The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) (17 page)

I keep still, watching him grab the needle again while my pulse spikes in my chest. I’ve never liked needles… or anything
sharp
for that matter. “What line of work is that? Snake Eyes?” His eyes twitch up at me. “Dante told me some things…”

“You’ve known him for two days and he told you about Snake Eyes?” I nod, watching his face carefully. Bewilderment crosses his features. “Yes,” he answers my question. “I work for Snake Eyes.”

“Lilah, too?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

He chuckles. “Don’t let her hear the surprise in your tone,” he warns me. “It pisses her off when people don’t think she can do her job. My sister may be small but she’s very,
very
scary. In fact — she’s one of the best agents they have…” He shrugs. “Or
had.
I suppose we’re all unemployed now.”

I twitch, torn by fear and curiosity. “Cool,” I say.

He shows me the needle. “I want to inject you with this. It’ll numb your leg so I can take a better look at your knee.”

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Just a very mild anesthetic… commonly used on… large animals…”

“It’s a horse tranquilizer?”

He smiles. “It’s a horse tranquilizer — but my own special serum with none of those wacky Ketamine side effects. It’ll keep you lucid. I need you to talk to me while I inspect the damage, okay?”

I squeeze the bedspread, staring at the large needle with nervous apprehension. “Okay…”

“You won’t feel a thing unless I want you to.” His voice rolls down my back, soothing and confident. “I promise.”

I look at his hand, solid as a rock. He definitely has experience and I doubt Dante would have left us alone if he didn’t trust him. “Go ahead,” I say, trying desperately to keep my voice from shaking.

“I’ll inject you four times—”

“Four?!”
I jerk away, clanking my cuff against the bed.

Elijah holds up a firm hand. “One on each side of your knee,” he says, keeping his grin. “But like I said, you won’t feel a thing.” I fidget against the iron bed frame, digging my nails into my palms. “Here — close your eyes. Count to ten and I’ll be done.”

I do as he asks and shut my eyes. His hand grazes my knee but no pain shoots up my leg. A burst of warmth surrounds my kneecap, almost like my leg swallowed a gulp of delicious hot chocolate on a snowy day.

I crack open one eye and I see him slide the needle out of my skin and shift it sideways to inject the front side. “Whoa…”

He keeps moving, pushing the needle in and shooting me up on all sides until it’s empty. “All done.” He sets the needle down and looks at me. “How was that?”

“I didn’t feel a thing…” I say, staring at my knee.
“Anything.”

“I said you wouldn’t. I inherited the healing touch. Lilah…
not so much.
” He sits back in the chair, smiling. “Sit tight. It takes a few minutes to kick in.”

“It feels warm.”

“Good.” He pauses, his eyes looking me up and down. “So, how do you know my big brother?”

I lie back against the headboard. “He was sent to kill my father.”

His eyebrows bounce. “Did he?”

“No…” My mind flashes back to that stage. “No, he didn’t.”

“Dante is sent to kill your dad… and you end up cuffed to a bed out here. How does that happen in just two days?”

“I’ll be sure to let you know once I’ve processed it…”

Elijah leans over and touches my knee with two fingers. A bolt of dull pain teases my skin. “Feel that?”

“Yeah
,” I say, wincing.

He sits back. “So, why are you cuffed? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I… tried to steal his car.”

“Are you here against your will?” he asks. “Because I can get Lilah to kick his ass for you…”

I shake my head. “No, I guess I’m not. He…
saved
me, technically.”

“From who?”

I close my eyes, fighting the tears just begging to come out. “From the men that
did
kill my father.”

“You must have made quite the impression on him then,” he notes. “It’s pretty unprecedented for my brother to give a crap about anybody. Except us, of course.”

“I guess you could say I did.”

Elijah chews on his lip, staring at me with fascination before turning his attentions to my knee again. He taps it twice with his knuckle. “Feel that?”

I glance at it and he touches me again. “No.”

He pinches my kneecap between two fingers. “Not this?”

A chuckle escapes me. “Nope.”

“Good.” He slides the stool inward, drawing as close to the bed as he can. “Let’s see if we can’t get this cleaned up…”

I watch him work, his hands wiping my blood away with moist pads from his kit. I expect pain at any moment but the drug works magic on me. No pain, no pressure. It’s like I’m standing over his shoulder, staring down at some other girl’s busted knee. I chew on my tongue, begging to ask the question that’s been plaguing me since the moment it happened.

“How bad is it?” I finally ask.

“Well…” He feels the bone with his fingertips, shifting the cap around in my skin. “It could be much worse.”

“That doesn’t sound very good.”

“It’s not bad, though. Here…” He reaches for my hand and pulls me closer, setting my fingertips down on my knee. “You feel that?”

I slide my fingertips over my knee, feeling the jagged line marking the top of it. “Yes…”

“It is broken — but it’s secure.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means no surgery, for one,” he says. “Just a cast — preferably — and lots of downtime.”

“For how long?”

“A month or two?” he says. “Maybe more before you can start bending it again and then loads of physical therapy after that. It’s hard to say whether or not you’ll regain full mobility and I can’t tell much without a proper x-ray…” His voice trails off and I feel his eyes on my face.

I bite my inner cheek, holding back tears. With everything I’ve lost in the last few hours, I didn’t want to add my ability to dance to that list. My whole life, my body has been the only thing I could count on — the only thing I could control and shape and understand—

“Lucy, what are you?” Elijah asks me.

I let a single tear fall down but I brush it away quickly. “I’m a ballet dancer.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He inhales slowly. “Hey — with your age and experience, who knows, eh? I’m not even a
real
doctor.”

I laugh. “No offense, Elijah, but you don’t seem
anything
like your brother.”

“Oh, believe me, Lucy — I’ve always taken that as the greatest of compliments.” The front door opens downstairs and he turns towards the hall. “I’ll be right back. I need to take a look around for something I can craft a splint out of for you.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

He pats my hand before standing up, a kind gesture that he makes seem more sincere than anyone else could.

I make it until he’s halfway down the stairs.

Then, I start sobbing.

Chapter 17

Dante

“Wow…” Elijah murmurs as he steps into the dining room.

I look up from the filthy crutches laid out on the table. “In the garage — just like you said. Will probably take a few wipes to get the shit off but they seem fine otherwise.”

Lilah hands me a wet rag and takes the seat next to me. “What’s she like?” she asks Elijah with wide eyes.

“She’s nice…”

“And…?” She grabs her own cloth and snatches one of the crutches off the table to wipe it clean.

“And…” Elijah drags out the nearest chair and sits down across from us, his eyes burrowing a hole in my skull. “She’s a ballet dancer. Just like Mom.”

I feel Lilah tense up beside me. “Don’t read into that—”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

I meet his burning, judgmental eyes. “I’m cleaning the crutches.”

“You know what I mean, Dante. What’s your game with her?”

“My
game
?”

“What’s going on with her?”

“Nothing is going on, Elijah,” I say, wiping the dirty pole clean. “She needed my help. I brought her here.”

“And you immediately tied her up?”

“She tried to take off back to Chicago.”

“So, what?”

I sigh and toss the cloth down on the table. “Did she tell you who did this to her?”

“No, but she seemed to know an awful lot about Snake Eyes, which is a
serious
breach of protocol—”

Lilah’s jaw drops in anger. “You told her about us?”

“With Snake Eyes gone, there is no protocol anymore,” I argue.

Elijah blinks and his eyes fall on Lilah. “Well, okay then.”

“Eli, don’t you dare touch her—” I turn to Lilah.
“Either of you.”

Lilah looks away from me, her eyes locking on Elijah’s and he throws up his hands. “We’re not threatening anyone here, Dante,” he says.

“But…”
she adds, pausing. “This whole situation is a tad bit
uncharacteristic
for you.”

I pick up the cloth again. “Things change.”

Elijah sits back and runs an impatient hand through his thick hair. “Who bashed in her knee?”

“Marty Zappia,” I answer.

“Never heard of him.”

“He’s the youngest of the crime family,” I explain. “Got it in his head that he knows more than his daddy does and wants to take over the business by force.”

“He wants to overthrow his own people?” Lilah asks. “That never ends well.”

“That’s what he told me before I shot him.”

She chuckles. “Why’d you do that?”

“He asked me to join him.” I fold the cloth over to the cleaner side. “I declined.”

Elijah points up. “That doesn’t explain the beautiful ballerina upstairs in need of a career change.”

“The news broke out about Snake Eyes and they figured out who I was pretty quickly.” I grip the crutch tighter to scrub off a stubborn bit of grime. “Marty survived the bullet and went after her to find me.”

“Why
her
, though?” Lilah asks, her voice pushing me to come clean.

“Because…” I sigh. “Lucy and I had been seen in public together.”

She smiles. “On a date?”

I ignore her. “He killed everyone at the ballet academy including her father, beat her up, and burned down the theater with her still inside.”

“Shit…” Elijah mutters, flinching slightly. “And here I thought
I
knew what a bad day felt like.”

“She wants payback.”

“She deserves it,” Lilah notes, leaning her clean crutch against the table.

“I ain’t arguing against it but running back there right now is suicide and I…” My tongue swells. “I don’t want that to happen to her.”

Elijah stares at me across the table, his lips twitching on his face. “Well, isn’t that something?”

“What?”

“Big brother cares about someone other than us. I must admit — I’m a little jealous.”

“Me, too,” Lilah jokes. I look down and focus on the crutch. “Is this serious?” she asks.

“Lilah…”

“I’m just curious,” she laughs.

“You’ve known her for two whole days, according to her,” Elijah says.

Lilah gasps.
“Two days?”

I look at her to find her smiling back at me. “I know, but… it doesn’t feel that way.” I pause, unable to believe my own words.

“I’m happy for you, man,” Elijah says, beaming.

“Well, don’t get too attached to her,” I say. “Lucy’s not exactly happy with me right now.”

“Then go talk to her.”

I shake my head. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Lilah rolls her eyes at me. “Dante, she just lost everything. She
needs
to talk to somebody.” She leans in closer. “You think that
maybe
you can possibly relate to that?”

They both stare at me with purpose, silently reminding me of the day we all agreed never to talk about again.

I look up, my eyes swiping the ceiling before falling on Elijah. “Is it that bad?”

He sighs, hesitating his words. “It could be worse, but… yeah. She’s got a long road ahead and it’s not the kind she’ll want to travel alone. I mean… if you weren’t up for it, then why did you save her at all?”

I wipe the last bit of dust off and stand up. Lilah silently holds her crutch over her head and passes it off to me as I walk out of the living room towards the stairs.

There’s silence as I climb them. I guess Lucy got tired of straining her wrist.

She sits on the bed with her head down. Her hands wipe her face once she notices I’m there, obviously drying the wet tears from her puffy eyes. “Kind of useless, don’t you think?” she asks, staring at the crutches. “I can’t walk if I can’t leave the damn bed.”

I lean them against the wall by the door before closing it behind me. A bit of confusion crosses her eyes but she says nothing more as I walk over and sit beside her on her left side. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“Why do you care?” she spits.

I lean closer. “Lucy…”

“No,”
she says. “No, I am objectively not okay. Probably never will be again—”