Chapter 7
Brody drives us over to the police station where Davide’s being held. We don’t talk on the way and I’m feeling too jittery to break the awkward silence. I keep thinking about his hand on my hip and the way he kept getting closer in that hallway like he wanted to kiss me, except he was talking like I was the most annoying human in the entire world, and the mixed signals were driving me crazy.
I mean, what an asshole. I was doing him a favor by working Maggie O’Malley and bringing up his building project, and he acted like I ambushed him and tried to ruin his life. I get it, he wanted a heads-up, but life doesn’t always work that way.
Besides, I know how to play these kinds of local officials. I’ve been doing it since I was a little girl practically. Dad used to bring me along when he’d meet with politicians and business leaders, and I learned how to manipulate and how to play the game from one of the best mafia Dons to ever do it.
Except Brody isn’t important. He’s just a blip on the radar. It doesn’t matter if I wanted him to crush my mouth with his in some weird mixture of lust and hate. I’m not usually into angry make-outs, but Brody Quinn might be the first man to drive me to absolute rage-induced horny madness.
“You don’t want to wait for me,” I tell him when we arrive at the precinct. “Our family lawyer is on the way and we’ll figure out bail.”
“Not the first time someone in your family’s been arrested, I take it.” He tilts his head. “I am a practicing attorney. I might be able to help.”
“No, that’s okay, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time today.” I give him a look, almost daring him to disagree. He only shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to get your panties some other time.”
I slam the door and hurry away. I don’t know why the hell I said that but I wanted to get a petty parting shot at him, and I like the way he seems too eager to get my underwear. Probably he just has a creepy panty-sniffing fetish. Or maybe he wants to shove them in my mouth while he rips into me from behind—
The precinct is surprisingly busy. I push Brody out of my head as I get into official Bianco Family mode and bug the desk sergeant until I get a good idea of what’s going on.
“Disorderly conduct?” I stare at the officer and squint at his nametag. “Sorry, Officer Byrne, but you have to be kidding me. What did he do?”
Officer Byrne does not seem interested in helping me. Instead, he instructs me to back off and take a seat, which I don’t take very well, and I’m about to make a real fucking scene when another officer in plain clothes arrives.
“Are you Elena Bianco?” He’s an older guy with ruddy cheeks and white hair buzzed short. “I’m Detective McCarthy. Come with me.”
I follow him back into the maze of corridors. We pass the booking room and several administration offices before we reach a bank of interrogation rooms. “What’s going on?” I ask him, suddenly wary. “Davide’s lawyer should be here soon. Maybe I should wait—”
He gives me an annoyed look and pushes the door open. “It’s being handled.”
I stare past him. Brody’s waiting inside and sitting on top of the table. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his handsome face, and I’ve never been more attracted and repulsed by a human being in my life before.
I step toward him and Detective McCarthy closes the door behind me. Suddenly, I feel like I’m trapped behind bars. “What the hell is going on?” I ask Brody.
“Relax. I took care of everything and looped your lawyer in already.”
I stare at him. “It’s been like ten minutes.”
“And I’m sure you’re very impressed. We’ll call that a new record.”
“Brody. I’m not amused anymore. This isn’t fun. What the hell is going on?”
He steers me into a chair and sits across from me, his eyes glancing up at a camera on the corner of the ceiling. A red light’s blinking. “Just a heads-up, but they’re listening.”
I take a calming breath and blow it out. “What did you do?”
“I called in a couple favors and guaranteed that your brother will post bail very shortly. They’ll release him in a few hours once the check clears.” He shrugs and looks down at his nails like this is the most boring conversation he’s ever had. “Apparently, Davide was in a shouting match with some very unpleasant gentlemen and things were likely going to escalate into a fight when he got picked up. I suspect he was being followed.”
I glare up at the camera. The cops have been all over my brothers since the attack on the oasis, as if we did anything other than defend ourselves during that fiasco. We called in all sorts of favors, both political and financial, and managed to bury it as deep as we could, but the CPD knows the truth about what happened and they’re looking for any excuse to harass my family.
“Elena, it’s going to be fine,” Brody says, leaning toward me. He puts a hand on top of mine. I stare at his long fingers, callused at the ends, like he works outside all day long chopping wood. I glance up at him. “It’s a bullshit misdemeanor. Your family lawyers will tear this to pieces.”
“I know,” I say and feel myself slump back into the chair. “But it’s going to keep happening. The cops have it out for us right now.”
Brody tightens his grip on my hand. “That’s why I’m here,” he says very softly, leaning closer. I stare at his lips, at his mouth, and down at his fingers again, and I wonder what this man could do to me if I let him.
A part of me wants to find out—and another part knows that it would be a massive mistake.
Like he seems so fond of reminding me, our relationship is a business transaction, and while it’s fun to flirt and tease with the big, grumpy asshole, he’s right that I shouldn’t get too attached.
Not that I would. He’s extremely not my type. But he is very attractive, and that’s a problem.
“Are you trying to say that I owe you another favor?” I ask, my stomach doing little twists and turns.
“I think we’re up to three now.”
“Unless I take off my panties. Think the cops would mind?”
His eyes widen a fraction and he pulls his hand back, and I’m pretty sure he’d let me do it if I really wanted.
“Indecent exposure,” he murmurs.
“Barely even a crime.”
“I’d rather not get my fiancée arrested.”
“Too bad. You should’ve just said yes.” I get to my feet and make a show of adjusting the skirt of my dress. “Walk me back to the waiting room?”
He stares at me, eyes roaming down my body, and another thrill runs into my stomach. This man wants me so badly and there’s a kind of power in that, but it’s tempered by the fact that I want him too.
“Right this way,” he murmurs and leads me back into the hallway.