by Cora Reilly
“Damn it,” I muttered. Loyalty.
Loyalty to the Camorra and to Remo, that’s what I’d sworn. An oath that meant everything to me, but protecting Leona made keeping my oath impossible.
Remo didn’t give a fuck about Soto or that I’d killed him, but he would care about me going around killing Made Men without his direct orders.
And then there was Boulder’s miserable fight tonight. It was a big possibility that Remo got suspicious about that as well. God, Leona. Why did she have to bet money? Why did she have to meddle with things she had no clue about?
Because I’d backed her in a corner and cornered dogs tried to bite. Fuck!
I could try to blame Boulder’s failure on Soto. Tell Remo he had drugged the man and that I had killed him because of it. But Soto had no interest in changing the outcome of the fight. He hadn’t placed a bet, no Camorrista ever did if they knew what was good for them. But Leona had, and Griffin would tell Remo if he asked. I grabbed Soto and dragged him toward my car. The parking lot was deserted but if I wasted more time standing around and looking for a solution to the mess I was in, that might eventually change. I put Soto’s body in my trunk, and drove off, out of the city and into the desert. I had a shovel in my trunk, next to the spare tire.
When I found a promising spot, I parked the car, took the shovel from the trunk and shoved it violently into the dry ground. It would take me hours to dig deep enough to hide the body. And all the hard work might be for nothing in the end.
I was covered in dirt and sweat when I finally unlocked my apartment with my second key. It was quiet inside. I closed the door and headed for the liquor cabinet. I didn’t bother with a glass, instead I took a long swig of whiskey from the bottle. The burn of the alcohol cleared the fog of exhaustion.
Leona appeared at the top of the stairs, backlit by the soft glow from the bedroom. She was dressed in one of my shirts. She looked small in it. Vulnerable.
“Fabiano? Is that you?” she asked hesitantly. I took another swig.
I set the bottle down on the counter and moved toward the stairs, then took them one after the other. Leona’s eyes took in my rumpled appearance. “I was worried,” she said as I stopped two steps below her, bringing us on eye-level.
“It takes a while to bury a body in dry desert soil,” I said, my voice raspy from the whisky.
She nodded as if she knew what I was talking about. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I ground out.
Her mouth parted. “You are?”
“For making you think you had no choice but to do something that foolish, for making you think you couldn’t come to me to ask for help. Not for killing your father. I would do it again if it meant protecting you.”
She averted her gaze, chest heaving. “You look like you could use a shower.”
I smiled wryly. “I could use a lot of things right now.”
She tilted her head toward me, searched my eyes, but didn’t say anything. I walked past her into the bedroom and continued into the bathroom. I got out of my clothes. They were covered in dust and Soto’s blood. I’d have to burn them tomorrow. Not that it would matter. I stepped into the shower. Leona stood in the doorway, watching me. I kept my eyes on her as hot water rained down on me. I liked the sight of her in my shirt. I would have preferred her naked.
Tonight everything had changed. I had made a choice, and I had chosen Leona. Over the Camorra, over Remo.
What had happened in the basement – that was something Remo had been able to overlook, but today, me killing one of his men to protect a woman?
No. That was something he’d never forgive, nor comprehend. He wasn’t the forgiving type. I wouldn’t forgive me if I were him.
I shut the water off. Leona picked up a towel and handed it to me. Her eyes moved down my body, then back up to my face. I wanted her. I wanted, I needed some small sign that I had chosen right. Fuck.
I dried myself half-heartedly, then thrust the towel onto the ground.
Leona didn’t move as I advanced on her, gripped her hips and lowered my mouth to hers for a hard kiss. My fingers on her waist tightened when she kissed me back.
I began guiding her backwards, out of the bathroom and toward my bed. She didn’t resist. Her legs hit the bedframe and she fell backwards. My shirt rode up her thighs, revealing that she wasn’t wearing panties. I breathed out harshly. My cock was already hard. I wanted to finally be in her.
She must have seen it too but there was only need in her eyes, not fear. I climbed on the bed and moved between her legs, then pushed them apart and lowered my body on top of hers.
She sucked in a tense breath but didn’t push me away, or protest. I kissed her again, my tongue tasting her mouth. My cock was pressed up against her inner thigh. A small shift of my hips and I’d be buried in her tight heat.
She brought a hand up, the one with the bracelet, and raked it through my wet hair, which was dripping water down on our faces.
I pulled back a couple of inches. “Why didn’t you pawn it for your bet?”
She followed my gaze. “I couldn’t do it. Because you gave it to me.”
Fuck. The look in her eyes. “I thought you hated me. That’s what you said.”
“I was trying to. But…” she trailed off. “You saved me again. You are the only one who cares enough to risk anything at all for me. It’s pathetic, but there’s only you.”
I couldn’t say anything to her emotional words. Nothing that would have done them justice. “I want you,” I rasped into her ear, then added in an even lower voice. “I need you.”
Her eyes searched mine. She couldn’t stop looking for something, even after everything that had happened.
She lifted her hips slightly, making the tip of my cock slide over her slick folds. I hissed in response to the silent invitation. It was too enticing. To take her right now, no more waiting. But she was worth the wait.
I sat back on my hunches and unbuttoned her shirt, then helped her pull it off, allowed my eyes to take in her flawless skin. I was tired and still riled up. My control was at its limits but I forced myself to lower my mouth to her pussy. Surprise flashed across her face and then her lips parted in a soft moan as I dipped my tongue between her folds. After a few strokes along her heated flesh, I closed my lips around her clit. I was too impatient for the slow approach.
She rewarded me with a gasp and opened her legs even wider. My mouth on her bundle of nerves quickly had her panting and slick with arousal. I pushed a finger into her, fucking loving the way her walls clamped around me. I couldn’t wait for them to do that to my cock. She bucked her hips, crying out and I pushed a second finger into her. She shuddered, as I guided her through her orgasm with slow strokes of my fingers and tongue. But my own need was too urgent now. My cock was close to exploding.
I straightened and reached for the drawer. I took a condom from it before I covered my cock with it. Leona watched me with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. I stretched out above her and guided my cock to her entrance. For a moment, I considered saying something, words she wanted to hear, loving words, gentle words, but I couldn’t. I was filled with so much darkness and despair because I knew this was the only night we’d ever have. I felt it deep down.
I held her gaze as I pushed forward. My tip slid in, tightly gripped by her heat. She tensed, breath stilling in her throat. Her eyes were soft, and fucking emotional. I could not hold back. I didn’t want to. I captured her mouth, eyes boring down into hers, as I claimed her fully. Her resistance fell under the pressure and she gasped against my lips, body taut under me.
“I betrayed for you, I killed for you,” I said roughly, pulling out of her slowly until only my tip remained inside her. “I’ll bleed and I’ll die for you.” I thrust back into her, trying to hold back.
Her eyes widened. From my words and pain. She clung to me, those fucking cornflower blue eyes never leaving my face.
I’ll bleed and I’ll die for you.
I
t wasn’t a promise, not a sappy declaration of my feelings. It was a prediction.
I pushed deeper and harder with every thrust and she held onto me, eyes boring into mine. And I claimed her with every thrust, trying to convince myself that this was worth it, that Leona was worth the trouble I was willing to take on for her. That she was worth dying for.
Because Remo would kill me.
She sucked in her breath a few times. I knew I needed to be more careful, to go slower but I couldn’t stop. It felt like our time was running through our fingers and I needed to make every moment count. She made me betray Remo, something I’d never considered before, she made me break my oath of putting the Camorra first.
Was she worth it?
As our sweat covered bodies moved against each other, as her tightness squeezed down on me, as her eyes hung onto mine with trust and something stronger and more dangerous, I decided she was worth it. I wasn’t sure how it had come to this. How could I have let it come so far? How could she still look at me with those fucking caring eyes after everything? She was messed up, and so was I.
I held her tightly as I came inside her. She gasped again, her breathing labored, cheeks flushed. She blinked at me slowly as if she was dazed and only just waking from a dream. Her lips brushed mine softly, and I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was about to say words I couldn’t say back. Words she shouldn’t even consider saying, not after what I’d done, not after what she knew about me, not when I was a dead man walking. No words would change that. Nothing could. “Don’t say anything,” I whispered harshly, and she listened. I rolled us over and pulled her against me. She winced but then pressed up against me. Her body against mine felt like it was supposed to be like that. But I knew it might be the only time I could hold her like that.
I woke to Fabiano’s fingers tracing my spine. The touch was gentle, almost reverent.
I peered over my shoulder. He was propped up on his arm and followed the movement of his hand on my back. Hands that could kill without remorse, hands that were inexplicably gentle to me. His gaze found me and I rolled over. Neither of us said anything. I kissed him.
I was sore from last night but I wouldn’t let that stop me, not only because he looked like he needed this more than air but also because I needed him. Last night, Fabiano, above me, in me, I’d felt like things had fallen into place. I’d never had a place to call home, but with him I felt anchored.
Things were complicated between us, they couldn’t be anything else, given our pasts and lives, but I knew no matter what he was, nobody would ever make me feel more cared for than he did. We were twisted and broken and fucked up. Both of us. Why had I ever thought I could be with someone straight-laced, someone with a normal past? That kind of man would never get me, not the same way Fabiano did. Reaching for his neck, I pulled him toward me. He didn’t resist. Our lips glided over each other as he reached between us, found my opening to test my readiness. He shifted and his tip pressed against me. My fingers on his neck tightened as he claimed me with a slow push. My walls quivered in a mix of pain and pleasure. I exhaled sharply. He moved slowly, gently. Last night had been despair and possessiveness, and perhaps even fear and anger. This was different. It felt like…lovemaking. In a twisted way. Perhaps twisted was all I’d ever get.
His mouth found mine as his chest rubbed over my breasts. I moaned as he hit a spot deep within, lifted my butt, needing more. His fingers slipped between my legs, finding my bundle of nerves and began their soft play. I gasped against his lips, and his tongue slipped in, meeting mine for a slow dance. My toes curled and my fingers scratched over the linen as he sped up. Sparks of pleasure traveled from my core into every nerve ending.
I cried out, my hips bucking, and Fabiano pushed hard into me as he too lost control. We gasped, shook against each other. Too many sensations, too many feelings. For a moment he didn’t move, his hot mouth against my throat, then he rolled over and pulled me with him so my cheek rested against his chest. As if he was trying to hide his face from me.
Our breathing was ragged.
“My sister gave it to me,” he said. His words dragged me back to reality.
I followed his gaze toward the bracelet dangling around my wrist. I twisted my head to catch a glimpse at his expression but he tightened his hold.
“Your sister?”
“Aria, my oldest sister. Last time I saw her, she gave it to me.”
That his sister had given it to him made it somehow even more precious. “When you were younger?”
“No,” he said quietly. “Shortly before I met you. I was on a mission in New York.” He fell silent. He didn’t want to talk about the mission, and I wouldn’t push.
“So she gave it to you so you’d remember her?”
He laughed, a raw sound. “She gave it to me so I would give it someone who would help me remember the brother she used to know.”
“So you haven’t always been like this.” It was a stupid thing to say. Nobody was born a killer. They were turned into one by society and their upbringing. He finally allowed me to lift my face. There was a strange smile on his face. “Like this?”
“You know,” I said quietly, because what else was there to say. He knew what he was.
“I know,” he murmured. “That’s all I’ll ever be. You know that, right?”
Part of me wanted to contradict him because it was what one was supposed to do, but I couldn’t. “I know,” I said, and he smiled wryly. “I gave the bracelet to you because I wanted it gone. It annoyed the crap out of me that my sister was trying to manipulate me somehow. But I think she got it right in the end.”
I wondered what he meant by that, but his phone rang in that moment. We both looked toward the nightstand and my heart skipped a beat when I saw who was calling.
I glanced down at the screen. Remo. I untangled myself from Leona and reached for my mobile.
Leona’s eyes pleaded with me to ignore the call, but I needed to find out if Remo was on our trail. I picked up. “What’s up?”
“I need you to kill Adamo for me,” he muttered.
I sat up, shocked.
Leona threw me a worried look. I shook my head, trying to show her that we weren’t in trouble. Yet.
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Adamo was a pain in the ass, but how could he be any other way. He was only thirteen, had been only five when his father had been killed. Remo and his brothers had to go into hiding after that because their own family was fighting for the position as Capo and wanted them dead. He’d seen too much already.
“Cane told me he got word that Adamo did cocaine. Twice.”
I grimaced. “You sure?”
“Apparently he’s hanging with one of our errand boys. The fucker gave him the stuff.” Remo paused. “Last night he stole my Bugatti and drove it into a building.”
Adamo had managed to steal another car?
“One day he’s going to get himself killed. He doesn’t seem to care for his life.”
I loosened my hold on the steering wheel. Remo was worried. Or as worried as Remo was capable of being. “What do you want me to do?”
“Give him a good scare. One that keeps him from doing shit like this. And kill all the other fuckers. Make him watch. Don’t be lenient to him, hurt him, Fabiano. If he gets addicted to the shit, he’s fucking lost. A bullet to the head will be his end then.”
“Got it. I’ll handle him.”
Leona worried her lower lip. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not but it’s got nothing to with us,” I said with a sigh. It was a good sign that Remo trusted me with Adamo. That meant perhaps I’d live to spend another night with Leona in my arms. “I have to deal with one of Remo’s brothers.”
Surprise filled her face but she didn’t ask for more details.
“Why don’t you stay here and have breakfast? I should still have eggs in the fridge.” I slid out of bed and dressed quickly. With a kiss and las
t glance at Leona’s worried face, I headed out and went in search of Adamo.
I found the Bugatti on the side of the street, completely trashed. A tow-truck from the company we worked with for the races parked behind it, and Marcos, one of the other organizers of the races, and the driver of the tow-truck were walking around the car. I got out of my own and strode toward them.
Marcos raised his palms. “I don’t know how he managed to sneak into the qualification race. That boy is like fucking David Copperfield.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
He shrugged. “He went off with two guys. That Rodriguez kid and the Pruitt kid, the one that sells snuff around here.”
I asked around until I finally found one of our dealers who knew where Pruitt spent his days. It was an abandoned repair shop. I peered through the half open gate.
Adamo and the two older boys were gathered around the hood of an old red Chevy. Adamo’s long hair was matted to his head with blood, and yet he was laughing at something Pruitt said. The fucker shoved a piece of silver with white powder over to Adamo, who looked fucking eager to get his nose down to business.
“Best nose candy, I tell ya,” Pruitt said as he leaned down to sniff his own stuff.
I slid in. Adamo was the first to see me, and he opened his mouth for a warning. I gripped the back of Pruitt’s head and shoved it down hard, smashing his face into the hood. “Enjoy your nose candy,” I growled, then ripped his head back. Blood was shooting out of his nose and his face was covered in it and cocaine. His widened, dazed eyes settled on my face. I gave him a cold smile, but released him when Rodriguez leaped toward me with an iron bar. Pruitt crumbled to my feet and Rodriguez swept the bar at my head. I dropped to my knees. The bar crashed down on the hood. I pulled my knife and slashed it upwards, cutting him open. He dropped the iron bar, then sank to his knees across from me, clutching his stomach. I rose to my feet, then turned to Adamo. His shock was replaced by defiance when he met my eyes. He lifted his chin in challenge.