The Hitman's Dancer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Snake Eyes Book 2) (25 page)

Zappia takes the dealer’s place at the head of the table and the harsh lights above cast wicked shadows down his old, lumpy face. “If I recall correctly, I promised you a game. Is that right, Ms. Vaughn?”

“Yes, sir,” I say.

He gathers the playing cards from the table and shuffles them in his hands with quick, precise fingers. “Unfortunately, your father’s
problem
is no longer an issue — a fact that we can all comfortably attribute to my son. Correct?”

I stare across the table at Marty’s mangled face and he glares back at me with a lazy, impatient eye. “Yes, sir,” I reply.

“Just shoot them, Dad,” Marty spits.

“Why would we do that, Marty?” Zappia growls. “If we did, then we’d all just be a bunch of
thugs
.” He pauses to further emphasize the word. “Am I right?”

Marty frowns and sinks back into his chair.

“That’s what I thought…” Zappia shakes his head at him. “You want to kill me? You want to run this business and lead this family? You gotta
earn
it. You don’t earn your place by sitting at the casino counting cards — you carve it from fucking stone. You claim it with your bare fucking hands.”

Marty wipes his chin to curb his boiling rage.

“Now, we’re gonna play a hand,” Zappia continues, his eyes flicking between the two of us. “Winner take all. Loser gets buried out back. Deal?”

Dante’s fingers press into me. His calloused skin is hot, his temperature spiking high, but his touch remains firm and confident on the back of my neck.

He knows I can win.

I know what he’s capable of if I don’t.

I glance up, taking note of Elijah’s lingering presence on the catwalk with Enzo. Lilah’s still nowhere to be seen.

“Deal,” I say.

Zappia shifts his attention to Marty and he waits for his answer while shuffling the deck again.

Marty’s good eye twitches in its socket. He’s a nervous wreck inside and everyone can see it. A caged animal that’s been poked one too many times with a stick. “Deal,” he finally says, spitting the word out as if tastes like battery acid.

Zappia throws on a smile but he’s far from amused. He deals the cards, tossing them hard against the felt table into two stacks of five.

I pick up my cards as Marty does, studying his eyes as his gaze falls on them. There’s a slight twitch in his brow but it’s not enough to tell me anything.

I turn my hand over, praying that luck falls in my favor. There’s only one shot at this. Nothing matters unless the cards are on my side.

Two kings and an ace. A four and a seven.

I keep my face relaxed, refusing to show him anything that might tip my hand. It’s not the best draw but it’s definitely manageable.

I lay the four and seven face down and Zappia deals two new cards at me. I wait for Marty’s play before touching them. He does the same and throws down two of his cards for trade.

We turn them up together and I breathe a silent sigh at the double A’s staring up at me.

Full house. Aces over kings.

Marty’s brow twitches again. Either he has a good hand or he’s lost complete control of that jacked-up face of his.

“Let’s see ‘em,” Zappia says.

Dante gives my neck another comforting squeeze, reminding me to breathe.

I lay my hand down and Zappia’s lips curl. We look at Marty as he flings his own cards onto the table and fires a knowing, sinister smile in my direction.

Four twos. Four of a kind.

My heart stops.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Vaughn,” Zappia says, “but my house always wins.”

Dante raises his gun and points it across the table at Marty, drawing laughter from the back of Zappia’s throat.

“You’re in over your head, Hart,” he chuckles.

Dante stands firm. “I wouldn’t exactly call you an impartial dealer.”

Zappia shrugs. “He’s my son.”

“You should say your goodbyes then.”

“Think, Hart. You’re
surrounded—
”

I jump as Lilah appears behind Zappia, almost out of thin air.

“Check again, old man,” she says, planting the barrel of her gun against his head with a blood-soaked hand.

I look around the casino and my jaw drops.

Six bodies lie on the floor, hidden from view behind the other tables. Silent pools of blood seep from bright, red smiles on their necks, staining the carpeted floor beneath them.

They never saw her coming.

I look up and Elijah smiles.

Zappia’s eyes fall, growing smaller in his head with each passing second. “I guess this is it, then…” His eyes slowly curve up to look at Dante.

“Only for him,” he replies.

Zappia shakes with rage. “You think I’m going to sit here and watch you kill my son—” Lilah pokes the back of his head with her gun and he winces.

Dante’s fingers wrap around my arm and he guides me out of the chair. “Not me,” he says. He takes his gun by the barrel and holds the grip out to me. “She is.”

I stare at the gun in his hand and a plague of fear washes over me. Suddenly, my fingers turn numb and my thoughts crumble to bits.

“If this is what you want, Lucy, then it’s yours,” Dante says, pushing the gun closer to me.

I study his stormy eyes, so full of love and longing. Love for me. Longing for a life together that leaves this kind of chaos behind us.

A life without Marty Zappia.

I wrap my fingers around the grip and he lets go. I feel the full weight of it in my palm. Not just the tiny pieces inside that I can strip apart and put back together with my eyes closed, but the
full weight
of every bullet. One little piece of metal and this is all over. One pull of the trigger and Marty Zappia disappears for good.

Just like my father.

I could shoot Marty now but no good would come of it. It won’t give me what I really want. Just one more day with my father; a final chance to tell him how much I loved him. It won’t honor his memory like he deserves. He raised me to be strong but not like this. Not behind the barrel of a gun.

Dante slides his hand over mine and takes the gun as it slips from my fingers. “Come on,” he whispers, his lips grazing my forehead. “Let’s go home.”

A tear falls down my cheek and he brushes it away with his thumb. I nod, tingling with warmth from his gentle, loving eyes. A world without chaos.

A life with Dante Hart.

He takes my hand and leads me away from the table.

“Hart!”

We spin around as Marty lunges out of his chair, kicking it to the floor behind him. He reaches back, fury bleeding from his eyes, and pulls out the gun stashed in his belt.

Dante draws and fires before Marty can even stand.

The bullet hits him between the eyes and Marty falls to the floor in a silent, deafening clump.

Zappia exhales, the breath shaking his entire body for several long moments. “Get out of my fucking city,” he murmurs. His eyes roll upward to look at us as grief overwhelms him.

Dante lowers his gun back down to his side, casting a quick, understanding nod at the old man.

Chapter 25

Dante

When I wake up, she’s gone.

My senses tune automatically. I smell the jolting aroma of fresh coffee and cooked bacon. I hear the voices of my brother and sister tossing insults back and forth downstairs. It’s like I’ve been transported back in time; back to a world before the three of us became what we are now.

Lucy laughs. The sound carries over their teasing voices and I smile.

I throw on a shirt and pants before heading downstairs.

“Good morning!” Elijah calls as I enter the kitchen. He sits next to Lucy with his medkit beside him, re-wrapping her wrist as he’s done about once a day since we came back home. Lucy doesn’t even flinch as he puts pressure along the purple bruise. Tough as nails. Always will be.

“Hey, big brother,” Lilah adds with a stiff yawn. She refills her coffee mug to the very top and takes her seat at the table across from them.

Lucy.
Her brunette hair sits on top of her head in a loose ponytail and her cheeks fill with pink life as she gazes up at me. “Hi,” she says, smiling.

Just two letters and my heart skips. I lean down to kiss her forehead and she leans into it, welcoming the soft embrace.

I gesture behind me as I sit down next to Lucy, making note of Elijah and Lilah’s black bags lying stacked near the front door. “Going somewhere?”

“We have a little business to tend to,” Elijah nods, laying the last of the bandage around Lucy’s little wrist.

“What kind of
business
?”

Lilah swallows a large gulp of her coffee. “Nothing to worry your pretty, little head about—”

“Lilah—”

She laughs. “Seriously. It’s nothing. More than anything, we just want to give the two of you some privacy.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lucy says. “This is your house more than it is mine.”

“We disagree,” Elijah says.

“And…” Lilah shrugs. “We need to take a little time for ourselves. Snake Eyes was a part of us for so long. Living off-mission feels…
strange
.”

I nod. “I know what you mean.”

“Maybe it is time to start over,” she says. “Build a new life somewhere.”

“Maybe it is,” I say. I reach for Lucy, laying my hand on her shoulder. Her lips twitch as I run my thumb over her skin and she looks at me with love.

Elijah reaches into his bag and pulls out a cellular phone. “We set up a secure line for all of us to keep in touch,” he says, sliding it across the table at me. “Just in case.”

“Exactly what everyone needs when easing into civilian life,” I joke.

“It’s an
interesting
transition,” he chuckles.

I take the phone and fight the urge to give them instructions. They stare across the table at me, expecting me to give them some kind of order but I keep quiet. My days of trying to control them are long over. I’m not even sure if I ever had it.

Lilah grins. “We’ll be careful.”

“I know.” She stands up and walks over to me. I join her in a hug and I brace myself for her tight, unyielding squeeze. “Take care of each other.”

“Ditto,” she says.

Elijah takes her place. “
Please
stop letting Lucy hurt herself…” he jokes. “My medkit is only so big.”

“I would if I could,” I say, dropping my eyes to look at her mischievous face.

Lucy laughs and shrugs her little shoulders. “I’ll try and behave.”

“Liar,” I say.

The twins say their goodbyes to Lucy and grab their bags by the door. I sit with her, staring into her green eyes while listening to their bikes take off down the drive.

“You think they’ll be back?” she asks.

“Someday,” I nod. My lips curl. “But not for a while.”

I grab her hand and pull her towards me. She slides off her chair and over mine, straddling my waist as our lips press together. I touch her little body and a powerful urge rises in me to take her here and now.

Lucy moans against my mouth, tasting my tongue as she sways her hips on me, awakening my cock. Her hand falls south and she cups the growing bulge, massaging me the way I like it.

The phone vibrates, tittering softly against the table. I reach for it, sighing. “What do they need
now
?” Lucy’s mouth falls to my neck, silently teasing me with kisses as I bring the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”

“I heard you were looking for me.”

I slide Lucy off my lap, leaving her in confusion as I step outside onto the porch. His voice — young but hard with experience — twitches a nerve deep in my brain.

“Fox Fitzpatrick.” I say his name and my tongue tastes like bile. “How did you get this number?”

“I know a guy who knows some things.”

I snort. “So I heard. What do you want?”

“To talk.”

I listen for any background noise — anything that might hint at where he is — but Fitzpatrick is too well-trained for a screw up like that. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing a lot more than talking lately, Fox. There’s an awfully long line of dead agents behind you right now.”

“They tried to take someone important from me. I reacted. Perhaps you know a thing or two about that.”

My gaze pulls towards the house. “I might.”

“Then it shouldn’t be too far of a stretch to suggest a truce between us.”

I chuckle. “And here I thought you called to threaten me.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong to me, Dante,” he says. “I have nothing but respect for you—”

“Cut the crap, Fox. I haven’t done shit to you but what you did brought a great deal of pain on me and my family and that’s not something I’m prepared to
forgive
.” I hear his breath, calm and steady. “Actions have consequences.”

“I know that,” he says. “My life is nothing but consequences as of late but I have people that depend on me. I’m betting you do, too.”

“You’re not wrong about that.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. Just a little distance.”

I glance around my childhood home and fill my lungs with clear, forest air. “Well, as it stands,
distance
isn’t too far out of my way right now… but I suppose you already know that, too.” He says nothing. “I have more important things to worry about than
you
, Fox.”