Beautifully Broken (The Denver Series Book 2)

by Eve L Mitchell

  “You’re right.” His face was closed off again. The impassive mask firmly back on. “Go to your room.”

  “Why?” I wailed in despair.

  “Because you threw a knife at me. Because you can identify me at the scene of a crime. Because you just told me you didn’t want to be around me.”

  “Fine.” I headed to the stairs, intent on locking myself in the room and having the breakdown I deserved.

  “Devon,” his voice carried softly across the room. “I like the way you say my name.”

  I faltered and almost missed the first step. Gripping the banister tightly, I strode up the stairs, ignoring him and the flutter of butterflies in my belly at his words.

  He couldn’t say shit like that to me. I had enough problems.

  I watched her walk up the stairs, her shoulders heavy with defeat. I popped a piece of her orange in my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. She had seen more than she even knew. I was still confident that she hadn’t seen Louis, but could I take that chance? And telling her I liked the way she said my name? What the fuck was that about?

  I opened the fridge and stared at the depleted contents. She’d almost cleaned me out of food. I looked at the wilted lettuce and wrinkled tomatoes. Not much I could do with that. Looking in the freezer, I tried not to think how one woman could eat three pizzas in three days, along with all the other food she’d eaten.

  Picking up my phone, I dialled. “Yeah, it’s me, I need lunch picked up from the bistro. Enough for two.” I waited as I listened. “I don’t care,” I snapped. “Just pick up two lunches. Yes, two.”

  Looking around the main floor, I saw the obvious signs that someone had lived here for days. I needed a housekeeper. Taking water, my phone and her orange, I headed to the den.

  I was watching the news when I heard her approach. Her steps were light but noticeable. I turned slightly in the recliner I was sitting on so I could see her. Just like the night in the alley, she tried to conceal herself. Observe without being noticed. She’d brushed her hair again, I noticed, and it fell almost to her ass. The amount of times she pulled it, tugged it, played with it, told me she wasn’t used to it being so long.

  “You can come in or spy,” I told her and watched in satisfaction as she jumped. “You’re shit at stealth.”

  I heard her mutter asshole, and I fought the smile. She was right, I didn’t need to smile around her. I shouldn’t find her amusing. I watched her look around the cosy den. This suited me more, and I didn’t think Aiden had used it much. He was more drawn to the view from the main room, whereas I liked the den because it was compact, smaller and dark.

  “This is nice,” Devon said as she sat down on the other recliner. There was a small two-seater couch too, but I liked the leather recliner. “This makes more sense for you,” she mused thoughtfully.

  “What does?” I was looking at the TV, but she had my full attention. She seemed to have that ability whenever she was in the room. I thought about the three days I had spent in San Diego, wondering if she was alright, knowing it just wasn’t when she was in the room that she had my attention.

  “This smaller room, only one access, darker, more…masculine.” She gave me a quick rueful smile before she seemed to remember who she was talking to.

  I grunted and said nothing. We sat in silence for a few minutes as the newscaster told us the happenings of the outside world. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She had her legs pulled up to her chin, her hair hiding her face, and from her sitting position, I knew she was studying the dark carpet and not the TV. Twice she lifted her head as if to speak and then seemed to decide against it. If I watched her much more, I would give myself a squint.

  Trying to relax, I focused fully on the screen. I actually heard the market report on the stock exchange opening figures this morning. I heard Devon clear her throat, and I looked at her in surprise; it had been a comfortable silence. She was staring at me, her cheek resting on her knees, her eyes wide as she looked at me.

  “What?” My voice sounded harsh even to me. It pissed me off that I noticed this. I wasn’t a gentle man. She knew that, so when she flinched from my brusqueness, it fucked me off a little.

  “I’m hungry.” Devon continued to watch me. “And I wanted to say thanks for my underwear.” She pointed to her feet. “And my slippers.” She continued to stare at me. “And I wanted to”—she frowned as she licked her lips nervously—“keep talking.”

  “Keep talking?” I asked. “From this morning or in general?”

  Devon rolled her eyes at me. “From this morning.”

  I heard the front door buzzer, and I rose as she looked at me in surprise before turning to the door with anticipation.

  “Stay,” I said, ignoring her cry of protest as I closed the door behind me, locking her in. I headed to the main door and opened it, seeing the downstairs doorman waiting expectantly with a delivery bag. I opened the door.

  “Delivery for you,” he told me as he avoided eye contact while he handed it over.

  I took the bag and handed him a twenty. As I opened the boxes of food, I read the note Levi sent with the chicken wraps, fries and side salad.

  Send lunch for two!? That’s it?

  You got two lunch specials.

  You’re a dick, I hope you choke.

  L

  Even on paper, he was a whiny fuck. Grinning as I plated the food, I grabbed two water bottles and carried it all to the den. Balancing the plates took me a moment before I had opened the door. She was in the same position I left her. Her angry glare melted into anticipation when she saw the food. Quickly she was on her feet and taking one plate off me and a water.

  “Thanks,” Devon said as she hurried back to her seat before she paused. “This is for me?”

  “Who else would it be for?” I asked as I popped a fry in my mouth as I sat down.

  “I don’t know how many captives you have in here.”

  “At least three.” I bit into my chicken wrap. He may be a pain in the ass, but the man could season. I realised Devon was staring at me with wide eyes, a fry hanging forgotten from her fingers. “I’m joking,” I told her, and she relaxed and ate the fry. “There’s four.”

  I watched as she choked in surprise, and I continued to eat my wrap as I heard her coughing beside me.

  “You’re an asshole,” she spluttered as she reached for her water.

  I shrugged as I ate, my focus on the TV again. I heard her resume eating, seemingly enjoying the food the same as me.

  “Did you order?”

  I ignored her. If it was to start a conversation, I didn’t make small talk. If it was rhetorical, it didn’t require a response, and if she was asking if I had made the food, she knew better.

  She didn’t push her line of enquiry, and I decided she was making small talk. Considering she had been watching serial killers the night before, I wondered if they had recommended striking a rapport with your abductor to make the abductee more human.

  Finally, she placed her plate on the floor. “Thank you.”

  I grunted a reply as I watched the reporter talk.

  “You don’t strike me as the type to watch celebrity gossip.”

  I switched the TV off, and standing, I turned to her. “Come.”

  “Sit, stay, come,” I heard her muttering behind me as she picked her plate and bottle up, hurrying after me into the kitchen.

  “You know, for someone who protests that you aren’t a dog, you obey very well.”

  Her back straightened in an instant, her eyes narrowed in anger, and as she opened her mouth to tear me a new one, I found myself mesmerised by her. Whatever she saw in my face stopped her words, and she took a step back. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked me as her eyes darted to the stairs.

  “I don’t want to hear you screeching,” I told her defensively. She didn’t buy it. I could see by the way she assessed me, her head tilting to the side slightly. Even that small inquisitive gesture fascinated me. Why was she
no longer scared? “I need to go.”

  Devon’s expression morphed into panic, and she took a step towards me. “Please don’t leave me in here again.”

  “You’re safe in here.”

  “Am I?” Her soft voice and penetrating stare made me uncomfortable.

  “Yes, no one can get in.” I reached for my jacket and holstered my gun.

  “And I can’t get out.” Devon looked at me sadly.

  “That’s the plan.” I watched her struggle to keep her thoughts to herself. “Just say it.”

  Devon looked at me and then away before she met my eyes. “I can’t keep living here. You have to make a decision.”

  “I thought you weren’t eager to die.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to be caged either,” she admitted with a soft sigh. “Having this hanging over me…I don’t like uncertainties.”

  Really? She lived on the street. How uncertain could you get? “It’s not uncertain,” I told her as I walked away from her. “I’m certain you’re staying in here for the time being.”

  I closed the front door, sure that I heard her stifled scream. I grinned as I waited for the elevator. I knew this was dangerous, she could get out. Worse, I may let her go. It wasn’t as far-fetched an idea as it was when I brought her here.

  “Are you smiling?”

  Fuck me. “Katalina,” I greeted, losing the smile.

  “It’s not like you to be here in the middle of the day?” I saw her glance at the penthouse door. “Or be happy.” She stepped closer to me, taking the step so she was in front of me. She looked over my shoulder and then at me with a frown. “What’s behind door number two?” she enquired softly.

  I met her prying look and raised an eyebrow. “Aiden’s penthouse. I know it’s a mystery to you what your ex-husband’s penthouse looks like, but it’s not for me to divulge.”

  Her curiosity vanished as her stare hardened. “I hate you,” she told me with a false smile.

  “I know.”

  “You know, one day,” Kat said as she turned back to face the elevator, “one day, you’ll need me.” She glared at me again. “And I’ll say no.”

  I snorted as the doors opened. I walked inside instead of letting her go first, as I should for a lady. Trouble was I didn’t see a lady in front of me. She went to follow, and I stepped up to the doors so she, nor her bodyguard, could pass me. I pressed the button for down and smirked. “I won’t.”

  The doors closed to her angry cry of protest, and I enjoyed a sweet silent ride down to the underground parking. I made my way over to my Jaguar F-TYPE, admiring its sleek lines and superior finishes. I loved this car, it was one of my better purchases. Driving it was effortless yet incredibly enjoyable.

  Once in the car, I called Cam.

  “Hey?” He sounded guilty.

  “You fucked the dancer.”

  “I can explain—” he started.

  “Does Antonio know yet?”

  “No.” He sighed heavily.

  “Tell him.” I started the engine. “Then fix it.”

  “Her boyfriend is a fucking NBA star, how do I fix it?” he hissed down the phone to me.

  “Keep your dick out of her and shut her up about her feelings for a new man.”

  “Raphe—”

  “No.” I drove out of the parking lot onto the street, seeing Kat get into a waiting car, her long legs disappearing inside as I waited to turn out.

  “He’s going to ask for you,” Cammy grumbled.

  “He can ask, it’s your mess. Fix it.” I hung up. When I had seen the news piece on the NBA star and his current problems with his girlfriend, my attention had been caught. Cammy and I had gone to the girl’s place of work after I had loaded up and changed clothes at my condo.

  All we had to do was find out what she knew and check the phone for other pictures. I would talk to her, and Cammy would snag the phone. Simple. Only the dick thought with his dick when he realised how beautiful she was, and he was all over her. Which turned out to be a good thing because while we talked to her, someone took a shot at her. Or Cammy. I wasn’t entirely certain it wasn’t a coincidence.

  While I chased down the gunman, Cammy whisked the dancer out of the club and disappeared with her.

  For two days.

  As I did all the work, chasing leads down, interrogating guys and then cleaning it all up, he played house with the girl. When he made contact on the third day, I was ready to kill the fucker myself.

  Her phone had accidentally been smashed when the shot was fired, so if she backed up to the Cloud, we didn’t know. He told me, to my face, he didn’t touch her. Swore that he was a gentleman and hadn’t so much as laid a finger on her. Which is why the current news story about the high-profile basketball star losing focus because he was experiencing relationship problems with his girlfriend, made me stand up and leave the penthouse.

  My phone rang, and I bit back the sigh. “Yeah,” I answered as I drove through the heavy traffic.

  “Did you see the news?”

  “No, why?”

  “I’m at the coffee shop. I need to know everything, now.” Malcolm hung up, and I drummed my fingers off the steering wheel.

  I hadn’t told him what happened yet, because while Cammy was being a domestic dickhead with the girl, I had left Devon in the penthouse for three days. When I landed in Denver, I headed straight there, picking up the clothing items I had asked to be delivered from the doorman before getting in the elevator. This morning, I had gone out and checked my intel for the Louis and Emilio situation, ensuring no one knew I had an eyewitness tucked up safely in a third bedroom in a penthouse suite.

  Now Cammy’s girl was on the news, breaking her boyfriend’s heart because she “had a spiritual experience and connection with a mystery man, like no other she had ever met.” If Antonio called, maybe I would take the job to take Cammy out after all.

  I parked the car and made the short journey to the coffee shop. Les sat in his spot at the door, nursing a coffee, and Malcolm sat at his usual table, two cups in front of him, and as I took my seat, I returned his hard stare with one of unconcern.

  “I didn’t ask why it took three days,” Malcolm began. “I don’t own you, and I know you don’t just work for me, so I don’t get involved in your extracurricular activities.” He leaned forward, and I saw that he was furious, which was rare, as he controlled his emotions well. “But when the head of a family contacts me in the middle of a business meeting to ask about you and your work etiquette, I need to ask, especially when it’s in connection with what they made Aiden go to San Diego for.”

  “Who called?” I asked as I picked up my coffee.

  “Nico,” Malcolm spat, his distaste heavy in his voice.

  “He isn’t a head,” I said quietly as I put my coffee cup back down. “Plus, he detests Cam and Aiden, he’s eager to prove neither are trustworthy and by doing that, it means I may not be trustworthy,” I reminded him.

  “I know what the fucker thinks of my son,” Malcolm bit out. “I do my best to keep my son off their radar.”

  “Mm-hmm, which is why you made him marry a Vialli and then allowed the Viallis to rent him out to the Sabinos. Pretty effective way of keeping him off the radar.” I surprised myself more with my comment than I did Malcolm.

  Malcolm sat back and watched me, and I met his glare. “You speak out of turn.”

  “No. I don’t.” I stood. “Cam will fix it. He’s young, he rarely fucks up.”

  “He’s six years younger than you.”

  “As I said, he’s young.” Picking up my coffee, I drained it. “This isn’t my problem, and it sure as hell isn’t yours.”

  “And the girl?”

  “I said Cam will deal with it.” I watched him for a moment. “You’re right, I don’t work solely for you. It’s time you remembered that.” I walked across the café, pissed off more than I should be.

  “I meant the other girl, the one you just bought lunch for.”

 
My footstep faltered just like Devon’s did this morning. I stopped short of the door, Les tensing where he sat. My back was to Malcolm, but I could see his reflection in the glass. I turned my head, not looking over my shoulder completely but enough so he knew that he had my attention. “Be very careful, Malcolm,” I warned quietly before I walked out of the coffee shop.

  My phone was ringing by the time I was back at my Jag. “Yeah,” I answered.

  “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “Okay.” I started the car.

  “You think I lied to you, I didn’t.” Cam sounded pissed off.

  “Okay.”

  “You don’t believe me?” he asked me, sounding wounded.

  “Cam,” I sighed as I pulled out onto the street. “I don’t give a fuck. What I do give a shit about is Nico calling Denver, questioning my ability to do a job.”

  “That fat fucker,” he cursed more, and I could hear him pacing. “I’ll fix it. Dana just got confused.”

  “Unconfuse her.”

  “I will. I’ll explain to the family too,” he assured, his tone serious. “I really didn’t sleep with her.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “Harm’s going ape shit.” He sounded miserable, and I grunted in amusement. “She doesn’t believe me either.”

  “Are you done?”

  “Yes, Raphael,” he mocked me. “I won’t dare discuss life like a normal human being anymore.”

  “Good.” I went to hang up and hesitated. “If you need me, call. Don’t tell anyone else.”

  His silence was long before he spoke. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t call me if it’s to discuss feelings for Harmony.” I mocked him, and I hung up as he started cursing.

  My phone rang again instantly. I was so popular today. “Yeah.”

  “Raphe, it’s Louis, I need you at the ranch.”

  Everyone needed a piece of me today. I told Louis I was heading out to him and changed my route to the ranch. I felt tiredness pull at me as I drove and thought back on the last few weeks. Louis Neroni was a decent man, for one of the heads of an organised crime family. He didn’t get involved with too much of the business side of things, but his son had been shot in crossfire when he was a young teenager, and Emilio, Louis’s nephew, was only a year younger than his son.