by Shanna Bell
She frowned. “Luca is being an ass, so I’m not sure how much longer we’re going to be family.”
“What was it this time?” he asked. “You broke into an animal shelter again? Or a Big Pharma testing on monkeys?”
“Hey, what makes you think I did something?” she sputtered. “Maybe Luca did something real stupid. I mean, he’s a man, after all. Doing stupid stuff kind of comes with the job description.”
She looked ready to give an online seminar on the subject.
“The reason I’ve called is because of your excellent skills with a computer—”
Luca appeared behind Tess. “She refuses to stop looking for her sister,” he explained.
Tess rolled her eyes. “Would you stop searching for Vince if he had disappeared, and had men chasing after him?”
“I would if he had tried to kill me,” Luca said. “And I definitely would if he had stuck it to the twins. You know they’re going to find her, one way or the other. I just don’t want you to get caught up in that mess.”
“Which is precisely why I have to find her first,” Tess argued.
Luca put a huge Star Wars mug next to Tess and gave her a kiss.
Vince saw it happen right before his eyes; it was like magic. Tess sighed, took a sip from the cup, and seemed instantly relaxed. After giving Vince a wink behind his wife’s back, Luca walked away.
“What can I do for you, Vincenzo?” Tess asked.
He put his phone on speaker so Sy could listen in. “Remember the assignment you took?”
“Ah yes.” She did some typing, putting on her game face. “The guy in your club. Funny, by the way, that according to the official police report, he went missing exactly the day before you asked me to check him out.”
She arched an eyebrow in exaggeration, but he refused to take the bait.
“Have you found out his connection to Morelli or Keegan?”
He had to know what he was to either of those men. Only then could he figure out what he blackmailed Carmen with. With all that had happened, he hadn’t forgotten how she had ended up in his club, near to a dead body.
“Not exactly,” Tess continued. “He has no connection whatsoever to that Italian piece of crap, or the Irish asshole.”
He’d been trying all his resources for days now and had come up empty. Tess was his last hope. “Keep digging. There has to be one.”
“You could just ask her, you know,” Tess said dryly. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on. She asks me to find Sy and a few days later, she shacks up with you guys. Carmen voluntarily living with two men is as likely as Nemo going for a swim in shark-infested waters.”
“So, you’re telling me you couldn’t find anything on this guy. That he was squeaky clean?” He didn’t believe that for a second.
“I didn’t say that. I said that he doesn’t have a connection to Morelli or Keegan. He does have a long history with that douche Franco though. According to their bank records, about five years ago, they visited the same club. Some place called Red Velvet.”
Shit.
Sy exchanged a glance with him. They had both heard of that place. It was supposed to be a seedy underground club that moved around. Some believed it didn’t exist. Others believed it was ruled by the Bridemaker—a sick fuck who stole babies from the crib to raise them as child brides.
“Are you sure that they went to this place?”
“Positive. I had to hack my way through a lot of firewalls, and a maze of shell companies before I found it, but I’m certain. Do you know what happened when I searched for Red Velvet? Nothing.” She clucked her tongue. “I could find nada, zilch, on its whereabouts, its owners, the members. This is so fishy.”
This was bad news. The question was, how had Carmen ended up in a situation that this guy had something on her?
“Thank you, Tess. Keep digging.”
“You expect me to spy on my friend?”
“It’s for her own safety.”
She cocked a brow. “Or you can do as I suggested. Ask. Her.” Then she hung up on him.
“She’s right, you know,” Sy said.
“Carmen’s not going to tell us what he has on her.”
“We could make her.”
He knew exactly what his friend was hinting at. “You’re that sure that you can make her spill the beans?”
“I made her come, didn’t I?”
“Asshole.” He didn’t need a reminder that Carmen was still treating him like a leper, while Sy had already made her scream. It was what had driven him to Sy’s room in the first place—her moaning.
Sy leaned back in the recliner. “Don’t hate me for it, man. I’m sure you remember how sweet she tastes. When exactly was it that you saw her last? Before her sister’s wedding to your brother, I mean.”
He hated thinking back on that day. It was like a dark page from a diary he wished he could erase. “The night you and I met. I was supposed to meet her the morning after.”
Then Morelli had intervened. Bastard.
Understanding dawned on Sy’s face. “Ah, shit. Does she know? What happened that night?”
“No. And you’re not gonna tell her either.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. If you want her to keep hating your guts, that’s your business. Just don’t hate on me ’cause I like staying on her good side.” He grinned. “I mean, you didn’t really expect me to keep my hands off her, did ya? Also, you’ve had her first, so you already know how sweet she tastes.”
“Actually, I don’t. We’ve never had sex.”
Sy sent him an incredulous look. “Jesus. I don’t know what happened between you two, but you’ve been missing out.”
Missing. Regretting. Hating. Loving. It was an endless cycle.
Protect and provide.
His father’s mantra echoed through his mind. They were the things that made a man a man; protecting his family and providing for them. The providing part was easy. He could give her the world, though she still had yet to ask him for something. It was the protecting part he feared to fail at. He had done so once before, but this time, it would be different. Even if she would hate them for it.
CHAPTER 14
SY
The next morning, Sy woke up to a foreign smell. What the hell was that? He sighed as he remembered he was lying in his bed, alone. After Vince gave Carmen a well-deserved spanking, he had reconsidered visiting her room. It hadn’t escaped his attention she’d held her whip nearby. Next to her on her bed, to be exact. Still, he had shown up at her door with a soothing ointment for her painful butt, hoping to earn him some points. Sadly, she’d slammed the door in his face. So much for letting bygones be bygones.
After taking a shower, his stomach could no longer deny the delicious scent of bacon, eggs, and he suspected, waffles. Shit, he was a sucker for waffles. It would be his request for his last meal. How had she found out?
As he walked into the kitchen, his gaze settled on the counter that was filled to the brim. It had over a dozen plates filled with food. He tensed as deep buried memories resurfaced.
Come here, boy. You want cupcakes?
Look at those cupcakes, you piece of shit.
Open your mouth. Open your fucking mouth!
Nausea swept over him, almost making him retreat. Except, a Bratva soldier sure as hell didn’t retreat. Wiping any emotion from his face, he sat at the kitchen island.
Judging by the industrious way Carmen was moving in her shorts and shirt, pulling another platter out of the oven, there was more food to come. None of it looked like cupcakes though.
He wondered what her game was. There was no doubt in his mind that the all-star breakfast was a setup.
“That’s a lot of food,” he said, and she whirled around to look at him.
Her cheeks turned pink. “I stress bake.”
“Do you now?”
“I’m taking it to the shelter this afternoon.”
No, she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be going anywhere on her own t
o deliver some basket filled with food like fucking Little Red Riding Hood.
“Pack it up and have it delivered.” When she stilled, he added, “You’re not going out on your own right now. Keegan and Morelli are still holed up somewhere.”
He grabbed a waffle, expecting her to slam a wooden spoon on his finger any second. She didn’t. What she did was pour him coffee.
“Black as your soul, I assume?”
Ah, there was the jab. “That’s right, doll.” He looked her body up and down, lingering at her perky breasts that looked heavy underneath her cami. “I’ll take my sugar later.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I doubt it.”
“Never doubt me. I always deliver.” He ignored her derisive huff and took a look at the waffle. Then he looked at her.
“It’s not poisoned. I’d never shame the memory of my nonna.” She sounded actually hurt.
“Your nonna?”
She filled him a plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and French toast, then sat across him. “My dad’s mom. She taught me how to cook. Every time something was up—and with our lives, it was always something—we went into the kitchen. Some nights, it was the news of another hit; others, it was something worse. I guess my grandfather did his best to shield us as much as he could, but that wasn’t always possible. More than once, someone from the family came home battered and bruised, and my grandmother had to patch them up.”
He took a bite from the waffle. Damn, it was delicious. “So that’s where you got your nurse skills from.”
“She never taught me how to stand up for myself though. Not that I can blame her. Nonna was old school. Brought up in a world where a woman always stood by her man, no matter how dire the circumstances.” She looked him straight in the eye. “But, it’s not the fifties anymore. I don’t like being powerless.”
He shrugged. “If you’re referring to the spanking, you deserved that, doll. Truth be told, I think Vince went easy on ya ass.”
She cocked her brow. “Actually, I wasn’t referring to that, though that wasn’t exactly pleasant. I meant that I didn’t like it when Keegan’s guy almost grabbed me. I only got away because of my pepper spray. I want to learn how to defend myself if I’m out of spray. Will you teach me?”
As he ate, he pretended to think about it, hard. “I don’t know. Are you going to use what I teach you to kick my ass?”
“I will most definitely use it to kick your butt.”
“Then I’m looking forward to it.” That earned him a smile. “What are those?” He nodded at the plate that had come fresh out of the oven.
“Oh, those are biscuits.”
He handed her his empty plate. “I’m not much of a breakfast person, but I’ll have some of those. And while you’re at it…” He eagerly waited while she re-filled his plate.
When Vince joined them a few minutes later, he noticed he didn’t get a plate. Or coffee.
When his friend eyed his plate, he growled, “Get your own.”
Vince cocked a brow. “And here I thought you liked sharing?”
“Ha. Ha.”
The clattering sound of Carmen dropping a bowl drew their attention to her.
“Crap.” She ducked to grab the bowl and her cami top crept higher, revealing creamy skin with red-and-white welts.
Vince froze, then cursed.
Before Sy could tell him not to make a big deal out of it, Vince stomped over to her. His hand went up to Carmen’s shoulder, but she backed away.
When she turned around and saw him staring at her, the atmosphere in the kitchen took a nosedive.
“Carmen…”
The anguish in Vince’s voice couldn’t be missed. Sy internally shook his head. He dropped his bagel and took a gulp of his hot coffee.
“Don’t.” Carmen’s voice was like a whip.
“Don’t?” Vince looked ready to explode. “You expect me to just let this go?”
Sy could have told him that was exactly what she expected. No one liked to be looked at with pity. Or with rage, the way Vince was right then. He could see Carmen shrink into herself, feeling small. Then her eyes flashed. Oh, hell. This wasn’t going to end well.
“Please, go away.”
Vince took a deep breath as he brushed his face with his hands, looking crushed and torn at the same time. Without saying another word, he walked away.
Carmen looked flustered, even ashamed, as if she had been the cause of her scars.
Fuck this. Sy took out his phone and sent out a message.
“Get dressed. We’re leaving in ten.”
“Leaving where?”
“You’ll see when we get there. Put on some comfy clothes. You patched me up so I owe you.”
“I think you taking a bullet for me makes us even,” she said dryly.
She had no idea. The way he was raised, it wasn’t a given they were even. His whole life had been about him trying to get even with his mom. The woman seemed to think he owed her a lifetime of servitude just because she gave birth to him. Carmen giving him a helping hand and not asking anything in return was unusual. It didn’t fit the profile of the women in his life and made him feel uncomfortable. So, he figured he’d help her out.
She’d been cooped up in the apartment for days now, and he didn’t think the threat against her life was the only reason she stayed locked up inside. It was time for his little bird to spread her wings and he was just the man to make her fly. After all, the place he was going, they had hay. And who didn’t love an afternoon haystack rumble? That was the only reason he was taking her out.
He grabbed her hips, turned her around, and slapped her butt. “When I say I owe you, I do, okay? Now, you have six minutes left. Don’t make me come up to your room. Now move that pretty ass.”
She gave him a glare over her shoulder but did as he asked. Exactly six minutes later, she emerged from her room wearing white sneakers and jeans that molded perfectly around her curves.
“A punctual woman. And here I thought your species was extinct.”
This earned him an eye roll, but he could see a smile form on her lips. Much better. He hated seeing her sad, her eyes filled with grief over memories from days long gone. Refusing to think why he gave a damn, he all but hauled her into the car before he drove out of town.
She didn’t make small talk, or try to talk his ears off, like most women did when he met them outside the bedroom. No, Carmen was different, in more ways than he’d anticipated. She shut her eyes and turned her face to the sun. Had he not known about her past, he’d say she looked perfectly content. Except, she wasn’t. A woman like her, seeing, experiencing what she had, wouldn’t be perfectly fine, no matter how desperately she pretended to be.
His hands gripped the steering wheel harder as he remembered her scars. They had been worse than the rope burn he’d felt the other night. Yet, here she was; still standing tall, making something out of her life, instead of losing herself in booze or drugs, like some people he knew.
About an hour into their drive, he turned off onto a dirt road. He typically took the road once a month when he needed to clear his head.
Carmen’s eyes opened and she perked up from her seat. Her mouth formed into an “O” when she saw the sign they just passed.
“A farm?”
“An animal rescue shelter.”
He liked the excitement that formed on her face. It was all there for him to see, like an open book—joy, curiosity, anticipation.
He parked his car in the lot across from the supervisor’s booth and stepped out. He took in the scent of fresh cut grass, horses, and large bales of hay to his left.
“I never took you for a country boy,” Carmen said, as he led her through the stables to the patch of green behind it. On his way out, he grabbed some sugar cubes from a bucket.
“Not a country boy,” he clarified. “A few years ago, I came here to drop something off.”
The something was waiting on him grazing in the pasture.
Carmen gasped. “He’
s beautiful.”
“That’s Thor,” he said, as he took her hand and led her to the horse he’d saved years ago. “His owner owed us and I took him as collateral.” Along with every last one of the owner’s car collection, which ranged from expensive Ferraris to even more expensive Aston Martins. The one thing the man couldn’t ride was this beautiful horse. So, he took the whip to him, almost blinding him in one eye. A favor Sy had returned with pleasure.
It was as if Thor could sense his presence. The full-blood walked up to him and nudged him until he gave him some sugar.
Sy patted him on the back as he fed him. “Thor was in bad shape when I found him. He was abused and then cast aside, so I took him here. He healed, but I couldn’t get a penny for him when I tried to sell him as a racehorse. They said he was too ugly for the tracks, can you believe that? So, when he was patched up, I hired a jock and put Thor to race myself. And you know what happened?”
“I bet he won,” Carmen whispered, as her hands slid through Thor’s mane.
“That he did.” He couldn’t help but feel proud. “’Cause strength is a state of mind and attitude. My boy carried his welts and scars with pride when he went into the race, and left the other horses behind eating dust.”
They spent another hour taking care of the horses. He even tricked her into a make out session in the hay on the barn loft.
She closed her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss.
“Thank you.”
His heart did a weird thud and he rubbed away the feeling that was close to an ache. The way she looked at him, with heat and joy shining in her eyes, made him feel ten feet tall.
It also scared the shit out of him.
CHAPTER 15
CARMEN
It wasn’t until after a week after the shooting that Carmen had her first nightmare in the penthouse.
She shot up in bed, a scream lodged in her throat. It always started the same. This nightmare, in which Franco chased after her with a knife that clung to her subconscious like a dirty old coat, she couldn’t shake off. No matter what she did, it pulled her into the mud.