I rushed through the crowd with Scraper on my heels, trying to get through the crush of people. I knew Scraper would stay out of the confrontation until or if he needed to intervene. He had been my guard for the past six years, and while at first we couldn’t stand the sight of each other, he’d grown on me over the years. After growing up together, I even liked him, and he knew when to step back and let me take the lead so I could prove myself capable to my family, which was a must.
I’d caught a glimpse through the crack in the door of that piece of shit, confirming he was in fact balls deep in pussy that wasn’t mine, and then I waited. I was exceptionally patient, one of my many redeeming qualities. As I stood back in the shadows of the darkened, narrow hallway that led to the bathroom, I tried reining in my anger. It would get me nowhere and cause me to make stupid mistakes. Having a clear head was the only way to go. Hurt had already gone out the damn window. There was no need for that or any other emotion.
Scraper had stayed on the other side as my back-up. He knew the fucker had to pay, exactly as I did. It would actually just be the start of his repercussions. Once my brothers, cousins, and—God help him—father and uncle heard, he would get a hell of a lot worse than what I was about to dish out. It was probably demented, but I was actually happy about that.
After the blonde whore left, swaying her fake ass down the hallway, Antonio came strutting out like the cat who got his mouse. There had been a wide smile across his face and even a bead of sweat on his brow. Before he could see me, I’d lifted my knee with every ounce of power I could muster in my five-foot-ten body and kneed him in his balls. He hunched over, and I helped him to the floor by kicking his legs out from under him. He plummeted to the ground hard, his shoulder taking the weight of the fall. Stupid fuck.
“Just handling some trash. Caught him fucking some blond in the bathroom,” I said to Kiera, whose beautiful face turned glacial in seconds. The smooth skin around her eyes narrowed with lines as she released a heavy breath.
Kiera lifted the her heel of her beautiful, hot pink pumps and smashed them into Antonio’s nose, causing blood to splatter at my feet and across the floor. I had been going for no blood, but shit happened.
“Dammit, I just got these boots, too.” I pretended to whine, stomping my foot for added emphasis. In actuality, I couldn’t give a shit. I would go buy new ones tomorrow.
Never in my life had I wanted for anything, but don’t think for a moment that I hadn’t worked for every penny of it. In my family, you learned very early on everything you got, you worked hard for. Your blood, sweat, and tears went into every dollar you spent; hence, why Kiera and I wanted a fun night out, hoping to get a reprieve from life. Life had other ideas, though.
“We’ll shop tomorrow,” Kiera spat down on Antonio as he started shrieking nasty names at us. Some in Italian, some in English. I ignored him as I hacked up a wad and spit it down on his worthless body.
Spitting on someone in my family was the formal yet disgusting sign of a person being dead to you. If someone was trash and unworthy of you, you spit. It was pretty damn gross, but people understood it and normally asked no questions once it was done. If they did, they were more than likely going to get the shit beat out of them again. In Antonio’s case, I hoped he would, just for fun.
“All right, ladies. It’s done.” Scraper slid up to us and rested his hands on our shoulders, giving a slight, comforting squeeze.
I wasn’t quite ready to give it up. The tension in my body was still wound tight and needed release, but I looked over to Kiera who nodded in agreement, deflating my plans.
Kiera was always my voice of reason. It was why we worked so well together. We complimented each other to a T.
“The boys will be here soon to clean up. Let’s go get you ladies a drink,” Scraper said with another squeeze as we stepped farther back, and I tried to pull out of my tension.
Antonio tried hard to stand, his feet and knees wobbling underneath him as he groaned in pain with each movement. He was able to partially get up, but he was bent at the waist and kept shifting from one foot to the other, like either one he chose hurt too much to put his full weight on.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this bitch!” Antonio snapped at me. He didn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘you just got your ass handed to you, so shut the fuck up.’
Scraper pulled both Kiera and I behind him then landed a hard punch to Antonio’s jaw. The loud crack echoed through the hall, even over all the boisterous music playing. Antonio’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell onto the floor, his head landing with an audible thud on the tile. His body was unmoving from what I hoped was just being passed out. I didn’t need to explain this man’s death to my father or uncle.
“Come. Now,” Scraper commanded, looking down at the piece of shit. “Or else a bullet goes through the fucker’s head.”
I rolled my eyes. While I knew he would totally do it, I also knew he would pick a more discreet location than right by the bathroom in a bar. Too many witnesses. Even though no one was around us at the moment, a gunshot would surely bring everyone running.
“Let me wash up.” I didn’t wait for a response from either of them, entering the bathroom to clean off Antonio once and for all. I hated having Antonio’s blood on me in any way, even on my shoes.
Months of my life were wasted on that piece of shit, time I would never get back. I sighed, wishing things had been different. I thought he might have actually been the one. Who was I shitting? The one, my ass. He didn’t exist for me.
After I was done, I stepped out of the bathroom to a waiting Kiera and Scraper.
“Come on, girl. I’m thirsty.” I needed to get something inside of me to calm the hyped up feeling I had coursing through my veins. Love it or hate it, the crash from adrenaline usually sucked, and I wanted to be drunk when it happened. Forgetting seeing Antonio and that whore fucking was an added bonus.
“I bet you are,” Kiera giggled, grabbing my arm and pulling me back up to the VIP section.
Scraper led the way up the side stairs, but I could feel Dune and Case behind us. They were Kiera’s guards. She had two because of the whole being the daughter of the great Vino Lambardoni thing. We each had two other guards who we called Ghost One and Ghost Two. We had met them there, but they hid in the shadows, only coming out when necessary, which was seldom. They were there yet not there. It was eerie in a way, but we got used to it like everything else.
I couldn’t remember a time in my life when she and I hadn’t had guards of some sort tailing our every movement. Most would say it wasn’t normal, but what the hell was normal, anyway? Our fathers did it for our safety, and we accepted that. Although I’m not saying back in the day we hadn’t tried to ditch them and escape the confines of our fathers.
I laughed thinking about it. We had been so dumb and had no understanding of what kinds of threats were out there for us. We were honest to God lucky nothing had happened to us.
Music thumped through the large speakers while men and women shook their asses and everything else they had on the dance floor below us. All of them were oblivious to what just occurred in the back of the bar, which was perfect, easier to clean up. It was also a sure sign life went on even in the midst of someone’s mistakes.
Scraper led us to the plush red velvet chairs with the white trim in our closed off room. We took a seat in the dimly lit space where glass mirrored walls lined the front, allowing a great view of the bar and dance floor.
The waitress with her tight red and white shirt and barely there black shorts approached hastily after we were seated. “What can I get ya, ladies?”
The perkiness of the woman’s voice made me want to wretch. I had been a lot of things in my life, but perky was not one of them, and I was seriously not in the mood for a bubbly cheerleader. I let it go, however, ignoring it.
“Shots!” Both Kiera and I said together then smiled, looking at each other knowingly. I loved how we could always read ea
ch other’s minds. Sometimes it was a bit scary when we could do it from across the room.
“Patrón, please. Just bring the bottle, glasses, and limes,” I said.
She nodded, rushing off down the stairs with Dune’s eyes latched on to her ass. Men.
Kiera leaned back in the chair, her eyes flickering around, surveying our surroundings. She had a radiant beauty about her. Her long, chestnut brown hair in a shade or two different than my own flowed down her back. She had brown eyes with golden specks flashing inside of them, so different than my bluish-green eyes. She drew in any man she wanted, but rarely did she take a guy up on his propositions. She was happy with herself just the way she was, and I loved her dearly.
With Scraper at the entrance of the VIP area, Dune and Case made themselves at home on the other side of the small space, leaning against the wall, mirroring each other with arms crossed over their chests.
We loved having our own area up here. It gave us the opportunity to dance when we wanted and then get away without anyone bothering us unless we wanted them to. It was no secret who we were—personally or professionally—but neither of us ever let that shit go to our heads.
“Antonio had the fucking balls to screw some chick while he was here with you?” Kiera broke the silence between us, obviously not done talking about what had happened. In truth, I wasn’t done, either. I needed to get shit out and calm the hell down.
I chuckled even though I didn’t find any part of it a bit funny; it was just what came out with an evil death twinge to it. “Stupid, huh? And he must have set it up ahead of time because he wanted to make it quick. There’s no way he just picked this chick up tonight. He was in there less than five minutes. I should feel bad for the woman, but I don’t. He never could keep it up long. Loser,” I growled with the laughter. He always had been fast to the punch, but it was one of those things I’d overlooked.
“I thought you said he was good in bed?” She raised her eyebrow in question, staring at me. I had never lied to Kiera and never would.
I shrugged. “Define good. He made me come. Was it mind-blowing? Fuck no, but he made me feel good, told me I was beautiful, blah, blah, blah. He acted like he wasn’t afraid of my dad or brothers beating the shit out him, but who the hell knows?” I wondered if all of that was a lie, too. More than likely, yes.
“Dumbass. He should have worried about you,” Kiera said with another slight giggle.
She had seen my handiwork over the years. Some of it was a bit overdone, but I always had a purpose, like tonight. I wasn’t one of those women who were lovers and not fighters. While I wanted to be, I was more the opposite. I always blamed it on my brothers because I sure as shit didn’t want to blame myself.
“No shit there.” I laughed for real this time. Everyone, including my family sometimes, underestimated me. It worked out in my favor, though. I was a snake—lethal when you pissed me off and would strike when you least expected it. “What a fucking pussy. Did you see him?” I rolled my eyes, waving my hand, unable to help myself. “I didn’t realize how big of one he was until tonight.” Antonio didn’t come off to me like that for all the months I had known him. He had always been a standup guy, even to my father. It was like he did a one-eighty.
“Sorry, babe.” Her arm snaked around my shoulders, and she pulled me to her side, giving me a squeeze as I leaned into her comforting touch. The compassion she gave me filled my heart.
If anything, I knew I would always have her by my side. We might grow old and grey together because no man had the balls to step up to either of our fathers, but we would have each other.
The waitress flounced back into the room, setting glasses full of clear liquid, the bottle, and a bowl of limes onto the small table in front of us. Kiera released me, leaned over, and handed me a shot while taking one for herself. Then she held it high in the air, and I followed. She was clearly in a toasting mood tonight. Fine by me.
“To one day finding Mr. Right who loves to eat pussy and not be one!”
I laughed hard at her words, clinking my glass to hers and watching the clear liquid sway around the glass. We tossed back the shot in unison, and I felt the burn race down my throat then splash into my stomach. I sucked on a lime and squinted at the sourness on my tongue, already thinking it was time for another.
If anything, Kiera’s love life was worse than mine when it came to her family. With her dad—my Uncle Vino—being the head of the family, guys flocked to her, too, but their main goal was to be with the boss’s daughter, marry her, and then take over the business. At least with my dad as second in command, it wasn’t as bad.
Who was I fucking kidding? We were both doomed.
Several shots and some serious lime sucking later, our laughter billowed all around us. My body relaxed, and the tension from the asshole melted away.
I scanned the joint, seeing if there were any potential men in the crowd—hey, I was a free woman now—but none were calling to me. Maybe it was just me. Getting laid had never been the problem; it was all the other shit in my life that came into play. After the night I’d had, I wasn’t feeling it all that much.
There might not be potential men, but that was a moot point as my brother Val, his best friend Ace, and a man I had never seen before—but holy hell would like to see more of—entered the VIP section. I breathed out deeply and quickly turned away from the handsome man, my body fluttering merely being in the same room as him.
What was wrong with me? Men didn’t do this to me. Ever. My eyes connected with my brothers, whose tight brows, sky blue eyes glaring, and thin-lined mouth told me he was pissed as shit. Too damn bad. I was too drunk to care.
“What mess did you get yourself into this time?” Val asked in a clipped tone. Most people would probably fall at his feet and pray for mercy or cower in a corner at that tone. Me? Not so much.
Being my younger brother by two years, he thought it was his job to protect me. For some reason, he thought he was the older sibling and took the overprotective brother thing to another level. Too bad he was wrong.
Val and I were almost carbon copies of each other, with the same dark hair and golden-toned skin. The only difference was Val had blue eyes, while I had ones that were sometimes blue and sometimes green. It simply depended on the lighting. Even with his more rough and demanding features, no one would mistake that we were siblings.
I waved him off, flicking my hand in the air because nothing would tap down his anger. It was too raw in his eyes. Whenever something went badly that involved me, he had serious issues. God love him, but he needed to calm the hell down.
I leaned back in the chair and took a sip of the cranberry juice and patron I’d had the waitress bring a while ago. “Scraper’s handling the cleanup. No big deal,” I told him. It was over and done with, and Scraper had guys taking care of the rest.
“Bullshit. That asshole fucks some bitch in a bathroom while he’s dating my”—he pointed his finger to his chest and pressed firmly for emphasis—“sister. I’ll handle this shit,” he growled deeply, the veins in his head throbbing and his face turning beet red. He was seriously going to have a heart attack before he reached thirty at this rate. He needed to relax and not let this shit get to him so bad.
“No need. He learned his lesson. If he didn’t and comes after me, I’ll take care of it.” I took another drink, feeling maybe a little bit cocky, letting the liquid bounce to my stomach, but by then it didn’t give me any aftereffects.
I had every bit of confidence in myself that I would be able to handle whatever situation came up. Even drunk, I could deal.
“Hey, Val,” Kiera greeted, breaking up the thick tension that was spiraling out of control from my brother. “Take a breath, boy.”
Kiera was my age, only younger by three months, but that didn’t matter with her brothers, either. She dealt with this same shit, so she understood. She normally would have a calming effect on my brother, which she had on most people, but not so much this time.
Va
l turned to Kiera with the same fury, but he lightened up just a tad. “Kiera, your dad’s gonna be pissed you’re in this shit.” He pointed at both of us with a hostile glare, his eyes darting between the two of us. “You know he’s part of the Capella family.”
Since rolling my eyes at him and yelling duh was way too immature, I decided against it. “No shit, Sherlock. I don’t care.” It was my turn to growl at my brother. Family was family. If the Capella’s had a problem, they could deal with their own fuck-up of a member. Not my problem.
“There’s a meeting in a few days with Remeo. This will not go well.” Val shook his head, grabbing the back of his neck. Remeo was the head of Antonio’s family.
“It’s not my fault his dick didn’t stay in his pants. He got what he deserved.” He had, but I was sure I would hear from my father about this and maybe Uncle Vino. However, I wouldn’t change what I had done to that sorry ass. I was only a little pissed at myself for allowing him to leave with his balls still intact.
“Dammit, you think I don’t know that? I just hate this drama shit.” I couldn’t see any of the men in my life being pissed at me. If anything, they would rip Antonio apart, so I was in the clear for the most part. Business-wise, I didn’t work alongside any of them to know what that outcome would be.
“Hi, Ace.” I winked at the man who’s been by my brother’s side since we were kids.
“Hey, babe. How you been?” Ace’s sexy voice fell over the room as he slowly walked closer to me.
I wouldn’t deny for a second that I found Ace dreamy as shit. With his dark hair, deep chocolate eyes, and a body built like an Italian rock, I throbbed every time I saw the man. Problem was, he had a girl and had since high school—Beth.
“Great. Who’s your friend?” I nodded toward him, sweeping my gaze over to the man with sharp denim eyes boring holes right through me, sending shivers down my spine.
Now Ace was hot, but this guy tipped the hot-o-meter by another twenty plus. Broad shoulders pulled his V-neck, black shirt tight, showing every ripple underneath of muscular perfection and giving a glimpse of a slight dusting of dark chest hair. Not the long kind, but the kind that looks like he cut it short, and it was sexy as hell. Tattoos lined his arms and snuck under the sleeves of his shirt, making my mouth water from wanting to lick up and down every muscle. His face was like something chiseled from a damn sculpture, and his beard and slight stash made my thighs quiver. I wouldn’t mind a little rug burn.
The Rocker Who Betrays Me Page 27