I knew that look. This girl was afraid, which put me further on edge. While Jayce was oblivious to anything but the redhead with big tits standing in front of him, I was keenly aware of our surroundings. I didn’t think anything would go down in such a public place, but you could never be too sure where my father’s enemies were concerned. It’d been a few months since anyone had tried to move against us, but I knew it was only a matter of time until that relative peace shattered.
Grabbing her arm, I dragged the girl away from the group. I expected her to yelp or alert her friends to what was happening, but instead, she pressed her lips into a tight line while those shifty eyes of hers narrowed to angry slits.
Jerking out of my grip, she hissed, “Get your fucking hands off me.”
“Who are you, and why are you acting so suspicious?” I demanded, closing in on her until she had nowhere to go.
With the wall firmly at her back, she raised her eyes and flicked them between my own questioningly. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
I couldn’t be certain, but she sounded almost hurt.
“No,” I bit out. “And if I did, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?”
Our gazes locked in heated battle for a handful of seconds. Eventually, she breathed out a defeated sigh.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” I agreed, bending forward so my mouth was close to her ear. “And I don’t want to have to ask again.”
To outside observers, we’d look two horny kids making out at the mall, but I had her caged in so that the only way she could get away would be to take me down. And there was no way this little slip of a thing would be able to do that.
When the girl rested her hands against my chest, a jolt of white-hot desire shot through my body straight to my dick. When she sucked in a breath and her eyes widened into saucers, I knew she felt it too. Suddenly, her name didn’t matter and the threat of danger seemed unimportant. When she licked her lips and stared at me with doe eyes gone hazy with lust, the crowds and the noise and everything around us ceased to exist.
It was just me and this girl, and I wanted her.
“Fuck,” I whispered, as I wrapped my hand around the base of her skull and pulled her into me. I planted my mouth on hers, and when she stiffened, I stepped closer and pulled her flush against my body. “Kiss me back,” I commanded.
Hesitantly, her lips began to move … as if she didn’t know what to do, or couldn’t believe what was happening. I traced my tongue along the seam of her lips, and when she gasped, I licked my way inside her mouth. When her tongue danced tentatively against mine, I took the kiss deeper. I stepped into her, the hard length of my cock pressing against her soft contours, and when I rolled my hips, she whimpered into my mouth and her hands glided up my chest to lock around my neck.
Time stood still as our kiss continued, and I forgot about everything and everyone around me—who I was, the things I’d done, the horrors I’d commit in the name of my family—and simply focused on the pleasure I found in this girl’s arms.
I’d never felt such peace as I did in that moment, but like all good things, it had to end.
“Arabella! Arabella! Quick, he’s coming!” A hand clutched my shoulder and tried to yank me away.
With a growl, I locked my angel against me and, as if by instinct, turned to fight off the intruder.
Her friend jumped back but didn’t retreat. “Quick, Arabella. We have to go.” She reached around me and grabbed Arabella’s hand and tugged. “If he sees you with him—” the brave girl notched her chin my direction “—we’re all dead, and you know it. We shouldn’t have even come here.”
The girl’s words managed to claw their way through my lustful stupor, and when I realized what I’d heard, my heart stopped, plummeted, and then surged upward into my throat. My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and a surge of adrenaline coursed through me and ignited my rage. Swiveling back around to face the girl I’d been kissing for dear life just moments before, I leveled her with an angry glare. Undaunted by my fury, she raised her chin and glared back.
“You said you knew who I was. You didn’t say how.”
“You didn’t ask,” she volleyed.
“No, I didn’t,” I agreed through clenched teeth, incensed at the both of us. Her for playing coy, and me for not pressing the issue before losing myself in her.
“You should have told me, Arabella.”
“If I had, you wouldn’t have kissed me.”
“You’re right; I wouldn’t have. I would have walked away, and never looked back.”
“Arabella!” her friend whisper-shouted from behind me. “Come on. I mean it, we have to go.”
“Whoever’s coming, stall him,” I bit out.
I wanted answers, and that meant Arabella wasn’t leaving until she gave them to me. If that meant coming face to face with her goons, then so be it. I’d dealt with worse in the past, and would likely do so again in the future.
“I’ll try,” her friend answered uncertainly. “But I’m warning you; this could turn ugly.”
“Life is ugly,” I replied, never taking my eyes off the devil in an angel’s disguise. “The sooner you learn that the better off you’ll be.”
Arabella leaned around me and spoke to her friend. “Tell him I’m in the bathroom. Try to get him to go to the video game store. It’s the only thing that’ll distract him. Tell him you want to buy your boyfriend a game, but you’re not sure which one. That should give me a few minutes. I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”
I watched her face as she delivered her message, looking for signs of deceit or treachery. When I didn’t detect them, I relaxed my stance and waited for her friend to leave. I wanted to believe what Arabella said, but I didn’t know if my intuition could be trusted. I’d already behaved stupidly where this girl was concerned, and it could have gotten me killed. Fuck, it could have gotten us all killed.
I needed to be on my guard because where Arabella Wilson was concerned, I couldn’t be trusted to do the right thing. The smart thing. The safe thing. She was in my blood now, and like a junkie, I wanted more. And I was worried I might be willing to do just about anything to get it. Including standing there, with my back turned, while her bodyguard searched the mall for her. Every part of me wanted to turn and face the open expanse, but I stayed planted where I was, almost like I was daring him to come at me.
“It’s okay,” she said, leaning back against the wall and staring up at me. “I’ll let you know if I see him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grunted.
“Sure you do,” she answered. “It’s written all over your face.”
Like hell it was.
If there was one skill I had above all others, it was keeping my emotions locked away so no one ever knew what I was thinking or feeling. She would see nothing I didn’t let her. And I certainly didn’t want her knowing I was at war with myself over whether or not to trust her. To trust myself.
Except she saw right through me.
“You know that leaving your back exposed to the enemy is the stupidest fucking thing you could do, and yet you haven’t turned to scan the area. Not even once. You want to, but you want to know why I let you kiss me more—why I kissed you back—and you’re willing to risk your life to find out. That’s brave, Xander. Or very, very stupid.” She tsked. Standing tall and proud, she finished, “But like I said, I’ll let you know when it’s time to run.”
Clenching my large, calloused hands around her bare upper arms, I shook her just enough to rattle her. This was serious fucking business, and the sooner she understood that, the better off we’d both be. “You better start explaining yourself, Arabella. What sort of game are you playing?”
Her eyes glinting with steel, she took a step forward, crossing the space that separated us so that our bodies practically touched. “Get your hands off me and I’ll tell you.”
As if she’d burned me with her words, I
unleashed her and stepped back.
“Much better,” she gloated. “I liked you more when you looked at me like I was some sweet treat you wanted to gobble up.”
“And I liked you better when I didn’t know who you were,” I volleyed back.
Hurt flashed briefly across her features before she smiled ruefully. “I’m sure you did, but can you blame me?”
“Can I blame you for tricking me? Yes, I can.”
“Oh, come off it, Xander. If you had waited another minute, I would have told you who I was. Need I remind you that it was you who approached me? That it was you who kissed me? You didn’t want to know who I was any more than I wanted to tell you. The only difference between us is that I knew what we were doing was wrong whereas you simply didn’t care.”
“If you knew, why’d you let me?”
“Honestly?” she asked.
“Yes, honestly. And if you fucking lie to me, I’ll know.”
Arabella eyed me speculatively for a few beats and then shrugged. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not. I know you’re a man of many talents—trust me, I’ve heard all about it—but I’m not without my own skills. You’d be wise to remember that.”
I could have argued with her, but that would have been a giant waste of precious time. She might be the best goddamn femme fatale on the face of the planet, but that didn’t matter in that moment. I needed to know why she’d let me kiss her, and why she hadn’t already tried to get me murdered. The seconds ticked by and her friend could only stall for so long. Hell, the fact that her bodyguard hadn’t already laid me out cold just proved Royce needed to invest in some better henchmen to guard his most prized asset.
“Cut the act and answer the goddamned question or we’re through here.”
“Fine,” she hissed, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “But you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“I’m sure that’s the only truthful thing you’ve said since we met.”
“Met again,” she stressed, reminding me of the day we’d played side-by-side as if our families weren’t mortal enemies.
“Fine, met again,” I concurred, my anger somewhat abating at the memory of a bold, brash, pig-tailed girl with skinned knees and a sharp wit.
Briefly, her eyes flicked between mine, searching, and I raised my brows in question.
“That’s why,” she answered softly, knowingly. “For that one moment in time, you were my friend.”
Like a moon drawn to Arabella’s gravitational pull, I stepped closer. This time when I laid my hands on her, it wasn’t in anger. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me, but I was compelled to touch her, to have her skin pressed against mine.
I needed that connection.
“You’re not my friend, Arabella,” I reminded her on a whisper.
Our eyes locked, and she licked her lips and nodded her understanding. “I know.”
“We can’t ever be friends,” I pointed out.
“I know that too.”
“I have plenty of friends.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I don’t need any more friends,” I murmured as I stroked my hands up and down her arms, her skin pebbling beneath my touch.
“Neither do I,” she breathed.
“But fuck me, I want you just the same,” I cursed, dropping my lips to hers in a feather-light kiss. “Tell me to stop,” I warned her after a few more passes of my lips against hers.
“Don’t stop, Xander,” she smiled against my mouth. “Please don’t ever stop.”
“Arabella!” came the roar from behind me seconds later, snapping us both to attention. “Where the fuck are you, goddamnit?!” her bodyguard shouted as he thundered down the corridor.
“Fuck!” I grimaced, realizing how close we’d come to getting caught.
From the startled and angry exclamations coming from other shoppers, I didn’t think he’d seen us yet, giving me just enough time to slip away before he spotted Arabella in the arms of some guy he didn’t know. I should have high-tailed it out of there, but I couldn’t make my feet move. Instead, I cradled Arabella’s face in my palms and placed one last, lingering kiss on her lips.
“This isn’t over,” I promised her.
And then I ran.
That afternoon was the beginning of what turned out to be the best year of my life. Every chance Arabella and I had to spend together, we took it. Whether it was fifteen stolen minutes, or entire days holed up away from the rest of the world, each spare minute we had was reserved for the other. We understood the giant risk we took, but nothing could have kept us away from each other.
That was, until everything fell apart.
Chapter Three
By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
William Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet
Almost a year to the day after that first kiss, Arabella collapsed in my arms, tears streaming down her face, and told me that she was pregnant. Her father was sending her away to have our baby and forcing her to give it up for adoption. She’d refused to tell him who the father was, and he’d refused to let her live in his house until “that thing” was out of her. I’d asked her not to go, begged her to marry me right then and there. I wanted us to run away and lead normal lives away from the bullshit we’d grown up surrounded by, but she’d told me that was madness.
Years later, I could admit there was nowhere we could have run that our families wouldn’t have found us and dragged us back, but at the time I couldn’t see past my anger. I was furious at the world, her father, my father … but most of all at Arabella herself.
The day before she left, I managed to smuggle a note to her through a deliveryman who owed me a favor. In it, I said if she went away, I never wanted to see or speak to her again. That if she took away my child, she was as good as dead to me.
She never responded.
Four months later, I heard through the grapevine that she’d returned.
I hadn’t wanted to care, but I couldn’t help it. Even though she’d nearly destroyed me, I was still in love with her. Knowing my baby was growing in her belly, I was maybe even more in love with her than I’d been before. And although I’d told her I never wanted to speak to her again, I waited for her to get in touch with me.
And then I waited some more.
When I thought I would go insane with waiting, I drove out to the middle of fucking nowhere to call her from a payphone. The first time I called, the phone rang, and rang, and rang some more. For two hours, I kept calling, hoping for a different outcome. Finally, Arabella picked up.
I hadn’t the known what to expect, but I hadn’t been prepared for her to tell me she’d had a miscarriage and that our baby girl was dead.
“I’m sorry, Xander,” she’d sobbed, “but we should never have been together. This is our punishment.”
I didn’t—couldn’t—believe that. Our daughter would have been the exact opposite of punishment—she would have been a fucking benediction. Creating her was the best thing I’d ever done. But, like her mother, she too had been taken from me by that bastard Royce Wilson.
My whole life, I hadn’t cared about our feud with the Wilsons any more than I did any other St. John skirmishes. As far as I was concerned, they were just thorns in our side to be dealt with as necessary. But that afternoon, I vowed to get my revenge, to take from him as he’d taken from me.
Three weeks later, one of his nephew’s heads arrived in a box on his doorstep, a stamp marking the contents as urgent. No one stepped forward to claim the kill, but he had to suspect it was a St. John special delivery. A year later, another Wilson’s eyeballs made its way to his office. That time, I’d signed the note myself.
And thus, our petty squabbles became an all-out war. I had no idea if Royce knew why I’d made it my mission in life to destroy his f
amily—no idea if he knew the baby Arabella had been carrying was mine—but after a time, I didn’t care anymore. For his part, my father had no clue why I was so hell-bent on destroying the Wilsons; he just loved that I was.
And yet, for everything that had gone down between us, the family patriarchs had an unspoken rule: children were sacrosanct.
That was, until yesterday. Until Jayce ordered me to kill Royce’s daughter, the only woman I’d ever loved.
And even though she was the same woman who’d made me want to die a thousand times over, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t snuff her out the way our daughter’s life had been snuffed out all those years before.
But if I didn’t, Jayce would come after me.
Once, a long time ago, I’d chosen my love for Arabella over my loyalty to family. Now, I’d have to make the same decision. Who would I betray—Jayce or Arabella?
Both were my enemy, and yet each of them was ingrained in my soul. Arabella had carried my child in her belly; I’d shared our mother’s womb with Jayce. No matter my choice, I knew a part of me would die right along with them.
So, who would it be? My brother or my lover? My darkness or my light?
* * *
I sat in a cheap motel off the highway in a one-stoplight town that catered to truck drivers and hookers, the phone I hadn’t used in almost eight years cradled in my right hand, while a new burner phone I’d bought yesterday sat on the bed to my left. On the nightstand, I’d left a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting in a bucket of melting ice. I was drunk, but not so drunk that I could ignore the dull ache that had taken up residence in my gut and refused to leave no matter how many anti-acids I chomped down. The whiskey didn’t help, but I needed it more than I needed my stomach lining, so there you go.
I knew what I had to do, but until I acted one way or the other, I could always change my mind. Until I sent the text I’d typed out and erased a thousand times in the last few days, things could always go the other way.
Except I knew they wouldn’t.
Secrets and Lies: A Forbidden Mafia Romance Page 2