Wicked Company

Chapter One

"And it's irritating. You keep saying it's too personal, but-"

"Che cazzo, Sasha. Per favore non farlo." (What the fuck, Sasha. Please don't do this.) I rolled my eyes, standing from of the couch and rummaging around the cluttered floor, desperate to find my clothes and get out of the situation I'd suddenly found myself in.

After an irritating minute of searching, I finally found them, kicked under the table in our heated moment when I'd first arrived hours before. I yanked them up and jerked them on, though leather pants don't like to work well with angry dressing.

Noticing my clear frustration when I growled at the tank top I'd slipped into backwards, Sasha scooted over to the edge of the cushion, reaching out for my hand.

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry, okay? I know what this is, I do. I'm sorry. I... I don't know why I said that."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. Can I just pretend that I believe that?

I offered her a half-assed smile and adjusted my tank, slipping into my leather jacket. "I have somewhere to be tonight."

"Wait, what? What about the movie?"

I paused mid reach for my boots, waiting for her to tell me it was some soppy romance, regardless of how much she knew I hated those.

"What movie was it?"

Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't fucking say it...

"Hm? Oh, um, The Notebook."

Fuck me.

"Sorry, Sash. That's a hell no from me. And I really do have something I need to do."

She jumped up, dark chocolate eyes painfully staring back at me. "You don't have to lie to me to leave, you know."

"I'm not lying, Sash. I have something to do, not that I need to explain to you why I can't stay over. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? You can choose dinner." I stepped into my boots and picked up my helmet from the corner chair, grabbing my keys from the neighboring desk.

"But Dani-"

"Bye!" I threw over my shoulder, jogging down the steps and out to the driveway where my Superleggera sat waiting for me.

Fuck, she's beautiful.

I grinned to myself, eyeing up my bike and swinging my leg over, letting her hum to life beneath me. I checked my watch before pulling my helmet on.

I had to get forty miles down to Bancroft's building and all night to do it, but I felt free and wanted to fly. My adrenaline spiked as I revved the engine, clit throbbing with the need to come again as it vibrated voraciously against my motorcycle's leather seat.

I smirked with exhilaration and I stepped it back onto the road, ready for the night ahead. I let the whipping wind race over my body, my leather jacket and pants hugging my skin like a silken embrace.

Under the dark cover of night, I made my way towards the large building downtown, carefully avoiding the streets that I knew were riddled with cameras. Leaning the bike hard to the left, I ducked into the parking garage adjacent to his building, having already hacked into the security system to loop the cameras with footage comprised of the previous week.

I made my way to the top level, pulling my helmet off and shaking my hair out. Grabbing my binoculars, I tapped my foot, waiting for Bancroft to come into view. I felt my face curve into an evil grin at the open of his door.

Time for a little karma you corrupt sack of shit.

My grip tightened immensely on my binoculars, an entire group of suit-clad men on Albert Bancroft's heels. He wasn't alone in his money-hoarding endeavors.

Deep down, I'd known that, but a small part of me had wished for an easy in-and-out dealing. On the contrary, I found myself staring down at least twenty men.

Staring down at the bottom of the tattoo peaking out of my jacket sleeve, I glanced up to the star-speckled sky.

What the fuck do I do now, Zio? (What the fuck do I do now, Uncle?)

I tapped my boot against the concrete below, staring down once again at the tattoo.

A single crack of thunder boomed above me and I jumped, knowing there had been no mention of a rare Los Angeles storm for the night.

Guess that's the sign I needed.

I nodded once, shoving my binoculars back in my bag and starting the engine. Pulling my helmet back on, I glanced once again at the office across the road. The men had all left, no doubt getting into their overly-expensive cars and filing out of the lot.

Twenty or more to take down... I realized, revving the engine and heading back down for the main level. Turning for Eli's club in desperate need of a drink, I tried to think of a new plan, letting my body relax into the vibration of the motorcycle beneath my legs.

I'll take care of this, Zio. I'll make them pay for what happened to you. I miss you.