Page 10 of Fallen Rook

“You’re harassing a federal agent,” I warned. Though I doubted he gave a shit. I had a file in my office with Enzo’s name on it and over five hundred vivid pictures of flayed corpses and mutilated bodies. The only reason he hadn’t been arrested thus far was because of damn technicalities, and the army of lawyers the Ferrante family had at their disposal.

“I’m just trying to say thank you.”

“You already did. Eight times. Now fuck off.”

“How’s it fair that you can stalk me for three years but I can’t even walk you to your car this one time?”

“I’m not stalking you; I’m doing my damn job.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

“Go away, Enzo.”

“You’re my guardian angel, and it’s basic manners that I let you know how much I appreciate it.”

“I will arrest you if you don’t stop.”

“See, now you’re just threatening me with a good time.” He grunted in that deep, lazy drawl of his. “I’d pay good money to have you put handcuffs on me.”

A thought occurred to me—I could probably kill him, too. Though his body would be harder to dispose of.

I was immune to theatrics, so I wasn’t annoyed per se, but I definitely regretted not letting that Cash bastard put a bullet in his thigh.

“What can I do to make you leave me alone?” I ground out between clenched teeth.

“Kiss me,” he said breathlessly.

I tripped on the cobblestoned street like a bumbling idiot, managing to correct my stance a second before hitting the ground.

Enzo’s deviancy was nothing new to anyone who studied him more than ten minutes, but even I was surprised by how far gone the Mafia heir truly was.

He laughed at my clumsiness, throwing out his arms theatrically. “Kiss me, Clark Kent!”

“Kiss you?” I spotted my car on the street. It took every ounce of restraint in me not to sprint the rest of the way there.

“Yeah. I need to know if I’m attracted to men or not.”

I was just desperate enough to get rid of him to consider it. Not that I was willing to admit it.

“Stop embarrassing yourself, Enzo.”

“I thought you said you were bi.”

“I am.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“That I also have standards.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not asking for a ring. Just a kiss!” I wondered, if I stopped answering, would he stop yammering my ear off? This was why I kept my hookups strictly with people thirty-five or above.

At least I was about three steps away from my Audi.

I got my answer half a second later.

“It’s just that you seem like the kind of man who knows what he’s doing. And even though I got excited when that prick started sucking me off, I wasn’t all the way into it. To be honest, I’ve been much harder with women. But then again, the idea of him really appealed to me, so maybe—”

I couldn’t take it anymore.