I open it to a red-faced Dante, hand suspended in midair as though he was about to hammer on it again. “Where the fuck is she?” he demands. “She’s here. She’s safe.” His older brother climbs out of the black SUV in the driveway and stalks toward us. “Joey,” Dante shouts, pushing past me just in time to see her walk out of my bedroom, looking every inch like the woman I thoroughly fucked all night long.
