I stepped inside the office, preoccupied by the news, until a shadow looming in the corner had me reaching for my gun. Long dark hair, fruity-smelling perfume, and an hourglass shape gave her away right before I pulled the trigger. She had no business being here, not at a time like this, and definitely not with me, a potential suspect.
“Bad fucking idea, Bella,” I snarled, storming across the room.
“I had to see you, Darragh. It’s important,” she pleaded.
“More important than your husband getting wacked?” She inhaled sharply, surprised that I already knew the fucker was dead.
I didn’t have time for this shit.
“Leave. Now,” I ordered. “Take your ass out the same way you came in.”
A myriad of emotions flashed across her pretty face as she took in my words. Anger, from being dismissed so easily knowing I would’ve given my left nut back in the day to make her happy. Pride, when she realized I meant what the fuck I said and she had to regroup. Finally, disgust, as she prepared to show her true colors and state the real reason for her being here.
This woman.
I shook my head, moving as far away from her as possible.
Looking back on the past, I realized what a complete fool I’d been to think what we had was special. Bella took me for a long ride with my dick on a leash, and I was dumb enough to follow. All this time, and it had never dawned on me that she was the mastermind behind her marriage to O’Brien. What we’d had wasn’t love; it was usury, fuck boy by proxy.
I never saw it.
She was no prize, and I’d clearly dodged a bullet when she left me for someone else. Showing up here proved her only allegiance was to herself and certainly not to her now deceased husband. She watched me like a predator with her designer clothes, fancy red-bottomed shoes, and a sinister look in her eyes.
This bitch was hunting.
“Say what you came to say and get the fuck out, Bella. This is the last time I’m going to tell you to stop trying to contact me, for anything. The only reason I agreed to meet with you a few days ago was because you threatened suicide if I didn’t. I told you never again. We have no ties, and I want you out of here.”
“I-I…” she stuttered. “So, you know about Kallum?”
“Said I did.” I folded my arms over my chest hoping she’d get to the fucking point.
“I know this seems like bad timing, Darragh, but I had to see you right away.”
She took several steps towards me, like a viper ready to strike, fangs extended. She seductively licked her pouty lips stained in red as she smoothed down the front of her shirt, pushing her tits out, her intent clear. The thought of touching her repulsed me so much I snarled the closer she got to my body. Too close, and I’d shoot this bitch.
“Don’t you see, Darragh.” She stalked. “We don’t have to hide anymore. Kallum is dead. No one would question our match, especially now that you hold so much power within the organization. We can get married and combine our assets. I’m Kellan’s only heir, which means I get everything, including his circuit. We can stay together forever.”
“Are you insane, Bella? I’m not a part of the syndicate, nor am I ever going to be a boss. I’m sure as shit not looking for an anchor point by fucking the widow of my rival. The shit you’re talking is crazy as fuck, woman.”
“Don’t say that, Darragh. You loved me once. You could love me again if you just gave us a chance. I could be a good wife. You said you wanted to marry me.”
“Past fucking tense, Bella. Ancient goddamn history. Get your head outta your ass. It’s over.”
“Please…”
“Enough! Go home, Bella. Make arrangements to bury your husband and live your life. This is the last time I see you. Do not ever come back. Understand?”
If I thought it would be that easy to get rid of this trick, I was sorely mistaken. She took my words and figuratively flushed them down the toilet. She reacted as if I’d asked her to go pick out a white dress and meet me at The Little Vegas Chapel. With a confident smirk, she lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it across the floor like a veteran stripper. Her pants came next, along with her shoes. Before long, she stood before me wearing nothing but a lace thong with a matching bra. My muscled bunched beneath my suit jacket as I pondered the ramifications of shooting her between the eyes. I could make it look like an accident, swear the bitch fell on my gun and it happened to go off. It might work.
“It’s because of that silly blond waitress, isn’t it?” she speculated with a hiss. “I should’ve known that little cunt was going to be a problem the minute you paraded her around in my face at the fights.”
The fuck?
“Leave Otelia out of this, Bella. She has nothing to do with why I have no desire to ever be with you again. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”
“I won’t let her come between us, Darragh. Not after everything I’ve done to…”
She pressed her lips together and lunged at me. Arms flailing, she jumped up, locked her legs around my waist, tightened her grip around my neck, and held on through my attempts to dislodge her. She mewled, sliding her pussy up and down my flaccid cock in an attempt to get herself off and arouse me at the same time. I tried to unhook her without breaking her fucking arms only to lose my balance and send us both tumbling towards the desk. Bella held on tighter. Her lips peppered kisses along my neck, her tongue snaked out and left a trail along my Adams apple. Before I could right us to a standing position, the door to my office swung open and time seemed to stop.
“Mac, I think we should …” Fucking hell.
Otelia’s eyes took in the scene, which I was sure looked far worse than what was really happening. Bella with her legs wrapped around me damn near butt naked, the two of us leaning over my desk in a passionate embrace, the smears of red lipstick I was sure had stained my collar, the entire fucked-up situation. It was enough to make me want to blow a hole in Bella and spatter her guts along my ceiling for being bold enough to pull this shit.
“Otelia…” I managed to forcibly remove Bella’s arms from around my neck. “It’s not—”
“Mac…don’t…” she ordered with a stiff hand.
I studied her face hoping like hell she could see the truth in my rigid posture and lack of bulge in my pants. She closed her eyes tightly to steady her breathing, one deep inhale through her nose, then she opened them. Raw pain clouded her beautiful blue eyes. I felt her anguish as deeply as an open wound to the chest. I reached out to touch her, to pull her into my arms where she belonged, and not the skank still holding on to my lapel.
“Otelia…” I tried again.
“It’s okay, Mac.” She smiled wide, forced, with both rows of teeth. “This was without a doubt…a marvelous adventure that I’ll never forget.”
A strange statement.
The depth of its sadness nearly broke me.
She turned and left without a backwards glance, taking my blackened heart with her. I needed to follow her, bring her back to me and explain, make her understand. Bella’s incessant laughter sparked a wave of fury so potent, my hands shook as I fought against the impulse to strangle her to death and toss her body into a woodchipper. She’d pay for this, some way, I’d make sure of it.
“Get your clothes on and get the fuck out.” I moved towards to door only to be stopped by her last-ditch effort to shake me.
“I won’t let her come between us, Darragh. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” She picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head, still smirking. “I need to go play the part of grieving widow now, but I’ll see you soon, my sweet. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
More threats.
Splendid.
“My time is valuable, Bella. I won’t waste it attending a funeral for a woman I once considered more than a friend. Go near Otelia, and I promise you, they’ll have to bury a set of Michelin tires inside your coffin instead of a body.”
I walked out and slammed the door behind
me.
There was only one woman on my mind, the only one I cared about.
CHAPTER 38
Otelia
HOW DO YOU hide from a crime boss with unlimited connections? You don’t, that’s how, and why should I? We’d made no promises to each other, no commitments. I’d held up my end by helping with the average Joe fights. The night was a success. I call that square. I kept my pride in tact as much as I could, didn’t cause a scene or demand an explanation. Like a coward, I fled. So why, after two days holed up inside my house, did I still feel like I was somehow in the wrong?
It didn’t help knowing that there was a parked car outside watching my every move. I’d noticed its arrival within fifteen minutes of returning from the warehouse. I was incensed. I stormed right out the front door and confronted the asshole in a pair of Blue’s Clues slippers Maribel had given me last Christmas. I banged on the driver’s side window expecting him to try and weasel his way out of being caught; instead, he admitted to being assigned as lookout per Darragh MacCabe.
I told him to leave, he refused.
I ordered him to eat shit, he laughed.
I called him an asshole, he agreed.
After all the back and forth, I ended up bringing him a sandwich and a copy of one of my romance novels I kept on the nightstand. It wasn’t his fault he worked for a prick with an ego the size of Manhattan, which I ended up telling him when I dropped off the items. He’d concurred with my assessment and we’d left it at that.
My thoughts flashed back to that awkward scene, Mac on top of Bella, knee-deep in the throngs of pre-coitus bliss. I couldn’t get it out of my head. What shocked me the most was how right they looked together. Dark features, expensive clothes, plucked and prodded to perfection. Meanwhile, I was over here like, ‘Ooh, look at me in my charity dress, jeweled butt plug, and rented formal gratuity shoes.’ Some choices were easier made than others, but I couldn’t blame him. He was never going to pick me. I knew there was a possibility that the two of them would end up back together, promised love and all that, but the reality still hurt like a bitch. Guess that’s why I also hadn’t seen hide nor hair from Mac since I left two nights ago.
I wished them all the luck.
Not.
I finished off the last of the ice cream Mac had bought over, not even a little embarrassed by the empty containers littering my coffee table. A ridiculous romantic comedy I wasn’t really watching played in the background while I stuffed myself to the brim. The broadcast was interrupted by three high-pitched beeps just before the boob tube went black. I watched as the breaking news scrolled along the bottom of the screen:
Prominent business man Kallum O’Brien, shot to death near his home in the upscale community of Heflin Heights on Saturday night. Anyone with information regarding the crime is encouraged to contact the police immediately. A reward of fifty thousand dollars is being offered for any details leading to an arrest.
Holy fucknuts.
All the sugary ice cream I’d just consumed threatened to make a reappearance as my stomach retched in disbelief. Mac wouldn’t have…
I would kill before I let anything or anyone hurt you again.
I shook the sickening thought from my head.
Mac was clear about the way things were done in the mob. He didn’t have the power to eliminate a boss, or else he would’ve done it the minute O’Brien made his move. Besides, my life wasn’t a good enough reason to throw it all away. I was a means to an end, nothing more.
An image of Kellan O’Brien flashed in my mind as I remembered how he spoke to me about love conquering all. I’d been afraid and angry at the time, but I believed he’d meant every word. He’d had no reason to lie to a stranger. The man was an asshole who’d wanted me dead, but to actually have the tables turned? That was just wrong on so many levels. No one deserved to be murdered in cold blood, not even a mob boss with questionable business ethics. I waited for the feeling of relief to engulf me, but it never came. I was free, yet I grieved the loss of another person in this world denied a long life with the woman who owned his soul. It’s no wonder I hadn’t heard from Mac in the last two days. He was probably…
My stomach sank.
Oh God.
The implications of what this all meant hit me right in the solar plexus. My legs gave out from under me. The murder took place on the night of the average Joe fights, the night Bella came to be with Mac instead of crying her eyes out over her husband’s remains. Had she known he was dead at the time? Did she give a shit? I slid to the floor on my ass in a lump of overwhelming sadness coupled with a helping dash of pissed the fuck off.
That bitch!
I could hear her now.
“Oh, Darragh, hold me. I’m so distraught. Stick your dick in my stank pussy and make all the pain go away. You’re my only hope, Obi-Wan.”
Dirty twat wagon!
I wanted to scream, to rage against this thing called love and its propensity to fuck me up every time I turned around. Bella had the green light to go after the one person she couldn’t keep her filthy paws off, and that was Darragh MacCabe. She certainly didn’t have me to worry about anymore. I’d practically handed him over on a silver fucking platter. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t still in love with her and decided not to rekindle their old relationship. I didn’t know what to believe anymore, my gut or my lying eyes.
I wished I had stayed.
I wished…
The sound of the doorbell broke through my haze of self-loathing. Whoever was out there was impatient as hell, leaning on the buzzer like a damn lunatic. I didn’t want company, damnit. I wanted to wallow in suspicions until I could get to the store and buy more ice cream. Another fervid ring, and I dragged my pathetic ass off the floor and made my way over, checking the peephole.
“Who is it?” I yelled.
“The police, ma’am.”
Holy shit.
What the hell did the police want with me?
I cracked the door but left the chain engaged to check his identification before opening it up fully. Outside stood a large man wearing a seersucker suit straight off the discount rack of JC Penny. His back was turned to me as he surveyed the street and surrounding area. Before I could say a word, his hand shot out and gripped the frame. One mighty heave with his shoulder, and he was inside. I screamed and tried to get away, but he was on me before I could take a step. Surely, the guy in the car heard the shouts and reported them, or better yet, was on his way with the cavalry.
My assailant’s meaty hand covered my mouth as he pinned me to the floor. I flailed and kicked, bit down and scratched. He was just too big and strong. I pleaded with my eyes for him to let me go. Tears blurred my vision, yet despite the haze, I saw his fist as he raised it up and struck me across the face. It was the last thing I remembered before the blackness.
_______________
“Keep the hood over her head. I don’t want her seeing your face until she’s before the council begging for her life.”
“Shame. I could really have some fun with that one. She’s a real wildcat.”
“Don’t even think about it. Keep your dick in your pants. I won’t have you destroying all my plans because you have an itch that needs to be scratched. Remember what we talked about. You need to present her to the council with confidence. They have to believe the story once you tell it, or they’ll start asking questions. Make them believe it, darling. It’s all up to you now.”
Silence.
“Two hours. I’ll be ready.”
“That’s my big man and his massive cock I love so much. Remember the plan and stay focused. We’re almost at the finish line.”
I heard voices, one familiar, the other not so much. My senses started to return slowly, starting with smell. Perfume, the expensive kind that’s kept behind the counter at Nordstrom’s under lock and key. Pain. A throbbing in my temple that felt like someone had taken a sledge hammer to my head and left it there. Disorientation from the hood over my head, the gag i
n my mouth, and my limbs tied securely behind my back and ankles. I was strapped to a chair, I surmised, and not a very comfortable one. Heavy footsteps pounded the floor as someone moved away from me, but I could tell I wasn’t alone.
She was still here…somewhere.
“Maybe I should’ve let him have a little taste,” she mocked, close enough I could feel her body heat next to my bare shoulders. “It might’ve made for an interesting show.”
Bella fucking O’Brien.
I lifted my head to try and track her movements even though I couldn’t see anything. No use in pretending I was still knocked out. Bitch was too smart for that.
“I wonder what Darragh ever saw in someone like you? His taste in women must’ve plummeted after we broke up, then again, I’m not exactly an easy woman to replace.”
I’d give her an earful if it weren’t for this stupid gag.
I felt a light touch below my breast and flinched. I tried in vain to lean away, but the binds holding me to the chair refused to give way. My breath stole in my chest as the hood was yanked viciously from my head, revealing a smiling albeit crazed-looking Bella O’Brien. I took in as much detail as I could before she decided to re-apply the hood. I was sitting inside of a conference room and not a scary ass dungeon. The furniture was typical of a meeting place—matching chairs, long rectangle table, and a square black box used for zoom calls. A television was mounted on the wall next to a dry-erase board. What held my attention the longest was the bright sunlight as it streamed through the many windows of a high-rise office building. I didn’t recognize the city below, but it certainly wasn’t Remington. The tallest building in town was less than ten stories, and that was where the governor worked. Strange.
My pulse kicked up a notch at the bizarre discovery.
48 Mac (A Junkyard Boys Novel) Page 23