Riding Dirty: Luciotti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) - Kara Hart Page 0,52

me? Or for Dahlia?

He began walking toward my front door. “You in a hurry?” I just watched him.

He threw his hands in the air with frustration. “I told you, I got a business to run. Do I have to explain every little thing I have to do the night before work? A café isn't easy. It doesn't run itself.”

I smiled. “I'm just messing with you. Go. I'll see you in the morning.”

“The morning?” he stuttered.

“For breakfast. Gotta have one of those famous quiches before I leave this town for good.” I laughed and showed him out.

“Right,” he said, pulling out a cigarette. It was curious, since I hadn't seen him smoke before tonight. It was as if something had changed for him. Maybe my appearance had dug up old ghosts. Or maybe the man was on his way to bury them once and for all.

I shut the door and sat down in the corner of the kitchen, on the one chair that wasn't shattered to bits. This job I had been sent to do was almost over. Or at least I hoped to God it was. I grabbed the envelope Carmelo dropped off and looked at the address. An abandoned house near the water. Had Cade been hiding there the whole time? Was he ever really in Detroit? I didn't know what to believe.

Jobs never lasted this long. It was always easy to find the guy who owed you money or any other kind of debt. But Cade was cunning and that frightened me. I had to question every single move I made when I chased down a guy that smart.

That night I couldn't sleep. I lay awake in my bed with feverish hallucinations. The stress was killing me. Dahlia. She was in danger. If Cade laid one finger on her, I'd kill the bastard. But there was always the chance he'd get me first. Who knew what the bastard was up to? He could have been right outside my window for all I knew. Those thoughts birthed my newest anxieties. All those dark feelings, including the pain in my gut, pointed to one thing: I was in love.

Fuck…

When day broke, my eyes felt tired and heavy. I rolled out of bed and immediately stepped on a piece of glass in the kitchen. “Shit!” Not a good start to my day.

I reached down and pulled the big shard out, barely wincing at the pain. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered. In the bloody reflection of the glass was my face. But I could have sworn someone was standing behind me. Of course, when I turned around, there was nobody there. The woods were eerily quiet. Even the birds seemed to have vanished.

I disinfected my wound and wrapped my foot with a clean bandage. Nothing a little time couldn't fix. I limped to my car and fell onto the front seat. I have to clean this place. I thought to myself. It would be the first thing I would do before I left here, right after I got Cade.

I rubbed my hands together and started the Cadillac. It purred like a kitten. It was time to tell Dahlia all her troubles were about to fade. I drove to the café, which was already empty after the holiday weekend. I walked inside, hearing that familiar bell ring above my head, and saw that beautiful tight ass, Dahlia leaning over in front of me, cleaning the display case for the pastries.

“If only every customer got to experience this incredible view,” I laughed.

She jumped and turned around, blushing. “Shut up,” she said, when she calmed down a little.

“That ass is definitely worth the drive down from Detroit,” I continued. “In fact, it should be featured in that display case in front of all the pasties. You’d probably get more customers in here if it was.”

“What's with the limp?”

“Stepped on some glass. Not a huge deal, but it's an extra hassle I now have to deal with,” I said, leaning against the counter.

“I bet, old man. So what do you want today? Red eye? Iced caramel latte? A 32 ounce frappé?” She laughed. It was at that moment of light heartedness I regretted having to tell her the truth of the situation.

“Just a coffee to go. Large,” I said. She quickly grabbed a to-go cup and poured the dark and steamy liquid inside. “Listen, there's something I need to tell you.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “Nothing too serious, I hope?”

The coffee tasted bitter and

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