against the doorway. “I like her already.”

I step into the room. “Lucy, this is my brother, Elijah, and my sister, Lilah.”

She flicks her eyes between them, sharp and narrow. “My condolences to you both.”

Elijah moves around the bed, his trained eyes instantly zeroing in on her knee. “And what did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do this to her,” I defend.

“Not
directly
,” she mutters, holding her vicious stare on me.

“They’re here to help you, Lucy.”

“We are?” Lilah asks.

I glance at her in the doorway.
“Please.”

Elijah leans over to get a closer look while lowering his medkit onto the foot of the bed. “Looks like a blunt object — thin, metal.” His eyes shift towards Lucy. “You were struck twice.”

“You can tell that?” she asks.

“Yes…” He unzips the front pouch on his kit and pulls out a pair of rubber gloves. “The first hit your kneecap straight on, but the second didn’t—” He pulls the gloves on, pausing above her. “May I?”

Lucy shifts awkwardly before giving him a quick nod.

Elijah closes in but he doesn’t touch her. “The second bounced right off your lower thigh
here.
” He points at the black and purple bruise, tracing a line above her kneecap with a steady finger. “Whoever did this was very sloppy. This wasn’t planned. It was a crime of passion, as they say.”

Lucy’s face drops. Elijah waits for her to speak but quickly looks over at me. There’s a tension in the air and we all felt it the second we stepped into the room.

“Lilah—” He snaps his fingers at us. “Ninth grade. You twisted your ankle beating up that the Sullivan kid.”

She grins. “I remember…”

I furrow my brow. “So?”

“Gramps got her crutches,” he continues. “She used them for three days and they’ve been stashed in the garage ever since. Go see if you can find them.”

I look at Lucy. “I don’t—”

“Please?”
He widens his eyes, gesturing silently at me. He’s not going to get anything useful out of her with me lingering over his shoulder but I don’t want to leave her alone.

“I’ll help,” Lilah says, sharing a quick nod with her twin. She tugs at my elbow. “Come on.”

I turn, keeping my eyes on Lucy. We make eye contact for a split second before she looks away again. Darkness grows in my gut but if she doesn’t want to see me, then there’s not much I can do about it right now. “Fine. We’ll be back.”

I walk downstairs quietly with Lilah, hoping to hear what they’re saying upstairs but Elijah is too smart for that. He keeps his voice steady and pleasant, like a suave, young doctor on television. My little brother has always been better at talking to people than I have — especially women, but I always gave Lilah credit for that one. She trained him well.

Lilah plows through the front door and manages to make it down to the grass before exploding. “Who the hell is that?!”

I pause, studying her amused eyes. “She’s a friend.”

“You don’t have
friends
, Dante.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Since
when
?”

I step around her towards the garage and she follows close behind. “I met her in Chicago.”

“Right, I figured,” she says. “Why the hell isn’t she still there?”

“Because she needed my help.” I reach the garage and bend over to grip the handle. I tug at the door but it barely budges off the ground.

Lilah sighs and slides her small fingers next to mine. “Move — you could never get this open.” She brute forces it, pulling it open and sliding it back with little help from me. “So, how long have you been dating?” she asks, wiping her palms on her jeans.

“We aren’t—” I pause. A lungful of dust and mold greet me as I step inside the old garage. “It’s not like that.” I flick on the light switch, happy to see it still gives off enough light to navigate the stacks of old boxes lining the center. “She got into some trouble…”

“Cut the vague crap, Dante,” she bites. “Why did you bring an outsider to
our safe place
?”

“Because it was a better option than leaving her there to die.”

“Still vague.”

“Lilah, I will explain everything later. Will you please just help me find the crutches?”

She stares back at me for several moments, reading everything she needs off my face. “Okay.”

It’s strange being back here. Almost surreal. The last time my siblings and I were here together, we were stacking these boxes. Elijah and me with packing tape. Lilah with a big black marker, labeling each box on the off chance any of us ever came back here someday.
Elijah’s Junk. Dante’s Crap. Lilah’s Treasures.

That was ten years ago, give or take. We tracked down every record of this place and burned it to keep it safe. I’ve honestly forgotten what
crap
I decided was important enough to keep stashed away out here. I supposed that’s part of the job I committed myself to. No attachments. Take only what you need to survive. Who you are isn’t important anymore. The job is all there is. Your squad is all you need.

“I almost forgot about this stuff…” Lilah says, sliding a finger across the top of her own dusty box.

“You read my mind,” I reply. “Not sure I even want to know what’s inside anymore.”

“Could be fun to dig in again. Crack open a six-pack, laugh at our old photos.”

“Maybe.” My eyes linger on the walls around me, stalling so I don’t feel tempted. “Or this stuff was forgotten about for a reason.”

Lilah slides her boxes aside with her foot to get around them. “So, she’s
pissed
at you.”

I bite my cheek but push aside the frustration. “Yes, she is.”

“Does that have to do with her injury or you cuffing her?”

“Both.”

Her brows bounce. “Yikes.”

“There—” I point upward, noticing the horizontal bars hanging on the wall above the side door, covered in dust and spiderwebs. I walk over to pull them down.

“God, I hated these things…” she mutters, her button nose turning upward. “They were great for hitting you guys with, though — fair warning to you.”

I go back to the house while Lilah pulls the door closed behind us.

Chapter 16

Lucy

“Well,
that’s
better,” he says, staring down at me once Dante’s hard boots disappear down the stairs with the mysterious redhead. He holds out his gloved hand to me. “Elijah Hart.”

“Lucy Vaughn,” I whisper, shaking his hand.

“When did this happen to you, Lucy?” he asks, looking back at my knee again.

I chuckle. “You tell me.”

He grins, chewing on his lip. “Couple hours. Five
tops
.”

“Not bad. So, you and Lilah are…?”

“Dante’s twin siblings.” He sifts through his bag again and pulls out a small, zipped-up case. “He didn’t mention us?”

I shrug. “I’ve known him for two days.”

“Ah.”

I watch him as he lays the open case out on the bed. There’s a syringe inside, along with a small vial of purple liquid. “You’re a doctor?”

“Not
exactly
,” he says. “School was never really my thing but I’ve had more practical experience than your average doc and everything else is posted online.”

I stare at him, confused but intrigued nonetheless. He’s younger than Dante by a few years, I’d say. Just as handsome and charming, too. His dark hair falls down over his eyes as he slides the cap off the needle. “So… you’ve done this before?”

Elijah pauses and smiles at me. “You’re in good hands, Lucy. However, I will admit, in our line of work, I have more experience with removing bullets and stitching knife wounds, but blunt force trauma should be a piece of cake…” He pushes the needle into the vial and fills it with the dark purple color. Then he walks to the corner and pulls the stool out from underneath the vanity in the corner to sit down on next to me.