On The Ropes: Tapped Out Book 3

by Quinn, Cari

  “She was pregnant, Carly. She and the baby died, because of him. Because of what he was part of. And now he’s back at it again, except he switched sides. He’s going against his father now, and that means whomever gets too close will go down with him.” He grabbed my shoulder and spun me back. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re so sweet, and he’s a fucking bastard—”

  “I love him. Okay? I love him.” Hearing the truth echo around me tore a sob from my chest, one that came without tears. It was the crying equivalent of a dry heave. All the racking shudders, none of the relief of release.

  “Jesus, Car.”

  I wrapped my arms around my waist and bent my head, letting my hair fall down to shield my face. I couldn’t process any of this. As bad as I’d known it was, this was even worse than I’d ever expected. “You don’t know what they did to us at the club. How they made him touch me.”

  Slater gripped my chin and lifted it. “What did he do to you?”

  “Nothing.” I pulled away from him and rushed for the door. I couldn’t talk about this with him.

  The person I needed to speak to was Gio. But since he wouldn’t tell me what I needed to know, I’d have to do some research of my own. At least I’d try to find out if Olivia truly was in Georgia like Slater seemed to think. If she was, that meant that whomever was hassling my sister was closer to home—and most likely, closer to Gio.

  Would that be enough to make him turn away from Marco and Lorenzo and the rest? Or would he just leave us all twisting in the wind?

  “Carly,” Slater called, sounding contrite. “Come back. I’m sorry. We’ll talk.”

  I kept walking up the hall. Later, I’d worry about Slater. Right now, I needed to worry about my sister.

  And myself.

  Eighteen

  That night, I waited through Carly’s sets at the club and drove her home instead of to my place. She didn’t have a lot to say, and I figured the break was a good thing.

  It would be a permanent one soon enough.

  That pattern of reduced communication didn’t change over the next week. I wasn’t surprised, what with her two jobs and school and studying, but I also wasn’t stupid. Her sudden busyness probably also had to do with finding out my apartment was loaded with weaponry.

  As much as I wanted to let her go gracefully, I couldn’t. I had a special meeting with Marco and Lorenzo next Wednesday, and I had no idea what the result would be. I’d been pushing for more responsibility within the organization, hoping to get close enough to Roberto to be able to time his comings and goings. All I needed was an opening.

  Classic bullet behind the ear, end of story. For him—and me.

  But it wouldn’t be easy. Forget getting close to Roberto, I had enough trouble getting close to his underboss Lorenzo. I suspected this all went back to the conclusions I’d drawn at Mia and Fox’s office at The Cage. They didn’t trust me. This was likely all an elaborate setup, and Carly and I were pawns.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t use their own mistrust against them. I’d work whatever angle I was given. And whatever they threw at me at that meeting, I would throw back.

  Saturday night, Carly finished dancing early, and as always, I was waiting. She’d done her shifts back to back instead of with a break in between, which meant she was free to leave the club earlier than usual.

  What I should’ve done was drive her home and ensured she got inside safely. If she was shutting down, it was for the best. Prolonging the agony wouldn’t do either of us any favors.

  Instead, I took her to the Fall Festival carnival I’d seen being held on a high school field in Brooklyn earlier that day.

  We got there late, only about an hour before closing. Luckily, it didn’t shut down entirely until after midnight. Some of the game booths had gone dark, or were about to, but some were still open, as were most of the food stands and the rides. As uncommunicative as Carly had been for the past week, she perked up at the sight of rows of balloons just waiting to be popped and the brightly colored Ferris Wheel spinning in the cool, crisp night.

  “Want to play or ride?” I asked, hoping to see her smile. It was frightening what lengths I’d go to in order to lessen the heaviness in her beautiful eyes.

  Heaviness I’d put there, no doubt.

  She tugged at the thin gray cardigan sweater she’d pulled on after her set and bit her lip as she studied the booths and rides. “Actually, I’d like a caramel apple. And cotton candy.” She laughed softly and shook her head. “My dad used to take me and Ame to the Field Days every year. We’d try to outdo each other on the ringtoss, and Ame would always win at Whack-A-Mole. But no matter who won, Dad got us both caramel apples and cotton candy.”

  “Then a caramel apple and cotton candy it is.” I led the way to the booth that had both.

  “Don’t you want any?” she asked once I’d ordered just for her. Then she made a face. “Oh, you’re training. You’re no fun. Just like Ame and Fox.”

  “I’ll have some of yours.”

  “Pfft.”

  I handed her the caramel apple and cotton candy as we started to walk, smiling at how her eyes widened at the size of both. She was so expressive, never hiding a thing from me.

  Until recently.

  She took a bite of the apple and handed it over to me so she could tear into the bag. Before I could deflect it, she was shoving a mouthful of orange and cherry cotton candy into my mouth, and I ate it because she was laughing and that was all I’d wanted.

  “I bet that busted your diet,” she teased, thumping me in the stomach.

  “I’ll live.”

  Just like that, her face closed off. She took another bite of her apple, but her momentary relish was gone.

  “What about a game?” The question came out sounding desperate as we walked past the balloon booth again. I gestured to the prizes in puffy plastic bags waving in the breeze from the eaves of the booth. “I’ll win you a big stuffed animal.”

  She frowned. “No one ever wins the big stuffed animals on this game. You have to pop about a thousand balloons to get anything more than those tiny ones.”

  “I can do it.” It wasn’t much of an offering in the scheme of things, but dammit, I could give her this.

  “You’re just going to waste your money,” she called as I rolled up my sleeves and walked over to the guy manning the booth.

  It took twenty minutes and about twenty-five popped balloons, but I won her choice of the house’s prizes. At my side, she stared up at them, her eyes as large as moons.

  “No way.” She pointed to a huge panda. “Even those ones in the back?”

  “Even those.” The guy didn’t seem too pleased about it. From the looks of things, he hadn’t moved too many of them today.

  I expected her to go for the panda, but she surprised me by pointing to a giant Dalmatian wearing a red fire hat. “That one, please.”

  “You won’t be able to carry it.” I laughed and shook my head as she offloaded her candy to me. “It’s bigger than you.”

  “I can so carry it.” She swished her long hair back and grabbed the Dalmatian away from the guy, hugging it to her with a zeal that made even the carnival worker laugh. “See? Mine.”

  Amused, I smoothed the hat into place on the dog. “You’re welcome.”

  Once we’d walked past the booth, she leaned up on her tiptoes and surprised me with a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I love it.”

  I slid my hand into her hair and turned her face, capturing her mouth before she could slip back. I needed her taste inside me again, like an alcoholic craves his last drink. There was no twelve-step-program that could erase the softness of her glossy lips parting, or her candy-sweet tongue slicking over mine.

  Too quickly, the kiss turned from gentle to hungry. I reached down to pull her against me, only to feel a large dog nose jamming into my throat.

  “Oops.” She giggled and pulled the dog down out of the way. Sort of. He was too big to tuck anywhere.
“Sorry.”

  “Did you buy him as a kiss deterrent?”

  “Yeah, right. As if anything would keep us from kissing.”

  You did. You haven’t touched me all week.

  But because that sounded a little too close to the petulance of a kid denied his favorite candy bar, I remained silent.

  We headed toward the rides just as one of the carnival workers yelled out that it was the last ride of the night.

  “Ferris Wheel?” I stroked my hand down the long, loose length of her hair. “Maybe we can leave your new friend on the ground so I can kiss you at the top.”

  She cast me a look under her lashes, her cheeks pink from either pleasure or the evening’s chill. November had started off cold this year, warning that winter wouldn’t be far behind. “Mr. Costas, that’s a surprisingly romantic suggestion from a hardened fighter such as yourself.”

  From the sudden heat at the tips of my ears, it was my turn to flush. I disguised my reaction by pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “If you really want to talk about hard…”

  She didn’t toss back a flirty comment as she would’ve before, just simply smiled and marched up to the operator of the Ferris wheel. “Sir, could you please help me?”

  I didn’t know any red-blooded male who could say no to her. Or female, for that matter.

  A moment later, she’d convinced the operator to keep an eye on her stuffed animal. She handed it over, and the guy stared after her with a dazed expression as she mounted the steps to the ride.

  Instead of getting jealous, I smiled as I paid. “I know how you feel, buddy.” I patted him on the back.

  “Oh, she’s yours?” There was no missing the longing in his voice.

  My smile dimmed. “Right now, she is.”

  Tomorrow would come soon enough.

  Awkwardly, I wedged in beside her.

  She smiled. “Sure you’re gonna fit, big man?”

  “I would if I could sit you between my legs.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not safe.” But she wiggled until half her body was draped over me and I fit into the seat. Not well, but I fit.

  “This probably isn’t either, but I’ve got you.” I held her candy in one hand and hooked my other arm around her as the wheel started to move. “I won’t let you fall.”

  Neither of us spoke as the wheel turned. As we climbed, I took in the lights of the city spread out in front of us with an awe I rarely felt anymore. The navy sky was studded with stars, as if someone had tossed a handful of diamonds and they’d scattered everywhere. Darkness hovered at the horizon, before opening up into a world of light and movement. Buildings speared up, so large on the ground and so small up here.

  Just as I was small, one life out of billions.

  The beauty that surrounded me staggered me. The dazzling play of lights, and reddish-gold curls that teased the back of my hand. With her laughter filling my head and her warmth tucked into my side, at that moment I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

  Then she lifted her face and whispered, “Kiss me,” and I realized that I could.

  Touching my mouth to hers was like breathing. It didn’t require thought. I leaned into her and let the kiss spin out, as tender and chaste as a junior high schooler’s after his first dance. There were no thrusting tongues, no roaming hands. Just the comfort and thrill of her lips heating under mine and returning the pleasure I gave her tenfold.

  When the ride ended, we walked off hand-in-hand. The magic of spinning in the night air had restored some of the closeness we’d lost over the last week. I knew I shouldn’t have been happy about that, but I’d always been a contrary bastard.

  We’d gotten about ten feet when she let out a squeal and untangled our fingers. “Spotty!”

  Spotty, it turned out, was the Dalmatian we’d left behind. She ran back to get him from the ride operator, and we carted him and her candy to my truck.

  The ride back to my place was quiet, but not like the ride to the carnival had been. This was a peaceful silence, broken occasionally by the sounds of Carly plowing through her cotton candy. She’d eaten more than half the bag by the time we arrived at my building.

  “Sure you don’t want some?” she asked as we rode the elevator upstairs. “It’s almost gone.”

  “There’s only one thing I want a taste of.” Slipping my fingers in the waistband of her skirt, I tugged her closer and swallowed her laughter with my mouth on hers.

  Halfway through the kiss, I glanced down and saw the eager-eyed stuffed dog staring at me. Carly laughed harder as I pulled back.

  “Don’t like an audience, huh?”

  “Human’s fine.” Realizing the implication of what I said—and the memories it brought back—I rushed ahead. “But that dog looks entirely too real. He’s huge.”

  Carly glanced down at him and adjusted his hat. “I always wanted a Dalmatian puppy. They’re so cute. They have such big paws.”

  “I’ll buy you a dog someday.” When she flicked a surprised glance up at me, I felt like a jackass. We wouldn’t have a someday. Why couldn’t I remember that? “Or you can always get yourself one, once you’re living in your own place.”

  Her lashes came down to block her expression, but not before I saw the flash of hurt.

  Nice save, asshole.

  “Yeah. Maybe,” she said vaguely.

  As soon as the doors opened, she picked up the dog and headed down the hall.

  I unlocked my apartment door and waved her inside, flipping on the light with the other hand. She set the dog on the couch, paws on the back as if he were excitedly standing on his hind legs.

  That was Carly. She never stayed down for long. I admired that just like I admired so much else about her.

  “I’m starving.” She tossed the cotton candy bag down on the table and ignored the mostly eaten caramel apple I held out to her as she walked past me into the kitchen.

  “Still?”

  “That’s candy. It doesn’t count as real food. And dancing burns lots of calories.”

  She didn’t need to remind me. I’d probably never forget the image of her in that cage, bumping and grinding with her beautiful bare breasts on display for everyone to see. That her shows always made me harder than stone seemed a particularly cruel form of irony.

  “Do you feel like—” She opened the refrigerator and broke off, her hand going to her heart. “Oh my God. What is all this?” She bent to sort through the shelves, making noises of pleasure with every item she found. “Fresh pears, and new potatoes, and oh my God, look at these carrots. And leaf lettuce, and jicama, and oh, no way! A rutabaga! For real?” She spun toward me and grinned. “Is it Christmas?”

  I had to laugh as I walked toward her and scooped my hand through her windblown hair. “I wish it was, baby,” I said softly.

  Because the Andretti mess would all be over then—one way or the other.

  “You bought all this for me. Every shelf is jammed full of food.” She shifted back to the refrigerator and oohed and aahed over more of the contents. “Heirloom tomatoes? Fresh basil. A perfectly ripe eggplant. Even a whole pineapple. I can’t even believe this.”

  “Look here too.” I tossed out her abandoned caramel apple and opened the first cabinet over the counter.

  She darted forward and pushed me out of the way, making me laugh again. “Oh my God,” she whispered reverently, eyeing the shelves of spices and dry ingredients. Everything a good chef would need to prepare almost any kind of meal. “I think I just had an orgasm.”

  Giving into my urge to harness a little of that joy for myself, I moved behind her and slipped my hand up under her skirt and along her inner thigh. She wore thigh-high lacy stockings and tiny panties, the kind that a few flicks of my fingers nudged out of the way. Beneath, she was only slightly damp, a challenge I’d never be able to resist.

  “Not yet.” I kissed the side of her neck.

  “I want to make bread,” she said dreamily, tipping her head to the other side to
give me more access. “Kneading the dough always gets out all my frustration.”

  “Mmm.” I cupped her breast through the thin material of her bodice, finding something to knead of my own. “Do you realize you got wetter when you said the word bread?”

  Her laughter was a balm to my soul. “Food is the way to my heart. And apparently, my pussy.”

  I spun her around and picked her up, setting her on the counter. She looked so small and dainty there, surrounded by all that dark wood and those gleaming appliances. But her legs were open for me, and lust burned flame-bright in her eyes.

  “You look like an angel, then you say dirty things like that and slay me.” I lifted her chin so I could kiss along her jawline. “Say it again.”

  “Food? Heart?” Playfully, she inched open her legs a bit more. “Way?”

  “Keep going.” I lowered my head to the plunging neckline of her dress and pulled it down until I could see that she had on the bra I’d given her. Even when we’d been distant, she’d clothed herself in what I’d selected for her. “I love every part of you,” I murmured, scarcely aware of my own voice over the freight-train that was my heartbeat in my ears. “From here,” I trailed my fingers from her breasts, “to here,” to the center of her chest and on down to the now wetter heart of her between her legs, “to here.”

  “You’re just trying to get me to talk dirty.”

  It was so easy to smile as I fisted my hand in her curls and dragged her mouth to mine. “Mmm-hmm. Is it working?” I asked between kisses.

  “I think so.” She kicked off her heels and hooked her leg around the backs of mine. “Get on your knees and use your mouth on me.” Her lips twitched. “Oops. On my pussy.”

  “I think your dirty talk technique needs some work. And lots and lots of practice.”

  “You know what? Never mind. Save that for later. I’m too horny right now to wait through the appetizer.” She leaned forward and went to work on my pants. She pulled my belt free of its loops and let it slap to the tile floor. Then she lowered the zipper and slid her hand into my boxers, closing her hand around my cock with a sound that bordered on triumph. “This is what I want in my pussy.” She lifted her head and met my gaze with a glint in her sunset blue eyes. “As hard as you can give it to me. Right now.”