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She frowns at the tone in my voice. “You’re serious?”

“He’s bad news. Trust me, you might as well throw yourself down a flight of stairs before getting involved with him.”

“Note taken. Stick to Mr. Hot-Jeans.”

I grunt in reply and find something to do, but it doesn’t distract my brain.

Ruben and Bass. God, what a nightmare. I can’t think of anything more horrific than my one-night-stand sitting in a room with my tormentor. And yet there they go like they’re old friends or at least familiar acquaintances.

I’m an emotional wreck. The highs are high and the lows are becoming the norm. I can’t stop thinking about Bass, hating myself for it, wanting him again, and feeling worthless.

I’m already dreading taking Bass’s meal to him later—but also looking forward to it like the sicko I am.

6

BASS

“Ihear the deal’s close to getting settled.” Ruben Escalante leans against the back of the elevator as it descends to the basement level. “Pops is pleased with the progress we’ve been making.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“The old man’s coming tonight. Did he tell you that?”

I raise my eyebrows but don’t let my surprise show. Don Nardo doesn’t typically come in person. I’ve been dealing with Ruben the last few nights.

“That’s good to hear. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I bet you are.” Ruben grins at me, and I’m wondering if he knows about the marriage. Most likely, yes, and that shouldn’t bother me. He’s high up in the Escalante ranks, at least here in America. Don Nardo is the lead agent on this side of the border, and Ruben’s the old man’s son.

I don’t like the piece of shit, but I need to play the game.

We chat amiably as we make our way to the usual meeting place, a well-protected conference room near the back garage. I could go straight to it from where I parked my car, but I prefer walking through the lobby, if only to see Mari briefly.

I tried to ignore her tonight. What we did last week can’t keep happening. But the second I stood near her, that need rustled through me, a hunger I thought I’d stamped out a long time ago.

A starving need to rip her to pieces. To taste her, make her moan, make her come.

I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.

Because I’m marrying someone else. I don’t know who yet, but it’ll happen soon. In the next few weeks, most likely. It’s wrong, wanting Mari, thinking about fucking her, when I know I’m going to be with another woman.

And yet I couldn’t help myself.

I enter the conference room and step into the smell of smoke. Don Nardo’s at the far end sitting at the head of the table. He puffs on a thick, black cigar. “Ah, Bastiano, there you are.” Don Nardo stands. He’s a big man, loud, wrinkled and weathered, his thinning gray hair slicked back, dressed like a fancy rancher in designer jeans and an expensive flannel. Not all that different from me.

I shake the old man’s hand. “Glad you could make it tonight, Don Nardo.”

“Yes, I’m most sure of that. You and Ruben are becoming tight friends, but you and me?” He laughs loudly and shoves a drink into my hand. “We are men of the same cloth, yes?”

“Here’s to that.” I raise my glass and drink.

Don Nardo likes to bullshit. He starts telling stories about his glory days running the Escalante business in Texas. About his run-ins with cops, all of them exaggerated and hard to believe. Ruben sits across from me, smoking and drinking, on his phone most of the time while I listen and nod and laugh where appropriate.

It’s a half hour before Don Nardo’s refilling our drinks. “Now that’s enough of that. I’m sure you’re sick of hearing an old man’s tales of better days.”

“I’m always interested in what you have to say, Don Nardo.” Which is true, but mostly because I need to win him over.

“You know, playing up my vanity will not get you a prettier wife.” Don Nardo grins as he slumps down into his chair with a sigh.