by Hamel, B. B.
“Sorry about the food situation,” he said.
“Dad never was good at keeping the house stocked.”
“He’s a busy man.” Colin leaned up against the counter across from me and crossed his arms.
“How’s he doing?” I asked tentatively.
He laughed. “Really good, actually. He got a pretty big promotion recently.”
I held up my hands. “Do I want to hear about this?”
“Still hate the family business?”
“More like I’d rather not have to lie to a jury one day.”
He laughed with his whole body and I smiled. I remembered that laugh. I had tried to forget it, didn’t want to forget it, but everything came flooding back the second I had seen him.
“Yeah, well, that’s a fair point. Anyway, he’s doing good.”
“I’m glad to hear it. What about you?”
He shrugged and grinned. “You know me. Same as I’ve always been.”
“Still working for him?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything. I let out a breath and looked around.
“It’s weird how empty it is in here,” I said.
“Yeah. That probably won’t last, though, so enjoy it.”
“When’s Dad getting home?”
He shrugged again. “Who knows? Some people are stopping by later to see you, so probably around then.”
I nodded. That was good; it would give me time to get used to being in the house again before I had to face him. I’d been dreading seeing him again, but I knew there was nothing that I could do about it if I wanted to stay in his house. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for a party, but maybe it was better this way. It would provide a nice social setting to cushion the blow of being reunited.
“It’s really good to see you home, Bren,” Colin said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yeah, thanks.”
He grinned again then pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed a green sports drink from the door. He twisted it open and took a deep drink while I watched him. I noticed that his hair was still wet from the shower.
“So, you mentioned telling me everything?” I prompted.
He stopped drinking and nodded, expression serious. “Yeah, but you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
I sighed. My reason for coming home wasn’t exactly happy, and I expected a lecture from dad, not from one of his lackeys. Even if Colin was like a brother to me in my father’s eyes, that didn’t give him the right to talk to me about who I should date and who I shouldn’t.
“Fine, let’s get it overwith, then.”
He resumed his position of leaning against the counter, bottle resting next to him.
“Well, I guess I should tell you that I’ll be staying in the house with you for a while.”
I stared at him. “Seriously? Don’t you have, like, your own apartment?”
“Yeah, I do. But this comes from the big man himself.”
“So Daddy ordered you to watch over me?”
He frowned. “It’s not like that.”
I clenched my jaw. It was exactly like that, and we both knew it.
“What’s it like, then?”
“Bren, can you blame him? I mean, you call out of the blue, start talking about some cheating ex-boyfriend that smacked you around, and beg him to let you come home. Of course he’s freaked out.”
There it was, the reason I had come home. Vince Fabrizio, my asshole ex-boyfriend. I kept remembering the dumb slut’s head sliding up and down his dick, and the happy expression on his face as she blew him. And how angry he was later, when I said that I was leaving, and the pain of his slap stinging through more than just my skin.
“I get it, he doesn’t trust me. Still thinks I’m the spoiled brat that can’t take care of herself.”
He pushed off the counter and leaned over the island, looking at me seriously.
“It’s not like that. I’m here for protection, not as a babysitter.”
I snorted. “I don’t see the difference.”
“We looked into this guy Vince Fabrizio. We know who he is.”
My heart almost stopped at that. I hadn’t told Dad the truth, or at least I had neglected to tell him one important aspect. Vince was a Made Man in the Italian Mafia, and was part of one of the most powerful families in all of New York. That was what probably drew me to him in the first place: money, power, and excitement. He was so fucking sweet to me when we were dating, but it all turned to shit after. So typical—I had worked to get away from men like Vince, but in the end I couldn’t stay out of his bed. Things had moved so fast between us, and I had made so many mistakes.
I looked away. “It’s fine. He’s not going to follow me.”
“This guy is dangerous. We’re not taking any chances with you.”
I nodded once, still annoyed. But he was right about one thing: Vince was dangerous, incredibly dangerous. And I wasn’t sure at all if he would follow me or not. That was the reason I had left so quickly, abandoning most of my possessions. My dad’s place was the only house in the entire world that I thought I would be safe and where Vince wouldn’t come after me.
But who knew with Vince. He was capable of anything. Especially when he felt like something he owned was being taken away from him, and he definitely thought he owned me, though for a good reason. Another one of the many mistakes of Brenna O’Brian. I hated having regrets, but they seemed to pile up no matter what I did.
After a second, Colin moved away, expression turning back into his grin.
“So, a Mafia guy, huh?”
I gave him a look. “Don’t say a word.”
He looked fake-innocent. “What? Just making conversation.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“If I were doing anything, I would innocently point out how strange it is that you ripped your father a new one and didn’t speak to him for years, and then ended up with a man just like him.”
I sighed, annoyed. “Yeah, Colin, that thought occurred to me.”
His grin got wider. “Sorry. Just giving you shit.”
“Is this what I have to look forward to?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Not like you have any room to talk.”
“You’re not wrong about that.”
“So, how does this work, anyway? You’re—what? My private bodyguard?”
He laughed and leaned back on the counter again.
“No, not at all. I’m just keeping an eye on you, make sure that asshole doesn’t show up here. Unless you want me to guard your body. I’d be more than happy to.”
I made a face. “You’re not funny.”
He grinned. “I’m not joking. I’d love to get close to your body.”
I shook my head and wished he were within arm’s reach. I would have loved to smack that grin off his face, if only to get to feel his firm jaw.
“Anyway, I’m going out for a grocery run. Write down what you want and I’ll get it.” He nodded at a pen attached to a notepad stuck to the refrigerator door.
“What, am I not allowed to leave?”
He shook his head. “You’re not a prisoner. But maybe it’s a good idea to lay low for a few days.”
I hated that he was the one watching over me. I hated that my dad thought I needed a guardian, and I hated that he was right. Because the truth was, I did need a guardian. That was the whole reason I had ran home to my daddy, as much as I didn’t want it to be true. I needed protection and I needed it badly if I was going to get away from Vince. Still, Dad could have chosen someone other than Colin. Really, anybody but Colin. I didn’t need another distraction in my life, and yet there he was, leaning against the counter, looking incredible, and smiling like he owned the place.
“Fine, I can do that.”
“Great. We’ll have a good old time together.”
“Yeah, I’m sure we will.”
“Cheer up. This’ll all blow over soon enough, and you and your dad will mend fences. This’
ll be good for you.”
I nodded. I had a knot in my stomach the size of a Redwood tree. I really hoped he was right. I looked at his grinning face and the memory of that night flooded through me again. I could practically feel his hot breath close against my lips all over again, and I found myself blushing again.
Colin as my personal bodyguard. I couldn’t imagine anything more dangerous than that.
Chapter Two: Colin
––––––––
A few hours earlier
Boss O’Brian sat sipping whiskey from a cut crystal glass behind his huge, red mahogany desk. Although he had become one of the most powerful men in the city in the last few months, not much had changed for him. He had always rubbed elbows with power, and he knew how to flaunt it. Expensive furniture and ornate gilding filled the room, plus pictures of him shaking hands with mayors, governors, police chiefs, and senators. It was mostly for show, he had explained to me once. If you looked like you have strength and wealth then people believed that you did.
And it was more important for people to believe than for it to be true. Fortunately for O’Brian, he had the best of both worlds.
“When was the last time you saw her?” he asked me.
“Same as you, the day she left for school.”
He grunted and nodded. I looked down at my shoes and frowned, not sure what I felt or if I even cared about that. She had been gone for years, and I’d barely heard anything about her during that time. Suddenly, though, out of the blue, she called Davin and asked if he could talk to the boss, get him to agree to let her come back home. A few hours later, and she was on a train, racing back into my life.
Fuck my father and his business. I don’t care who you were. I kept hearing those words, over and over. One of the last things she'd said to me before she left.
“Well, she’ll be back soon.”
I looked up and for a second, I didn’t see the head boss of the Irish Mob. Instead, I saw an awkward father waiting for a reunion with his estranged daughter.
“Yeah, she will be. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
He glared at me. “You think sheltering my own daughter is a bad idea?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. I mean, not just killing the guy.”
“You know we can’t do that. I’m not in the position to start a war with the Italians right now.”
I nodded, frustrated. If I had my way, I’d be on the next bus to New York with an unregistered gun in my holster. But the boss said no, and his word was final. Still, I wanted nothing more than to kill that Fabrizio asshole and be done with it.
“What can I help with, then?” I asked.
“I got a job for you.”
I nodded. Ever since O’Brian named me as his second in command over Davin, the jobs were coming faster and harder.
Second in command of the Irish Mob at twenty-six was an unheard-of achievement. People whispered, talked shit in the shadows, but O’Brian knew what he was doing. The worst part of it was that his old second in command, Davin O’Malley, was beyond pissed. He had gotten promoted to the business manager, effectively making him number three, but he was still more than a little salty at getting passed over for some no-name kid with no leadership experience. Or at least that was the pathetic sort of shit he talked.
But fuck Davin and fuck everyone else who didn’t like it. They didn’t know what I had gone through to get where I was, or what I was capable of. I was out working in the field, getting my hands dirty, while they sat around in their strip clubs and their offices playing card games and smoking cigars. And getting nice and soft.
But not me. That wasn’t my style. You had to stay hard if you wanted to make it in the Mob, and I was well on my way.
“I’m worried about her, boy. She’s been away for a long time and might forget how things work around here.”
I nodded. “That’s true. But she’s still your daughter.”
O’Brian laughed. “Yeah, and that’s the problem. I need someone that I trust to protect her.”
I blinked. “What are you asking me, sir?”
“I want you to move into my house and watch over her.”
“What, like her babysitter?”
“No, like her bodyguard. Consider it protection duty. You’ll still do all your usual shit, but you’ll be staying in the house with her.”
The feeling of her skin against my hands came rushing back to me. I had to admit, the idea of staying in that house again with Brenna threatened to give me a hard-on then and there. She was the first woman that I really wanted, and the first one I had turned down. I had spent many, many nights regretting that choice since then, and many, many lonely days imagining what it would have been like to slip my hard cock into the Princess’s wet little pussy.
I shook my head. Imagining fucking Brenna in front of her father wasn’t the best idea.
“Okay, I’ll do what I can.”
“Keep her out of trouble. She always listened to you.”
I smirked. “Yeah, as much as she listened to anyone.”
“You’ll be fine. How’d things go today?”
We fell into shoptalk, but my heart wasn’t into it. Frankly, my heart wasn’t into anything but cleaning myself off. Brenna was due in a few hours, and I smelled like sweat and grime from beating pavement all afternoon running errands between the bosses. You’d think that getting a big promotion would mean I was exempt from bitch work, but that was far from true.
Finally, O’Brian stood up.
“Well, son, you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
I stood up and laughed. “Why, because Bren’ll be home soon?”
“Exactly.”
I laughed again at his bad dad joke and shrugged. “I can handle her, sir.”
“I’m sure you can.”
We shook hands and he walked me to the door of his office. I felt nervous though I had no real reason to be.
“One more thing,” he said.
“What do you need?”
“About that little issue we discussed last week.”
I blinked at him and frowned. It wasn’t just some tiny little issue; it was actually an incredibly huge deal.
“What about it, sir?”
“Have you thought some more about it?”
“I have, but—“
“Good. I had my lawyers draw up some paperwork.”
“I’ll take a look at it.”
He grabbed my shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, you know. This is going to help you in the long run. And I’d be proud to call you my son.”
“It’s a big step,” was all I could think of to say.
He laughed loudly. “That’s an understatement, boy. Well, get out of here, the lawyers will bring the paperwork around sometime this week.”
I nodded. “Thank you, sir. I mean, for everything.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you and Brenna later.”
I nodded, turned away, and pushed open the door. My mind was practically reeling again with the full-on assault of information I had just withstood.
In an organization like the Irish Mob, family still meant something. There was a long tradition of bosses passing down their territory to their sons or, if they didn’t have sons or their sons were idiots, adopting someone from outside the family and passing it down to him. There had been some disputes over the years, but for the most part it actually worked pretty well. Nobody questioned who would take over a certain area, and the children of Mob bosses could be groomed from a young age to take power seamlessly.
I wasn’t O’Brian’s son, but he had taken me in when I needed it the most, and he had made sure I got the best training I possibly could. I had all my skills and knowledge because of him, and I owed him everything.
And now he wants to fucking adopt me, I thought as I moved through the crowded pub, heading for the door. The adoptive son of boss O’Brian would paint a huge target on my chest. And it would also make Brenna my stepsister.
Bren, my damn actual stepsister...
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. On the one hand, being the Mob’s rightful successor would change my life and give me power and opportunities I had never imagined. But then again, I had always been an orphan, and couldn’t imagine having a family. Let alone a family with her as my stepsister, the girl I hadn’t been able to get off my mind since that one day all those years ago.
There were plenty of women since then, of all shapes and sizes. But she was the only one that had stuck in my brain.
“Colin,” I heard someone call out, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I looked over. Davin was sitting at the bar, smiling his cruel smile at me.
“Davin, how is it?” I called back.
He motioned for me to come over. I clenched my jaw; he was the last guy I wanted to deal with. But I couldn’t outright disrespect him, since he was the third most powerful man in the Mob, so I slipped through the crowd and stood at his side.
“Seeing the Princess today?” he asked me.
I grunted. That was the overly familiar and somewhat mocking nickname many of O’Brian’s men had for Brenna: the Mob Princess. She’d practically grown up around them, and they all remembered her as the sweet little girl that doting Boss O’Brian loved to spoil.
That wasn’t exactly how I remembered her, though.
“She’s getting in soon,” I replied.
“Good. We have a little gathering planned for her tonight.”
“Easing the boss into it?”
“That’s the idea.”
I nodded. “I’ll let her know.”
“You do that.”
There was a tense moment where neither of us spoke. There were a lot of things I wanted to do with Davin, but talking wasn’t one of them. He had a thin, angular face, and sharp green eyes. Everyone said he was one of the smartest men in the Mob, and I didn’t doubt it. He was more fox than man, with thinning auburn hair, and a penchant for well thought-out plans. He wasn’t exactly the Rambo type, gunning down anyone who got in his way, but he was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous.
“Anything else?” I said.