“Bye, Rocco!” Lily looks up at me and grins, a stream of glaze drizzling out of the corner of her mouth. “This is yummy. I wonder if Snickers would like it. I think I’ll bring it home for him.”
Shaye lifts her head, her blue eyes holding the question that I still have yet to answer. Then she blinks, and it’s gone, as if she already knows the answer. She thinks she does, but she doesn’t. Only I do.
That sonofabitch Rocco thinks he was sending me a message with that little stunt. Like I’ve never considered what can happen to the people I love if I make one misstep, piss off one too many goons, take a little too much away from those who can’t catch a break.
It’s why I sent Shaye away all those months ago.
It’s because I love her, and I need to keep her safe. There’s too much at risk, especially with Cappodamo lurking in the shadows.
Sounds good in theory, but the reality? Fucking torture of the worst kind, more so now that I’ve had a taste of what can never be mine.
It doesn’t stop me from wanting her, but it has to stop me from taking her…again and again and again.
My self-control when it comes to Shaye is stretched to the point where it’s going to snap like a rubber band. I need to keep her safe. I need her with me. I need to keep her safe. I need her with me. Christ, I feel like there’s a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between my ears, goading me.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Lilibelle.” Shaye gives Lily a quick hug and tucks a stray strand of hair back into her hat. “Goodbye, Nico.”
She’s gone before I can even respond. Maybe it’s better that way. I can’t seem to get the right words out, not that I have a clue what those words even are. I don’t deserve to have a captive audience if I can’t figure out how to deliver my message. Still, I watch as she disappears into the crowd of mall-goers, wondering why I can’t get this right, and if she’d even give me a chance to do just that.
Lily shoves another spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. “I still need to get another friend for Mr. Pickles.” She holds out a little chick in her tight fist. “You only gave me enough money for one stuffed animal.”
Lucky Mr. Pickles. Guy has more friends than I do. I guess they’re easy to keep when you can’t speak or move…basically, when you can’t do anything that’ll alienate them.
Hmm. Maybe I’ll have that kind of luck in my next life.
Shaye
“What the fuck were you doing with Nico the other night?”
I jump about three feet into the air, my fingers freezing over my laptop keyboard. “Jesus, Max! You almost gave me a heart attack!”
Max glares at me with his large arms folded over his broad chest. You never want to meet my brother in a dark alley. At twenty-four, he’s more built than most older guys, and he’s fast. He can have someone on the ground kissing their own ass in seconds. But he doesn’t only use his body. He’s always packing. It’s something he’s tried to hide from me, something he still denies to this day. But baby sister is on to him. On to a lot more than they give me credit for.
“Tell me why you were at his house, Shaye.”
“Seriously? I went over there to give my condolences. His grandfather just died. I’m not completely heartless.” I smirk, hoping to lighten the moment, but he’s still not convinced. I can tell by the way he’s seething. Dammit. How the hell could he possibly know anything, unless…no. No fucking way would Nico ever tell him, right? I mean, the way he kicked me to the curb? He must know Max would shoot him between the eyes for treating his sister like that, after stripping her of her virginity. Oh yeah, that’d be grounds for cold-blooded murder in Max’s eyes. Best friend or not.
“You were at the funeral. You didn’t tell him you were sorry while you were there?”
“I didn’t speak to him at the funeral. He was kind of…occupied.” The memory of Nico flanked on all sides by girls in tight black dresses with huge boobs, dark red lips, and bleached blonde extensions makes my stomach roll. His typical whore-type times about five. Go big or go home? No, his MO is more like go big and take them all home.
My pulse throbs against my neck. God, the thought alone of his tongue taunting every inch of my body makes my skin prickle with need. Sonofabitch. How did I let this happen? I was so good while I was away. I’d only fantasized about him a few days a week, tops. Maybe there were vibrators involved, but who cares? I’d gotten over the hump, came to terms with the loss of my friend, the one I’d carried a torch for since I was old enough to notice boys.
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Can I not think of anything other than humping right now? I’m trying to maintain my cool so my brother doesn’t go ape shit on me for seeing Nico. I know the rules. Stay far away or else. Nico’s life isn’t a safe one. Nico makes dangerous choices. Nico is on the radar of too many thugs. Nico is Max’s best friend.
Bottom line? He is not allowed to see me naked.
Except…he did.
I’d managed to avoid the rumblings from deep within my core every time we were in the same room together growing up. I fought them hard, but in the end, I fell victim. And that fall felt so fucking good. I’d do it again, and again, in a hot second. Totally worth the risk of being murdered by my father and my brother for disregarding their wishes.
“I think you’re full of shit.” His dark eyes narrow and he creeps toward me. “What happened when you went over there?”
I slam the lid of my laptop and jump out of my chair. “I told you! Nothing! You know, I’m an adult, Max. I am perfectly capable of handling myself. I’ve known him and his family for how long? It was only right to go over there.” Oh, yes. So very right.
“Look,” his voice softens. “I’m just worried about you. The past couple of days…I don’t know, you haven’t been your normal, annoying self.” He reaches out and gives me a noogie, of all things.
I squeal and jump backward. “Asshole! I just flat-ironed my hair!”
“Drama queen.” He flashes a smirk, displaying the dimple in his left cheek. For all of his less-endearing qualities, like running as hot as a fireplace poker, he’s got dark Mediterranean looks that make women swoon at his feet. No joke. I’ve seen it firsthand. I, on the other hand, take after our northern Italian side. “Hot date tonight?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, with my psychology textbook.”
“Want to go out and get some ice cream?”
“It’s freezing out!” I wrap my arms around myself as if the cold from outside had suddenly infiltrated the house.
“We’re not going to eat it outside, dipshit.” He pulls on his jacket. “Come on, if the cold is too much for you to bear, I’ll take you to Starbucks instead. You can get a tall, nonfat, caramel macchiato, no foam with an extra shot, or some frou frou shit like that.”
“Actually, I could do with a hot chocolate. With regular old marshmallows.” I lift an eyebrow at him. “Not everyone needs frou frou.”
“Glad to hear it.” He tosses me my coat and I slide my arms into it. “Did you see Mom and Dad?”
I nod. “Yeah, they took off an hour ago for that dinner.”
He doesn’t say anything, just mumbles in response.
The front door swings open, and a cold gust of air chills my bones. Good Lord, do I love going to school in Miami. I can’t wait to get back there. A shiver runs through me. Especially after…everything.
That bastard. If I so much as breathe a word of his behavior to Max, he’d be over there pummeling the shit out of Nico in less time than it’d take me to blink.
But I can’t for two reasons.
Number one, I’d have to come clean about being so very dirty.
Number two, my dad would have a coronary.
Thank you, no. I’ll just suck it up and count the days until I can hop a plane back to sunny Florida. I’m sure I can find some hot basketball player back at school who can take my mind off that dirt bag. And yes, campus is crawling with six-and-a-half-foot, tanned, muscular men, so no shortage of potential candidates there.
I slide into the front seat of my brother’s Escalade and buckle up for the ride. I usually end up clutching the sides of my seat when Max takes the wheel. Judging by the amount of ice lining the streets, I’m hoping he’ll go a little easier so I can make it to tomorrow alive and in one piece.
And yay, chocolate. Because I really need to be even more stimulated than I am right now, courtesy of the salacious memories that continue to loop through my mind.
Nico
I rub the back of my neck to loosen the knot at the base of my skull. The conversation with my father has been weighing on me all day, and as much as I need to talk to someone, I know I have to keep my mouth shut.
Talking has no place in this life. We don’t share our feelings because that is perceived as weakness. No, we bottle shit up until we’re ready to explode.
Then we continue to keep a lid on it, because if you don’t, you can get your ass severely mutilated. And since I like my ass just the way it is, I keep quiet.
The streets shine under the glowing light of the full moon. Sheets of black ice lay before me, slick under my Range Rover’s tires. I pull into the Starbucks parking lot and throw the car into park. I lean forward, my head in my hands. Now that Grandpa’s gone, Dad’s stress levels have hit the roof and then exploded out of it. I’m sure there’s more he’s not saying, and I only know what I need to know, which feels like a hell of a lot. But I know there’s plenty to come.
I grab my phone from the center console and glance at the screen. Ignored texts, missed calls…all from Max. I still have to figure out how to break the news about Rocco to him. I can’t avoid him forever.
Our dads had been college buddies, closer than brothers through the years. Naturally, Max and I had been thrown together. The expectation was that the only sons of Joe Salesi and Tony Oriani would have their own bromance. Except Max is a fucking lunatic, always dangling over the edge of sanity, and I’m the complete opposite. But I do what I need to do to keep the peace, and to keep things on an even keel for the family. I play a role. It’s what we all do to survive. You need to know your strengths and keep yourself sharp.
Something told me not to answer his messages yet. Something is off, and I need to figure out what before I open my mouth. My parents were acting strange when I saw them earlier, and nobody volunteered as to the reason why. It amazes me that we can’t even take time to grieve the loss of Grandpa. Too much shit is happening, and it’s time to move on. At least, that’s the expectation.
But I’m not ready. The only comfort I’ve had in the past months came from Shaye. Her soft lips, deep blue eyes I could lose myself in forever, that hot pussy clenched tight around my dick…
Just plain sex. I tried to convince myself that’s all it was. But there was nothing plain about what we did that night.
I’m a goddamn liar. I lied to myself about how I feel, and I lied to her when I told her I wanted her to leave.
I didn’t. I wanted her…no, needed her…to stay.
And now I’m dodging calls from her maniacal brother, who, if he found out I’d so much as seen her in that sexy-as-fuck lingerie, would wrap his beefy hands around my throat and squeeze until my eyeballs popped out of the sockets.
And yes, I’ve seen my best friend do just that to someone for a hell of a lot less.
I take a deep breath and step out of the car. No sense in fantasizing about what I won’t ever have again.
The front door to Starbucks chimes when I pull it open, and a whoosh of hot air blows into my face as I step inside. I promised a tearful Lily a hot chocolate and a birthday cake pop. Poor kid has no clue what kind of a life she’s in for, so sweet treats are the least I can do to make my baby sister smile, especially after everything she’s been through this week.
I step up to the counter and open my mouth to order when my eyes fall to a white and green cake pop with eyes and what looks like sprinkles on its head. Is that supposed to be a parrot? Maybe Lily would like that one, too.
“Dude! What the fuck?”
Jesus Christ, do I have GPS on me or something? Not that I’d be surprised, but shit. I never come here. What the hell are the odds? With a slight roll of my eyes, I slowly twist around. But Max isn’t the person my gaze lands on first.
Shaye’s cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips stretched into a straight line, eyes a million times more frigid than the temperature outside the café. They narrow at me, as if she’s trying to ice me from the inside out. She’s still pissed. Fuck, is that why Max has been trying to get in touch? Did she tell him?
She folds her arms over her puffer jacket, fists clenched. My gaze wanders to Max. He doesn’t have that murderous look in his crazed eyes. Yet. That’s a good sign.
“Hey, guys.” And my brain shuts down, just like that. I can’t even form a single thought while Shaye’s eyes burn a hole into me.
“How’s your dad?” Max’s expression is sympathetic. It only lasts for a short time, but it’s more than anyone else ever gets to see of his human form.
“Hanging in there. Working nonstop. You know how he deals with shit.” I try to keep my eyes focused on my best friend’s face, but Shaye’s menacing glare is almost magnetic. I want to look away, but I can’t. It pulls me back every time my eyes stray. “How’s everything with you guys? No big dates tonight?”
“Nah. My parents left for that dinner about an hour ago, and I figured I’d hang out with my best girl.” He slings an arm around Shaye’s shoulders.
“Best. That’s impressive, considering how big the pool is,” she mumbles, never breaking her icy stare.
I furrow my brow. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, you know, the thing down in Atlantic City? Dad and some of the guys have been planning it for weeks.” Max rubs the back of his neck and averts his eyes, almost as if he realized he’s said too much. “Maybe he didn’t want to bother you guys with the details, you know, since you had so much going on with your grandfather.”
That’s him shoveling bullshit. And it’s piled pretty high behind him. Nobody told us anything about this dinner. My parents are at home, cuddled on the couch watching Inside Out with Lily. If there had been an invitation, I’m sure my dad would have at least mentioned it when I’d met him at the office. Was he accidentally on purpose left off the guest list because of what’s going on with Tony Oriani and his pathetic power play?
Shit’s about to get real. This missed invite has to be about my dad’s recent promotion. Tony is trying to edge out my dad because he wants a chance to grab control, and that’s why they’re all in AC. He might as well have just pulled the trigger and pushed my dad into his own shallow grave.
And now I have to deal with Rocco. Faster than I’d thought, based on this new information. I need to get Rocco on our side and figure out how I’m going to break the news to Max that I betrayed him. It won’t matter that I was the only one willing to help him get back on his feet after he blew the whistle on Rocco. The only thing that will matter is that I’ve taken his arch nemesis under my wing in an attempt to cripple Tony’s plans for a coup.
I’m so fucked.
The tension in the air almost chokes me. I need to get home. My phone pings, and I grab it out of my back pocket. It’s Lily. She wants to know when I’ll be back with her cake pops. Fuck it, I’ll grab her some Starburst jelly beans from the drug store on my way home. I can’t stand here for another second while the fate of my family is being decided by a bunch of fucking goons. And I can’t look at Shaye without wanting to pull her close and bury my head in her neck, praying that all this shit around us could just disappear and leave us alone to be together.
I take my coffee from the barista and pull down the rim of my baseball cap. “Guys, I’ve gotta go. Have fun. Max, I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Okay, man. Drive safe. That ice is dangerous.” He takes one final look at me, one I recognize all too well, and it sends a jolt zipping down my spine.
That nagging feeling is back to gnaw at me. I need to get
the hell out of here. I sidestep a large sheet of ice on the way to my car and slide into the driver’s seat. So many thoughts are flying through my mind, and while I should really be focused on the ones about my dad’s business dealings and why he’s suspiciously been left off of an invite list, it’s Shaye who’s front and center.
I turn the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life, heat blasting out of the vents at my face. I fucked up, big time. I let this happen, and now I’ve put her in danger, too. Danger by association. These people, they have eyes everywhere. If they’re trying to push my dad out of the way, they’ll be tracking his every move…my every move.
They’d have seen Shaye come to my house.
I’d been warned time and again to stay away, but I couldn’t control myself. Too much had been weighing me down, and for once, I wanted to give in to my own emotions. So I did a fucking horrible thing. And then I did something even worse.
Now she hates me, and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.
I throw the car into drive and head toward the parking lot exit. I flip on my right turn signal and pull onto the road. I can feel the slick road beneath my tires, and if I brake too hard, I’ll spin out. I tap the gas lightly since there’s a stop sign not too far up the street.
Snow begins to fall, and I turn on the windshield wipers. My eyes fall to the center console. Fuck me! I forgot the jelly beans. I let out a deep sigh. Dammit. I can’t go home without something for her. I’ll have to go around the block.
At this point, I’m going about twenty, but I’m not taking any chances.
Ha. Ironic that now I’m concerned about taking chances.
I slow down for the stop sign and peer around me. There’s barely any light, other than what is coming from the houses lining the street. It’s one of the things I hate about the suburbs of New Jersey. You can’t see anything at night. And with all the deer lurking, waiting to run across even the busiest of roads, you could be severely screwed if you’re not careful.
I remove my foot from the brake and slowly press down on the gas. The tire makes a loud sound, but the car refuses to move. Shit, I wonder if it’s stuck on a patch of ice. I press a little harder and the car chokes again, but the tire is now loose, and I roll through the sign. If I were going home, I’d have gone straight through, but since I need to go back to the drug store, I’ll hang a right that’ll take me back to the nearest strip mall.
Screwing the Mob Page 6