Beautifully Broken (The Denver Series Book 2)

by Eve L Mitchell

  Louis took Emilio under his wing, reportedly much to the distress of Louis’s sister who wasn’t involved in the family business at all. Emilio was weak. There was no better word for it. He gambled too much, drank too much, and left too many beaten women behind him. He was a coward, and although Louis was a good enough man, he was blind to his nephew’s faults. Which Emilio knew and capitalised on. Emilio was lazy. Proven when he didn’t notice Devon behind the dumpster, and proven again when Louis had to kill the sous-chef. Who the fuck froze when a witness presented themselves?

  Says you who has the witness holed up in a penthouse. I pushed the reminder away. I didn’t want to think of Devon at the moment. I checked the time as I drove out of Denver to the Neroni ranch. She’s going to be hungry soon, I thought as I drove. I wouldn’t stay long, and then I could head back to her and decide what the next step was.

  Why there were steps at all was as confusing to me as it was to her. As it was to Malcolm. I sneered as I thought of our earlier conversation. I worked for him, but I did work for a number of people. It would be fair to say that I was favourable to Malcolm, but anyone with the right fee could employ me. Malcolm was pushing too much for me to be his sole weapon. Truth was Malcolm didn’t get too dirty, not dirty enough that he needed me full time.

  Freelance was more rewarding anyway. Less drama. I detested drama.

  When I got to the ranch, I waited to be let through the gates, and a few minutes later, I was parked in the ostentatious driveway. I had no idea how many acres this place came with, but it was overkill. Looking at the huge log and glass “cabin,” I smoothed my frown. Cabin, my ass.

  “You’re expected on the patio,” one of the staff told me. I nodded my acknowledgment and headed to the back.

  Louis was in the hot tub, and I took a seat on one of the nearby chairs. “Nice day for it.” Louis grinned. “You want to come in?”

  “No.”

  “You need to loosen up.” Louis smiled at me. “Get a girl.”

  “No.”

  He laughed loudly, and then he stood up, getting out of the hot tub and revealing his Speedo. An image burned forever on my retinas. No man needed to see that.

  “I heard a rumour,” Louis began, and I found myself stiffening in apprehension, “that you were in San Diego for three days with that joke of a Sabino boy, Cameron.” I watched him as he pulled on a robe and then walked over to me and joined me at the table. “He’s dangerous,” Louis warned me.

  “Is this why I’m here?” I asked curiously. “You want to warn me about Cammy?”

  “No,” Louis sighed. “Emilio wants an introduction.”

  I stared at him. “To Cammy?” I wasn’t sure I was hearing this properly.

  “No, the Sabinos in general.”

  “I’m not a matchmaker.”

  Louis laughed out loud as one of his female staff brought out a tray of iced tea and a plate of sandwiches. “I know, I told him you would say no.”

  I waited until I was handed a glass of iced tea and the girl was gone. “Then why am I here?”

  “I wanted to see your reaction.” Louis shrugged as he smiled. “Plus, can’t a man talk to his friend?”

  “If I was your friend, Louis, you wouldn’t have shown me you in a Speedo.”

  His laugh was loud as he drank his tea, and the two of us spent some time making small talk about some upcoming work. It wasn’t unusual for Louis and me to spend time with each other for no other reason than to have a conversation under the pretence of freelance work. He’d always been decent to me, and I knew he would put a bullet in my back as quickly as I would him. It was relaxing to know where you stood. Louis was talking to me about his failed attempts to play golf when he was interrupted with the ringing of my phone. Seeing who it was gave me pause before I stood and walked away from Louis before I answered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Raphe, you in the penthouse?” Aiden asked me.

  “No, why?”

  “Because apparently it’s on fire, I’m heading there now.”

  On fire? Understanding washed over me. That clever bitch. “It isn’t, give me five minutes.” I hung up and looked at Louis. “I have to go.”

  “Go.” He smiled at me as he made a shooing gesture with his hands. “But remember you are always welcome here.”

  I hesitated. It was genuine, and I wasn’t sure I liked the open acknowledgment of familiarity. “I’ll talk to you later.” I left hurriedly and got in the car. As I drove down the driveway, I called Aiden back.

  “Aiden, where are you?” I asked as I thought about how long it would take to get to the condo from here.

  “Heading in, beat the emergency services.” He sounded pissed off.

  “Call them off,” I instructed. “It’s not on fire, I’ll explain when I get there.”

  “Raphe?”

  “Just…” I took a deep breath. “Just don’t let her out, for fuck’s sake, make sure she doesn’t run or talk to anyone.”

  “Who’s her?”

  “I’ll explain,” I answered tersely. “Just call off the cavalry and keep her there.” I hung up and floored the gas.

  My indecision not to kill her better not bite me in the ass.

  “What is wrong with you!” I yelled at the smoke detector. Every time the alarms sounded, they quietened again. It was like they were teasing me. I had found matches at the back of a cupboard, and after finding a smoke detector that was close enough to reach, which was in my—no, not mine, the—bedroom, I had held a match up under the detector. My muscles ached, I had been stretched for so long. Match after match until I finally got the alarm to sound. I had collapsed on the bed in victory.

  I didn’t know why it had taken me so long to think of it. I couldn’t get out, but there had to be smoke detectors, it was law or something, wasn’t it? The alarm sounded, and I was high on victory, and then they shut off. I had tried again, they sounded, they went off. I was down to my last few matches.

  I heard the door open downstairs, and I flew out of the room and ran to the stairs. Maybe it was the firemen.

  A tall man, easily over six feet, with thick brown hair, wearing torn jeans, a hoodie and a leather jacket looked at me warily. The door was closed behind him.

  “Who are you?” I asked as I considered running back up the stairs.

  “Who am I?” His smile was unfriendly. “Who are you is what I want to know, and why are you trying to torch my building?” Slowly, I backed up the stairs, and he lost the smile as he narrowed his eyes. “You may as well come down. I can get into every room, and I know that you…can’t.”

  He did a quick check of the living area and kitchen, frowning when he saw the hole in the wall from the knife. He headed towards me, and then he was climbing the stairs. “I have no problem moving you,” he muttered as he paused his ascent. Turning, I hurried up the stairs, and he swept past me to get to the bedrooms. He stopped at mine, taking in the rumpled bed and the discarded matches.

  “Matches?” His glare was fierce, and I had a momentary lapse in judgment when I wished Raphe were here. “Fuck me. Get downstairs, I want answers.”

  When I refused to move, he pulled a phone out of his pocket. “I’m here, your guest is either a mute or just won’t speak.” He listened as he watched me, and he seemed to be getting more pissed off. “Fine!” he snapped as he hung up.

  The door buzzer went, and I leapt for the hall. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was half carried back into a bedroom that wasn’t mine. I was locked in another room, one that I hadn’t been granted access to. Pounding on the door did nothing. Trying to get the emergency services did nothing. Raphe was definitely going to kill me.

  Looking around, I realised I was in the master bedroom. Masculine wasn’t a strong enough word to describe it. As I sank onto the bed and waited, I tried to think who the new guy was. I stared out the window as I thought. He said his building. He was handsome, if you liked them pretty, and his casual clothing didn’t hide the fact he was wealt
hy. I noticed now from my time on the streets that wealthy people had an air about them, no matter how they dressed down, they all had that same level of contempt for those not on their level. Maybe I was being harsh, maybe he was just an architect who helped design this massive “ode to the penis” building.

  I snorted out a laugh as I rambled through my head, desperately trying not to think of Raphe’s reaction. He wouldn’t kill me in front of Hoodie, would he?

  A while later, the bedroom door opened, and I was almost too afraid to look up. I knew it was him as soon as the door opened, before he was even in the room. My eyes stayed glued to the floor until the black pants and shiny shoes were standing there in front of me. Slowly I looked up at him, past his black belt with the silver buckle, the same black button-down he seemed to own a million of, the sliver of golden skin at his throat from the top two buttons being open. The square jaw, the soft sensual lips, the nose that hadn’t once looked down at me, until finally I met the cold, so cold, arctic blue eyes.

  Fuck, he was absolutely livid. “Raphe,” I greeted.

  “Downstairs,” he ordered quietly.

  I nodded in resignation and stood slowly. There was no point arguing. He waited and then followed me down the stairs. I wasn’t sure if I was happy it was finally going to come to an end or sad that I had rushed his hand.

  Hoodie was still here, on the couch, looking relaxed. I really didn’t want a witness. What if I begged at the last minute and he was there to see my shame? I didn’t think I minded Raphe seeing me break, but this stranger? I didn’t want him to witness any weakness.

  “This is the owner of the penthouse,” Raphe said behind me. His hand on the small of my back, propelling me forward, made me start slightly. “You owe him an explanation.”

  “How did you stop the alarms?” I asked instead. I watched his dark eyes slide past me to Raphe with barely concealed amusement.

  “I can override the whole system from my phone.”

  I nodded slightly. “Clever.”

  “I like to think so.” He watched me carefully, his eyes continually flicking between myself and Raphe. “Why did you try to set it on fire?”

  “I needed out.”

  “I’m not sure...” He hesitated as he continued to watch us both. “But I don’t believe that’s the best option for you?”

  I heard Raphe huff in agreement, and I shrugged. “I’ve been in here for too long.”

  He stood fluidly, and I stepped back, even though he wasn’t near me. I felt the hardness of the man I stepped back into and almost whimpered at the heat I could feel coming off him.

  “System’s fine. I raised the levels so it won’t happen again,” the guy said to Raphe. “This is”—he paused as he considered us both—“unusual for you. I’ll leave you to it.” With a final look at me, he left.

  He left.

  Just walked out with no further questions. No backward glance. I watched the door close firmly behind him and was all too conscious of the man standing behind me. Neither of us spoke, and I dared not move, even though I was so aware of him standing so close.

  Finally, he moved back, and I almost slumped with defeat. “Your hair is too long.”

  I blinked. I blinked again. What? “My hair?”

  “It needs cut, not much, but it’s dead at the ends.” Raphe walked around me and took off his gun as he sat down and looked at me.

  “Um,” I floundered. I had no idea what to say to that. “Okay.”

  “You were incredibly stupid.”

  There it is. “Was I?” Carefully, I made my way to the other side of the couch and sat. “I was more pissed off it took me four days to find them.”

  Raphe huffed in agreement as he turned his body so he could look at me. “I left them there the very first night, which tells me you were fine here.”

  “You left them? There?” It was my turn to be furious. “On purpose?” That pissed me off even more when he gave an answering nod.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why the fuck are you so angry at me for using them?” I jumped to my feet as I glared at him. “Why give me the means to escape, if you don’t want me to escape?”

  “A test. You almost passed.”

  I stared at him. I had no words. Not one. Oh no wait, I had one. “Asshole.”

  He grinned.

  “Fucking asshole,” I screeched at him. “Why are you dragging this out, just kill me already!”

  He lost the grin, and his look became serious. “Stop wishing for death, Devon.”

  “I’m not wishing for death, I just want out of this fucking cell.” I stormed angrily over to the huge window and stared out over Congress Park as I wrapped my arms around myself. “I want out. Look at the trees, the grass, the people, I need fresh air! You’re killing me in here.”

  The silence was loud. I wondered if he had gone when I then heard the metallic noise. Suddenly my hair was grabbed, and then I felt the cut. I looked down in astonishment as my hair fell around my feet.

  “Stay still,” Raphe murmured. I couldn’t have moved if he paid me. I was frozen in shock and, if I was honest, terror. I heard the scissors and felt him pull at my hair, and then he was stepping back. “Better.”

  Numb, I pulled my hair over my shoulder. It stopped shorter than it had, but it was still long. Turning slowly, I took in the hair on the floor. He had taken about five inches off my hair. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You needed your hair cut. It was annoying you.” He walked back to the kitchen and rinsed the scissors. “This place is a mess, it needs to be cleaned. You’ll do laundry and cleaning. I’ll leave four doors open. There are no other matches. I suggest you practice with the knives if you want to try to kill me. Don’t forget about the heat sensor though, or else you’re stuck in here.” He turned to look at me. His eyes ran over me quickly. “Groceries will be here later today. If you start with cleaning that up”—he gestured to my hair on the floor—“you can start the laundry next.” He waited a moment, my silence not bothering him in the slightest. “I’ll be in the den.”

  Raphe walked out of the kitchen and down the small hall to the den. I felt like my mouth should have been hanging open. As my fingers pressed into my cheeks and over my lips to check, I questioned why my mouth wasn’t hanging open. Running up the stairs quickly, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at my hair. Quickly I brushed it out, turning this way and that to see it better. Was it wrong that it felt better having it cut? Was it wrong to like it? Was it insane not to feel totally violated? I mean, you just didn’t randomly walk around cutting off women’s hair.

  My fingers ran through my hair as I looked at it, so he hardly scalped me, but still, now that the shock was over, it looked…good. Son of a bitch. My eyes narrowed. Where had the anger from earlier gone? Was this his outlet? Chop off my hair and tell me to clean. I was hardly Cinder-fucking-ella. With a fury unknown to me, I marched myself down the stairs and to the den.

  He sat, expectantly. One eyebrow raised. Waiting.

  “You had no right!”

  Nothing.

  “No right at all!”

  Not even a blink.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded.

  His phone rang, and he raised one finger to silence me as he answered it. “Yeah.”

  “Help! I’m being held—”

  I didn’t know men of his height and strength could move with such speed, but I knew it when I was jerked forward and he pulled me into his chest, his hand covering my mouth as he listened on the phone. Somehow, I was turned with my back to his chest, his arm wrapping around my neck, his hand maintaining its hold. My hands came up, fingers digging into his forearm as I struggled in vain to free myself.

  “No, I agree,” he told the person on the call. “I’ll call you back.”

  I instantly stilled when I heard him toss the phone and felt his breath against my ear. “Why do you continue to test me, Devon?” he asked me softly. His hand flexed against my
mouth once, and then he dropped it to curl loosely around my neck, tilting my head slightly back onto his shoulder.

  “Let me go,” I said as I once again tried to get out of his hold.

  “You fight too much.” Raphe’s voice was quiet as his other arm came around my waist, and he pulled me tight back into him. I had thought I was fitted against him already. Seems I was wrong, as my body was acutely aware of the hard muscles I was pressed against.

  “You told me I didn’t fight enough,” I replied. Why the hell did I sound all gaspy and throaty? Because he just had his hand over your mouth! Sure, that was it.

  His soft chuckle made me shiver, and the horrifying thought that I was attracted to this man scared me more than he ever had. “You have to stop fighting me,” Raphe said, and I wondered if he knew he was running his thumb gently up and down my throat.

  “But you’re the only enemy I have,” I whispered as my eyes closed against his touch, against his closeness. I was surrounded by him, and I did not like how my body was reacting to him or the path my mind was drifting down.

  “Am I?” he asked me, his voice still low, still husky. I jerked slightly when his lips touched my ear, his hand on my throat still holding me immobile, but not painfully so. “You don’t stay on the streets if you aren’t running from something…someone. Tell me, who are you running from, Devon?” I felt his head dip closer, his nose skimmed along my neck, and I hated myself for reacting to him like this. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “No one,” I lied as I wet my lips. My breath hitched with the slight tightening of his hold on my throat.

  “Liar.” The word was breathed in my ear as the hand that had been around my waist moved upward. “You hold too many secrets.” His breath was warm against my skin. “I’m going to know them all.”

  Jesus Christ, what the hell was he doing to me? I needed away from him before I made a fool of myself. Raphe must have sensed my panic, because suddenly I was turned, and he held my jaw again as he tipped my head to meet his gaze. Cold hard chips of ice stared back at me, and whatever lowering of my inhibitions had begun were quickly fortified.