Beautiful Thief (Omertà Law #2)

by M. N. Forgy

  I re-wrap her arm and hurry out of the room to my bathroom. I have a small medical kit under the sink. Bending down, I pull open the doors and rifle through the cleaning products and worn towels until the rusty kit meets my fingertips. I jerk it out from under the pile of shit and head back to Luna. Opening it, I find a butterfly strips. I wonder if that will be enough? Pushing Band-Aids, gauze, and scissors to the side, I notice the kit to be missing disinfectant. Passing my chair in the great room, I swipe a bottle of vodka from the wet bar before going into the living room and squatting down next to her.

  Taking her hand in my own, I pull off the rag, the cut is fleshy looking, at least half an inch deep and bleeding dark red blood when pressure is not applied. I pour a little alcohol on it. She squirms, her toes curling in on themselves.

  “You should have told me.” I say coldly. I could have gotten this out better, or called someone. She needs to learn to trust me.

  “I didn’t know you cared.” Her words equally chilly.

  My eyes snap to hers, both of us staring at each other but not saying a word. Shaking my head, I look back down at the wound.

  Dabbing the leftover dampness with the hand towel, I place the butterfly strip onto her cut, closing it.

  Sitting on my ass, I put the neck of the bottle of vodka to my lips and take a long pull, my mouth filling with alcohol before I swallow and lower it back down.

  She leans up and takes it from my hand. Her emerald irises looking over the rim of the bottle as she takes a tiny sip, makes a face, and then takes one more sip before handing it back. I used to think I was petty and selfish for keeping women at a distance, not wanting to get involved or afraid I’d end up breaking their heart in the end. I haven’t had Luna in my care long, and I can definitely say without a doubt how much trouble they are. Here I was thinking I was the worst of the equation, if Luna is anything to go by… women are fucking crazy.

  My eyes skim over her creamy, bare shoulders, her collarbone, and I have the urge to reach out and run a finger over her skin.

  I look away, the last thing this poor girl needs is me eye-fucking her. “How bad does it hurt?” I ask, standing up.

  Glancing down before I leave the room, she shrugs. Going into the kitchen, I see the knife in the sink something smashed to dust on my counter. I grab her hoodie, my eyes lingering on the scene before me. I used to think I was a monster for the things I did and even felt, but looking at the smashed GPS on my counter, a sudden chill runs down my spine… so what the fuck does that say?

  Back Inside the living room, I toss the hoodie at her, she barely catches it.

  “Dress. Now,” I demand, needing her to put something on so I can remain a gentleman. It’s taking every restraint I have not to make a move on her. I’ve never had a half-naked woman around and not had her underneath me. It’s a fault of mine, I suppose, always thinking about fucking.

  She unravels it and slides her arms into each sleeve, I get a flash of her breasts and cute belly button before she pulls the sweatshirt over her head and covers her body up. She reaches behind her neck, freeing her hair from the collar.

  “So is your lady friend okay?” she asks, coming to a stand.

  Tilting my head to the side, I sense a tone of jealousy. Why else would she ask? The corner of my lip curls up, fighting a smile.

  “Um, that lady friend was my mother, and yes. She is fine,” I inform her, sitting down on the couch. Her face is stoic, and she crosses her arms.

  “O-oh. I didn’t. I mean…” She stumbles on her words. I ignore her flustered state and pick the pillow up to find the remote to the TV, turning it on.

  “What about you, do you have family?” I dig.

  She sits in the chair across from me, folding her legs Indian style. Her neck muscles flex as she stares at the screen.

  “I don’t have a family. I don’t have anyone.” Her head slowly turns before pinning me with sallow eyes. I should have asked, I know she doesn’t have parents. I was informed of that information at the state hospital when we were kids. I was told she killed her parents, I open my mouth to ask her if it’s true but think better of it.

  Leaning forward, I put the remote on the coffee table and rub my chin, the prickle of hair under my palm telling me I need to shave.

  “How about we order some Chinese food and watch TV? I bet you haven’t seen a lot of the good movies that have come out.”

  She looks down, her fingers messing with the sleeves of her hoodie.

  “I’ve never had Chinese,” she whispers, and I smirk, that felicitous feeling coming back to me. Fuck, how long has she been captive?

  “I know what’s good. I’ll order.” Pushing up off the couch, I head into the kitchen to find the menu in one of the drawers that’s open. Taking out the small piece of paper with Chinese writing on it, I begin to close all the drawers and shut the cabinets that Luna left open.

  The sound of Luna’s footsteps has me lift my head up and catch her walking towards me, a timid look crosses her pale face.

  “I’m just going to wash up.” she informs before looking away, as if staring into my eyes caused a strike of fear.

  “Of course.” I keep my tone gentle. I hate that she’s so scared; traumatized even.

  Just as I pull out my phone to order for us, it dawns on me that I’m excited. I’m fucking excited to be staying in, eating Chinese food and showing Luna some of my favorite movies. Shaking my head of the thought, I dial the number.

  This is just temporary, I tell myself. She’ll get better and want to leave. Like her, nobody wants me either. Which is fine, it’s best that way.

  Luna

  Lying on the couch in a food coma, half asleep, I try to keep my eyes open to watch the rest of Bird Box. We already watched Lakeview Terrace and Jurassic Park. I’m so comfortable and at ease, I just want to sleep here. To be that person who falls asleep on the couch watching TV. I’ve never done that before.

  My eyes blink heavily, and before I know it, the sound of the TV fades out and I’m slipping into a peaceful sleep.

  Stirring awake, my cheek stuck to my hand from sleeping on it, I sit up and look around the dark room. The TV is off, Romeo isn’t on the other couch, and all the Chinese food is missing from the coffee table. Darn, I could go for another one of those ragoon thingies. A weird noise has the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and I sit up, listening for it again.

  I hear a strangled moan that sounds like Romeo, and I throw the blanket off me to find him. I pass his chair, the lights from the city shining in on the polished floor and into his room. He’s in his bed, tossing back and forth, a disgruntled moan echoing through the room. He’s having a bad dream. I’m no stranger to those. They feel so real sometimes that when you wake your mind is still in the state of the nightmare. Goose bumps on your arms, your heartbeat racing, and your mind silently whispering it’s just a dream.

  Coming inside a little more, I stand on the other side of the bed and watch him, curious if he’ll settle down. His eyes move under his lids, his face pinched together as if he’s in pain. Lifting the blanket, I climb under and scoot next to him, he’s just wearing a pair of loose shorts, his chest bare. I can feel his body heat. I look around the room frantically, my hands fidgeting with one another. I reach out to touch him, my hand quivering at the thought of touching him. Holding my breath, my finger gently presses into his arm, and his forehead wrinkles. I freeze and watch him, curious if he’ll wake up and be upset I’m in here. He moans again, and for the first time I don’t see grown-up Romeo, I see the kid in the hospital who was terrified. I want to help him, like he did me. Swallowing my own fear and problems down, I thrust forward, wrapping my arms around him. Trying my best to imitate a straitjacket. His skin soft and dewy from sweating, the smell of musk and honey all over me at once, he stills in my arms. He curls into me and my eyes widen, not expecting that. His chin rests on my head, my arms barely able to fit around him he’s so full of hard muscle. His weight is killing my hurt arm act
ually, and I have to slide it out and place it under his head, my palm resting on the back of his hair.

  My fingers play with the silk locks, my eyes on him while he sleeps. I wonder what happened to him after he left the hospital. I told myself I was going to find him, but that was before I was left at that damn place. I was sure Poppy was going to come get me, but he never arrived and I was placed in child services. The one man I trusted, and he didn’t even want me.

  Sighing, I close my eyes, playing with Romeo’s hair.

  “These violent delights have violent ends,” I whisper, remembering Romeo and Juliet like the back of my hand. I read it in high school and thought of the Romeo I met as a kid. I was addicted to the story.

  “Good night, good night,” I whisper.

  10

  Romeo

  Feeling overly heated, I go to throw the blankets off me only to find myself tangled in arms of limbs that aren’t my own. My eyes snap open and Luna is snuggled up into my arms, her own wrapped around me tightly. My heart begins to pound in my chest, my skin suddenly feeling smothered. She smells like my shampoo, and… me. Her skin so soft, and hair wrapped around us both.

  I don’t want to wake her but my mind is freaking the fuck out that she’s in my bed touching me. I’ve never had someone so close to me, or touch me like this. It’s a first and I don’t know how to feel. Should I just relish in it and pull her closer? Or should I set a stern boundary and push her away, it’d be for her own good. She’s had a hard life and getting close to me won’t redirect the path of terror she’s on.

  Not knowing if I’ll ever have another human being I actually enjoy one’s company, I pull her into me. This may never happen again, and she’s asleep, so she won’t know what I’m feeling or thinking anyway.

  I used to pine after Kieran and Leona, jealous of their relationship and companionship, but since Luna has been here, I haven’t given two shits about them, or what they’re doing. All I care about is Luna and getting her back on her feet.

  Biting my lip, smelling her hair, I think about the day she’ll be ready to go outside and start her life. Will I be able to let her go?

  The sun rises slowly, slipping across the bedroom, and Luna stirs in my arms. Since she’s been in my arms I haven’t slept all night, I just keep thinking about how it feels to have someone this close. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest even.

  Her arm raises off my side and she rolls over, her face squinted with sleep. She looks around, taking in the room as if remembering where she is. She looks to me, and her lips turn into a smile.

  “I think you got lost last night,” I rasp, my voice dry and tired.

  “You were having a bad dream,” she informs, and my brows furrow.

  “I was? What about?” Knowing she saw me at such a vulnerable time makes me uneasy.

  She shakes her head.

  “I dunno.”

  Rolling onto her side, she tucks my pillow underneath her head, and my heart stills. Jesus, she’s beautiful. The morning sun billowed from behind her, streaming through her blonde hair. Reaching forward, I gently grab her chin.

  “I want to kiss you,” I tell her, and her lips part with surprise.

  Normally I wouldn’t ask, I’d grasp her face, pull her under me and kiss and fuck her to my heart’s content, but I have a feeling she’s been made to do things she hasn’t wanted to do her whole life. I don’t want to be categorized with the rest of the vile people that taunt her terrors. I’m a bad man, but even I have some fucking morals.

  She nods with hesitation in her eyes, and I shift forward, pressing my lips to hers. It takes her a second to melt into me but when she finally kisses me back, and I grab each side of her face, wanting her to be closer, to feel her skin in my hands. My tongue parting her lips, I rub it against hers and she moans into my mouth. Her fingers reaches up, resting on my hand still on her face, and feel that I’m going too fast for her, so I let up, kissing her one more time.

  Inches away from each other, her eyes look into mine, and I rub my thumb on the apple of her cheek.

  “Tell me what happened, Luna. Tell me what happened to you after I left.”

  I notice her throat bob as she swallows, her fingers sliding against the skin of my hand.

  “My mother’s boyfriend never came and picked me up. I was in because my mother died at our kitchen table, and I went on for three days as if she hadn’t died. I made her dinner, I combed her hair.” She stops, inhaling a sharp breath. “I was put in an orphanage and it was… hell. They were cold and unkind, so when I was adopted into a foster family, I thought things were finally going to be like a family again.” She blinks, looking away from me. “I was wrong. They were just as cruel, and just shy of my eighteenth birthday I was sold for one-hundred thousand dollars. Since then, I’ve been tossed around and given from hand to hand since.”

  “Were you… raped? Did anyone hurt you?” The words burn my tongue as soon as they leave my mouth, but I want to know. The thought of her beautiful mind being destroyed by unwanted hands causes me to ball my hands into fists.

  She looks back up at me looking cadaverous. “They tried to sell me into sex trafficking a few times but I wouldn’t cooperate and was given back. I was rented out for small illegal jobs here and there but mostly I was abandoned in a cage that wasn’t justifiable for a pet, let alone a dozen women.”

  Her eyes close, and I can tell she’s fighting back tears. I pull her into my chest again, knowing not only does she need a hug, but I do. Clenching my jaw I find it hard to even imagine what the hell she’s been through. I’ve never got my hands on a man that has raped a woman but when I do… I will squeeze his neck until I feel the bones in his neck crack. I have no respect for anyone that commits such an act.

  “Where did you go after you left the state hospital?” she sobs. Her finger draws an imaginary figure on my arm as she awaits my answer. The touch soft and making me inhale sharply.

  Feeling obligated to tell her a piece of my life, mine not near as bad as hers, I divulge.

  “My father became the don of the DeAngelo family, my brother Kieran was my father’s pride and joy as we learned the ropes of organized crime. I mostly stood by my brother, keeping out of my dad’s way. That was until my father and brother had a falling out, and now I’m the one left to fill the position Kieran was in. I don’t think my father is too thrilled about it. I’m… not like him. I’m not ruthless. I can hurt people, but I refuse to put my darkness on innocent people so he sees me as weak.” I info dump on her, trying to make sure I get everything out with as little emotion as possible.

  She looks up at me.

  “I think you have more inside of you than you know.”

  My brows furrow, my eyes blinking rapidly. I don’t know what I’m capable of and that’s what I try to protect everyone from. I want to be gentle and caring, but my temper proceeds to tell me to stay away from people. Maybe the act of being nice is more than a soft touch or a smile, I’d like to think so anyway.

  Luna

  Feeling his heart thud against my ear, his arms around me. I run my finger over my bottom lip that still tingles from him kissing me. It was… amazing. I haven’t felt anything like it before. Not even when I had a boyfriend in high school. Things I only dreamed about are coming true, but something deep inside of me still sits sour. Why? Shouldn’t I be happy?

  Suddenly feeling uneasy, I exhale sharply. I hated telling him where I’ve been and what has happened to me but that’s in the past. We live every day, we only die once. I’m free now and I can trust Romeo. I should be thinking about my future, but… I’m not. Then it hits me. There are so many women I left behind, how can I ever be free when they’re not. I know what’s going on and how it’s happening, I can’t just walk away and try to live a normal life.

  “What’s wrong?” Romeo asks, sitting up on his elbow.

  “Do you remember when you asked me what I wanted?” I question. He asked me that shortly after taking me here. I remember, but I
didn’t know what the hell I wanted. I do now.

  He gives me an off look, but nods.

  Pushing the hair from my face, I sit up straight. “I want to take down the trafficking ring. I want to make those motherfuckers bleed the pain I bled every day and I want to let those women I left behind… go. Can you help me?”

  He sits up, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

  “I don’t have that kind of power. Plus, that means putting you back in the circle you just escaped from, Luna,” he says to himself before looking at me, the protection in his voice making me feel special.

  Biting my nail, I think about what he just said. It’s true, I’ll be running back to the dark instead of away from it to save those women.

  “I’ll never be free knowing what I know. You’re the fucking mafia, Romeo, if anyone can do this... it’s you!” I point at him, my voice rising with anger and enthusiasm.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t. My father is the one that the power, in fact, he has the right to take you back if he wants. Butting up against him isn’t wise. I’m not the—”

  “Yes, you are! Don’t you see, you’re those women’s only hope!” I shout, my hands out in front of me as if I’m holding a mirror for Romeo to see just how powerful he is.

  “I’m not the Don of New York, everything in this city goes by my father. If I even make a step toward that ring, he’ll know and shut me down,” he informs.

  Leaning up on my knees, I grab his face, his breath quickens as our eyes meet.

  “You are so much more than that. You can be the Don, you can be king of New York. You just have to believe it. Just like I believe I can save those girls, that I can save myself.”

  He closes the small gap between us and kisses me again. I close my eyes and kiss him back.

  We’re going to do this. Together.