Page 16 of Deadly Sins: Lust

“About what?” Maddie asked.

He glanced at a guy in a suit standing near the restaurant’s entrance. “I want to help you, but I gotta get back to work. If I stand here too long talking, my boss will come over.”

“When are you off? Can we talk to you after?”

A waiter with dark hair and eyes that reminded me of a cat stepped in front of Connor with two plates of food in his hands. He was slender and dressed in tight skinny jeans, which were cuffed at the bottom.

“Leo,” Connor said. “These two are mates of those girls we met up with the other night. The ones in town for the wedding.”

Leo’s eyes widened. Without saying a word, he shoved the plates down in front of us and took off for the kitchen.

Maddie shrugged. “What’s with him?”

I slid off the barstool. I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.

CHAPTER 13

I poked my head inside the kitchen. A short, plump woman stirring a large metal pot of soup squinted at me and tipped her head to the side. “The toilet is over there.”

“I’m looking for Leo.”

“He went out back for a smoke. Be about five minutes or so, I’d reckon.”

“He said I could join him, but he must have forgotten to tell me.”

She pointed at the back door. “He’s just through here.”

“Thanks.”

“No worries.”

I stepped outside and looked around. I didn’t see him. A swirling mist of vapor wafted around the side of the building, peppering the air with a layer of smoke. I crept toward it, but he’d heard the back door open. He jerked his head around the corner, dropped his cigarette on the ground, and took off running, confirming my suspicions.

He had something to hide.

I chased after him. “Stop! I just want to talk.”

He crossed the street and stuck a key into the door of a tiny, red, bubble—shaped coupe and got inside. Fortunately, I was prepared for such an event. I produced the steak knife I’d stolen from the bar’s counter and stabbed it into his front tire. It was a clean slit, flattening out just enough to keep him from going anywhere fast.

I knocked on the car window. “Get out.”

“I can’t believe ... why did you ... why would you do that?”

“I asked you to stop running. You didn’t.”

“And that makes it okay to slash my tires?”

“Tire,” I clarified.

“What?”

“It wasonetire. Get out of the car.”

“No.”

He started the engine.

I fisted my hand. “I’ll bust your window out too, but you’re not leaving.”