Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family Book 3)

by Harley Stone

  Releasing my death grip on the neck of the bottle, I tried to sit up. Bad idea. The spinning intensified.

  Fuck it.

  Lying back down on the pristine bamboo floors, I stared at the high ceilings that led to huge windows offering a breathtaking view of the strip. I’d appreciated that view for the approximately two minutes I’d been vertical upon entering my new apartment. Yep, this place with its granite countertops, caveman shower, and enormous walk-in closets was my new home. At least that’s what my sister’s boyfriend, Angel, said when he handed me the keys.

  “We put you up in the condo next door, so you’ll be close. Everything’s taken care of.”

  ‘Put me up’ like I was some sort of invalid who couldn’t take care of myself. I’d helped Bones and a few of Angel’s relatives move my measly belongings into this place, but between the bed on the floor (because I didn’t own a frame) and the rest of the mismatched, second-hand furniture, and the fact I hadn’t paid out a penny, I felt like an outsider invading someone else’s space.

  Home sweet home.

  It’s not that I wasn’t grateful, because I was. Currently jobless with twenty-four dollars and thirty-three cents in my bank account, and my ex-boyfriend bailing on his half of the rent, I was on the fast-track for eviction when Angel and Bones rescued me. Now, I had a beautiful apartment. I couldn’t be happier.

  Or more pathetic.

  I grabbed the bottle of Boone’s Farm and put it to my lips, tipping it up to get the very last drop. My twenty-first birthday had sneaked by while I’d been in the hospital with my sister, and now I was celebrating, alone, with the first bottle I’d legally purchased for myself.

  See? Fucking pathetic. The only thing more pathetic was this stupid little pity party I couldn’t seem to drag myself out of. My life wasn’t all bad. Markie was out of the hospital and recovering next door. No doubt she’d eventually realize she’d missed my twenty-first birthday and feel like shit. I was just petty enough that her inevitable guilt made me feel better, especially now that I knew she was going to live.

  Markie had almost died.

  I still couldn’t wrap my mind around that. She was my big sister, the strong one, the daring one, the humanitarian. For all her good deeds and amazing strength, it had taken Angel’s money, power, and influence to save her. There was a message in that, but my mind was too lit up to focus on it.

  I needed the other bottle of Boone’s Farm, that was currently chilling in my fridge like cheap shit-wine should. Wine wouldn’t help, though. This bottle hadn’t even touched the problem I was trying to drink away.

  I was lonely.

  So fucking lonely, I felt numb. My last boyfriend, the guy who promised he’d get me my “big break” had scammed me out of my money, given me some shitty drugs that almost killed me, and disappeared. I hadn’t seen that asshole since Halloween, and since I was out of money, I probably wouldn’t ever see him again.

  Good.

  I didn’t need that asshole. I didn’t need anyone. So what, if my fridge and bank account were both empty? I’d figure that shit out. After all, I’d survived worse. I had people who loved me and a place to stay. I was fine, just a little alone, but I knew how to fix that. Digging my cell phone out of my jeans pocket, I thumbed it on. No missed calls, no texts, nothing.

  What did I expect? Markie was probably asleep or being pampered by Angel, and since I’d been focused on my non-existent singing career, loser waitress job, and shady ex-boyfriend for the past year, I hadn’t exactly had time to focus on building friendships.

  There was one friend I could call…

  Thumbing through my contacts, I hovered over Bones’s number. My feelings toward Bones were a complicated mess woven together with threads of desire and frustration. Regardless, alcohol-enhanced fantasies about his big beefy hands holding me down as he fucked me had my fingers flying across the keys.

  Me: Will you please come help me move my bedroom furniture around?

  Bones: Sure. Be right there.

  Proud of myself for such quick thinking while my brain cells were drunk and starving, I dropped my phone and started shimmying out of my skinny jeans. I planned to seduce that sexy, mysterious man if it was the last thing I did. The tight ass pants barely crept down, and my squirming made me woozy. Swallowing back bile, I fought to remember the plan: slip into sexy lingerie and seduce Bones. How the hell was I going to do that when I couldn’t even get off the floor? I’d barely gotten my jeans down to my hips when he knocked.

  Shit!

  Knowing I had limited time before he used his key and let himself In, I bucked my hips, simultaneously trying to pull my pants up and sit up. I whacked my head on the bed.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” I swore, abandoning my jeans to rub my head.

  “Ari?” Bones asked, his footsteps nearing. “You okay?”

  Before I could answer, he rounded the corner wearing sweats and a tight T-shirt. I’d never seen him dressed so casually before, and was surprised by the way he even made sweats look good. His gaze swept over my body, zeroing in on my unzipped, low-sitting jeans before he stepped back and looked away.

  “Jesus, Ari, pull up your pants.”

  I’d been hoping the sight of me would make him lose control and profess his undying lust for me, but that’s the lousy reaction I got instead. Eyes burning from humiliation, I struggled to do just that, but my fingers and body wouldn’t cooperate. “I… I need help.”

  For a moment, he didn’t move, and I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. Finally, he reappeared in the doorway, taking in the scene. “What the fuck are you doing? You’re not even old enough to drink,” he said, staring pointedly at the bottle beside my hand.

  Indignation burned away my humiliation, stiffening my body as my hands continued to tug at my jeans. “I’m celebrating. I turned twenty-one yesterday.”

  His expression changed, morphing from anger to surprise. “Shit. Really?”

  “You think I would lie about my birthday?”

  He eyed me and blew out a breath. “No, but why didn’t you say something?”

  “Everyone was a little busy. Will you please help me up?”

  He took two long strides, and then stood by my side, holding out his hand. I reached for it and missed. Swearing under my breath, I tried again. Grabbing my flailing hand, he hefted me to my feet. The room tipped on its side, and so did I. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me and pressing my body against his.

  My hand splayed out across his hard chest, feeling every delicious muscle as I breathed in his scent. I could feel him growing against my stomach, and my entire body reacted, wiggling closer.

  He wanted me.

  Overjoyed about that, my hand drifted south, down the lines of his abs toward the waistband of his sweats. His hand caught mine, pulling it away from his body.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I rubbed against him, stroking his length with my body. “I told you. Celebrating.”

  He hissed in response and pulled away. “Stop that.”

  I closed the distance between us again, meeting his gaze. “Your cock seems to like it.”

  He pushed me back again. “You’re drunk, Ari.”

  “So?” I lifted my chin and kissed his collarbone, right above his T-shirt.

  “Goddammit, stop that!” He pushed me away again, and I lost my footing, swaying. “Fuck!” He pulled me close again. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

  I shrugged, unable to remember. “Yesterday-ish?”

  Shifting me in his arms, he tugged his phone out of his pocket and made a call. “What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked.

  “I don’t do pizza. Too many carbs.”

  “I don’t give a fuck.” His gaze drifted back down my body. “You’re too skinny. You could use some carbs.”

  Well that was sweet, but if I had any hopes of singing professionally, I needed to stay skinny. Nobody wanted to hire a fat singer. I tried to tell him as much, but he igno
red my protests and spoke into the phone, placing an order. My mind tuned out his words to pay closer attention to his body. I snaked an arm around his waist, marveling at the definition I could feel in his lower back.

  He hung up, pocketed his phone, and then tugged up my pants and zipped them closed. Then, keeping one hand at my back and settling the other behind my knees, he picked me up. Carrying me out to the living room, he deposited me on my ratty old sofa before heading into the kitchen and going through my cupboards. Then he dug through the few remaining boxes sitting on the bar.

  Wondering what he was looking for, I said, “The wine’s in the fridge.”

  “You’re not having any more wine,” he snapped. “You need coffee. Where is it? Didn’t you grab any food from your old apartment?”

  “No. I did grab the coffee pot, though.”

  “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He went out the door shutting it behind him.

  I considered crawling into the kitchen for the other bottle of Boones Farm, but before the idea had time to take root, he was back and making more noise in my kitchen. The smell of coffee filled my apartment, and moments later he brought me a cup. Thanking him, I took a sip. It was way too good.

  “Did you put sugar in this?”

  “Yes. Drink it. You need it.”

  Damn, he was bossy. I wanted to object, but the coffee was tasty, and I couldn’t put it down. Taking another sip, I leaned back and closed my eyes. As I finished the cup, pizza arrived. Bones brought it to the coffee table and opened both boxes.

  “Plates?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “They might be in a box somewhere.”

  “Fuck it. Eat.”

  Again with the bossiness. Still, the smell was making my mouth water. When was the last time I ate? I honestly couldn’t remember. Over the past several days, I’d been so worried about Markie I hadn’t wanted to leave her side. Then, while she was recovering enough to come home, I was busy packing and moving. My life had turned upside down, and eating seemed like one more unnecessary, expensive complication I didn’t have the time or money for.

  When I didn’t immediately grab a slice of pizza, Bones placed one in my hands. It was loaded with all kinds of toppings I wasn’t sure that I’d like, but I took a bite anyway. All the delicious carbs danced over my taste buds, and before I knew it, I’d scarfed down the entire slice.

  “Have another,” Bones said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to get sick.”

  He eyed me for a moment before nodding. “When do you work next?”

  “When I find a job.”

  His brow furrowed. “What about the restaurant at the Pelican?”

  “They fired me for missing work while Markie was in the hospital.”

  “That’s bullshit. I’ll take care of it.”

  Bones and Angel were the type of men who got shit done. Their power, money, and influence could even sway Casinos. Hell, Angel’s family probably owned all the casinos. Still, I wanted to stand on my own two feet. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’ll find another job.”

  “No, you won’t. They fired you for taking care of your sister, and that’s bullshit. I’m not letting them get away with that.”

  “So, you’re gonna march in there and demand they give me my job back? Bet I’m going to be super popular then.”

  He grabbed my hand. “Ari, trust me.”

  Strangely enough, I did trust Bones. I knew he worked for the mafia and probably did all sorts of shady shit, but he was the first man I’d trusted since my dad died.

  “Okay,” I said.

  His gaze drifted down to my lips and something flared to life in his eyes. Before I could think too much about it, he pulled back, putting distance between us as he closed the pizza box. “Good. I got you something.” He carried the rest of the pizza to the kitchen before returning with a small chocolate cake and a battery-operated tea light candle.

  “We don’t have much in the way of birthday candles. This is the best I could do on short notice.”

  Emotion choked me up as I looked from him, to the cake, to the candle. “It’s… It’s perfect. Thanks, Bones.”

  “We’ll do something bigger and better once Markie’s recovered enough, but I couldn’t let you celebrate without a cake.”

  He was apologizing for not doing more, and I was overwhelmed that he’d done this much. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

  Setting the cake down on the coffee table, he said, “All right, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll hold the candle up and when you blow on it, I’ll turn it off like you blew it out.”

  It was ridiculous. And sweet. I giggled and nodded.

  “Sometimes you just gotta improvise, babe.”

  Life sure as hell hadn’t gone my way lately, but if this was what improvising looked like… celebrating my belated birthday with a sexy, thoughtful man… I was all in.

  Maybe someday soon I’d even get Bones to take down my pants, instead of just pulling them up.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bones

  ARIANA HAD NO goddamn clue what she did to me. I’d kept my hands off her, because she was young and fucked up, and I wasn’t the type of man who took advantage of that. But now she was twenty-one and sprawled out on her bedroom floor with her pants open and low, showing off her flat stomach and her sexy black thong.

  And, she was shit-faced.

  Eyes full of lust, she stared at me, tugging up her shirt ever so slightly to reveal more soft, smooth skin. I wanted it under my fingertips. I wanted to touch and caress her. I wanted to bend her over her bed and fuck her until she was screaming out my name, begging for release.

  But she came with baggage and wasn’t someone I could fuck and leave, and I didn’t need any drama in my life.

  I resisted. Then, I helped her up and she started grinding on me. Grinding. Against my dick. Fucking heaven and torture all in one.

  Knowing I needed to sober her ass up before I gave her what she so clearly wanted, I ordered us food and made her coffee, all while thinking about the shit I wanted to do to her. About all the ways I wanted to make her moan. I could tell she wanted it almost as much as I did, but no way was I about to screw with Markie’s drunk little sister.

  So, I fed her pizza and cake and tucked her into bed with a mixing bowl beside her in case she got sick. Trying not to think about the way she grabbed my shirt and begged me to fuck her, I let myself out of her condo and locked up behind me. By the time I got back to the apartment I shared with Angel (and now Markie, too), it was almost midnight, and I needed to head out soon.

  Angel sat on the sofa, hovered over his laptop working. He gave me a nod as I walked in and went back to work.

  “How’s Markie?” I asked, slipping into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

  “Good. Sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I came out here to work. What are you up to?”

  I was closer to Angel than either of my real brothers. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, because he knew I wouldn’t lie to him. And although Angel was neck-deep in the family business, his duties ran more toward technology, where mine encompassed anything one of the bosses told me to do. Work was on a need-to-know basis, and Angel rarely needed to know what I was doing. Unless, of course, it conflicted with guarding him. But since he’d been tied up between the hospital and the apartment for the past week, he was probably going out of his mind with boredom.

  “Just got back from Ari’s,” I said, taking my water into the living room. I sat beside him on the sofa and glanced at his screen. He was working on specs for some new gadget.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I nodded. “For the most part. She was drunk. Apparently her twenty-first birthday was yesterday and we all missed it.”

  “Shit. Markie’s been so out of it, I’m sure she has no idea what day it is. I’ll remind her next time she wakes up.”

  “Or give it a few days,” I said with a shrug. “We got piz
za and a cake.”

  Angel gave me a lopsided grin. “Did you sing to her?”

  “Fuck no, I didn’t sing to her. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  He chuckled, giving me side-eye as he went back to his laptop. “Markie says Ari’s got a thing for you, you know? Be careful with her. She’s been through some shit.”

  Ariana had made her feelings toward me known multiple times tonight, although it sounded more like she wanted to fuck me than date me. She hadn’t opened up to any of us about what had happened to her in the year she’d lived in Vegas alone. Angel and I had run a background check on her, and she had nothing. The night we met her, she was jacked up on some shitty drugs and her organs were in danger of shutting down. I’d found her while looking for her chooch of an ex-boyfriend, Matt Deter.

  Some people find rock bottom in Vegas. Ariana found rock bottom’s basement.

  The girl was a knock-out, but she made shitty choices and half the time I didn’t know whether to scold her or comfort her. It bugged me that Angel had told me to be careful with her, like I was some asshole who couldn’t see how fucked up she was.

  Like I was the kind of asshole who’d take advantage of her when she was drunk and trying to shed her clothes…

  Damn, I wish I was that asshole.

  “I’m aware, Angel,” I replied. My voice held a little more bite than I’d intended.

  “I know.” He shrugged me off, unaffected by my tone.

  Glancing at the clock on the wall, I stood. “I gotta get out of here.”

  Angel looked up, his mouth open, before glancing at his bedroom door and closing it. My friend had cabin fever for sure. Markie needed someone with her twenty-four, seven, though, and he wasn’t about to pass that job on to anyone else.

  We all had trust issues coming out our asses.

  “What’s Carlo have you doing?” Angel asked.

  I told him as much as I knew about Joey Durante before slipping out of the apartment. Angel promised to look Joey up and see if he could find anything on him while I headed to the fight club one of our informants frequented.

  ***