by Lea Griffith
Gallo took a step toward Ruthie. From the corner of Tobias’s eye he saw Hoenig untying her and his heart stopped beating so frantically. Instead, it settled into a cold, calmer rhythm. Tobias took a deep breath, inhaling salt water and rusted metal. The sounds of the seaport outside were there—the creaking of docked boats, the occasional blast of a horn, and the gulls that never seemed to sleep screaming in the night sky.
Gallo turned his head then, watching as Hoenig picked Ruthie up and carried her away. He clapped again and pulled his knife out, cleaning his nails with it. “I got blood under my nails. Pity that.”
Tobias stilled, willing the rage to abate. Once he had it under control he cocked his head and simply stared at Gallo, waiting for the dénouement.
“Acciai has grown weak, leaving the port in the hands of his American by-blow. That port was my family’s long before it was his and he took it from us. It was my sacred duty to embarrass him. My sacred duty to set my entire family up by profits I’ve stolen from the Axe Man. I’ve grown fat from the excess, Dante. It’s true, I’ve loved every minute of stealing from and disgracing your grandfather.”
“You should watch your mouth, Gallo. It could be quick or it could be drawn out. Now why don’t you tell us why all the fanfare. It seems a bit dramatic to have us rush down here after you planned so carefully, and then you let us take her so easily. What’s up your wily sleeve?” Dante asked, patience in his tone, hatred on his face.
“It was never about the puttana. It was about you. She was merely a tool. Oh, make no mistake, I’ve always wanted to finish the American. He was important to you and therefore it became a priority to hurt him. He got away, which angered me, but you have always been the target, Dante. I want to hurt Acciai where it counts…right in his heart,” Gallo proclaimed.
“And how are you going to do that, Gallo? I believe you are now outnumbered and outgunned,” Dante reminded him.
“Not entirely,” Gallo said softly.
It was then that Tobias saw another shadow and withdrew his gun and aimed. The shadow separated from the wall and had Dante’s neck under yet another knife before Tobias could blink.
It was Sol Dinapoli.
Goddamn, but the hits just kept on coming. Sol met Tobias’s gaze and it skated away. Something had been off about all of this. Sol was no exception.
“You didn’t expect that, did you?” Gallo guffawed, the sound ricocheting off the cargo holders and aluminum walls in strident notes.
“I anticipate anything, Gallo. Tell me one thing, before my good friend Sol slices my throat—where are the girls?” Dante inquired as if he were asking about the weather.
Sol grunted. “Where is the redhead?” he asked Gallo directly.
Tobias was beyond being surprised. All of these men had alternate agendas. All he wanted was for Ruthie to be safe and Gallo to be dead. He moved forward slowly, all of Gallo’s attention on Dante and Sol.
Jeremiah was behind Gallo now, Finch and Stanton pulling in also. They had the fucker surrounded. But something in Dante’s voice communicated desperation. It wasn’t much, just a slight discordant note.
“It doesn’t matter where the girls are, does it, Dante? After all, Dinapoli must kill you to find out the location of the one he’s been searching for, so you won’t be alive to know whether they made it or not. Your good friend Sol hasn’t been hiding his search very well and the price for his redhead keeps going up because of it. If Dinapoli wants her, she must be worth a lot, eh? Regardless, the girls, your cargo as you call them, don’t have much time left—oxygen is hard to come by in those boxcar shipping containers. You should probably start searching—oh, that’s right, you have a knife at your throat. Tsk, tsk, tsk, I said twenty-four hours. Maybe it was much less?”
Gallo thought he was smart. But he’d outplayed himself.
“What are you waiting for, Dinapoli? Do you want the redhead or not? Kill him!” Gallo bellowed.
Sol lifted his hands away from Dante, clapped him on the shoulder, and in a move so smooth, so practiced and perfect Tobias doubted he saw it, he threw his knife, nailing Vessi Gallo in the throat.
Shock widened Gallo’s black eyes as a look of betrayal crossed his feature.
Dante turned to Sol. “What the hell? He was going to tell you!”
“No he wasn’t. My only hope is that maybe he brought her here to taunt me,” Dinapoli said as he picked up a bolt cutter and began opening cargo containers.
Tobias walked to Gallo, kicked him to make sure he was dead, and simply stood there. Every horror he’d visited on Tobias and the woman he loved replayed in his mind. He could have lost her so easily. For the first time since he’d met Gallo he thanked God the man was insane. His fanatic need for melodrama had probably kept Ruthie alive.
He watched as the last containers were opened. It wasn’t until they reached the final one that he heard Dante say, “They’re here!”
Tobias ran to where Dante and Dinapoli stood, staring into the bowels of the large shipping boxcar. The lights of the warehouse popped on, illuminating the interior.
Inside were approximately twenty women, all in various stages of health. Some gaunt, some healthy, but all haunted. Their eyes were hollow, as if the life had been sucked out of them. They huddled together, finding comfort in numbers.
“We won’t hurt you,” Dante called out. “We’re here to get you home.”
None of the women moved.
“Dio è con te,” Sol said softly. God is with you.
They stood as one, and Tobias saw Sol searching through the faces.
Sol looked at Dante. “She’s not here.”
Dante clapped him on the back. “We’ll find her, mio amico.” Dante glanced at the women and opened his phone. He made a single call, saying only, “We need transport,” before he turned to Tobias. “Your woman is safe. We’ll talk next week, yeah?”
Tobias crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, we’ll definitely be talking.” Then he walked away from the containers, heading to the door of the warehouse and walking straight to the SUV Dante had used to drive them here.
He opened the back door, ignoring the other men and reaching in. He grabbed Ruthie, heard her sob before she buried her face in his neck, and held her so close nothing could ever take her from his arms.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, the pain spearing him again, vicious and unrelenting.
“I thought you had too,” she whispered with a watery laugh.
“I’m not letting you go, Ruthie. I can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t,” he told her, his cheeks wet and his throat locking around his words.
“Don’t let me go, Tobias. Whatever you do,” she said at his lips, “don’t let me go.”
Chapter 22
He hadn’t touched her in two weeks. Oh, he lay beside her every night, holding her close, but never did make a sexual move toward her.
And she was growing more and more frustrated. They’d somehow managed to survive the psychotic Vessi Gallo, but now they’d entered a brand-new fight. Ruthie was determined to win, but each time she tried to initiate a more intimate contact, he rebuffed her.
There was nothing like being held by Tobias, except making love with him. If she were honest with herself, she needed the affirmation. She felt his heart beat steady and firm beneath her ear every night, but she wanted to have it pound as he fucked her. She wanted his mouth on hers and his sweat joining hers as they rushed toward completion.
She also wanted his marks on her body. That need had become consuming. It was damn near all she could think about and she was growing more desperate by the day. Did he not want her anymore? She didn’t doubt he loved her, but maybe it had morphed into something else for him?
That would crush her, because every dream of forever she had was contained in Tobias. Only he could unlock her joy.
“You ready?” Daly asked from the elevator.
Ruthie had moved back into her apartment above The Underground. Tobias had requeste
d she do so, and though it had bothered her he came to her every night, so she hadn’t complained.
“I am,” Ruthie said with a smile.
“First the fitting, then I’ll drop you off at the studio. Tobias is still being a fanatic about security, so Stanton will meet us there,” Daly told her.
“You’ve told me a hundred times, Day. Getting a little excited, are you?” Ruthie teased.
“This getting-married business is so damn stressful. I’m afraid if I don’t repeat stuff, I’ll forget something important. I can’t have my one and only maid of honor walking down the aisle naked,” Daly teased.
“Maybe that’d get me the reaction I want,” Ruthie said under her breath.
Daly heard her and Ruthie silently cursed. Daly had hearing as good as hers. Damn it.
“You’ve got to give him time, Ruthie. He had the scare of his life—hell, I see him staring off out the window every time I go by the office to see Jeremiah. The boy is still recovering.”
“Maybe you’re right. Or maybe he just doesn’t want me that way anymore,” Ruthie mused.
“Nope. He still wants you,” Daly replied mysteriously. “Listen, just trust me when I say it’s going to be fine. Give him some time and it’ll be what you want it to be. Or maybe even better than what you imagined.”
“Nothing like a good cryptic statement to get me in the mood to dress shop,” Ruthie said on an exhale.
“I’ve already picked the dress. It’s a fitting. Now let’s go—we’re running late.”
—
Three hours later, Ruthie was sitting in her studio, painting a portrait. It was Sol’s mystery lady. Her mind floated back to the events of two weeks ago. She’d learned way more about human trafficking than her heart could handle. Her rage at the plight of men, women, and children everywhere was enormous. And Sol Dinapoli’s lost woman held her mind.
Ruthie had spent most of the last two weeks in her studio painting the woman over and over, driven by some need to give Sol as many pictures as she could of the woman who’d stolen his heart two years earlier.
He and Dante were doing something very dangerous, but very heroic. Sol’s intent was to find the woman Vessi Gallo had stolen that day on the street in Naples. The auburn-haired woman with the jade-green cat eyes and the stubborn chin. Each picture she painted she set aside. If Sol every showed up again, she’d give him every one of the paintings. Ruthie painted her with every expression she could picture—smiling, laughing, crying, angry.
She hoped he showed soon with the news that he’d found her. Maybe then the woman would stop plaguing Ruthie.
Dante Shaw was embroiled in some very heavy stuff, but he’d wormed a special place in Ruthie’s heart. Doing good things wouldn’t make him a good man—he had too much baggage to ever be that—but it made him a better person, and that was enough for Ruthie. According to Daly, Dante had his hands full with good ol’ Savannah Cavanaugh. Ruthie had grimaced in sympathy. Daly had laughed in joy. “Like deserves like,” Daly said. She still didn’t care for Dante too much.
As she set the finished portrait aside, she heard a knock on her studio door. “Come in,” she called as she leaned over to clean her brushes and put her paints away.
“You didn’t even ask who it was,” her brother admonished.
“Stanton wouldn’t let just anybody up here,” she chided right back. “I swear, between you and Tobias I feel like a damn baby.”
Jeremiah walked over and hugged her, kissing the top of her head the way he always had. She loved her brother with all of her heart, but she really didn’t want to talk to him right now. Ruthie wanted Tobias.
“I swear, between you and Tobias I feel like a damn counselor,” Jeremiah shot right back.
Ruthie stiffened, anger curling through her. “I don’t ask for your advice, big brother. You give shitty advice. Please tell me Tobias hasn’t asked you for it?”
“I give amazing advice and that’s why I’m here. Put your hackles down, woman,” he demanded with a laugh. “I’m sick of seeing him mope, so I came over here to light a fire under you.”
“It isn’t me you need to light the fire under,” she muttered.
“Oh, I think that’s just who I need to light it under. Tobias, you see, is even more stubborn than you.”
She threw her hands in the air and went back to cleaning her brushes. “Seriously, Jeremiah? Like I don’t already know that?”
Jeremiah chuckled. She heard him sit down, and she lifted her face to the sun streaming through the windows. In spite of the attack by Gallo, this space had become a second home to Ruthie. When the sun warmed her, she knew she’d made the right decision moving home.
“You want him, Ruthie?”
Ruthie snorted. “Never been any doubt, right? I think my famous words at the age of nine were, ‘I’m marrying him, Jeremiah. Get him for me.’ I’ve never wanted anyone but Tobias,” she snapped.
“Then it’s really very simple,” Jeremiah said.
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
“You won’t get him unless you make him get you.”
“I’ve tried and tried. I came back for him, Jeremiah. Gave up my pride and pretty much begged for another chance. Hell, I walked into his scene and demanded he put his big Dom panties on and come get me.”
Jeremiah laughed. “I’d heard that.”
“So be specific. If there’s something I’m missing, don’t pussyfoot around about it—for God’s sake, tell me!”
“Show him you won’t break. Show him you trust him enough to take you both where you not only want to go, but need to go. He doesn’t trust himself anymore, Ruthie. He feels you getting hurt, not once but twice, is his fault. That somehow he should have controlled Gallo,” Jeremiah told her.
“That’s insanity!” Ruthie exclaimed.
“That it may be, but we’re men, so a little insanity is to be expected.”
“Any suggestions?” she asked.
“I’ve already told you to make him get you. And if you need anything else, you’ll have to ask Daly. The thought of you and Tobias playing in a scene makes me want to bleach my brain. You’ll always be my little sister and the thought of…Yeah, I can’t do it. So if you need suggestions, go to a woman.”
She walked to Jeremiah. He stood and she practically tackled him.
He kissed her again on the top of her head. “He loves you, little sister. And you love him. It’ll all work out.”
She walked downstairs with Jeremiah, her painting done for the day, and got into the car.
“Oh,” Jeremiah said before Stanton shut the door. “What are you planning on doing with the rest of this property?”
“I’m not sure, why?”
“Let’s get together next week and talk about it. Dante needs a place to reacclimate some of the women he’s found. This place is kind of hiding in plain sight.”
The thought of helping those women had joy bursting through Ruthie. “It would be perfect! Screw next week—let’s meet tomorrow,” she said.
He laughed and simply said, “We’ll see.”
Stanton drove her to her apartment. The entire ride Ruthie was a mass of nerves and anticipation. She had an idea forming but would need some help seeing it through. Jeremiah had told her to get suggestions from Daly, but when he’d said it her mind had immediately gone to the way Daly had forced her brother to listen to her.
Ruthie was going to borrow a page from Daly Edwards’s book. She was going to make her man claim her in every way.
It would be a tough task. Tobias was stubborn as hell. But she felt his love.
Now she wanted to feel his lust.
Chapter 23
“I feel like we’ve done this before,” Candace said with a laugh.
Ruthie smiled and turned in a circle as the elevator dinged off the passing floors. Tonight was the night. She was going to make Tobias play her. She was going to submit and he was going to dominate.
She bit her lip. She hoped that
was how it would go.
“Oh, no second thoughts now,” Daly chimed in with a laugh of her own. “You look hotter than hell in that getup and he’s going to lose his mind when he finds out you aren’t wearing panties. I never realized my brother was such a kinky bastard.”
“It runs in the family, eh?” Ruthie reminded her.
Candace snickered.
“Bite me,” Daly said with mock ferociousness.
“Like I said…runs in the family,” Ruthie said again.
“Okay,” Candace said as the elevator came to a stop. She hit the emergency stop. “He’s out there with Finch, drinking at the bar. It took every bit of Finch’s powers of persuasion, which are mighty if I do say so myself, to get him here. Finch snuck Tobias’s bag out of his house yesterday and oh, he says you owe him.”
Ruthie laughed, delight and anxiety making her damn near giddy.
“The entire club will clear once the music starts and the music starts once we open the doors. The St. Andrew’s Cross is on the stage and we’ll walk there, I’ll tie to you it, and then I’ll start. I’ll be gentle, Ruthie. I’m not a Dom in any way, shape, form, or fashion. Daly will make sure everyone clears out because our Toby isn’t quite ready to share you with everybody. Damn, I can’t wait to see you two scene—I bet it’s hotter than anything I’ll ever witness.”
Ruthie shivered. The time was here.
“Thanks you two. Without you I’d be lost,” Ruthie said.
“Love you,” Daly said.
“Love you, doll baby,” Candace parroted.
They each took a hand.
“You really do look hot as fuck, by the way,” Daly whispered.
“Daly, your language is atrocious,” Candace said with a laugh.
“But it’s the truth.”
Ruthie smiled and took a deep breath. She was wearing a black, boned corset with red piping around the sweetheart neckline, which dipped to her navel. She’s paired it with a long, red leather skirt and red, sky-high heels. No panties, no hose.