Page 143 of Stabby Little

I take a moment to study my friend. In the gray light of his penthouse suite, his chiseled jaw pops like a GQ model's. The fitted suit he wears hugs his muscles exquisitely and the bulge in his suit coat pocket lets me know he's packing heat.

I think back to our discussion at the Little Bunny Club. I can't believe I ever doubted him. He wasn't attacking me when he expressed concern about my profession—he knew my bosses were monsters. As he implied, he wanted to give me a way out. Truthfully, I'm glad as fuck he questioned me. If I'd stolen Michael's files and didn't have a reputable contact to bring them to, I don't know what I would've done. The FBI and the NYPD would've taken far too long to investigate. I needed someone who could act. Fast.

Constantine will put this plan into action.

"Thank you." Jagger and I step into Constantine's home and shut the door behind us. "This is my work partner, Jagger."

Constantine shakes Jagger's hand. "I take it you worked for Michael, too."

"Up until last night.” Jagger's eyes turn dark. "Neither of us realized how deep he was into human trafficking. We couldn't work for a man like that a second longer."

Constantine guides Jagger and I into his living room by the smalls of our backs. "My men researched Michael, Anton, and Zaire's business structure. They keep their underlings out of the loop so they don't discover what goes on behind the scenes."

"That was my experience." I refuse to beat around the bush. "I thought they were only involved in the drug and weapons trade. Michael never mentioned human trafficking."

"Did you do lots of business for Michael?"

"I had no problem taking out his enemies. They were vicious sociopaths who were worse than him." Pulling the USB drive out of my suit coat pocket, I set it on the coffee table. "We realized he lied to us when we found this in his office. We couldn't deny the truth anymore."

Constantine issues me a firm nod. "Let me call my brothers. They'll arrive within twenty minutes."

"Great," Jagger grits out.

"I'll prepare you a drink while we wait." Constantine turns to me. "You'll have a gin and tonic, right?"

I nod. "Yes."

"What can I get you?" Constantine asks Jagger.

"Vodka. On the rocks."

"You don't fuck around." Constantine's eyes cut into Jagger's. "I like that."

"I hunted Kamchatka brown bears in Russia with former KBG agents to strengthen my wilderness survival skills. I learned to drink from them.”

After a few minutes, a rustling sound reaches my ears. When I glance up, I see that Constantine's placed our beverages on the coffee table.

"Vodka." He pushes Jagger's drink toward him.

"This is delicious." Jagger takes a sip, then sets his glass on a coaster.

"Gin and tonic." Constantine slides me my drink. "I topped it off with salt like I did at the Little Bunny Club."

I lean back on the sofa and take a sip. The liquor burns my throat, but I chug half in one gulp. After the psychotic night I had, I need gin to take the edge off. The salt Constantine put in adds an earthy flavor to the mix and takes it to the next level. I can't help but wonder what kind of salt he used. Himalayan rock salt? Korean amethyst bamboo salt? Another expensive salt you can only buy at upscale markets? Whatever it is, it lends the drink an exotic flair that stimulates my taste buds.

"I appreciate it." My voice is gritty as the gin wreaks havoc on my esophagus. "Do you have any of Benedetto's cannoli?"

Jagger furrows his brow. "Benedetto?"

"Benedetto's my oldest brother," Constantine explains. "He makes the best cannoli."

"I could go for one right now." A growl escapes me. "It'd pair well with this drink."

"You're in luck." Constantine rises from his seat. "He whipped up a batch for Arlo's friends to eat during their sleepover last night. He left the extras with me."

Jagger gnashes his teeth. "It's been a long time since I've had cannoli. I didn't trust the shit Zaire served at Tiffy's wedding."

I nod. "It was sitting in the sun too long. Fuck knows I wasn't going to risk it."