No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

by Morgan Kelley

  He slapped her on the ass.

  “I had better be the ONLY cop beneath you.”

  She slid him home, both of them moaning.

  “Always, Riley, always.”

  She rode him, hard.

  The entire time, he watched her pert breasts bounce in syncopation to the slide down his erection. Their breathing was strained, as Riley struggled to hold on.

  It wasn’t easy.

  He wanted to cum in the worst way.

  “Not yet,” she begged, fighting through the orgasm herself. It felt too good, and she wanted them to fall as one.

  Together.

  His hand landed on her ass again, and they both moaned in nothing but pleasure.

  “Come on, Riley,” she begged. “Knock me up,” she begged.

  Her words undid him.

  He couldn’t hold on any longer.

  That was his greatest hope. Riley wanted Delilah round with baby.

  His baby.

  Her begging to be pregnant was enough to end this ride. Riley was weak. When his balls couldn’t hold back the need, he came with a shout.

  She came too.

  They exploded together, his body emptying into hers in wave after wave of need.

  They stopped moving.

  The quiet came.

  They relaxed.

  Delilah was on his chest, stroking the spattering of hair there. Her breath was warm across his one nipple.

  “Well, my wife is a dirty girl.”

  She snorted.

  “I’m ovulating.”

  It took him a second.

  “I think I tricked you into knocking me up.”

  Riley found that funny.

  “I’m a total rube.”

  She snorted.

  “I want babies with you, Dee. I want to have that and more. I want to chase you around this pool when we’re old. I want the neigbors to think I’m hopped up on Viagra.”

  “Here-here.”

  He laughed.

  “You didn’t trick me into anything. I need a family with you.”

  She sighed in contentment.

  “Maybe it’ll be triplets.”

  She stared at him.

  “Bite your tongue, Riley.”

  “I’d rather bite something else. Maybe, since you’re ovulating…”

  Yeah, that worked for her.

  “Knock me up, Mr. Henderson.”

  Yeah, he really wanted to do just that.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Car

  On The Way Back

  To Vegas

  As Heath drove, and Greyson sat in the front of their absconded SUV, they tried to ignore the tension emanating from the backseat. It was all fun and games trying to save Poppy, but now that they had, the two had a great deal to workout.

  It wasn’t going to be a pleasure cruise.

  Dimitri was worked up about her leaving, and Poppy was silently staring out of the window. The tension coming from both of them was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  Yeah, this was going to be hard.

  Someone had to say something.

  Greyson was just about to break the very uncomfortable ice when Dimitri had finally had enough. It looked like they weren’t going to talk about this at home, but in the car with a trapped audience.

  Great.

  “Why did you run?” he asked her, hoping she’d have the decency to give him some answers.

  Poppy looked over, tears in her eyes. She wanted to go back and undo all of this. While the rape was horrible, she would survive that, but the distance between her and Dimitri…

  That seemed unbridgeable.

  There were so many things she wanted to tell him. Only, she couldn’t.

  Why?

  He’d kill Jeffrey Raye and ruin his life.

  “I had to leave.”

  That hung there.

  Only, Dimitri wasn’t buying that.

  Not one bit.

  In life, you had to make choices, and this one had been hers. She’d opted not to stay. There had to be a reason, and he didn’t think it was the rape. He would have protected her.

  Unless…

  “You hate me, don’t you?” he asked.

  Poppy was surprised.

  “Why would I hate you?” she asked.

  “Because I failed. He got to you and on my watch. I let the woman I love…,” he began, trying to get the words out. “I let him touch you. I deserve your hate.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Greyson and Heath tried to blend into the interior of the vehicle.

  It was vastly uncomfortable to be hearing any of this, and it had to be just as uncomfortable for Poppy and Dimitri.

  Jesus.

  “Drive faster,” Greyson whispered to Heath.

  The man did.

  “If I could go back and redo it,” Dimitri stated, “I would have kept you locked in Sky Villa. I am sorry, Poppy.”

  She knew he deserved to know that she didn’t hate him. How could she? He’d tried. In that hospital bed, she’d felt so threatened.

  On top of that, she was defiled. Truth be told, it wasn’t him. It was her. She was going to get him killed.

  She didn’t deserve him now.

  That was just one more part of all of this. She knew he’d never look at her the same.

  Ever.

  It wasn’t him.

  It.

  Was.

  Her.

  If she wanted to ease his pain, and his emotional torment, she had to be honest. She had a lot of time over the last three months to do plenty of soul-searching, and she supposed he did too.

  It was time for her to come clean to him.

  Well, as much as she could. Poppy couldn’t let him go after Jeffrey Raye and ruin his life.

  She gave him what she could.

  “One of the reasons I left is because what do I have to offer you now?” she asked. “I’m damaged. He broke me,” she whispered as she stared down at her own hands. “I’m not going to be able to be that Poppy anymore. This changed me, and I’m not that woman anymore.”

  He listened to her words.

  His heart broke.

  “I’m afraid all of the time, I feel like I’m the most sullied person on the planet, and I’m embarrassed. I was a cop. I should have known better.”

  Her words broke his heart.

  Hell!

  It broke all of their hearts.

  Poppy didn’t run to get away from Dimitri. She ran because she thought he couldn’t possibly love her after what happened. Clearly, she didn’t know the man.

  Gently, he reached over to touch her hand. While he was still battling that anger in him, he couldn’t browbeat the victim. He struggled to contain it, so Poppy could have a moment of peace. He’d deal with his demons later.

  He’d try.

  They had a lot to work on, and his fear that she’d keep running was front and center.

  Still, for her, Dimitri tried to ease her pain.

  “If anything, Poppy, it makes me want to love you more,” he admitted. “I already loved you with my whole heart, but now I want to find ways to give you more. I’ve been broken,” he admitted. “I’ve been where you are.”

  “I was raped, Dimitri.”

  It was time to give her something to help her through this. It was deeply personal, but if he wanted her to stay with him, Dimitri knew he had to give her all of him.

  While the anger simmered, he fought to be kind like Greyson had with him even after he’d hurt him. Dimitri was trying to learn from his mistakes and to keep Poppy in his life.

  “Years ago, after I found my sisters and took them from their abusive lives, I found solace with a wife—of sorts.”

  She listened.

  “You know this, but what you might not know since I don’t say it out loud—ever, is that when the KGB took me, I, too, was sexually assaulted. It wasn’t pretty. It was violent, and it made me who I am today.”

  She was hor
rified.

  She flipped her hand over so that they were holding hands together.

  Dimitri saw the chance that she would understand. He saw the look of sympathy in her eyes, and he hated that. It was exactly why he didn’t tell anyone. That pity upset him, but for her, he’d swallow it.

  What wouldn’t he do for Poppy?

  “Does that make me less lovable?” he asked her, pushing on to make some connection with her. “Does that make you love me less?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then why, Poppy, would I love you less because of something that wasn’t in your power to control or to stop?” he asked.

  Heath and Greyson were moved by the pain in the man’s life.

  How could you not be?

  It gave them one more look into his personal life that he didn’t share with everyone.

  “Dimitri,” Poppy said, the pain overwhelming her. Her heart ached for both of them.

  “Well?” he asked.

  How did she answer that?

  Truthfully, she didn’t feel worthy of him. She didn’t feel worthy of anyone at that point.

  Her lack of an answer frustrated him more than anything else ever had, and he’d raised teenage girls.

  His life was black or white.

  Right or wrong.

  Good or bad.

  Now he was struggling to get deep enough through her fear that she wouldn’t run again. His heart couldn’t take it. Honestly, he couldn’t take it.

  Period.

  Still, he fought those demons to buy her time.

  But at what cost?

  When she still didn’t answer him, Dimitri struggled to keep his voice neutral. Maybe how she felt about him wasn’t the same. That fear filled him.

  He needed time to think through all of this.

  “I tell you what. Don’t answer it. If you can’t, there’s a reason why. Take your time and work it out in your head. In the meantime, I’ll keep you safe.”

  It was the only thing he could offer her, and he knew it was going to destroy him from the inside out. He would fester with that anger and fear until he reached her. In his heart, Dimitri knew Poppy was the one.

  How did he heal her enough so she saw the same thing?

  Lifting his arm, he offered her someone to lean on—since it was all he could really do.

  She didn’t hesitate.

  Instead, Poppy moved closer to him, and he knew it was the first step. It was something.

  Dimitri would take what he could at this point.

  “Thank you, Dimitri.”

  “Rest,” he said, trying desperately to keep his face neutral when he was feeling anything but. His chest hurt from the bullet to his body armor, and his heart beneath his flesh ached too.

  She’d run.

  He knew it.

  They always ran, and he was beyond exhausted.

  Poppy needed to close her eyes and shutdown for the rest of the trip. She could hide in sleep and avoid talking about what had happened.

  Unbuckling her seatbelt, she laid her head on his lap, and he ran his fingers through her hair.

  “It will be okay,” Dimitri stated, trying to offer her as much reassurance as he could.

  His voice was devoid of emotion, and his Russian accent. It told her everything she needed to know.

  This wasn’t done.

  Not by a long shot.

  Poppy made the vow to try—for him.

  “Please don’t let him kill me,” she said, noticing it was something she’d said before, “or let him rape me,” she added, covering her bases.

  His heart ached.

  That she’d even had to add that proved how badly this whole thing had been fucked up, and how badly he’d dropped the ball.

  And Poppy’s heart.

  Dimitri didn’t know if he could fix this.

  What was festering in him—that anger—was something that once it was let out, it would taint their lives.

  He’d seen it happen.

  He’d watched it happen.

  Dimitri knew himself, and he knew what he would be like from here on out. Saving Poppy was good, but it didn’t play out like he’d hoped.

  He’d pictured her running to him, and now, the opposite felt true. He could see her running away.

  Again.

  And that would kill him.

  “I promise no one will hurt you like that again,” Dimitri vowed, and this time, he’d die to keep his promise.

  It was a start.

  It was the only thing he could do.

  For her.

  For him.

  And if he wanted to keep her in his life.

  Forever.

  Chapter Five

  Sky Villa

  Late Monday Night

  W ith no word from Greyson, Dimitri, or Heath, Chris had to assume they were still working on getting Poppy out of the bad situation. In this case, no news was good news. On the home front, the same was true.

  The penthouse was quiet as he and Emma returned there after her nap at the hotel. Now, they were continuing the research on Zachary Lipton. It had been a few hours, and the only thing that was crystal clear was that she was getting sleepy.

  It looked like their day was done.

  While Emma would like to think she could keep going, the opposite was true. She was about to hit a wall. It wouldn’t be right to keep her up-all-night working. Steele had warned him to make her rest, and he was going to continually do just that.

  It was time to call it quits.

  They had done research, and they were going to jump in with both feet in the morning—well, him, so there was no point putting off the inevitable.

  So, as she started drifting again, he nudged her.

  “Come on, sleepyhead. You have a baby to keep growing—although I don’t know where the hell you’ll put him. You’re like one of those Russian nesting dolls. I think he’s almost as big as you.”

  She snorted.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Then, Emma yawned.

  “Let’s go to bed. I’ll tuck you in.”

  Emma was worried.

  “Did he text or call?” she asked.

  “No, honey, because he’s likely on a mountain, or if he’s off of it, they won’t want to come up if anyone is tracking their GPS. He told me radio silence unless it went to shit.”

  She got it.

  It didn’t mean Emma liked it. In fact, she really hated not knowing if they were okay. The three men were part of her, and she couldn’t picture life without any of them.

  Yes, even Heath.

  He’d endeared himself to her.

  Chris pulled her to her feet, and he made a grunting noise to bust her ass.

  “I swear to God, I’ll shave you bald in your sleep if you make one more fat comment.”

  He snorted.

  “You’re mean when you’re waddle-y.”

  Yeah, she was aware.

  This pregnancy was wearing thin on her patience. It was all fun and games when they were thinking about baby names or the color of a nursery, but now?

  It was hard.

  When she sneezed, she peed.

  When she tried to get up, she couldn’t.

  Sleep was on Mac’s terms.

  Yeah, this pregnancy needed to be over, and soon. Emma was done with it.

  In her room, Chris waited as she got into her sleep attire in the bathroom. After she brushed her teeth, she crawled across the bed to find her spot.

  “I can’t wait until I can sleep on my stomach again,” she offered.

  He laughed.

  “What?”

  “I pictured you doing it now. It was funny. Your ass end was up in the air, and your legs were going like you were stuck in a hole—head first.”

  Yeah, that about summed it up.

  She rolled her eyes as she tried to get comfortable in hers and Greyson’s bed. When she found a position that didn’t suck, she settled in.

  Gently, Chris tucked her in.

>   “Is it too cool in here?” he asked. “We don’t need a baby frozen in an ice brick.”

  That was a funny visual too.

  “No, I’m good.”

  He shut off the light and went to leave.

  “I’ll be in the living room. Shout if you need me or get stuck.”

  Emma stopped him.

  “Can you stay?” she asked. “I’m worried about Greyson. Talk me down.”

  He got it.

  They all knew what he was going to have to do, and both of them knew how much he disliked killing.

  It wasn’t going to be his first choice since at one time it had been his only choice.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Chris stated, as he watched her rub her belly. Then he needed to know. “What’s it like?” he asked, pointing at her child.

  “Which part?” she asked. “Carrying Mac around or the whole pregnancy thing?”

  He thought about it.

  “All of it,” Chris answered. “Does it feel different being a parent?” he asked.

  “I guess,” she said. “At the beginning, it was hard to imagine, but now that he’s bigger, and I can feel him, it seems more real. I’m growing a baby.”

  “Uh, from the size, I’d say a toddler.”

  She laughed.

  “Have you seen the size of my husband? Why are you surprised?”

  Yeah, she had a point.

  When Mac kicked, Emma smiled.

  “He’s moving. Want to feel?” she asked, pushing the blanket down.

  He kind of did.

  When he placed his big hand on her belly, she was sure he was going to make a fat joke. Instead, when she looked up, there were tears in his eyes.

  Jesus!

  Chris was crying.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. “Are you okay?”

  Was he?

  No.

  Because it was Emma, he could let his guard down and be honest. She was his best friend, and he loved her. So, he went with what was weighing on him.

  All the fat jokes.

  All the teasing.

  It hid his pain.

  “I just thought that by this time in my mid-forties, I’d have a child and a wife. I wanted kids when I was married to Denise, but she couldn’t have them—or so she said. For all I know, that was a lie too.”