break him in half—cause I can.”
Doogan stopped. He could see both of his siblings were seconds away from meeting a rather ugly death. Who would the cops believe? Three criminal hoods from the projects or Mace Llewellyn and his out-of-town Southern friend? Two decorated officers from the Navy.
No. Doogan wasn’t stupid. Mean and evil, but not stupid. He held his hands up and backed away from Mace. Once far enough away, Mace pushed the man in his arms toward Doogan, and Smitty did the same.
Doogan took them both and backed away down the street.
“Stay away from my sisters, Doogan. Or next time I’ll make sure this ends differently.”
Doogan didn’t answer, he just left.
Smitty resheathed his claws and wiped blood off his hands. “Well that was almost as much fun as the cops pretending to be hookers.”
Mace smiled and grimaced all at the same time. His face and chest hurt.
“Shouldn’t the cops be here by now?”
Smitty’s innocent statement made Mace laugh outright.
His friend grabbed his arm and pulled him under a street lamp. “Let’s see your face, hoss.” He winced. “Yup. They did some damage.”
“Thanks.” Mace went to touch his face, but Smitty held his hand back. “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t pointed it out to me, Smitty.”
“Don’t get sassy with me, hoss.”
“Sorry. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Dez had still been with us.”
“That’s easy. There would have been a lot of people dead. Between the two of ya. She got that look in her eye. She’s a predator, son. And don’t think for a second she ain’t.”
“Dez would be the least of their worries.”
“My, my. We are awfully protective of a woman we haven’t seen in years.”
“Don’t start, Smitty.”
He chuckled. “You know, you look real shitty, hoss.”
“Thank you very much.” Mace moved his jaw around. At least it wasn’t broken.
“So shitty you look like you need someone to take care of you.”
Mace blinked in confusion. “Why? I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“Someone to take care of you, Mace. Tend your wounds. Comfort you in her very large, sweet bosom.”
Mace shook his head. “No. No way, Smitty.”
“Would you trust me?”
“That’s a shitty thing to do. It’s almost catlike in its evilness.”
“See, your problem is you underestimate dogs. There’s a reason many of us are let up on the couch, while they keep y’all in a zoo.”
“This is a stupid conversation.”
“We’re stupid men. Stupid men who like their women big chested and loud.”
“You think Dez is loud?”
“Nah. Sissy’s loud. Your woman does have quite the voice, though. Like someone took a sandblaster to her vocal cords.”
“I like her voice.”
“I know dirt roads in the poorest part of Tennessee that are smoother than that girl’s voice. Although, I have to admit, I did enjoy watching her suck that finger clean.”
“It’s almost like you want me to hurt you.”
“Gina?”
Dark brown eyes that were almost black focused on her. Filled with such intense sadness, Dez hated that the woman freaked her out so much. But something about Gina Brutale set her nerves on edge.
“Yeah.” She slid off her stool. “Come on.” Gina sucked back the rest of her scotch and dropped the glass on the bar.
She glanced at the women with her. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
The women didn’t respond. Instead, they stared at Dez. Perhaps the most uncomfortable experience she’d had in a long time, and Dez’s job consisted of uncomfortable experiences. But the way they stared at her—that’s what freaked her out. Like they were silently plotting which parts of her body would sauté well in olive oil.
Gina walked away from the bar and Dez followed her, glancing back once at the women. They were still staring at her. She fought the urge to shudder.
Gina walked to an office in a deserted part of the club and went to open the door, but someone pulled it open from the other side. A woman who resembled Gina stepped out. The two women stared at each other. Actually, they really glared. Almost vicious in their intensity.
Eventually the woman’s brown eyes turned to Dez. “Who the fuck is that?”
“None of ya fuckin’ business.”
Dez rolled her eyes. This sounded like one of those typical arguments between girls in her old neighborhood. They usually degenerated into hair pulling until knives were eventually drawn.
She didn’t have time for that.
“Can this wait? I gotta life.”
Gina proceeded into the office. The other woman made to move around her but stopped and suddenly sniffed Dez instead.
Dez reared back. “Can I help you?”
She grunted. “Another one.”
Dez had no idea what that meant, but she didn’t have a chance to ask as the woman walked off.
Shaking her head, she entered the office, closing the door behind her.
“Interesting girl.”
“She’s a bitch.” Gina slid on top of a highly polished mahogany desk. “And my sister. Anne Marie.”
“My sympathies.”
She snorted. “We all have our own personal hell. She’s mine.”
Dez took in the office. Fancy, but it didn’t look very used. Lots of mahogany and glass. It didn’t look like the office of a woman.
“Whose office is this?”
“My father’s. But he doesn’t come here very often.”
Dez almost gave in to her desire to find out more about the well-known but rarely seen Gino Brutale. Instead, she forced herself to remember she was in this club for a reason. Not to see if she could find out more about Brutale’s mob ties.
“So…you wanted to talk to me about Alexander Petrov’s death?”
“Yeah. Ya see, he was…”
The woman struggled with her admission, but Dez didn’t know why. “He was…” she coaxed.
Brutale stood tall, suddenly proud. “He was with me. He was my lover.”
Dez didn’t understand why Gina needed to fear admitting that information. Brutale was no youngster. She appeared to be in her early to midthirties. And it wasn’t like Petrov ran some rival mob family, unless Missy was up to more than she realized. Which Dez seriously doubted.
Dez waited for Gina to continue.
“I saw him the night he died. When he left me that night, he was very much alive. I don’t know if anyone followed him. I do know Missy Llewellyn would lose her friggin’ mind if she knew about us.”
Dez stepped forward. “And did she know?”
“I don’t know. But he was going to leave her and stay with me. I don’t know if he ever got around to telling her that, though.”