The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) (24 page)

I point my gun at his foot and fire off a single round, shooting him through his toes. Enzo doubles over but I spread my fingers over his neck and squeeze as I force his head back against the wall. “I said keep walking.”

His face contorts as pain travels up his leg but he does as he’s told and pushes off the wall, limping towards a grimy shelf in the corner. “Here—” he says, pausing to lean against the wall. “Behind the shelf, it’s a false wall.”

Lilah steps forward and pulls the shelf out of the way.

“Open it,” I tell Enzo.

He hobbles closer to it, leaving a bright trail of blood behind him, and pushes against it. The wall gives and slides open, revealing a dark tunnel lit up only by a string of old lights, clearly left over from the Prohibition Era. “This leads up to my father’s office… there’s a secret exit in his closet.”

I wait. “After you.”

“Come on, man…” he begs. “They find out I took you this far and I’m a dead man.”

“You either risk it or you die
here
. Make your choice.”

“Ugh…” He limps along with his head down and we follow him through the old tunnel several paces behind.

Lilah leans in close to me. “Going a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Coming from you?”

Elijah holds up his hand to curb the rage beneath Lilah’s stare. “
Hey
— it’s a fair comment, Dante. You’re not thinking straight here.”

I look between the two of them. They have every right to be concerned. I don’t exactly feel like myself tonight but I can’t get Lucy’s screaming voice out of my head. She’s still there now — angry and cursing my name in the very bed I take her in every night and it’s tearing me apart. “She deserves closure,” I say.

“Okay, yeah,” Lilah says, “but make sure you live long enough to go home and tell her about it.”

I can’t picture it. I don’t even want to. I don’t want to imagine what look she’ll have on her face when I walk up those stairs and tell her the man she’s been dreaming about killing with her own hands for months is dead and I did it for her. Will she be happy? Relieved? Grateful? Maybe someday but not tonight.

I’ll probably sleep on the couch this week.

Enzo stops at the end of the hall and juts his chin upward. “Here you are,” he says, gesturing to the staircase. “The door code is 2398. You folks have a good night.” I grab his shoulder, stopping him from spinning around and walking back the way we came and he heaves another sigh before gripping the railing and pulling himself up the stairs.

He opens the door and I take in the unfamiliar angle of Antony Zappia’s office closet. I instantly sense someone on the other side; an old man’s hands sifting through paperwork. A standard Friday night for cranky, old Zappia.

I dig my gun into Enzo’s hip. “Announce that it’s you,” I whisper.

“Hey, Pops,” he says. “It’s me.”

“Enzo?”

The closet swings open and Zappia falls back. “Hart?!”

I shove Enzo inside and point my pistol at the old man’s face. “Sit down.”

Zappia raises his hands in surrender while Enzo shimmies over and plops down on the seat in front of the desk. His wrinkled eyes shift between myself and my siblings, his pupils growing wider with each glance. “What the hell are you doing—”

“I’m not here for you, Mr. Zappia,” I tell him.

“He’s here for
Marty
,” Enzo pipes in while he gently raises his bloody foot.

Zappia lowers his hands and blows out his breath. “Yeah, I figured you would be someday…” He walks over to his desk and sits down before the dull light of his security monitors while the rest of us take our places. Elijah plants himself in front of the office door, Lilah lingers by the closet, and I stay above Enzo’s shoulder to keep an eye on both Zappias. A man at every exit. Basic Snake Eyes training bleeding through.

I gesture at Zappia’s hands. “Keep them above the desk,” I tell him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He lays his palms flat on top. “When I heard about what he did to your girl, Hart, I wasn’t happy.”

“Neither was I.”

“But I
understood
it,” he adds. “If I were in his position, I probably would have done the same. I mean… you
really
fucked up his face.”

“He drew first.”

“And with this
Snake Eyes
shit?” he scoffs. “We didn’t know what to think. All we knew for sure was her—”

“So you sent Marty to kill her.”

“I sent Marty to ask her questions!” he corrects. “The next thing I know there are over a dozen dead bodies on the news and Marty’s laughing like a damn madman.”

I grit my teeth. I’ve killed a lot of people in my life but I’ve never once laughed about it. Maybe tonight I’ll make an exception. “I just want him, Mr. Zappia. My quarrel isn’t with you.”

Enzo hisses. “Tell that to my damn foot!”

“Hart…” Zappia shakes his head. “He’s my son.”

“I understand your loyalty,” I say. “However, I think you’ll find that loyalty is a bit one-sided.”

He furrows his brow at me. “What?”

“That morning, Marty came knocking on my door. He told me that he wanted to take over the family — that you were a thug like your father and his father before him.”

“You’re lying—”

“He ordered the hit on the restaurant. When it failed, he asked me to kill you. I said no.”

Zappia pauses and his eyes drift over to Enzo. They share a look of apprehension and doubt. “You got proof?”

“My word only,” I say. “I understand your hesitation, Mr. Zappia. He is your son. But if you ask me, I’ll be doing you a favor.”

He leans back in his chair and gives his beard a quick, dry rub. This doesn’t seem at all surprising to him meaning he’s already suspected it of young, ambitious Marty. The black sheep of the Zappia clan.

“If I can confirm this…” he begins, “then I’ll take care of it
myself
.”

It could mean a thousand different things but the only thing it doesn’t mean is that I get to pull the trigger. “I’m sure you can imagine that confirming his death is very important to me, Mr. Zappia.”

“If that happens, I’ll be sure to drop you a postcard,” he snides. “But this is my family and we have our ways of dealing with this.”

“Not good enough.” I keep my calm. “I didn’t come here to negotiate his life. I came here to put a bullet between his eyes, just like he did to Terrance Vaughn, and I’m not leaving here until I do. It’s up to you whether or not the rest of you go down with him.”

He fidgets back and forth and his chair squeaks beneath him. I see his eyes drop to his desk, no doubt searching for some sort of weapon to take us on with. There’s nothing worth using and he knows that if I don’t shoot him first, Lilah or Elijah will.

Finally, he sighs. “All right…” He spins to look over his shoulder at the monitors and his eyes scan the crowds downstairs.

I look with him and I instantly catch sight of Marty at the poker table in the same chair he sat in every Friday night for six months. There’s only one other player at the table; a girl that looks almost like —

Lucy.

I lunge closer, accidentally bashing my knees into his desk. Zappia lurches from fear and follows my eyes to the monitor.

“Turn up the sound,” I tell him, keeping my eyes locked on her face.

“Dante…” Lilah crosses the room and pauses behind me, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head like mine. She reaches for my arm but I twist it away. “What is she—”

“You have something I want…”
Her voice cuts me to the bone. It’s her. It’s really fucking her.
“And I have something you want. It’s pretty simple.”

“What do you have that I want?”

“Dante Hart.”

Goddammit, Lucy.

I roll my hands into fists. What the fuck is she doing here? How is she here? She can’t be here right now. She—

“Where is he?”
Marty’s voice is just a grating as ever and I fight the fantasy of ripping his throat out with my bare hands.

“I can show you where you can find him… if you win.”

“And if you win?”

“You die.”

She came out here to confront him herself. Not only that, she’s offering me up as bait.

No. I don’t think so.

Zappia points at the monitor. “That’s your girl…” Confusion paints his face. “I thought she was dead!”

“She will be,” I growl, anger burning my chest. I push away from the monitors and dart towards the door.

Elijah blocks my way. “Dante, relax!”

“You’ll lead me to Hart?”
Marty asks.

“And his entire family.”

White knuckles poke out of my fist as my nails dig harder into my skin.

Marty chuckles.
“Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that.”

Lucy
fucking
Vaughn.

“Move.” I grab the door and jerk it open before Elijah or Lilah can stop me.

She’s officially gone too far now. I can’t believe I once considered this part of her to be
attractive
. That stubborn
defiance
. That ill-mannered
mouth
. Her complete inability to follow orders — even ones put in place to make sure she fucking keeps breathing.

I charge down the stairs onto the casino floor and march towards the poker table.

She doesn’t even see me coming.

Her jaw drops as I raise her out of the chair by her arm. “Lucy, what the
fuck
are you doing here?”

Marty climbs out of his seat, shocked by my sudden presence.

“I’m doing what I have to do,” she says, her voice solid as a rock.

“How did you—” My eyes fall on her left hand.

“Ouch!” she cries as I grab it and hold it up.

The joint is swollen and purple. I’ve seen it before because I’ve done it before.

I loosen my grip on it, falling silent at the lengths she went to defy me and the lines she crossed to take what was hers.

God, I fucking love this woman.

Chapter 24

Lucy

“Are you fucking crazy, Lucy?”

Dante keeps a firm hold on me. Every eye in the house is on us but he doesn’t seem to care about that at all. His blue irises are thick and wild. I can’t tell if he’s about to bend me over his knee or rip my clothes off.

I tug at his vise grip on my arm. “Let go of me—”

“Are you serious?” he barks back. “I did a good thing here, Lucy. The
right
thing. I saved you from destroying yourself, gave you a chance at redemption, and you fucking ruined it!”

“I never asked for that!” I argue.

“Yes, you did!” he shouts. “Every kiss, every smile, every damn day. Your life is worth more than mine and I won’t let you throw it away over
this
.”

“
This
is what I’ve been fighting for, Dante! Who are you to tell me I’m wrong?”

“I know a thing or two about killing and I don’t want that life for you. I never have — and I can’t
believe
you would sell us out after everything we’ve done for you!”

“I didn’t sell you out!”

“Sure as hell sounded like it!”

“Oh— come on.” I gesture at Marty’s stunned, confused face. “I was never going to tell him anything. I was playing him.”

“Playing him?”

“Yes!”

“How?!”

I inhale fast to reply but Marty’s weasel-like tone interrupts me. “This is quite the lover’s quarrel you two are having but I feel like I should point out where you are right now.”

Dante and I glance around the casino, noticing half-dozen guns pointed at our table.
Dammit, Dante.
I had this under control. Now we’ll both die.

The crowd parts and Zappia walks through with his hands in his pockets and a sour look on his face. I follow Dante’s eyes upward and I catch sight of Elijah on the balcony just outside of the office, standing there with his gun lying against Enzo’s throat. Lilah must be nearby, too.

“Everybody
leave
,” Zappia shouts, waving his arms at the nervous customers scattered about.

They bolt for the exit, leaving the half-dozen armed men behind at the tables around us. The entire room falls so silent, I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

“Young lady…” Zappia says, stopping a few paces away from us. “You are quite the handful, but I admire your…
tenacity
.”

I clear my throat. “Thank you?” Dante squeezes my arm to reel in my tongue but he still can’t get rid of that amused spark in his eyes.

Marty cracks his knuckles and smirks with delight. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment, Hart—”

“Sit down, Marty,” Zappia says.

Marty blinks. “Dad, I—”

“I said,
sit down
.”

Marty falls in line and lowers himself back into his chair.

Zappia turns to me again. “You, too, Ms. Vaughn.”

A quiver of fear stabs me and I look up into Dante’s eyes. He nods slowly, urging me to do as I’m told and I take my seat. His hand never leaves my body and settles on the back of my neck.