White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(4)

Dom fits the Sig’s grip into his palm like he’s done thousands of times before and presses the barrel against her forehead. Only, I know better. This whole fucking thing is about proving a point. He won’t use his own piece, not on her and not for wet work. If someone puts a bullet in Teal’s head, it’ll come from Primo’s throwaway, which will be wiped clean before it’s tossed.

“One round is all it’ll take. Sixty-seven cents. That’s it. That’s what your life has come down to.” He jabs the metal harder. “Do you think your life is worth more than sixty-seven cents, girl?”

Teal’s tears tumble faster as she blinks rapidly, probably because she’s afraid to nod her head. I’m surprised she hasn’t fainted.

“She needs to go to rehab,” I say.

Dom’s quick glare would carve me in half if I wasn’t so used to being on the receiving end of his rage. “Rehab costs money. No one gets help for free around here. Especially not ungrateful little bitches who use my name, spill information, and then cost me favors.” Another nudge of the barrel against the bridge of her nose. “So, you tell me, Teal. What the fuck should I do with you? Because you’re not even worth sixty-seven cents to me right now.”

“I’ll pay for her rehab,” I say before I even plan to form the words. It’s like someone plucked them out of thin air and shoved them in my mouth before I could even decide to say them. Because if I’d been thinking, I’d have said that her health insurance from the club is good through the end of the month and should cover the cost.

But I don’t add that detail because Dom jerks around to face me, the pistol still touching Teal. “You’ll pay for it? Why? She ain’t worth it. I can tell you that right now.”

How do you explain the value of human life to a man who has never understood it before? You can’t.

“Let me worry about that.”

Dom’s gaze narrows. “You already got a piece of ass that’s so hot you plan to fuck her in a construction site. What do you need with a whore who’ll spread her legs for anyone? You’re better than that shit.”

I dig down deep, into the cold, dead part of me that’s descended from this man. “You kill her, I’ll have her sister to deal with, and I need good, loyal—quiet—employees. They’re fucking hard to find.”

It’s a practical, emotionless reason. One I know Dom will understand.

His lower lip rises, pressing against the top. “You sure her sister’s really worth the cost of rehab? Because if she makes a fuss, we’ll take care of her too.”

Fucking hell.

Dom would never ask a mobster if he’s sure. It means he thinks I’m weak, and that’s not saving Teal—or Tanya.

It’s a dangerous move, but I know the callous man before me. I know what he respects and what he hates, so I stare him down.

“Did I stutter, Dom? I’ll cover the cost. Now, let’s get back to fucking business. I’ve got shit to do today.”

Better men have been killed for less than what I just said to him, but the corner of his mouth curls up and respect gleams in his eyes. Like he’s finally seeing his likeness in me.

Not a fucking chance.

Then again, you don’t get to choose your DNA.





3





Memphis





“You’re a good man,” I whisper to Cannon as Teal whimpers from the back seat of the Chevelle.

He turns his head to glance at me, and his features are so hard, they may as well have been stamped in flint. Sweat dots his brow, and his neck is flushed an angry crimson.

“Now is not the time you want to be making assumptions about me.” He looks back at the road, slowing to a stop as the light turns red, and the only sound in the car is Teal’s snuffling. It’s the longest red light of my life.

There are a million things I want to say. Starting with . . .

Thank you for not taking the gun and shooting me.

Thank you for not ratting me out to your mob boss dad.

Thank you for protecting this girl I don’t even know, but she’s obviously young and stupid.

But I say none of it. We drive back to the club without another word passing between us.

As soon as we drive into the garage, Tanya is at the passenger door, ripping it open and pushing her head past me to see into the back seat.

“Thank God. Thank God,” she whispers as she reaches out to touch Teal’s rat’s nest of a hairstyle.

As she maneuvers around me, I say, “I’ll . . . um . . . get out and you can—”

Tanya’s blue eyes frost over as they land on mine. “Move.”

“Tanya.” Cannon says her name like a bark as he climbs out and slams the door. “What the fuck happened? You told me you had it taken care of. You told me that you were getting her help. What. The. Fuck?” His voice echoes off the concrete walls, but he doesn’t seem to care who hears.

Tanya squeezes her eyes shut before she removes her head from the Chevelle and steps back so I can exit. As soon as I’m out of the car, I march around to the hood, not wanting to be caught in the cross fire.

“We picked out a place last night,” Tanya says quietly, her fingertips resting on the roof. “They said they had room to take her. She asked me if we could spend this afternoon together and I’d put her on the train tonight. The staff was going to pick her up and get her settled. I really thought she meant it. I swear.” Her attention cuts to the interior as Teal sobs louder.