by B. B. Hamel
“Go right ahead. It’s your house.”
I walked past him and went to the stairs. “Don’t drink all my good stuff.”
“You only have good stuff.” He grinned at me as I headed up to Cara’s room.
I knocked twice then opened the door. She sat on the bed wrapped in blankets and surrounded by pillows. The TV was on, that sitcom Modern Family showing some wacky situation where everyone comes out smiling and happy in the end, but oh, boy, are there some miscommunications along the way. Cara blinked at me then frowned as I turned off the TV.
“We need to talk.” I shut the door behind me.
“I was wondering when you’d show.” She sat up straight. Her clothes were rumpled and she needed a shower, but she still managed to glow with that intoxicating inner beauty that matched her perfect outer appearance. I stepped closer to the bed.
“I talked to a friend. He says your father stole a dossier.” She grimaced and I clenched my jaw. “You know about it, don’t you?”
“I don’t know a thing about a dossier.” She stared at me defiantly.
I walked closer, taking slow, deep breaths. I saw the way she reacted when I mentioned it—there was no doubt in my mind that she knew. But for some reason, she wanted to keep it from me.
Interesting. Maddening, but interesting.
“I think you know something you’re not telling me. Why were you at that bar, Cara? Just to say goodbye to your father? Where was he going?”
“I don’t know,” she said, looking away. She couldn’t meet my gaze. “Leaving town maybe. Or he was convinced he was going to die.”
“Which one is it?”
“I don’t know.” She glared up at me defiantly. I stopped beside the bed.
“I think you’re lying.” I reached out and grabbed the blankets. I ripped them off her and knocked away the pillows. She stared at me with a mix of surprise and anger, and I had a feeling she was about to lash out.
Instead, she closed herself down further, hugging her knees to her chest.
“Why would I lie?” she asked. “Who am I protecting now? My dad’s dead. I have nothing.”
“You have your own life still, and if you want to keep it, you need to start helping me.”
“I don’t know why I would.” She took a deep breath then slowly let it out. “I appreciate you trying to keep me alive but I’m not sure what you want.”
“Just the truth.” I touched her chin and tilted her face up toward me. Her jaw clenched and I thought she might bite me like a cornered animal. Instead, she sat perfectly still. “This isn’t a game, Cara. If your father took something serious from the Lionettis, they want it back, and they’re going to burn down the city to get it. That means me and my crew are in danger, and I can’t have that.”
“Then I’ll leave.” She went to get away.
But I grabbed her hair then pinned her down against the bed.
She stared up at me in surprise and pain. I held her there, my hand on her chest, palm against her breast, my other hand gripping her hair tightly. I pressed her against the headboard and she struggled slightly, but I was easily twice her size, and kept her immobile without much of a struggle. Her skin was soft under my fingers, and I felt my cock stiffening as my fingers grazed against one hard nipple. I could picture her naked there on the bed, smooth porcelain skin glittering in the low light, pussy soaking and begging for me to slid deep inside, but I had a job to do and I needed to keep my mind right.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said softly, moving my lips down inches from her own. I wanted to bite them, taste them, tease her until she moaned against my tongue. “Your father’s dead, but you’re not. Play along with me if you want to keep going that way.”
“Get your hand off my chest,” she hissed.
I gently teased that stiff nipple. “Feels like you like it.”
“Get. Your hand. Off my chest.”
I pulled my hand away, but slid it down her belly, down toward the mound between her legs. She squeezed her knees together then tried to shove me back, but I released her hair and grabbed her wrists, pinned her down. I climbed onto the bed and forced her legs open with my knee, holding my thigh against her warm pussy as I kept her wrists above her head, pinning her tight.
“Struggle,” I whispered. “I don’t mind. I think you’d like it.”
“What are you doing?” Fear in her voice. Fear and anger.
“I need you to understand the gravity of our situation. You can sit in here and sulk and feel bad that Daddy’s dead, but you’re not dead, and I’m not dead, and I want to keep it that way. So if you know a single fucking thing about this dossier, I need you to tell me right now.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips against her throat. “Tell me what you know, Cara.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said and I heard the strain in her voice—the strain and the desire.
I set my skin on fire. Those breasts, those plump lips, that warm spot between her legs—all she needed to do was move her hips and she could slide herself along my thigh and get herself off if she wanted. I’d let her, hell, I’d help her.
“Think hard.” I kissed her gently. She jerked away and I smiled. “I’m not a patient man and I need you to be honest with me.”
“Fuck you.”
Her skin was like honey, her body like a bonfire under me. I wanted her so badly I could almost feel her tight, slick pussy stretching out to take my long, thick cock, could almost hear her moaning in my ear as I fucked her, feel the sweat on her body, see the passion in her eyes. I wanted it, but fucking hell, I wasn’t going to force her into it.
So I pulled away. It took all my willpower, but I managed to climb off the bed and turn my back on her, breathing hard to calm myself down. When I looked back, she was curled up again, but she still stared at me with her lips parted and her tongue pressed against her little white teeth.
“Think hard,” I said. “I’ll be back to check on you soon.”
I left her there with some difficulty.
German was back on the couch with my vodka. “How’d that go, boss?” he asked.
I grunted and snatched the bottle. I took three long, deep pulls, before handing it back.
“That bad, huh?” he asked, grinning.
“Look into this rumor about a dossier.” I walked toward the kitchen. “She knows something, but she’s not talking.”
“We could always get a little persuasive.”
“We’re not hurting her,” I said through clenched teeth. “Do you understand me? You come near her, you touch her, and you will answer for it.”
“Whatever you say.” German only shrugged. “I’ll ask around, see what the boys know.”
The boys. The rest of my crew. I managed an eight-man operation, including German. Maybe one of the others would know something.
“Get on it then,” I said, nodding at the door. “I don’t pay you to sit around drinking my vodka all day.”
He laughed as he turned off the TV and stood up. “That girl’s really got you fucked up, doesn’t she?”
“Get moving.” I stormed into the kitchen and stood over the sink. I drank the water straight from the tap then splashed it into my face.
German was right though, Cara did have me all messed up. My hands on her wrists, my knee between her legs, her warmth, that sultry look she gave me, partially need, partially hate. It was incredible and left me buzzing with a desire like I’d never felt before.
And she still knew something, which was the worst part.
Eventually, I’d break her, but for now, I’d give her time to stew on what just happened.
4
Cara
I stared out the car window as Luke drove down through South Philly. He didn’t speak and I didn’t want to break the silence, even though it felt like an oppressive weight on my chest.
I kept thinking about the day before when he came into the room and pinned me back against the bed.
The lust in his eyes was like lava
pouring down into my mouth.
He was right, that bastard. It made my nipples hard and the tingling buzz between my legs meant I was dripping wet as soon as he touched my hair and pulled it. I didn’t know what that said about me, what was broken inside of me that made me like that rough sort of treatment, but it sent a chill along my skin.
That night, I dreamed about him sneaking into my bed and taking me, rough and without mercy, holding me down while he fucked me savagely. It should’ve been a nightmare.
But it wasn’t not even close.
“I know you don’t want to tell me the truth,” Luke said finally. He hadn’t told me where we were going, only said to get up and get dressed, and threw some clothes into my room. I showered and pulled on a pair of jeans that barely fit and a sweatshirt that was way too big for me. “But maybe you’ll change your mind if you meet the guys you’re putting in danger.”
I glanced at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“I run a crew. You met German already, but there are seven other guys. You’ll meet a few of them today.”
I sucked in a breath and let it out. “Great, more gangsters.”
He grunted. “You sleep okay last night, princess?”
I glared at him and for one second, I felt a stab of fear. Maybe he knew about my dream somehow, maybe he heard me moaning in my sleep—but no, he would’ve been more explicit about that. I doubted he could control himself if he knew that I wanted him as much as he seemed to want me.
“I slept fine,” I said, purposefully staring out the window. I didn’t want him to notice my skin flushing or my breath coming in fast.
He only laughed softly and parked out front of a rundown strip club on the very far edge of South Philly, right before the neighborhoods transitioned into the stadium area.
“Welcome to Butch’s,” he said, climbing out of the car.
The building was a square concrete structure with almost no identifying features except for the sign out front that said Gentleman’s Club in big, pink, curling script. I followed Luke to the front door but hesitated before going inside.
He looked back at me. “You too special to go into a strip club?”
“No, but this place is shady as hell.”
He leaned closer. “I’m a gangster, darling. Now come on, you’re as safe as you’ll ever be with me.”
I believed him. That scared me almost as much as anything else.
The club inside wasn’t so bad. The floor was sticky, but the bar looked clean and there weren’t any obvious stains anywhere, so well done to the cleaning staff. The stage was empty, the house lights were up, and an older woman stood behind the bar wiping down glasses. The tables were scattered throughout the place, and several guys sat around them, four in all, mostly staring at their phones with glasses of what looked like water, but was probably vodka, knowing these Russian mobsters.
“Boys,” Luke said, clapping his hands once like a gunshot.
All the guys looked over. One was heavyset, bald, in cargo shorts and a wife beater with a hairy chest and tattoos all over his arms. He stood up suddenly and threw his hands in the air. “The fuckin’ boss graces us with his presence. We should be thanking the heavens.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “I don’t need your shit today, Marvin.”
“Oh, right, sorry boss.” Marvin grinned at the others and sat back down.
Luke gestured at me. “This is Cara O’Shay, daughter of Justin.”
A thin, handsome man toward the back grunted in surprise. “The girl everyone’s looking for?”
I felt a chill along my spine and looked down at my hands.
“Don’t worry about that.” Luke pointed at the guy. “This is Yuri, that’s Marvin, and the other two are Vlad and Anton.”
“Pleasure,” Vlad said, a muscular guy with dark hair and a tight t-shirt.
Anton only nodded, a smile on his lips and a glass held up in the air.
“What’s she doing here anyway, boss?” Marvin asked. “We turning her in for the money?”
“Use your head,” Vlad said. “Why the fuck would the boss bring her here if he wanted to turn her over to the Lionettis?”
“Don’t know, maybe he wanted to give her a try on stage first.” Marvin cackled and Luke stalked toward him, jaw set tightly.
“Sit the fuck down,” he said and Marvin sank into a chair. Luke loomed over him for a second, then looked at his other guys. “Cara’s under my protection, which means you all better shut the fuck up and fall into line. She’s not going back to the Lionettis, understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Anton said, grinning huge. “I like this girl already. She managed to whip the boss.”
“Shut up, Anton,” Yuri said, shaking his head. “We don’t need your shit right now, okay?”
“I’m only saying, not many people can tame Luke.” Anton saluted me with his drink again then finished it in two massive gulps. “To your health and well-being. May the Lionettis never catch you and may your enemies—”
“Enough,” Luke said, cutting him off. Anton didn’t seem put out at all though. “We need to start talking about how we’re going to defuse this situation.”
“You could always hand her over,” Marvin grumbled.
Luke suddenly slammed his boot hard against the big man’s chest and smashed him backwards. Marvin’s chair legs slid out from under him and he toppled to the floor with Luke’s foot still pinning him against the tile. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, then tried to struggle away, but Luke kept standing on him.
“If another one of you suggests we give her to the Lionettis, I won’t be so nice about it next time,” he said, staring around like he wanted someone to step out of line.
My breath came fast and shallow, and I backed up until I bumped against the bar. A drink appeared at my elbow—something brown in a glass. I looked back and the old woman bartender winked at me and gave me a smile full of yellow, crooked teeth.
I took the drink and tossed half of it back. The stuff burned on the way down.
“We get you, boss,” Yuri said. “Girl’s safe with us, even if Marvin’s an asshole.”
“He’s right, we will keep the girl protected, if that’s what you want,” Vlad said, muscles rippling. The guy was like a pit bull, shredded beyond imagining.
“What about you?” Luke asked, narrowing his eyes at Anton.
“You know me, boss. I go along to get along.” He shrugged and held up his hands. “Besides, I don’t love getting kicked around like Marvin does.”
“Come on, boss,” Marvin groaned. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I open my fat mouth and dumb shit comes out, you know me, I got a good heart but a dumb brain. I’m sorry, boss.”
Luke stepped off Marvin, who slowly climbed to his feet, rubbing his head.
“No more bullshit,” Luke said. “I want you all figuring out how we’re going to help her without turning her over to the Lionettis and without them getting whatever they’re looking for.”
Yuri cleared his throat. “So basically, we’re trying to screw the Lionettis?”
“Without putting it that way, yes, we are.” Luke glanced back at me and I stared at the drink in my hands. “Something’s going on and I want to know exactly what. You guys all understand?”
“Got it, boss.” Anton stood up and stretched. “I got some guys I can go talk to. It’s probably a good time, before they get too fucked up and can’t think straight.”
“I’ll come with.” Vlad followed Anton to the door. “Crack skulls, if needed.”
Anton draped an arm across Vlad’s shoulders. “That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, you muscle-headed monster?”
Vlad grunted. “All I like doing anyway.”
Anton laughed and the pair disappeared outside. Marvin sat in another chair and leaned over his glass of vodka, staring at it sullenly.
“I know a guy in the Lionetti family,” Yuri said. “I’ll talk to him, see what he says.”
“Don’t let hi
m know that I have Cara with me. I think they know already, but deny it for now.”
Yuri nodded, though he looked worried, and stood up. He grabbed Marvin by the scruff of his neck and dragged him along. “God damn it,” Marvin said. “I just want to get drunk.”
“We’re working instead, you lazy asshole.” Yuri dragged him to the door and they disappeared outside.
Luke joined me at the bar, glaring down at the bottle for a long moment before reaching over and grabbing some cheap vodka. He slugged it back and the bartender rolled her eyes before she disappeared into the back. I sat down on a stool and leaned forward on my elbows.
“They seem nice,” I offered.
He laughed long and loud like I’d said the funniest thing in the world.
I watched him, not sure what to make of any of this. It was obvious his guys didn’t want to be involved in my problems, but Luke didn’t seem to care about that. They listened to him, or at least they were too afraid to go against him, but I didn’t know how far that would get us. If the Lionettis were as strong and dangerous as Luke seemed to think, then I needed all the help I could get—but I wasn’t so sure his men wouldn’t turn me in the first chance they got.
“Honestly, they’re not so bad,” he said. “I know they come off a little rough, but they’re good people. Marvin means well, even though he’s an idiot.”
“How long have you known them?”
“I took over this crew five years back, but I knew them all before that. We’ve been running in the same circles for a while.”
“The Morozov family.”
He shrugged and offered me the vodka. I held up my hand and shook my head, preferring whatever the bartender had poured for me.
“It’s a good crew. Money’s solid, protection’s there, but the Morozov are still small.” He put the vodka bottle back. “I want to change all that.”
“I’m not sure getting tangled up with me is going to help you grow your mafia.”
He eyed me curiously for a moment. “You never know. Opportunities are everywhere.”