The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

  “She says she’s not seeing him, but I don’t care either way.”

  It was his turn to raise a brow. “Then why do you want to know if I hired her?”

  In my most I don’t really care tone, I answered, “Just curious. She seems pretty smart. I might learn something from her.” That was a lie. She had big tits and I wanted to feel them, along with the rest of her body.

  “Well, as a matter of fact, I did. And everything else aside, inter-office romances, for lack of a better word, are never good business.”

  I kicked my feet up again against the chair in front of me and crossed my arms. “Who said anything about romance?”

  He rose from the captain’s chair he fit so well in and swatted me across the head. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

  My grandfather might not have finished high school, but he was the smartest man I knew. With a shrug, I looked at him and answered truthfully. “I’m not. I’m dead serious.” I didn’t elaborate. I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, but I knew if I told him that I was just hoping to score, that wouldn’t help me get the job.

  The huff of laughter he gave me as he sat down beside me warned me another one of his stories was coming. “Well, there’s something going on in that head of yours and I think its fair time I warned you . . . beware of the power of the dame.”

  With a glance in his direction, I rolled my eyes. “Gramps, please, anything but the birds and the bees.”

  I’d been jerking off for enough time now that I understood how everything worked. I didn’t need him explaining it to me—again.

  He shook his head and kicked his own feet up. “It happens before you know it. A woman can pull you in and get under your skin just like that. We all like to think we’re immune, but before we know it we’re under their spell. And then they own you in a way you never would have thought possible.”

  “That won’t happen to me. I’m not interested in dealing with chicks that way. Relationships are way too much work.”

  The sky was the perfect shade of black and twinkling with stars as he stared up at it and closed his eyes. “Yes, they are a lot of work, but learning to appreciate the beauty and the beast within women will take you far. It’s something I can’t drum into you enough.”

  The laughter bubbled out of me. “Did you just say beast?”

  Slowly, he opened his eyes and he looked my way. “Let me tell you a little story.”

  I settled in. This could take a while.

  “All women are beasts. You just have to know how to tame them or when to let them go.”

  “Come on, Gramps, that sounds ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s not. Let me tell you a little story about a woman who tore dozens of men apart. If that’s not a beast, I don’t know what is.”

  I nodded. “Go on.”

  “Many years ago there were these two gangs. Both were up-and-coming, both fighting for the biggest piece of the pie. Punch Leary was the head of the Charlestown Mob and he thought he could annihilate the Savin Hill Gang by distracting Mickey O’Shea.”

  “Distract him how?”

  Gramps was shaking his head. “By going after his wife.”

  “What happened?”

  “What happened, my boy, was a full-blown war. That wife of Mickey’s was a dame, a tramp, but it didn’t matter. Mickey O’Shea didn’t react the way Punchy thought. He wasn’t distracted; he was determined. And he went berserk. Kidnapped Leary and held him captive in some greenhouse miles from the city and slowly beat him to death. Kept him alive long enough to kill his entire crew. And he didn’t just annihilate them; he stalked them. Made them aware of what was coming. One by one, he taunted them, black roses showing up everywhere, letting them know they should dread the upcoming day. It went on until every last one of that gang was killed and then finally Punchy.”

  Curiosity got me. “How’d those guys let things get so far out of hand?”

  His dark eyes blazed with memory. “It was the beast. That woman. Savin Hill wasn’t going to stand for another man trying to take one of their women. After that the Charlestown Mob vanished, but the war incapacitated Savin Hill so much they didn’t survive too much longer, and it was all over some broad. Now, I’m not saying she wasn’t gorgeous, because she was. Regardless, what I’m trying to tell you is that there have been wars waged over taking, or even attempting to take, another man’s dame. Never get involved with a claimed woman, even if she’s Helen of Troy. Come to think of it, especially if she’s Helen of Troy.”

  Greek mythology had been the curriculum for my entire last half of eighth grade. For once, here was a topic I knew all too well and I couldn’t keep my smart ass from rearing. “Moral of the story, then: beware of the Trojan, and not the one that comes in the small square foil.”

  My grandfather took my arms and pulled me closer to him. “No, Logan, this is no joke. Listen to me, and listen to me well—kill a man’s dog, he’ll kill your best friend; kill a man’s brother, he’ll kill your mother; take a man’s girl, and he’ll kill you.”

  He looked so serious I couldn’t help but flinch. “Gramps, I’m not interested in Molly that way. It is really too much bullshit to deal with. Chicks just aren’t worth it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  Silence filled the space between us as he let go of my arms. And then his hearty laughter echoed through the night sky. “Mark my words . . . someday you’ll change your mind.”

  My phone buzzed and I carefully pulled it out of my pocket to sneak a peek. It was James and the text read, I finally scored.

  “See, you know I’m right,” my grandfather gloated.

  The smile on my face wasn’t meant for Gramps, but he didn’t know that and I wasn’t about to tell him what it was for.

  The lecture that would ensue would be endless.

  And I’d had enough of those for one night.

  The wind picked up and snapped me back. My mind still a whirl, I tried to think this through. If Mickey had sought retribution for someone messing around with his wife, what would he have done if he killed his wife because of another guy—because of Patrick Flannigan?

  Even if Frank didn’t think so, Mickey O’Shea could very well be the kingpin to this entire operation. He had motive and reason to go after Flannigan. But why wait so long? It didn’t make sense.

  The Priest was someone, and if not Mickey, who? Michael? Payback for his mother’s death? Or someone else entirely?

  I didn’t know the answers but was going to find them out. Frank gave Miles some names of former Dorchester Heights Gang members and he was going to ask around. We had to be close. There were too many coincidences. Too many connections. Too many deaths. And way too many threatening phone calls.

  Shuddering, I moved faster through the alley. Elle’s hand was safely in mine. I needed to get us away from here, from the chaos. I had to escape this madness if only for the night. Still, even as I thought it, I knew it wouldn’t happen. Elle had to stay out of this. She shouldn’t be taking risks. I had to convince her. Before we turned the corner onto Tremont Street, I stopped. “We need to talk.”

  Elle was shaking her head. “Logan, I know what you’re going to say and you know I can’t stay out of it. I have to protect that little girl, now more than ever. What if Lizzy married Michael because he was like our father? I don’t remember what my father was like with us when we were little. Maybe he was just as loving as Michael is with Clementine now. And where will that leave her?”

  Elle was practically hysterical and although I didn’t want to understand her driving need, I did. In fact, I felt protective over Clementine myself.

  “I have to be there for her, to make sure nothing bad happens to her.”

  I pinned Elle against the brick wall. I needed to calm her down. Standing in front of her, I looked down into her terrified stare. “I promise you I will help you to ensure she grows up happy, healthy, and normal.”

  Her eyes burned into mine. “You can’t make me that promise, Logan. There is no w
ay you can do that. This is all me. I have to do this myself.”

  The scent of her skin, the warmth in her tone, the pull of her body—they were all I needed to reassure myself that I could do this, that I could help her. I had to. I pressed my hands to the wall above her head. “Elle, I don’t want you to do anything tomorrow when you go visit Clementine. It’s too dangerous. Let Miles and me figure out a way to get the information we need and deliver it to Blanchet.”

  She shook her head violently, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I know I’m the reason you’re in this situation with the DEA, why you’re still involved, but you can’t do anything with what you find out about Michael until I secure Clementine’s future. I mean it, Logan. You can’t.”

  I lifted her chin. “Hey, don’t cry.”

  Her head dropped to my shoulder and she started babbling. “If something happens to Michael, I don’t know what will happen to Clementine. I won’t be able to live with myself knowing I might have been the one to wreck her entire life.”

  I pulled back. “Hey, that’s not going to happen.”

  “It might. I don’t think Michael has named anyone as her guardian yet. If he goes to prison, she could become a ward of the state until custody is determined.”

  “He hadn’t filed—”

  She cut me off. “Promise me, Logan. Promise me.”

  I clasped my hands to her face. I couldn’t stand to see her so upset. “I promise, Elle. I promise.”

  Her eyes were wild now. “Even if Michael catches me, he won’t hurt me. He has no idea about the two of us and besides . . .” Her voice dropped off.

  “Besides what?” I asked.

  She stared at me for the longest time and then dropped her gaze. “He wants me to move in with him. He thinks I can help him become DA and then judge. He said if I do that, I can be a bigger part of Clementine’s life. That I could help raise her.”

  The words were unexpected. They were like a hard punch to the gut, and once again I couldn’t breathe. “What the hell are you talking about?” I bit out.

  She flinched at the harshness in my tone. “When I thought you left me, I spent the weekend at his house and he made me a proposition—if he could have me, I could have Clementine.”

  Everything around me seemed to be moving. The earth was no longer steady. There was a great divide between Elle and me. My world felt like it was falling apart. I fixed her with a turbulent look. “He . . . propositioned you? And what, you’ve been considering it while fucking me?”

  “What?” she asked in shock.

  I said it again. “Have you been considering his proposition while fucking me?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

  My hands went back to their position above her head and I pounded my fists against the concrete. “You didn’t answer me, Elle.”

  There was a hesitation in her movement when her palms lifted toward my chest. I wasn’t certain if she was touching me. I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb. She lifted her head to the sky. I did too. It was filled with a million twinkling lights and if I could reach up and grab some, I’d hand them all to her and assure her everything would be all right.

  But I couldn’t.

  A horrible sense of foreboding washed over me. She was going to accept his proposal. My gaze swept her, lingered on her lips, and I could see that truth in the way her green eyes dulled, in the way her shoulders slumped, in the way she had yet to touch me.

  Outrage burned in my blood. “Why won’t you answer me,” I demanded.

  Her eyes flashed to mine but she just stood there, staring at me, saying nothing.

  Something in the air shifted.

  I was losing control again.

  I couldn’t stand the thought. I knew I was being too loud. I knew I shouldn’t be so hostile. I knew what she was going to say. And that was just it: she was everything to me, and I was going to lose her.

  With that thought in my mind, I turned and started for my vehicle. Oddly enough, I yearned for the day when I thought I was the threat to her safety. When her being with me was the problem, because at least then I had a solution.

  She grabbed my upper arm. I thought she meant to slap me or push me—I wasn’t sure. I froze. Her touch was doing something to me, snapping me out of the daze I was in. She placed her other hand on my other arm and stood in front of me, staring at me like I was the devil. I think she was talking, but the blood was swooshing so loud in my ears, I couldn’t hear.

  I was going to lose her.

  I’d just found her and I was going to lose her.

  She shook me. “Don’t do this, Logan. Don’t shut down on me,” she pleaded.

  I’d lost myself in my thoughts.

  “I love you. Nothing has changed. I only told you that so you could understand that I’m not in danger around Michael. That I can use what he wants to get closer but I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. Never. Do you understand me?”

  I blinked. “You’re not going to agree to his terms?”

  Without hesitation she placed her palms on my chest. “No. I could never do that. I love you too much to lose you. But you have to trust me. You have to let me get closer to him. I’ll stall him while I secure my place in Clementine’s future.”

  I stroked my thumb over her bottom lip. “As long as he keeps his hands off you, I will try to come to terms with the plan Miles has laid out. But Elle, if he so much as touches a hair on your head . . . I might just kill him.”

  And this time, I meant it. I might not have had enough resolve to kill Tommy Flannigan with my bare hands, but if O’Shea violated Elle in any way, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

  Her hands slid up my chest and dug into my shoulders. “He won’t, Logan, I know he won’t. He won’t force me to do anything. He’s not like that with me.”

  She was trying to convince me or maybe she was trying to convince herself, but either way, it wasn’t as if I had a choice. “Okay, Elle, I’ll go along with it as long as you promise to be careful.”

  She lifted on her toes and kissed me sweetly, softly. “I love you,” she said again.

  This time I said it back. “I love you, too.”

  I just hoped it was enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  DAY 34

  ELLE

  His breathing was steady and I timed mine to his.

  In.

  Out.

  I’d been awake for hours, talking myself off the ledge I’d found myself balancing on.

  I was worrying my lip.

  I hadn’t lied to Logan, but I also wasn’t certain about what I’d told him.

  I told him what I thought to be true. And the whispers in my head said everything was going to be all right. It was the logic in my brain that told a different story. I wasn’t quite sure Michael wasn’t going to pressure me the way I’d convinced Logan he wasn’t. My hope was that I could continue to stall him while convincing him Clementine’s future needed to be secured.

  I had no idea if I could pull it off.

  Lying on my side, watching him, I put my hand to Logan’s chest and felt the beat of his heart. It was strong and unfaltering like him, and it helped to soothe my ravaged nerves.

  His hand on my back started to stroke my skin, and that, too, soothed me.

  He’d woken up. I knew I shouldn’t have stirred him before dawn, but he’d already told me he had to leave early and I needed him this morning.

  As if he could sense this need, or maybe because he just needed me too, he kissed my head and then disentangled himself from my limbs so he could slide down to face me. On one elbow, he said, “Good morning. You’re up early.”

  I kissed his lips. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  I was done not being honest.

  My signal must have been crystal clear because his mouth latched onto mine instantly.

  He’d made love to me once last night and fucked me twice. Laying claim to me in a way he didn’t have to. I was alre
ady his—heart, mind, body, and soul. There was no denying it.

  His lips continued to move against mine, but the kiss was slow and sweet.

  Wanting more, faster, I thrust my tongue inside his mouth and then took his hand and placed it on my breast.

  “Elle.” He whispered my name against my mouth.

  “Logan,” I breathed.

  His thumb started rubbing my nipple to an aching tightness.

  He shifted and I clawed at his arms. I wanted this. I wanted him to bury his cock as far inside me as he could. I didn’t want slow and sweet, not this morning, I wanted hard and fast.

  For a moment, he stopped and just gazed at me. He, himself, was a sight. His chest ripped, smooth, gloriously defined. Arms perfectly shaped. Legs strong.

  My body pressed forward.

  When I made contact with his, he flipped me onto my back and hovered over me, fingers almost magical as they reached between us and found my clit.

  Caressing my pussy, his movements quickened, and then he started rolling my clit in little circles with his thumb while he tasted my mouth like he never had before. Desperate. Needy.

  I felt the same.

  A storm of desire hit me like a hurricane-force wind.

  My hand reached down and found his beautiful length. I stroked it. Felt it. Circled it. As soon as I did, he groaned in such ecstasy I was beyond turned on.

  “Logan,” I moaned breathlessly, thrusting my hips up to meet his cock.

  In an instant, he cupped me from behind and pulled me closer. I was all too happy to rub up against his hard, thick cock.

  “Not yet,” he whispered in my ear. He proceeded to tease me and kissed his way down my neck. When he reached my breasts he held them together to kiss the plumped flesh, both at the same time.

  The sheets felt warm beneath me but he felt even hotter. It was a heat I yearned for and one I knew would never burn me.

  His lips started to trail farther down my body and his throat made murmuring sounds of appreciation. No one had ever made me feel the way he did. Like I was special. Like I was the only thing that mattered. Like I was the one who kept his heart beating, his lungs breathing.