“Ride or die,” Samara mused thoughtfully, her face shifting into the faintest hint of a smile.
“I have to pee,” I interjected suddenly, sliding off my stool. Though the motion felt graceful, eyes tracked the movement warily as Scar lunged forward and prepared to catch me.
“That wasn’t so hot, huh?” I asked, getting my feet more solidly underneath me.
Ivory laughed, pressing her hand to her mouth. “Not so much, honey,” she murmured.
“Fuck,” I groaned as I stumbled toward the hall. It took me a moment to realize I had no clue where the Hell I was going. “I’m drunk,” I announced. “Where’s the bathroom in the Estate of Torment?”
Ivory reached forward, taking the mostly full mimosa she’d deposited in front of me right before my attempt to stand. She dumped it down the sink, and I watched the liquid disappear sadly. “Good call,” I said as Scar caught me in his grip and guided me down the hall to the bathroom. “Why do they call you Scar?” I said, reaching up a finger to touch his face. “Ryker’s the one with scars on his perfect face.”
“There’s more than one place to have scars, Calla Lily,” Scar murmured back, and even in my drunken haze, my heart clenched at the melancholy to his words. I knew that once I wasn’t drunk, his use of my father’s nickname would resonate with me more.
In my drunken haze, all I felt was the fact that Ryker had bothered to talk about me with his friends. In my loopy state, it seemed sweet. “This is true,” I agreed, stepping into the bathroom to do my business. It took longer than it should have, and I cursed myself for wearing jeans.
By the time I finished and Scar led me back to the kitchen, he practically had to help me back up onto the stool. His face pinched, as if it pained him to put his hands on me. “I know I’m no beauty queen, but am I that gross?” I asked, and he only chuckled at me like I was ridiculous after he got me settled.
“You’re Ryker’s woman. I like my hands attached to my arms, yeah?”
Samara cradled Luna in her arms next to me, and I eyed her like the temptation that she was.
No, I would not allow my biological clock to turn me into a senseless mess. Not even when drunk. When I looked up from Luna’s face, Don met my eyes with a contented smile. “I never could have children of my own,” he announced, and the room went still. I got the distinct impression that he’d never told the girls that, and even through the fog the moment felt important.
Like the air rippled with the significance of whatever he planned to say.
“My wife and I divorced over it, in fact. She wanted kids more than anything, and that it didn’t upset me that we didn’t have them became a daily fight between us.” He paused, looking at me as if he expected me to understand. From the way the others looked at him, I had a feeling they were already grasping whatever I missed.
“You didn’t want kids?” I picked at a raspberry before attempting to pop it into my mouth. It missed, but I pretended like nobody had seen it. Even with Sadie giggling at my side.
“They may not have come from my body, but I already had two sons. Matteo and Lino were everything I could have ever wanted. Why would it be any different for Ryker?” I stilled, the point finally settling on top of my head instead of flying right over it.
“I don’t think I forgive you after all,” I whispered, making his face transform with a massive smile.
“That’s alright. You have an entire lifetime to do so.”
Eff.
Sixteen
Ryker
I loved torturing people.
I loved the feeling of their skin splitting beneath my knife and the sounds of their screams echoing against the walls of the freezer.
But with Calla in my life, I no longer wanted to draw it out. I wanted to get the answers we needed so we could get home to the women.
I wanted Calla in my arms, and to spend every waking second striving to convince her of her new reality.
That we were inevitable, and we would be together. Hopefully, Ivory and Samara didn't do any damage to the little progress I'd made. Hopefully, they could convince her to just accept us.
To accept me.
Because I wasn't going anywhere.
I'd stalked her before she could ever be mine, and there were no limits to what I would do now that she was.
"Is Miguel planning on backing down from his war with Tiernan Murphy?" Matteo asked, and he looked bored out of his mind. He was always the best in the room at holding his mask, remaining indifferent no matter what tactics I took to get someone to talk. Simon stared at me like I'd lost my mind, and I knew I'd probably gone in a little hard.
Oops.
I supposed flaying someone alive was a tactic I usually took later in the game, rather than in the first two hours.
Matteo's eyes turned knowing as he glanced at me. "You'll have to excuse Ryker's sloppy work. He's usually an artist." He gestured down at the man's arm that had quickly turned into a piece of meat when I peeled his skin off bit by bit. "But you know how it is when you have a quality woman waiting for you."
"Please stop," Miguel's dealer begged, his eyes fixated on where his tattooed skin sat on the floor.
"Then tell me what Miguel is planning to do."
"He's leaving town! It isn't worth it for him! He has conflicts rising down in Georgia, and he can't afford the war on both fronts." I stopped carving, leaning back on my knees to look at Matteo and study his reaction to the man's confession. We could handle Tiernan Murphy, and we could probably handle Miguel Cuevas too, but Murphy would be a much easier war to win than the Cuevas cartel.
"What's so important down in Georgia that he would choose that over a trafficking ring in Chicago?" Simon asked, stepping forward to kick the fleshy part of the man's arm.
I hadn't bothered to learn his name. It wouldn't matter when he was dead, anyway.
His scream soothed a little of my wariness about being away from Calla for so long, so soon.
"A woman! It's a woman! He's fucking obsessed with the bitch, but she just won't come to heel. He doesn't need the attention she'll bring, but he can't seem to stay away from her." I stood, brushing off my pants. I felt confident that Matteo wouldn't be interested in any more garbage, because if what the guy said was true, there was nothing we could do.
As much as I might want to, we couldn't step in on behalf of a woman we'd never met.
"He's in trafficking. Why hasn't he just taken her?" Simon asked.
"She's the seventeen-year-old daughter of some Governor in his pocket. If he touches a hair on her head, he'll lose the support in Georgia. He's almost ready to take that step, but he can't do that and fight here too."
"So he's playing the doting boyfriend for her Daddy?" I asked, and fury built in my veins. I knew what Miguel Cuevas was capable of.
The poor girl would wish she was dead the moment Miguel owned her.
Matteo nodded, glancing at me like he thought I might lose my shit.
A few years ago, I might have paid her a visit and warned her. But now I had Calla and the kids to worry about, and I had to keep them safe over everything else.
Even if it broke a piece of me.
"Sandro?" Matteo called, and one of Matteo's guys stepped in the door. He was young, working his way up the ranks, but had already proven himself trustworthy. "Monitor him overnight. We'll see if he has anything else to say in the morning. Wrap up his arm so he doesn't bleed out."
"Yes, Boss," Sandro grunted, moving to grab a cloth out of the corner. It was filthy, but it didn't matter.
The guy would be dead long before infection could set in.
✽✽✽
Why Matteo had ridden with me that day, I couldn't fathom. "So?" he asked when I didn't seem ready to be chatty.
Apparently marriage had turned Matteo into the king of gossip.
"So?" I grunted back, shifting the gears in my Maserati. Simon followed with Matteo's Aston behind us, and the way he smiled behind the steering wheel made him look like a kid th
at had been given the keys to the kingdom.
"How is she? What you hoped?" he asked.
"Been two days," I muttered.
His grin faded. "Right." A look crossed over his face, and I knew he probably reflected on Ivory's first two days after he'd forced her to move into his home.
"She's not the moping kind. I have to worry more that she'll kill me while I sleep," I said. That brought the dark grin back to his face.
"Scar says you barely sleep, so that might prove challenging." I turned the corner to the driveway, breathing out a sigh of relief when the Estate came into view. Still standing strong, and none of the guards looked panicked like I might have expected had my woman somehow escaped.
I glanced at him out of the side of my eye, feeling my lips tip up in a smile that made him jerk his head back in shock. "I didn't say she'd be successful."
He barked a brief laugh, furrowing his brow at me as he tried to understand who I was. When the gate opened up, I drove through, and Matteo didn't stand a chance in getting out of the car before me. I threw it in park, jumping out and storming into the house.
I needed my woman. Needed to know that she hadn't left me or been hurt. I knew she couldn't logically. Nobody got in or out of Matteo's house without him knowing. But old habits were hard to break, old hurts hard to shake.
When my eyes landed on her entire body shaking as she giggled on the stool of the island, and sipped what looked to be her fourth mimosa if her swaying body was any sign, my chest sagged in relief. It fled the next moment when she pitched to the side, jarred out of her stool by Sadie's playful shove. "You're such a lightweight!" Sadie giggled, and Samara reached over to stabilize Calla but missed.
I closed the distance between us, scooping my Sunshine up before she could hit the ground. "You're drunk, Tesoro," I whispered, when she chuckled against me.
There was zero chance of me getting inside her that night. Not with the way alcohol gave her headaches if she drank and didn't go right to bed.
"You ready to go get Ines?" I asked her, and she squirmed in my arms. Like she'd be able to walk on her own. "How much did she drink?"
"Three mimosas," Ivory answered when Matteo came up behind her and tugged her into his arms for a kiss. It was the kind of kiss Calla would have thought indecent, but she'd get over that when the time came.
I'd claim her in front of anyone and everyone as soon as she was ready. Whether she liked it or not.
After he'd sufficiently kissed his wife into a stupor, he moved to Don and snatched his daughter out of his arms. "Hey, Little Moon," he whispered, and I watched Calla's eyes drift over to the interaction with longing.
She'd always wanted three kids.
She'd have them soon enough.
I carried her over to the more stable chairs in the dining area where she could still peek in on the kitchen and watch Matteo with Luna. I wasn't against encouraging that desire for another baby. Matteo grinned at me as I settled her, walking over with a calmer gait than the man usually accomplished.
Normally he didn’t give a rat’s ass who he terrified, but apparently he could take the time to be slightly understanding of Calla’s position.
“Calla,” he said in that guttural voice. Calla’s head immediately lifted, and she stared at the baby in his arms with shocked eyes for a moment before her mouth dropped open.
She whispered a quiet, “Holy shit,” to which Matteo only grinned in response.
“Sunshine, this is my boss Matteo,” I introduced, though it seemed very obvious that the man needed no introduction. If Luna hadn’t been enough of a sign of who Matteo was, then the fact that the man’s face was in the news often probably was.
“Nice to meet you,” she whispered, staring at the door in longing.
“Angel!” he barked suddenly, spinning to face his wife who bit her lip anxiously. “What did you tell her? She’s terrified.”
Ivory stifled her giggle, glancing down at Calla’s pale face. “Did it occur to you, my darling husband, that perhaps you just give off that psychopath vibe?”
“She’s sleeping with Ryker,” Matteo returned, turning to me. His expression was pleading, and I knew he wanted me to agree with him. Undoubtedly, I was scarier at first glance.
But not by much.
I ignored him, knowing that I needed to get Calla home before she truly lost her sanity. "I just need to talk to Scar for a minute, Tesoro," I murmured, tucking her ice blond hair behind her ear when she rolled her eyes at me.
"I behaaavved," she said, and though the words were drawn out, she didn't slur. She was always so good with her words, even when she was drunk. It made sense, since she thought they were her greatest weapon.
She didn't understand that I was her greatest weapon.
With a chuckle, I turned away from the gaping women and went for where Scar just stood watching like he'd found a reality show. He followed me into the sitting room. Simon passed us as we went, and I made a mental note to hurry the conversation along. There was zero chance Simon wouldn’t annoy her. "She give you any trouble?" I asked.
"None. They gossiped, told her to just let it happen, and hinted that she wants to fuck you. Then they got her drunk. Sadie said they were lowering her inhibitions so she could 'ride your meatballs until the sun came up.'"
I hung my head, sighing at the floor. Thanks to Sunshine, everyone would be talking about my meatballs.
Meatballs. A monster metal dick.
My junk was getting more and more strange by the day. If I didn't show her my cock soon, the next thing I knew, she'd claim it spit marinara.
"You going to let her ride your meatballs, Ryke?" Scar asked, trying to contain his laughter.
"Shut the fuck up," I laughed. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her."
"You know I've got your back. You deserve to be happy. She's the only person who gives you that." He shrugged, but I knew him well enough to know exactly what went through his head.
He didn't deserve the same happiness, even if our situations had been similar.
"You do too. You'll find her someday. She'll come out of nowhere and that will be that," I grunted, stepping back to the dining room to grab my woman so we could go get our kids.
Sure enough, Simon had made himself welcome in her space at the table, leaning in and whispering something to her. I fought back the rage boiling my blood. Simon was one crazy fuck, I’d give him that. But he wasn’t stupid.
He’d never think to touch what was mine, and as I got closer, it became increasingly obvious. He was close, but not a single part of him touched her. She giggled at whatever shit show he told her, and then he stepped back to smile at the thunderous look on my face.
“I was just telling Calla that you like to paint in your free time,” Simon said, his face contorting into a laugh. I instantly wanted to strangle him.
The only paintings I did were in blood.
“I think it’s time to go get Ines, Sunshine,” I murmured, closing the little distance between us and grabbing her hands. I lifted her until she stepped into my chest. I felt the room go still when I leaned over her to touch my lips to the top of her head. My heart rate and the anger that always pulsed through every muscle in my body instantly dissipated once I had my Sunshine back in my arms. She chased away the shadows.
“Why don’t you two stay for dinner?” Matteo asked with a chuckle, but I leveled him with a glare. I had no intention of staying any longer, and the man knew it.
Calla tilted her head back up to look at me, her smile extra crooked with the alcohol altering her state of being.
I was ready to be back in our sanctuary.
Alone. Just the four of us.
Home.
Seventeen
Calla
He was a party pooper.
Practically carrying me to the car, he deposited me in the passenger seat with a disgruntled breath. I fumbled for the seat belt as my head lolled to the side, staring up at those bright blue eyes as he swatted my hand away in annoyance
and took the seat belt into his own hands.
Stretching up with an arm, I touched my fingertips to his mouth.
Bubble butt. Pillow lips.
Everything about the man was a temptation. When his mouth dropped open in a moment of shock, he let go of the belt to fixate on my face as I touched him. With my finger caressing the flat tops of his bottom teeth, he nipped at it sharply until I withdrew with a pout. “You should be very careful, Tesoro. I’m not a man you should toy with.”
“I don’t know how to toy with a man,” I admitted with a whisper. The reality of it was like a crushing weight on my chest. A more experienced woman might have known how to play with Ryker’s attraction and gain freedom in that, but even in my happy haze of drunk sexual energy, I knew that wasn’t me.
That wasn’t us.
He’d chew me up and spit me out when he finished with me, and somehow he’d make me love every minute. Where there should have only been hate and frustration, all that remained in my buzz was the lingering effect of my attraction to a dangerous man I could never have.
Even if it seemed like I already did, we’d never stay.
Never last.
When he grabbed the seat belt and tugged it across me again, I leaned in and touched my lips to his cheek. He clenched his eyes closed like he wanted to ignore me, but he couldn’t when I snatched his arm up as he pulled away. That massive hand seemed so large in mine as I entwined our fingers and guided it to the neckline of my shirt. He swallowed, and I smiled at him as I guided his fingers to slip beneath the fabric and into my bra so he cupped the top curve of my breast.
“Calla,” he warned.
I pouted up at him. “Sunshine,” I whispered. “I’m your Sunshine.”
His eyes flared with heat at my acceptance of my nickname. “Sunshine, you’ll regret this when you’re sober.”
“Then let's make it worth it,” I whispered with a smile, guiding his hand further until the rough tips of his middle finger grazed the pucker of my nipple.
Grieved Loss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 3) Page 12