“Wait. Nero…” she protested.
“I’m here.” Nero appeared on her other side with unhurried strides, gun tucked back in the waistband of his jeans.
His palm found the small of her back and propelled her the rest of the way over the threshold and out into the sweltering night.
In the stillness of the street, she broke away and turned to face us.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, small hands going to her waist.
I blinked at the accusation and lack of gratitude. “Maybe you missed it, but he was ready to break your pretty, little jaw.”
The smooth column of her throat muscles worked in a rapid swallow. “I’m sure someone—”
“No one,” I interrupted sharply, “no one would have helped you. This isn’t that kind of place, Mia. What the fuck are you doing here?”
To her credit, she attempted to hold my gaze. It was fleeting, but she hung on for a full two seconds before dropping hers to the ground between our feet. She drew in a breath that plumped her breasts high over the edge of her collar. I hadn’t been watching, but it was hard to miss. She raised a hand and fanned herself, but all I saw was the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
She was wearing the same dress she’d had on earlier that afternoon, the thin one that did nothing to conceal the sharp points of her nipples or the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The fabric strained over her breasts, not enough to make the buttons running down the front gap, but enough to make a man want to set them free in his hands. Her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy knot that seemed pointless when tendrils had slipped lose around her face. Her skin glistened with perspiration that brightened the color in her cheeks and drew attention to the tiny droplet of sweat clinging to the hollow of her throat. It quivered when she swallowed.
“It’s so hot...” she gasped instead, completely ignoring my question. “I don’t understand how it can be so…” She pinched the fabric of her dress, right where the button was already straining for all it was worth to stay together and flapped it rapidly, giving us teasing peeks of her cleavage. “It was hotter in there than it is out here! How are those people not dying?”
“Half of them are too drunk to notice,” I replied.
Mia blew out a breath. “Crazy.”
With another deep exhale that sent the hairs around her face dancing, she started forward as if prepared to walk away. Her foot caught on gravel, and she staggered a step.
I caught her.
It was reflexes, I told myself. It had nothing to do with my obsession to hold her, but I was also a liar.
“Easy,” I heard myself mumble into the sticky indent at her temple.
She raised her head and our eyes locked. I was struck by how close her mouth was to mine. How full and tempting. All I had to do was close that inch and I could finally have the one thing I’d dreamed about for the last five years. My cock, having forgotten all about his earlier torture, lifted against my jeans, all too eager to join the party.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “The heat is making me a bit lightheaded.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be out here to begin with,” Nero snarled in a voice I knew meant he was sporting his own boner. “What were you thinking?”
Mia tugged out of my arms and turned so she was facing us once more. Eyes that reminded me of polished ambers flicked from me to Nero. The full pout of her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth the way I always imagined it would while I sank my tongue deep inside her slit.
“I … I came to see you.” She glanced from Nero to me. “I was told you come here after your pickups.” She gestured to the bar without taking her eyes off us. “It’s kind of gross.”
I smothered my grin behind the hand I rubbed over my jaw.
Nero’s eyes narrowed, his way of stifling his own amusement.
“Who told you that?” he demanded.
His response came with a pursing of her lips and a quite hum of deliberation. “I can’t remember.”
I’d expected that. Snitching, even on something as small as telling her where we were could get a person killed.
Nero dropped it. “Why are you here, Mia?”
Her uncertainty plumed as hot and thick as the heat around us, but she took a deep breath and replied, “I want to talk to Eduardo. I know you know where he is.”
A cold fist closed around my gut at the very thought of her going anywhere near Eduardo.
“Why do you need to see him?” I asked, careful to keep the tension from my voice.
The tip of a pink tongue poked out and slipped over the curve of her bottom lip, momentarily distracting me before she spoke. “To ask for an extension on what my parents owe.”
I’d had a feeling that was the reason for her reckless appearance at one of the most dangerous bars in the city looking like a damn present.
My gaze briefly met Nero’s in a familiar flick of unspoken conversation only two people who had known each other for as long as we had were capable of. I was relieved to see he was thinking the same thing I was — no fucking way we were giving her to Eduardo.
“This is a matter we’ve already discussed with your father,” Nero said in that tone he used when addressing a difficult situation, firm with authority and no room for negotiation.
Mia shook her head. “You don’t understand.” She bounced her gaze from me to Nero, then back. “I know what happens to people who don’t pay up. I know what Eduardo will make you do to my parents if they don’t get that money.” The shine in her eyes kicked me in the gut, but she kept talking. “I don’t know why we were short, but my parents can’t make up that money. We’re barely making ends meet.” She paused to lick her lips again, maybe to stall because I hadn’t missed the break in her voice. “I know that doesn’t mean anything to you. This is your job. You don’t care for excuses.” She sucked in a hard breath and faced each of us squarely, a soldier prepared to fight until the end. “That’s why I’m not asking you to make an exception. I know you can’t. If I can talk to Eduardo, maybe I can fix it.”
Intrigued, I glanced at Nero, who met my gaze for the briefest of minutes before turning back to the tiny brunette watching us with pleading eyes so desperate, I felt it to my core, a sensation that annoyed me. There wasn’t room in our line of work for weakness, or softness. People who felt things always wound-up dead and buried at the bottom of a shallow grave. Nero and I had fought long and hard to eradicate those emotions. Five minutes in Mia’s presence and she had us both on edge, and that was a red flag to abort mission before we did something really stupid.
“And how do you plan on fixing it?” Nero asked, long arms folding.
To most, the stance appeared intimidating, a dominating loom that towered over the majority of the public. Nero was good at that, intimidating people. It was why Eduardo wanted him on the street looking after pickups because no one was stupid enough to go up against a guy who looked like he could crush boulders with his bare hands.
Mia didn’t falter. She never even batted an eye, but her throat muscles did flex. I just wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or not.
“Whatever I have to do,” she whispered at long last. “I can pick up his dry cleaning,” she ventured carefully. “I can clean and cook. I get good tips at the diner, he can have everything I make. I’m good with numbers, so I can … do his math?”