Connelly Crime Family Trilogy

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Connelly Crime Family Trilogy Page 49

by Winters, KB


  I knocked on the door and waited, giving her time to open up. Like an adult. She didn’t, of course, forcing me to use the key that we’d just kept in the keyhole for that exact purpose.

  “Patrick wants you downstairs,” I said as I walked into the room. I prepared myself for another outburst, a long tirade of my shortcomings and how she knew a dozen guys just like me and thought we were all pieces of shit.

  Instead she shoulder-checked me on her way out of the room, hurrying down the stairs like she had an appointment she couldn’t miss. She stormed into the dining room like she owned it and stood in the doorway giving everyone the evil eye. Arms crossed, Margo glared at me when I slipped past her and took my seat at the table.

  “You beckoned?” She tossed her question at Patrick like the words were made of hot chili peppers in her mouth and she couldn’t spit the words out fast enough or with enough disdain.

  The room fell silent as Patrick’s steely gaze landed on Margo, sizing her up. “I’ve decided that you can be trusted and to celebrate you’ll eat with us.”

  In his world things really were just that simple. Because he always called the shots.

  In Margo’s world, no fucking way. “Well I have determined that none of you can be trusted so I’ll pass on your generous offer of sandwiches.” Without another word she turned on her heels and marched down the hall.

  We all waited for Patrick to snap, to order one of us to drag her back by her wild, red hair, to toss her out on her pretty little ass. Instead he watched the empty spot she’d vacated and then he laughed. He laughed so hard his eyes began to water and he started coughing.

  “Damn that girl is a firecracker,” he spit out.

  If I wasn’t mistaken there was a hint of respect in his tone for her.

  I stood like the dutiful nephew. “I’ll go talk to her.”

  Patrick gave me a studious look before he grinned. “Go ahead,” he nodded his approval. “Just don’t pretend it has anything to do with me.”

  Before I could tell him just how wrong he was, my traitorous cousins laughed.

  Fucking pricks.

  Chapter Twenty - Six

  Margo

  The nerve of that old man, thinking that he could toss out a word like trust, and I would simply fall to my feet in gratitude and join the family for a shitty cold lunch. After not eating for days, when I broke this fucking fast, it would be for something hot and juicy like a steak. With cheesy mashed potatoes and buttery asparagus. And rolls, lots of flaky buttery rolls. Yeah, that sounded like the perfect meal when—or if—my life ever returned to its regular, normal, boring schedule.

  “You don’t make anything easy do you?”

  I heard Rourke follow me out of the dining room and not because I had supersonic hearing or some hidden ninja skillset. Nope, I got lost in my search for fresh air, and I had to double back just when he made the gracious offer to follow me.

  “Let’s just pretend we talked about whatever you think you need to say and then you can go back and score points with your uncle.” He didn’t give a damn about me and the more I reminded us both of that fact, the more I wouldn’t forget it.

  He sighed and moved forward. My body was so tuned to his that my skin tingled with every step forward, his proximity had some kind of magnetic pull on me that was impossible to ignore. “Is it so hard to believe I came out here to check on you?”

  “Hard? No. More like impossible.” He stepped up beside me, arms crossed just like mine. But I couldn’t see what he was focused on because my gaze was on the property ahead of me. Vast and lush in the fading sunlight, I saw colorful flowers planted in what was probably stunning designs. Farther out though, was darkness and that was what piqued my curiosity.

  “We were on our way to becoming friends locked up in those warehouses.”

  “No, we weren’t,” she insisted. “You were never honest with me, which means that was all fake. A scam.”

  The only real interaction had been the sex, which was just fine by me, since it was the only thing worth remembering. “I don’t need you to pretend to be anything else, Rourke. Just go back to your family.”

  Just like all of my cousins, my father and all the other hangers on, Family with a capital ‘F’ was all that mattered to him.

  “My Uncle Patrick is trying, Margo. You might wanna try too.”

  “Give me a fucking break, dude. You weren’t trying to be so cooperative back when it was Daniel Milano holding you against your will. In fact, I recall you getting your ass beat just to find an exit.”

  “The only difference—”

  “Is that now you expect me to trust my fucking kidnapper? Not gonna happen. You are no different than he is.” I turned to look at him, which was a big mistake but I was stubborn and determined.

  “If your uncle isn’t planning to let me go, then I don’t give a damn. No pretend acts of kindness will change the fact that I’m here against my will.”

  “So you’ll just make everyone who tries to help you miserable?”

  “Fuck yeah. Why should I care about you or your family and their happiness? All of you, even the girls you send up to wait on me know I’m here against my will and you think food, a bath and a few fucking smiles is going to change that? You should all pray you’re never in my position.”

  I hoped, as evil as it was, that one of their women would get kidnapped so they would understand what I was going through. I wasn’t a bitch out of spite; it was purely out of self-preservation.

  “You have to let someone help you,” Rourke protested.

  “Last time I did, he kidnapped me. So fuck that. I’m on my own and I’m fine with that, but even better, I know who I can count on.”

  And that list started and ended with me.

  Rourke let out a sigh of frustration and came up to me, invading my space. “You ever think that things wouldn’t be so bad if you were more cooperative?”

  “Fuck you, Rourke.” I turned away and went back inside. “If you want me to be cooperative, let me go, and if you can’t do that, leave me alone!”

  I should have known not to turn my back on him, but in my eagerness to be anywhere Rourke wasn’t, I wasn’t thinking straight. Not until his hand circled my wrist and yanked me against his chest. And he smelled so fucking good.

  And felt even better.

  “Fine. You act like a fucking human being and eat meals with us, dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow. Do that and I’ll get you out of here myself.”

  It was a good deal, if I could trust the person I was making a deal with, and I couldn’t. “Sounds great, except you’re a fucking liar. No deal. I’ll find my own way out. If your uncle trusts me then I can roam the property without a chaperone and find my own way to freedom.”

  “If you want my hands on you Margo, just ask.”

  The bastard wore a smug grin that I wanted to smack and I would have, if my body wasn’t being a traitorous little slut, practically purring at his touch.

  “I’ll just carry you to each meal until this all ends.”

  “You mean you’ll try.”

  “Don’t test me, Margo.” He looked delicious with his chest all puffed out and towering over me, but I was a rare woman who could separate sex from stupid emotions.

  “You don’t scare me, Rourke. Go find someone else to work out your daddy issues on, I’m not interested.”

  “You don’t know shit about me,” he barked.

  “Yeah, because you’re so fucking original.” I spat out. “You know what? I don’t care. If you can’t see you’re spewing daddy issues all over the house, then you’re just as fucked up as both of those old men and their psychopathic sons, which is something I don’t have time for.”

  If the air could have frozen between us, it would have. Any lingering warmth Rourke might have been feeling for me vanished with my words. Ice filled his eyes as he took a step away from me.

  “Good to know. See you at dinner.”

  He wouldn’t, but there was no point in w
asting my breath. No one in this place listened to me anyway so I needed to focus on one thing.

  Freedom.

  Chapter Twenty - Seven

  Rourke

  “We’re going for a walk.”

  It was a dick move to sneak into Margo’s room while she was doing whatever it was she did in there. Another day had passed and Patrick was getting concerned about her lack of eating.

  Big blue eyes stared up at me, angry and wary, and goddammit I hated that look. I preferred the defiant look.

  “Give me five minutes to get changed.”

  I blinked and opened my mouth to give her a list of reasons why she was going on the walk and why she shouldn’t test me.

  “You’re coming without giving me shit?” There had to be a catch. “Why?”

  “I’m tired of being cooped up in this place and going for a walk with you means I don’t have to pretend to keep up polite conversation.”

  “You wound me, sweetheart.” She rolled her eyes as I chuckled. “And you will engage in polite conversation with me.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  She took a step toward the door with her arms crossed, I guessed to make sure I didn’t grab her hand. But then she staggered and almost fell, and I had to rush forward to catch her. Three or four days of fasting will do that to a person. As soon as I had her steadied, and she took a few deep breaths, she righted herself. Going without food had taken its toll on her, but goddammit, she too stubborn to show it.

  “We don’t need to talk Rourke,” she said when she got her balance. “I’ve said what I have to say, and I don’t want to hear your lies.”

  That was fair, even though I hadn’t lied to her once. “Then let’s get to know each other.”

  I couldn’t deny that Margo intrigued me, which was new but the physical attraction wasn’t new and that was all I really wanted to explore. And yeah, the more I knew about her the easier it would be to get her to stay here. To play nice.

  “Is that a condition of this walk?” she spat out.

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll be out in a minute.” She motioned towards the door with her head, a clear sign she wanted me gone.

  “See you soon.” Just because I wouldn’t put a condition on the walk didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to get her to open up. “Leave the panties off.”

  “Out.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” I joked.

  Three minutes later she stormed out of the room and I had to widen my stride just to keep up with her. “What’s the hurry?”

  “This place is screwing with my life Rourke, that’s the hurry! I’ve been here for days plus the days before that without food, without working out, or checking in at the office. If I even have a job when this shit is over, I won’t even be able to do it properly!”

  Her strides were long and determined, and she didn’t let up once the sun hit her skin, her legs kept moving even as she turned her face to the sky, and a small smile turned the corners of her mouth up.

  “See it’s not so bad is it?” Her glare told me it was worse.

  “You have an unconventional job Rourke, which means you don’t need to clock in or out or call anyone in advance when you can’t make it to the office. You use a gun so you don’t have to be in shape or take care of your body. That’s why it doesn’t seem that bad to you. Also, it’s not your life that’s been totally fucked up.”

  She wasn’t wrong there, and I did feel bad about that. A little. “I didn’t even think about it like that.”

  “Why would you?” Her derisive snort told me exactly how she felt about my words. “It’s not your life.”

  “You’re right about that because you actually got to choose which life you got to live.” I loved my family and would be loyal to them until I took my last breath but the truth was, I wasn’t given a choice.

  “We all have a choice, Rourke. You think it wouldn’t have been easier to marry one of my dad’s henchmen and spend all day shopping and pampering myself? It would have also been boring as fuck, miserable, and dangerous. Choosing my own path got rid of the boredom and misery but thanks to dear old dad, I’m always in danger.”

  “That’s the life.” It wasn’t elegant, but it was the damn truth. This life meant never-ending danger for me and for everyone who ever meant anything to me, which is why Patrick always encouraged us to keep our circles small.

  “That’s your life,” she shot back quickly, raising a palm at me to stop my next words. “Yeah I know that’s the life for you and it spills over to people you care about, but that still doesn’t stop you. Believe me, I’ve heard the excuses.”

  “You came back to Rocket. Why?”

  Her laugh was bitter, and her gaze lingered on the dark distance beyond the gardens, seeing nothing but the past it seemed.

  “Sheer stupidity. My dad is getting old. I thought since he was the only family I’ve got left, I should be close and maybe try to mend our relationship. Dumb idea on my part.”

  “Why didn’t you live with him?” I couldn’t imagine a world where Patrick had daughters, but if he did, there was no way in hell they’d live on their own. Hell, Ma hadn’t been allowed to move out until she married my old man.

  “Because I’m a grown woman with a job. And I spent enough time surrounded by Dad and his work associates. You don’t live here, do you?”

  “No. But I’m a man.”

  Her pace slowed down, and her breathing came in gasps. Without fuel, this walk, at her rapid pace, was using up whatever energy she had.

  “Sexist bullshit. Seems to me that we both got kidnapped so please save me your chauvinism.”

  “Some might call it protective.”

  I snorted. “And some might call those people delusional.”

  She turned to me, poking her finger in my chest. “That’s your first mistake. I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me. I protect myself and I chose how, who and when I need protection. Not you. Not my father. And sure as hell not your shady uncle that I know fuck all about!”

  Frustrated, angry and exhausted, she turned away and marched through the path of trees and shrubs.

  It cost a small fucking fortune to keep the greens looking so vibrant, but Patrick liked what he liked. And he was the boss. “Wanting to protect someone is delusional?”

  “No, but thinking you know better about my safety than I do is delusional, presumptuous and a total dick move. What’s really delusional is me handing over my independence to someone like you.”

  I laughed. “Like me?”

  She nodded, defiant and not at all unapologetic. “Why would I trust you? More importantly, if you were in my exact position, would you trust me?”

  I exhaled. “I used to long for rational women, who made logical arguments. Decisions that made sense. You’ve cured me of that Margo.”

  She glared at me. “You’re welcome.”

  “No, I wouldn’t trust you. Given the circumstances.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” Her words were calm, almost serene as her gaze swept across the property. “What would you have done with your life if you’d been given a choice?”

  Her question shocked me and that made me suspicious. “Why?”

  “Because now that you understand why I can’t trust you, maybe you’ll stop trying to convince me of your trustworthiness. If so, there’s no reason we can’t engage in a little small talk. Right?”

  She had a point but there was a little devil in the back of my mind telling me not to listen. The change was too abrupt, and I didn’t believe it. But talking wouldn’t hurt.

  “I don’t know. There was a time when I thought I might like to be a forensic accountant, helping big ass corporations find out who was embezzling their cash.”

  It had been a stupid pipe dream that my uncle had no qualms about crushing.

  “Wow when you dream, you dream big.” She looked at me like maybe I wasn’t the complete piece of shit she thought I was, slightly impressed before she looked a
way.

  “Says the chick who’s almost a doctor.”

  “Almost,” she snorted and shook her head. “That ship has sailed and given the past week, I’ll probably end up slinging burgers at some roadside diner.”

  If it were any other woman I might have thought she was trying to get sympathy or manipulate me, but her tone was plain spoken, resigned. Like she’d already accepted that fate.

  “Things might work out, Margo.”

  She scoffed. “Please don’t tell me you’re an optimist.” She said it like it was a four-letter word.

  “So are you, the only difference is I’m not afraid to admit it. In my line of work you have to think shit will work out, mind over matter and all that.”

  “Me? I gave up optimism when I buried my mom.” Her words held a ring of truth that I hoped was bravado and not a lifetime of sadness. For her sake.

  “You save people’s lives for a living Margo, what could be more optimistic than that?” She could bullshit me on a lot of things but not this.

  “My job is mechanics, not optimism. I know whether I can save someone or if they’ll die no matter what I do. I also know there’s a small chance that even hopeless cases can end positively, so I do my job and keep them alive long enough for the real doctors to take over.”

  “I hear you, but it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.” Further proof that she was trying to run away from her demons.

  “I don’t need to convince myself of anything. I enjoy medicine and the science of healing people. If people get to live that’s awesome, but I know they all won’t. I do the best I can and I’m as okay with that as anyone could be.”

  Her sunken eyes seemed to brighten up with determination, the tough as nails chick I met in the warehouse showing signs of life.

  “And if you can’t work as a paramedic will you be satisfied slinging burgers at a roadside diner?”

  “Hell, no, but at least I’ll have a way to support myself.”

  There it was again, the damn independent streak she had that was so straight and unyielding it would be the death of her.

 

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