“Before I go,” he said, his mouth close to my ear, shivers blustering up my spine, “can I touch you?”
“If you don’t, I might die.” He didn’t waste a second to have his hand in my pants. His palm slipped down the front of my sweats, beneath my panties, and my eyes went to the ceiling as I hissed. “I touched myself to thoughts of you, even in that prison,” I said, a bit breathy as his finger went to my slit. I was quite possibly the wettest I’d been in my entire life.
He stilled at my words, his fingers frozen in place. He was fighting the anger, the desire to hunt down Luca, and I hadn’t meant to cause that reaction. I just wanted him to know it’d always been him—every thought and orgasm had belonged to him, even when he hadn’t been with me.
“Touch me,” I demanded. “Touch me like you should have six years ago.” I clutched him, my body pressed to his firm chest, hands on his back. His arm was the only thing wedged between us.
He finally moved his hand again, working it over my center, and when he crooked a finger inside of me, I arched into his palm and cried out. My chin rested on his shoulder as he touched me, as he made love to me with his hand.
I would not wake up in Russia.
This was not a dream.
This man was my future.
And we’d only just begun.
Maybe I couldn’t tell him the truth yet, but I would. I had to. And then, somehow, maybe we’d finally be free to truly be together.
Chapter Eleven
Cole
I’d destroyed the punching bag at the gym before work, and I was in the midst of completely obliterating one now. My hands hurt. My body ached. And that was fine with me.
I was the idiot who liked pain after all. I just didn’t want the pain in my chest. And right now, my heart was all kinds of messed up. I was feeling so many things, and I didn’t know how to process them all.
Alessia’s second letter. Her admission. Mine.
I could pinpoint when my need for pain began. The memory was clear as day, but I couldn’t share the truth with Alessia without worrying she’d somehow try and shoulder the blame.
It started the day I first noticed Alessia as more than a kid.
She’d been seventeen and had walked out of a fitting room in some clingy black dress for a school dance, asking me to zip up the back for her. No bra, and the start of the zipper was at the small of her back, close to her arse.
I was twenty-three. I wasn’t supposed to get turned on by a teenager.
I’d been so bloody pissed at myself, feeling all kinds of fecking wrong for wanting her that I’d gone to confession. That didn’t make me feel better. My hand going through the wall in my bedroom hadn’t helped either.
So, like a stupid fecking arse that I was, I’d called the woman I’d been screwing on and off for a hookup. I knew she was into kinky shite but held back with me since it wasn’t my thing. But that time, I decided to let her fulfill her strange need to hurt and punish others on me.
The pain had become my punishment, and eventually, I started to like it. To need it. It kept me from thinking about Alessia as anything other than a close friend. I’d even made a pact with myself—no looking at her sideways again until she was legal.
But by the time she was eighteen and out of high school, I didn’t even know how to have vanilla sex.
And when she was gone for good, when I accepted she didn’t want me to find her, I’d gotten worse. I’d never been in a real relationship. How could I?
I believed in soul mates. Alessia was mine. When I thought I’d lost her for good, I lost hope. I blamed myself for not telling her how I felt back then. Our age difference, the loss of her mother, then her father . . . my proclivity for hard, wild sex.
But the past was the past. I had to let all that stuff go and move on. For some reason, she accepted me. She knew my secret, and she didn’t look at me differently. Never once did I witness disappointment in her eyes, even when I’d told her about my dark side.
And now we were being given a second chance, and I refused to screw up. I’d be the man she deserved.
My blood was pumping. Adrenaline surging. I was wound up, and I needed to get out my aggression for Luca and release my tension before I saw Alessia for dinner.
What in the hell had Luca done to her that she wasn’t ready to talk about? Why wouldn’t she let me see her naked? So many more questions barreled through my head.
So, I punched. I kicked. I beat the shite out of a helpless bag. Better than a wall, I supposed.
Adam wasn’t at the gym, and Sebastian was getting ready for his night out with his wife. I was happy they weren’t here to witness me taking my tension, not to mention my sexual frustrations, out on the bag. I didn’t want to explain.
I shouldn’t have called Bree last night. She texted me earlier with an apology. She’d called Alessia last night and said a few things she knew would piss me off. Basically, anything that would hurt Alessia would hurt me.
“Yo, mate.”
I turned around to see a younger British fighter behind me. “Yeah?”
“You feel like going a few rounds with me instead of that bag?”
Probably not a good idea. Not with the way I was feeling. I might kill the kid. “Nah, thanks for the offer.”
He shrugged. “If you change your mind, the offer is here.”
I nodded my thanks, then checked the time. I had one quick stop to make before dinner. A League matter I needed to handle.
Next Friday, I was flying to London to meet with the new Alliance leader for England. The guy who’d been in charge had been working in secret with Luca to overthrow Luca’s uncle in France and take down Sebastian.
I had a feeling the new guy wouldn’t be any better than the previous piece of rubbish. From what I’d looked up about him, he was probably worse.
The idea of leaving the city, leaving Alessia, had me wanting to punch something again. Sebastian was coming with me, so Emilia would stick around town and keep an eye on things for us, but still, I didn’t want to leave Dublin.
Damn, I needed to get my head clear before I met with Alessia tonight.
I unwrapped my hands and went into the locker room for a quick shower. I’d brought a change of clothes. Dark denim jeans, leather chukka boots, with a white button-down and dark sport blazer. I left the top button undone, styled my hair, pushing the strands to the side with gel, a touch spiky at the ends, then shut my locker and took off.
The boxing and shower hadn’t helped ease the edge, though. Adam used to say he always felt like he was hanging on the edge, and I understood that better than anyone.
I hopped into my new Aston Martin DB11. Sleek and black. Luxurious. Entirely too expensive, but it was a statement piece necessary for my new role. I’d never done much driving back in New York. There wasn’t any need, but this thing was a beauty, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to get rid of her even after I stepped down.
Hell, would I ever get to step down? I wasn’t sure what would happen. Even if we somehow managed to take down the entire Alliance organization, there’d always be some new bad guy.
I checked the address for my location and entered it into my GPS. Before I pulled away from the gym, a call came through from my aunt.
“Hey, how are you?” I wasn’t sure why she was calling, unless—was Anna in labor early?
“Can you get to the hospital?” she asked straight away and rattled off the address. “Adam needs you.” Worry clouded her tone instead of excitement about being a grandmother.
I blinked a few times, my heart racing as I stepped on the pedal to haul arse. “What’s wrong?”
“Anna’s having an emergency C-section. Something went wrong, and the baby was in distress, and Adam’s not allowed in the room, and he started punching the walls. He’s losing it. Holly and Sean are here, but I think he needs you, too.”
My stomach dropped. “Of course. On my way.”
“I’m going to call Ethan and see if he can hop on a
plane here.”
I took a breath, took a damn second to collect myself, then called Alessia after I ended the call with my aunt.
“Hey, Sebastian just called. I’m on my way,” she rushed out. “The baby. Anna. They’ll be okay.” Her voice was calm. Soothing. She managed to dial my pulse down a notch.
If anything happened to Anna or the baby, Adam wouldn’t be able to handle it. “They perform C-sections all the time,” I said in an attempt to control my thoughts before they veered in a shittier direction. “So yeah, they’ll be okay. Of course, they’ll be okay.” I swallowed the knot and took a sharp turn, the hospital coming into view.
“I’ll see you there.”
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know how much you hate hospitals.” Losing her mother when the doctors had said she’d most likely make a recovery after surgery—only for her to flatline moments later . . .
Her mother had been different from her dad. Kinder. Warmer. More like Alessia. I had no idea why she’d fallen in love with Anthony Romano, the man who’d cheated and had a son he’d abandoned, but she’d loved that broken, messed-up man.
“Sebastian is outside the hotel now to get me.” Based on the sound of her slightly breathy tone, she was already on the move. “I’ll see you soon.”
I ended the call and parked a minute later. I hurried into the hospital, spotting my cousin Sean and his parents in the waiting room.
“What happened? Any news? Where’s Adam?” Okay, so I was nervous.
Tears pricked my aunt’s eyes, and she threw her arms around me before stepping back to wipe them from her cheeks. “Placental abruption. The placenta separated from the uterine wall too soon. Baby couldn’t breathe, and Anna was bleeding.”
Sean gripped the back of his neck. They say twins can feel each other’s pain, and I wondered if Sean was experiencing whatever hell Adam was enduring right now.
“Where’s Adam?” I looked around, still no sight of him.
My aunt cupped her mouth. “A doctor stuck him with a needle.”
“What?” I asked in shock. “Why in the bloody hell would they do that?”
“He was losing his mind. He wanted to be in the operating room.” Sean’s eyes went to the floor. “I’ve never seen him so upset in all my life.”
“He’s worried he’s going to lose his wife and son.” I’d break down the door to get to my family if I had to. “And they stuck a sedative in him? Can they even legally do that?” What the hell?
“I don’t know.” Sean grimaced.
“Where’s he now?” I asked, still searching for him.
“They have him in a room three doors down. The sedative didn’t work, so they stuck another one in him. He can’t even stand. Holly’s in there with him. Holly and Anna were getting ready for Valentine’s—they were all going to go on a double date, and then—” Sean let go of his words. They were too painful to say.
“Sebastian and Alessia are on their way.” Emilia would probably want to know about this, too.
“Looks like they’re here now.” Sean pointed to the glass doors behind me. The hotel was nearby, so it hadn’t taken them long to arrive.
I spun around to see them on approach, my chest painfully tight. There was too much pressure. And this was the kind of pain I sure as feck didn’t like.
Alessia was dressed for dinner. For our date. A chocolate-colored dress that wrapped around her body, hugging her curves, and stopped just short of her knees. The dress had a high neck with a brooch button at the top. A sort of Jackie Kennedy look to the outfit. Sophisticated and sexy. Nude strappy heels accentuated her long legs.
I blinked out of my stupor, out of my holy-hell-was-she-gorgeous gaze, remembering where I was and why I was there.
She threw her arms around me, and I crushed her against me, catching Sebastian’s eyes as I held her. An apologetic look there. We were family now. It was all so strange. A loss for him was a loss for me.
But no. We wouldn’t lose the baby or Anna.
“Where’s Holly?” Sebastian asked, the worry remaining in his eyes. This was a problem he couldn’t fix, and he was used to being able to fix everything.
“She’s with Adam. They drugged him to calm him down,” Sean explained. “I’ll take you to her.”
Sebastian followed Sean down the hall. I wanted to go with him, but I didn’t want to crowd Adam.
“Are you okay?” I brushed the back of my hand over Alessia’s cheek.
“I think—” She let go of her words at the sight of a doctor exiting an OR. Or was it a resident?
We needed the best of the best operating, damn it. But we focused on this young kid who looked like he was about to deliver shite news and was terrified we’d kill him for it.
“Where’s her husband?” the kid-doctor asked.
“Your people doped him up,” I shot back, irritated. Worried. Angry.
I needed to put my hand through a wall. I needed to feel pain anywhere but in my chest, as I was now.
“I’ll get him.” My aunt disappeared into Adam’s room, and a moment later, he exited with Holly on one side of him and Sebastian on the other. Holly had her arm slung around her brother’s back for support. He looked groggy. Barely able to stand on his own.
Adam braced the wall with his free hand as he moved with slow steps.
At the feel of Alessia’s hand, I looked down to see she’d clasped our palms together. A sign of unity, and as great as it felt to be holding her hand, I couldn’t get my heart to stop pounding so fiercely to the point I thought I’d be sick.
“Your son is going to be okay, Mr. McGregor. We got him out in time. We’ll need to keep him in the NICU since he was delivered early and—”
“My wife?” Adam dropped to his knees, his weight pulling Holly down with him. He slowly lifted his eyes to the doctor, and I noticed the kid-doctor take two small, frightening steps backward. “My wife,” he cried again, his voice breaking. Tears falling with relief for his son but out of fear for Anna.
Holly’s shoulders trembled. And Sebastian knelt next to her. Three powerful people taken to their knees.
“There was some postpartum hemorrhaging from the abruption, as you know. She lost a lot of blood.”
I squeezed Alessia’s hand even tighter, my heart breaking.
“The doctors are doing everything they can. She’s still in surgery. I just thought you’d want to hear the good news about your son. And I can take you to meet him now. He’s a hell of a fighter.” He paused, his dark brows pinching. “A Valentine’s baby. Congratulations.”
Adam was officially a father. He had a son. Someone who would rely on him even if the unimaginable happened.
Sebastian stood and hooked his arm beneath Adam’s to help him stand, and Holly did the same on the other side of him. I’d never seen my cousin so broken. In such pain. The fight in him gone, but I knew it was the drugs they’d pumped into him, because he’d never quit, not on his wife. He loved her as much as I loved Alessia.
Once Adam, Holly, and Sebastian were out of sight, I turned toward Alessia and Sean. My aunt and uncle had collapsed onto chairs in the waiting area, my uncle rubbing a reassuring hand up and down my aunt’s back as she cried.
“She’s gonna be alright,” Sean said, tears in his eyes. “I’m gonna call Ethan and give him an update. He’s catching the next flight out of New York.”
I nodded. “Could you let Bree know what’s going on? I didn’t think to call her, and I, um.”
“Yeah.” Sean started to walk the other direction but then paused and slammed both palms to the wall and bowed his head. The sight was heart-wrenching.
Anna was family. We wouldn’t recover if we lost her.
“Anna is a fighter like her husband. Like their baby,” Alessia whispered, still holding my hand.
I lifted our clasped palms between us and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I know,” I said, my gaze on hers. “We’ve all got the fight in us. McGregors. Romanos.” My stomach squ
eezed. “This isn’t the end. It can’t possibly be the end.” I let go of a deep breath. “It’s only the beginning.”
Chapter Twelve
Cole
Adam’s sedatives finally wore off. And when the surgeon emerged from the OR an hour later, I had to hold on to Adam’s arms to keep him from swinging at the doctor. He was pissed. His anger was warranted, but when the doctor said, “You can see your wife now. She’ll be okay,” his anger converted to gratefulness. He’d thrown his arms around the doctor and hugged him while breaking down and crying tears of relief.
I closed my eyes, shooting a thank-you up to God, then did the first thing that came to mind once Adam had disappeared into his wife’s room—I kissed Alessia.
I grabbed hold of her, bringing her cheeks between my palms, and I set my mouth to hers, not giving a damn who saw. She was my life. My reason for breathing.
When I stepped back, I dipped my hand into my pocket in search of the three-leaf clover I’d found in a patch outside. I smoothed it flat on my palm. It was wilted from clasping on to it while we’d waited for news.
She feathered her fingers over the clover before skirting her hand to my forearm. I’d lost my jacket an hour ago. Had my sleeves pushed to the elbows one second. Pulled them down the next and so on. Nerves had me all out of sorts.
“A seamróg.” I smiled. “Shamrock,” I added in English. “Do you know the real meaning of one?”
She shook her head. “I probably should, but no.”
“It’s symbolic of Ireland’s transition from paganism to Christianity. It was the symbol used to explain Christianity. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” I’d grown up Catholic, and maybe I lived a life of sin, but I still had my beliefs and holding that shamrock while praying to God to protect Adam’s wife had gotten me through those dark hours.
Alessia took the shamrock from me, curled her hand around it, and brought it to her heart. She still had on the cross I’d given her, and even though the dress hid most of it, I glimpsed the chain at the side of her neck. “It amazes me your necklace survived that fire.”
The Inside Man: A Dublin Nights Novel Page 12