by Nola Marie
I press my lips to the top of her head to keep my mouth from running. To keep my anger from pouring from my lips that she didn’t tell me before. I need to let her finish even though I can already tell I’m going to be so much angrier when she’s finished.
“While Cara and Stephano were dancing the other two approached me about my fighting career. I thought it was just small talk at first until they propositioned me to fight for them. Except it wasn’t a proposition it was a demand. I told them to go fuck themselves then they made a point to let me know that if I didn’t go along with what they said, they’d hurt Cara.”
My grip on her tightens. I’m probably leaving more bruises than the fucker who touched her tonight. I still keep quiet, needing her to tell me the rest.
“That night you saw me? That was the night of the fight. They made me attend that event to – you know I still don’t understand the damn point of me attending that night. I won the fight but fuck if I didn’t get my ass kicked. I wasn’t ready. You can’t really be ready for a fight without enough time to train or study your opponent. I didn’t even know who my opponent was. You know Cara told me the next night, Stephano’s brother was killed. Said it was awful. Apparently, his dad and another business associate were killed too.”
My entire body tenses. The blood in my veins turns to ice. “Tori, what is Stephano’s name?”
She looks at me confused for a second. Then I see more fear run through her. “Why do I feel like if I tell you, everything is just going to get so much worse?”
“Baby, if you tell me what I think you’re about to, then it couldn’t possibly get any worse.”
“Stephano DeLuca. His brother’s name was -.”
“Romano,” I finish for her. “Fuck.”
She sits up and looks me dead in the eye. She already knows what I’m going to say. The way she pales about ten shades is the proof. “Zane? Do you – do you know them?”
“Yes,” I tell her without hesitation. “Who is the other guy you mentioned? The friend?”
“His name is James. James Rossi.”
What the actual fuck?
“Did you just say Rossi?” I ask her because I have to make sure I heard her correctly before I lose my shit.
She gives me a slight nod. “He followed me here, Zane. He was in my hotel room.”
“And he’s the one who did this to you?” I ask but I already know the fucking answer.
“I think he knows you,” she says softly like it should probably be some kind of secret. “He said it was fun to screw you over.”
“Oh, he definitely knows of me. If he really is a Rossi, he is some kind of cousin to Rory, Jax and Bastian.”
Except I have never heard of this person. I didn’t know there were any other Rossi’s left apart from Rory, Jax, and Bastian. But whoever this person is, he knows exactly who I am and that means he knows who I am. And he knows who Tori is to me.
“Go take a shower and get warm,” I tell her with a kiss to her forehead. “I need to make a couple of phone calls.”
“Now?” she exclaims as confusion fills her eyes.
“I won’t take long,” I promise.
She nods reluctantly but gets up to do as I say.
I am grabbing my phone as soon as I hear the bedroom door shut behind her. I dial Jax and pace the floor as the phone rings. “I love you, man, but this better be good,” he answers slightly out of breath.
“Fuck, Jay. You could’ve just let it go to voicemail instead of answering me like that. I do not want to hear the sounds of you fucking my sister. My pregnant sister.”
“How do you think she got pregnant," he chortles. "Besides we shared an apartment for years. Pretty sure you’ve already heard it.”
He’s not wrong, but that doesn’t make it any less disturbing. I need this subject changed. I need to keep on task about why I'm calling him. “Jay, we have a problem. Rather Tori has a problem that could be directly related to us.”
“And it’s serious enough it couldn’t wait until morning?”
“Tori is being – blackmailed, I guess. By the DeLucas and a guy who says his name is James Rossi.”
I hear a bit of mumbling in the background and some rustling. I can only guess that he is getting away from Zoey before he responds. “What the fuck?” he hisses after a minute. “What is she being blackmailed to do?”
“Fight in some underground matches or something. If she doesn’t, they threaten to hurt Cara.”
“Didn’t we get rid of DeLuca and his father?”
“Apparently there’s another plus this Rossi guy.”
“We need to tell Rory and Bastian.”
“They won’t get involved with another syndicate if it doesn’t directly affect them,” I remind him.
“They’ll get involved in this, and you know it. If for no other reason, than for you.”
“Rossi, I don’t know or want to know what he was planning, but he roughed up Tori a little tonight.”
“He’s here?”
“He was waiting in her hotel room for her.”
“Fuck!”
“That’s becoming the goddamned word of the day.”
“Where is Tori now?”
“Where do you think, asshole?”
“Good. We’ll talk to Rory and Bastian in the morning. Go take care of Tori.” I grunt my agreement and end the call.
I watch as Tori rubs circles over my torso with her fingers. She’s curled into my side like she is trying to bury herself in me. She’s still afraid and I fucking hate it.
“I wish you had told me when it happened,” I whisper into her hair.
“I didn’t know what to do. I just knew these guys seemed dangerous and very likely to follow through on their threats. And I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Don’t keep things from me again,” I say without acknowledging anything she just said.
“You keep things from me,” she counters, but there is absolutely no conviction to her tone.
“Do I keep them from you? Or have you just never asked? Because you really don’t want to know?”
She turns and props herself on my chest. In her eyes is guilt and doubt but it doesn’t detract from the things I first noticed about her. That her eyes are full fire and spark and life. Even with everything going on in her world – the fear that was there earlier – that light never leaves.
“I don’t ask because I don’t care,” she says, and I can see the truth in her eyes. “I don’t ask because when you tell me horrible things, I still won’t care, and that makes me a horrible person doesn’t it?”
I brush a piece of the long blond hair from away from her face. “Does it make me a horrible person?”
“Zane, I can’t think of one instance where you could possibly be a horrible person,” she says as she presses a kiss to my chest.
“The DeLucas are part of the Chicago syndicate, the Chicago Mafia. Their father was the boss,” I tell her as I run my hand absently up and down her back. “Rory and Bastian are the bosses of the River City Mafia.”
“I had a feeling it was something like that,” she whispers softly.
I sit up, pulling her with me. I take her face in my hands making sure she is looking at me. She says she won’t care, but it’s different when you know. “I am too, Tori.”
Her eyes soften as she turns her head into my palm, placing a kiss there. “I guessed that too,” she tells me with a smile. “But I didn’t ask.”
I smile, then with quick movement, flip her to her back. She squeals loudly then winces. “Fuck,” I panic a little as I remember the broken ribs, “I’m sorry Darlin’.”
She draws in a shallow breath with a smile. “Totally worth it.”
“Was it now?” I grin as I move to her lips.
“Mmm-hmm.”
I kiss her long and slow, swallowing her little moans and gasps. My hands trace the curves of her body leaving a trail of gooseflesh everywhere I touch. Electricity sparks with every breath. I f
eel her heart pound as I move farther down her body, worshipping every inch with my mouth.
She mewls and moans with each caress of my hand. Her body reacts with every kiss I place until I am between her thighs. I look up at her for a moment to find her leaning up on her elbows watching me.
I slide my tongue through her sweet folds never taking my eyes off her. Her head falls back with a soft groan. I lap her sweetness and suck that little bud until she is on the precipice of eruption.
She surprises me by pulling me away, bringing my mouth to her mouth. “Make love to me, Zane,” she whispers softly.
I cup her face, kissing her again. “I’m trying, Baby, but you kind of stopped me there.” A giggle escapes her lips. "Tell me again."
Another giggle as she reaches between us to grip my shaft rubbing it through her folds. "I love you, Zee." My heart feels like it could explode with how happy hearing her say those words makes me. How she's finally given herself over to me completely.
I begin to press into her slowly. With each inch, her body electrifies and mine blazes. With each push and pull I swear I can see the future. Our fingers lace together by her head, our eyes are locked on each other as we feel the shift. The change in this. In us.
Our climaxes come slow and burn long as we fall into each other like it’s the first time. And maybe it is. It is the first time since she told me she loved me. It is the first time since we got rid of the secrets between us.
Even with the storm raging outside these walls, everything seems clear. The fog and haze have lifted. It’s just her and me. Us.
Tori
Layla walks to me with a glass of wine before moving to Rory. Zane is gathered in a corner with the guys whispering. I keep finding myself needing to fight the urge to bristle that it seems like they are leaving me out.
This is about me. About my sister.
My eyes keep darting to them. Wanting to know what Zane is telling them – which I can only assume is everything - wanting to know what they’re saying.
“Have you told Dane and Maddox?” Zoey asks me as she sits – falls into the chair across from me.
“No, and I don’t want them to know,” I say definitively. “He will drop everything to try to save the day. Dane can’t do a damn thing about this, but he would sure as hell try. He and the other guys have worked too hard to get this tour and record contract.”
“They’re going to kill you, Tori,” she levels me with a gaze I don’t think I’ve ever seen from her.
I’ve noticed a change in Zoey. I feel like I’m seeing the Zoey she was before New York. The one I always wanted to get to know. She’s not timid or jumpy or stand-offish. She is full of fire and passion. She, like always, draws everyone in like a moth to the flame.
“They’ll get over it or they won’t,” I tell her with a shrug. “I’ve spent most of my life handling my problems on my own. Pete would give me advice but let me fix my mistakes. I don’t need anyone running to my rescue.”
My chin is tipped up. I know my eyes are set in a hard, defiant gaze. My shoulders are straight and my spine rigid.
“I know what it’s like to want to take care of problems on your own,” Layla tells me with a smirk. “I hate asking for help. When I first came back to town, I was in so much trouble. I did everything I could to keep Rory from finding out.”
“Like that was ever going to work,” Zoey scoffs.
I look at them both in confusion. Zoey gives me a mischievous grin. “You know Zane could have found out what was going on with you without ever asking right?”
Now it’s my turn to scoff. When I don’t want to share – when I want secrets kept no one finds out. It just so happens that I don’t feel the need to keep secrets very often. “Zane can’t know anything about me I don’t want him to.”
Layla and Zoey both burst into laughter. “Oh honey, Rory and Bastian could’ve had Christian dig up everything about you in a matter of minutes.”
I give them a disbelieving look. “I highly doubt that,” I mutter.
“Zane didn’t have to wait for you to come to him. That’s just who he is though. He will fight tooth and nail for the people he loves but he’s not going to force their hand. Either you come to him or you don’t,” Zoey tells me.
“Seriously, Tori, how long do you think it would have taken Rory or Bastian to find out who your sister was dating? To put the clues together?”
I stare at both of them in disbelief but even as the doubts roll through my mind, I realize that what they’re trying to tell me. And a part of me wishes Zane had crossed that line. Had gone behind my back to figure out what was going on. Then maybe this mess would already be over.
But I still have doubts about their ability to find anything about me I don't want them to know.
My phone ringing brings me out of my thoughts. I swear to God that Dane is like Beetlejuice. Every time his name is said three time, he calls me.
I answer it and walk out to the balcony of Rory and Layla’s penthouse. “What’s up big brother?”
Silence fills the space for a moment, and I begin to wonder if he’s there. “Dane?”
“What’s going on with Cara?” he grunts. “And don’t fucking tell me everything is fine. She drunk dialed me last night in tears, but I couldn’t understand what the hell she was saying. Today I call her back and she says it was the alcohol talking. What the fuck is going on with her?” I can practically see him sitting there pulling at his hair. I can feel the tension and frustration and anger vibrating off of him through the phone.
“Dane she is an adult,” I say praying he doesn’t hear the worry in my own voice.
“Then she needs to fucking act like one. I’m coming home,” he tells me.
“No, Dane. You’re not coming home. You’re going to stay on tour.”
“Tori, my fucking head is not in this when I’m worried about you or Cara.”
“Then stop fucking worrying. I have everything under control.” All I can do is pray he doesn’t hear the lie.
More silence fills the line until I hear him release a breath. “In a month, we get a break. I’ll be home then to take care of this shit.”
I silently release my own breath. He may not have sacrificed his life for me, but he has for Cara. I am not letting this shit ruin it all. I will handle this mess, and, somehow, get Cara home safely.
I move to lean against the balcony railing, looking at a similar but somewhat different view from Zane’s of the river.
“In case you’re wondering, my place has the best view,” Bastian says coming to stand beside me. “I guess Zane’s does too. We get to see these tall buildings we’re in right now light up the evening sky and the connecting bridge.”
“Why do Rory and Jax live across the river from you guys?”
I look to him to see he’s really considering my words. He looks across the city, pointing nearly directly across at what looks like an old factory of sorts. “That’s my place. That’s Zane’s,” he points a little to the side which looks like only feet from here but is probably a few miles. “I don’t think it was intentional for us, but I think somewhere subconsciously we were trying to make sure each side of the river was watched after.”
“Mafia superheroes,” I say with a laugh.
“Che cazzo? No, no, no!” he exclaims with his unusual accent growing thicker. “Don’t mix us up with Batman or the Green Arrow. We are not the good guys. Everything you’ve ever assumed about the mafia, then it’s probably what we’ve done. But there are certain things we can’t stomach. And we protect our own.”
“Zane says that you’re getting out of the illegal activity without even realizing you’re doing it.”
“Huh,” he says with a disbelieving chuckle. “He may be right, but it is still in our blood. You know about Romano? Well, we did that, and you better believe I’d do it again.”
“See, vigilante justice,” I grin.
He shakes his head. A few lines form around his eyes as his smile grows wider
. “You’re something else Tori. “Verity took off like lightning was after her when I told her, and she was raised in this. She just didn’t know it at the time.”
“Well, I was raised in foster care for a long time, remember? I’ve seen the real bad guys.”
“Something happen to you?” His voice takes on a menacing tone.
I shake my head. It’s the one thing I am so very grateful for. “No, but I knew plenty of kids that it did happen to. I always took off when I thought they were coming for me too.”
“Why’d you end up there?”
“My mom was an addict. She just dumped me one day. Never knew my dad.”
“You see,” he says looking me dead in the eye. “That’s what I’m talking about. It’s guys like me that get the drugs to people like your mom. There may be a few others in between but it all comes from us.”
“You may supply the supplier but she’s the one who chose to put the needle in her arm, Bastian. She chose drugs over me.”
He gives a slight nod as his eyes move back over the river. “Give anymore thought to my offer?”
“That was just yesterday,” I snort.
“Seems to me a lot of things have worked themselves out since then too.”
“My brother is in New York.”
“So, he’s giving up the music thing?”
“God, I hope not. They’ve worked too freaking hard for this. But Cara will be there too.”
“She’s leaving Chicago?”
“I hope after this, she never sets foot back there again. I want her to transfer to NYU or at the very least Loyola in Maryland if she’s hung up on it being Loyola.”
“Isn’t that the strangest thing though? That there’s a university right here called Loyola. Went there myself.”
“Okay, okay, but I could never leave Pete. He doesn’t have anyone else.”
“And from what I heard Pete doesn’t spend a lot of time in New York anymore. Heard he’s a bit of a southern boy himself.”
A long sigh escapes me. He is literally ticking off one by one the reasons I have for leaving New York. He's right. There's not a lot holding me there anymore. “Yeah, I think Pete would’ve left a long time ago if not for me.”