Casey

by Claire Marta

  Patience.

  Popov was going to pay. She was invested in bringing him down and embedded in his life now, thanks to Ivan. Nothing was going to stop her.

  They moved in a group to the dessert bar, which boasted a chocolate fountain and fondue pots of white, milk, and dark chocolate. Plates were handed out by attentive waiters. Catering platters and large bowls held an assortment of items to dip in the tempting cascade.

  Casey hovered at the edge, content to observe and let the others go first.

  When she reached the chocolate bar, she felt someone else step into line. Glancing at the woman beside her, Casey recognized the wife of Colin Burke, one of the Irishmen.

  Colin’s wife wore a black, figure-hugging dress and dangling earrings that matched her bright red lips. Her curly dark hair had been tamed, scraped back and pinned into a fashionable French roll. Her smile was warm and welcoming, but Casey thought she detected a hint of sorrow in her beautiful brown eyes.

  “You're not into fondue?” the mobster’s wife asked. Irish-born, she’d been here long enough for her accent to be light.

  “It’s my first time,” she admitted with a small smile. “I’m Caitlyn.”

  “Raven,” the other woman responded, plucking up a marshmallow from a dish. “I get a kick out of impaling one of these before dipping it.”

  Casey watched her stab the plump white treat with the sharpened end of a wooden skewer.

  Raven’s look of relish made Casey laugh. “Wow, you really must have it in for them.”

  Raven’s eyes flashed with humor. “It’s never been the same since the marshmallow man tried to take over New York.”

  For a heartbeat, confusion rocked through Casey before she cottoned onto the movie reference. “I enjoyed the remake but nothing beats the original.”

  “My daughter likes the animated series.” Holding out her skewered treat, she doused it in melted chocolate. “She’s four-and-a-half going on thirty. Do you have any kids?”

  Casey shook her head. “No, I haven't really considered having them.”

  With her job at the ATF, her kink on the side, and no love life to speak of, Casey had given up on the thought of having a family. Her job was too risky to think of having babies. If anything happened to her, they’d be left alone in the world. After having her family torn so cruelly from her, she couldn’t do that to a child.

  As they chatted, Casey found herself relaxing. Raven was entertaining and witty. If they’d met under normal circumstances, she knew that she’d have liked her. The fact she was a mobster’s wife loomed at the back of Casey’s thoughts. Did she know what her husband was into or was she ignorant of his business dealings?

  Did she know and love him enough to turn a blind eye and carry on anyway?

  Casey sighed softly, hating that there was an innocent child involved. Life was complicated enough when you were on the right side of the law. Dance with the dark side and you were asking for trouble.

  She was still edgy from her spa session this afternoon. As much as she was tempted to stay and eat sweets, there was a three-inch bullet with her name on it and now seemed the perfect time to get her own happy ending.

  Excusing herself, Casey took her clutch and slipped out of the room, scanning the hall for signage. Seeing the universal symbol, she pushed open the ladies’ room door and checked all the stalls to make certain she was alone. Secluding herself in the farthest one, she locked the door, opened her clutch, and reached under her dress, parting her folds and finding her clit with practiced ease. One push of a button and the mini vibrator came alive in her hand, the soft buzz loud in the silence of the room.

  It took all of thirty seconds to climax, she’d been on the edge so long. Wiping the end with a square of tissue, she was tucking her travel buddy back in her bag when she heard the restroom door open.

  “Okay, I can hear you now.”

  Casey recognized Raven’s voice and stood motionless, listening to her conversation, hoping she would hear something that the ATF could use.

  “Yes. Yes. I’m twenty minutes away and I’ll have to change. I can’t deliver a baby in what I’m wearing. How far apart are your contractions? Good. Good. We have time then. It could be hours. Tomorrow, even. Your presentation was normal at my last visit. Paul can help you with your breathing. Stay strong, and I’ll be there just as quickly as I can.”

  Raven ended one call and made another. “Hello, Darcy? Yeah. It’s time. I warned you this might happen, and it has. Just another day in the life of a midwife. You don’t mind keeping Willow for me? I’m sorry, but I don’t trust Colin. I’d rather her stay with you until I’m done. If he tries to collect her, play the fever card like last time. Christ.” She blew out a harsh breath. “I know. I know. I’ll do it as soon as I can if he doesn’t cut me loose first. His dad wants an heir and he’ll never get one from me. Look, I have to run. Thanks again for keeping Willow. She loves you and so do I. Bye, doll. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  The door to the hall opened and closed. Casey was alone once more, analyzing the conversation that she’d just overheard. Colin’s father Ian was the head of the Irish mob. Ian’s oldest son had died this summer from a bullet to the head, put there by the cuckolded husband of his mistress. Overnight, Colin had become the heir to the throne. It sounded like his father was pressuring him to ensure his legacy and produce a grandson.

  A baby that Raven swore he would never get from her. But why?

  It was a mystery to be unraveled. Now that Raven was leaving, her mother-in-law might be in the mood to vent.

  Casey found the older woman easily when she returned to the banquet room. Unfortunately, Mrs. Burke had grown up in the mob and knew to keep her lips sealed tight. One didn’t air dirty laundry in public.

  The men were gone for nearly an hour. By the time Ivan returned, Casey swore that she’d gained five pounds from all the food that she’d eaten. Limiting herself to one glass of wine was a good call.

  A front had moved through while they were dining, leaving the sidewalk damp with rain. Temperatures had dropped when the clouds rolled in. The lowering sky was still overcast, hiding the stars and imparting an intimacy to the evening. Ivan started with the Dom voice and Dom eyes almost as soon as they were buckled in the car. “You looked lovely tonight,” he purred like a jungle cat, dark and dangerous no matter how beautiful he appeared. “Take off your panties.”

  The low command made a shiver roll down Casey’s spine. Gripping her clutch nestled in her lap, she didn’t comply. “No.”

  Ivan tsked. “Kiska. Don’t tell me the trip to the bathroom was so satisfying.”

  Casey’s gaze clashed with his when she looked his way. He knew. Christ on a cracker. Had he had someone watching her? Or was it merely a guess? Maybe he’d noted the more relaxed posture of her body.

  “I’m not having sex with you, Ivan.” The words came out shaky, and Casey cursed internally. She hated sounding weak. This wasn’t her. Who she was.

  His chuckle wrapped itself around her, stroking her skin. “It’s inevitable.”

  Ivan sounded so sure and confident. Casey needed to put brakes on his sinful seduction. She gritted her teeth and glared at him, fire flashing in her eyes. “I’m not risking my career for a moment of pleasure in your bed. It’s not going to happen, so you might as well forget trying to convince me.”

  Ivan’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel until they were curled hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “We play at the club. You cannot tell me you don’t want to. We both know that’s a lie. Your body is hot for me. It wants this.”

  “I may be physically attracted to you but I decide if I want to act on it or not. And you're not the only Dom I play with,” she added, wanting to deflate his ego a little.

  A strained silence ensued.

  Casey experienced a tiny pang of regret at her outburst. She needed Ivan’s help to bring down Popov. Alienating him completely was something she couldn’t afford.

  “But we bo
th know you need me,” the Russian murmured as if reading her thoughts. “You make me crazy with lust. I won’t be left with blue balls, kiska. If you won’t give me your pussy, give me your mouth. Take me down your throat and I give up Popov. Such a small price to pay when you think about it.”

  It was forced compliance and she knew it. Knew it and did it anyway.

  She wanted her brother’s killer that badly.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Malik watched Casey slip through the front door and into the safety of her apartment building. Attention riveted on the departing vehicle, his gaze bore into the shadowy male figure within. It was the Russian that she’d been with at the fight, the Bratva officer who dealt in illegal arms.

  The man who’d been with her all day.

  Considering her dyed hair and the company she was keeping, they assumed that she was undercover. Unable to interfere without putting her at risk, they had been forced to watch from a distance.

  He and Iosefa had tailed their mate from the time she’d left the Citadel this morning. Her visit to the spa had been surprising. Seeing her leave hours later with the Russian had sent their blood pressure soaring. Shadowing them to an apartment, they’d observed them from a rooftop. When she’d emerged from a bedroom dressed sexily, her red hair brushed into a gleaming shine, Malik had barely been able to hold himself back. He didn’t care if she was undercover. The Russian was bad news. Theo’s warning rang in his head.

  Whatever darkness entwined their souls, he would fight to keep it from consuming her.

  The Russian had driven her to dinner at an Italian restaurant. They must have enjoyed it to have stayed there so long. It was two hours before they left. The male’s interest in Casey had been glaringly obvious. Every touch or caress he’d bestowed on her had torn low growls from their throats.

  She hadn’t reciprocated. That had been a small solace. With the night sky obscured by clouds, they’d flown stealthily above the car until it had parked.

  “What now?” Iosefa muttered, his own gruff mood reflected in his tone.

  Malik watched the soft glow of light behind the drawn curtains. “I don’t know…”

  It was late. Casey would be tired. They had no way of knowing her mood. Although every cell in his being urged him to go to her, he knew it could work against them. It was logical to wait until morning. They would stand guard all night. Protect her while she slept.

  Iosefa huffed, slipping in his earbuds. Malik knew the music soothed him. Helped him think.

  Thirty minutes passed and the light remained on. Movement caught his eye. The curtain twitched. Perhaps Casey was securing her home.

  Another ten minutes and their wildcat emerged hesitantly from the outer apartment door, carrying a tray with mugs and what looked like cookies. Her hair was damp around her shoulders and she’d changed into a comfortable pair of sweats. With her skin still pink from the heat of her shower, the jacket she’d added was thick enough to keep out the worst of the chill.

  Elbowing Iosefa in the ribs to get his attention, Malik almost stumbled over his own feet to reach her.

  “Casey, is everything okay?” he questioned, searching her large blue eyes. She’d warmed the cookies. The smell of melted chocolate laced the air but it didn’t mask the other scent he detected. Another male. The smell of musk, spice, and something far more primitive.

  Iosefa growled to smell it, too.

  One slender shoulder lifted carelessly. “I thought you guys might be cold. Is everything okay with Morgan? I didn’t expect to see anyone now that she’s staying at the Citadel.”

  A slight empty dullness hung in her tone. A frisson of fear prickled over the men. It wasn’t their own but leaked from the woman before them. Being this close after their earlier bonding made it easier for them to experience.

  She was afraid, that much they knew. Was she still concerned about Morgan or was it the Russian or something else entirely? Maybe being alone in her apartment was unsettling. Used to having Morgan there, she might be open to someone else’s company. If they could get her to invite them in, maybe they could get her to open up to them. All they wanted was a chance to show her how good the three of them could be together. She was their fated mate. She just needed to let herself see it. Feel it.

  Accept it.

  “Thank you, Casey,” Malik told her. “It’s very kind of you.”

  She grimaced, a guilty look stealing over her face. “Look, guys, I’m not good at apologies, so take this for what it is. I worry about Morgan. You guys don’t exactly inspire confidence when you live in a virtual compound. I can’t afford to give you the benefit of the doubt when it comes to my friends and myself. I’ve seen too much in my line of work. But your group earned my respect last night when they rescued her. So this is my way of saying thanks, I guess.”

  Malik and Iosefa shared a look. They’d never heard her so humble. So grateful.

  Accepting the mug she offered on the tray, Malik smiled with secret delight when he discovered it was hot chocolate.

  “You worry so much about Morgan,” he pointed out, cradling it carefully. “But who worries about you?”

  She looked away, a fleeting sadness in her eyes. “Morgan. My godmother. My partners, I hope.” She shook her head, making her red hair shift in the lamplight. “Sad, isn’t it? I have to borrow Morgan’s family when I need one.”

  Malik’s heart ached for her. He could not imagine life without his brothers around him. Even stationed at different cadres, they were all the same. Family. No matter their differences. Casey was lost. Without the comfort or counsel of loved ones. Without a North Star to guide her home. How he wished her to see that he and Iosefa were willing to fill that need. To become everything she needed or desired.

  “We are here,” Iosefa replied to her impulsively. “If you need us, we are here.”

  She exhaled softly, breath misting in the chill of the night. Iosefa pulled his cowl closer to his head to ward off the cold. A low rumble sounded in his throat, his true voice escaping before he realized what he was doing.

  Casey leaned toward him, drawn like a sailor to a siren’s song. “Crap,” she muttered to herself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  Straightening, she clutched the tray to her chest like a shield. “It’s cold,” she stated, taking care to not look at Iosefa and let him see how he affected her. “If you want to, you can come inside and warm up a bit.”

  They weren’t going to say no. When she turned to leave, they hurried after her. Iosefa took the tray from her when they reached the exterior door. Casey tapped in the code and Malik held it open, entering last and letting it lock securely behind them.

  She had lapsed into silence. Her usual fire was dimmed. She let them into the apartment and directed Iosefa to put the tray on the living room coffee table. “Give me your coats and have a seat,” she told them, motioning to the sofa.

  She carried their dampened outerwear into the kitchen and draped their coats on the backs of two chairs to dry. Shedding her jacket, she returned to the living room and took the matching loveseat on the opposite side of the coffee table.

  Iosefa looked at Malik, then slid his glance to Casey. “Why don’t you sit here?” he suggested. “There’s plenty of room between us.”

  Malik watched her response to Iosefa’s true voice resonating deep within her core, anchoring in and pulling her to them.

  Still, she resisted. Theo’s warning about her soul mate echoed in Malik’s head. The need to touch her, to comfort her compelled him to reach out his hand and motion for her to come to them. He wanted to warm the chill on her soul. Caress her. Soothe her fears and banish her doubts. They needed to make her forget the Russian. Her soul connection binding her to him had triggered hidden longings inside her. The need for belonging. The need to love and be loved. They sensed that she was missing connections to friends, family, and lovers in her life. She was as vulnerable tonight as they’d ever seen her.

  Tonight, her walls were down.
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  Casey rose from her chair and rounded the table, folded her legs, and gracefully lowered herself onto the center cushion of the sofa.

  Turning to face her, Malik fished out the vial from his shirt pocket. “Here. A gift for you. We had Elijah make some for you since you liked the scent of Morgan’s.”

  He didn’t tell her that the vial had been blended for weeks. They’d anointed the bulb by her bed, hoping it would help her open to them. Malik and Iosefa had even rubbed it into their skin to entice her.

  He held the bottle of blended oils out to her in his upturned palm.

  Casey reached out, her fingers curling around the glass. “I... thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Iosefa murmured, his voice deep. She shivered in response, her eyes closing briefly. Leaning in, the Samoan gently nuzzled her cheek. “Beautiful Casey, let us comfort you tonight. Be the strength you yearn for in the depths of your dreams.”

  Her lips parted in response. Sensing her instant reaction to his partner’s real voice, Malik knew at that moment they had her. Whatever had brought this fragileness to their wildcat tonight, she was theirs. Wrong or right, the desire to care for her was stronger than any other need.

  Malik pressed his lips to the tempting curve of her jaw. “Let us take care of you. We sense your longing and can let you soar in the warmth and joy of our arms. You need not fear that you will fall. We will be there to catch you.”

  Her breath escaped in a ragged little pant. “Yes... Please... I….” When her long black lashes fluttered up, tears sparkled like diamonds in her eyes. “Hold me.” The plea was small and meek. Not the fierce woman they had come to know. It was as if something had finally cracked within her, spilling free. The spiky shell she hid behind was gone.

  Placing a finger under her chin, Malik tilted her head in his direction. The kiss was soft, gentle. A tasting of the emotions that trembled on her mouth.