by Karen Rose
Oh. He abruptly halted midthought as understanding rushed to fill his mind. The horny little asshole. “You wanted one last taste of Mallory, didn’t you?”
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. I did. Sue me.”
Oh, I’ll do a lot more than that. “You risked everything for one last go at that little whore?” He got up in Mike’s face. “Are you fucking insane?”
“No,” Mike said, behind clenched teeth. “I’m quite sane. And my memory is better than decent. You promised her to me, but it was always your way. Your terms. Your leftovers. I’m fucking tired of taking your leftovers.”
He lifted his brows, hearing all the things Mike didn’t say aloud. Remembering the cash that hadn’t been found in Voss’s safe tonight. “What other leftovers have you taken, Uncle?” As his enforcers, Mike and Butch had collected the blackmail from the victims who’d paid with cash. He’d never stopped to count it, not in a long time. He’d trusted them. “I know you took cash out of Voss’s safe after you killed him.”
Mike’s chin lifted. “I earned it. I took the risk.”
“Did you also earn the money you’ve been skimming from your collections?” Mike’s tight jaw told him he’d guessed right. “Have you been forcing my girls to give you freebies?”
Mike sneered. “The girls are not yours. They’re ours. I can take what I want.”
He stared at Mike dispassionately. “Hope if you took what you wanted from Linnea that you used a condom. Turns out that she’s HIV positive.”
It was as if Mike’s sneer was ripped away by an invisible hand, his eyes widening in shock. “What?”
“Yep.” Anger churned in his gut, roared through his mind. Because he’d sent Linnea to many, many clients’ homes in the last six months. He didn’t know at what point she’d become infected, but he could potentially have dozens of infected clients out there. Eventually they’d be diagnosed and eventually there would be a health department investigation because so many corporate icons testing positive wasn’t a normal thing. Clients hired his girls because he guaranteed their health.
Because Mike told him they were clean.
He clenched his fists against the wave of fury that made him want to break every bone in Mike’s body. “And how did I not know that, Uncle? You were responsible for having them tested every two weeks. You showed me lab results. Did you not test them?”
“I did. I swear I did.” But Mike’s eyes shifted left. His tell.
He’d needed to come here, to confront this situation in person, because he’d needed to see that tell. Because he would have wanted to believe his uncle.
Because I fucking trusted him. Sonofabitch.
“You’re lying,” he said coldly. “Why? Why say you did the tests when you didn’t? What was worth that risk?”
Mike’s eyes glittered, but with hate now. Contempt. “Do you even know how much those tests cost?”
He stared for a moment, genuinely stunned. “What? This was about money?”
Mike snarled. “Everything’s about money, boy. Everything. Haven’t you been listening all these years?”
“Yeah, I have. And you got plenty of the money. What are you doing with it? Shooting it up your fucking veins?”
Mike’s flinch was all the answer he needed.
“You’ve been using the product? Are you that stupid?” He shook his head when Mike silently glared. “You are that stupid. You dumb fuck. I gave you so much. More than you ever deserved, but it was never enough. You’ve ruined us. Ruined everything.”
Mike closed his eyes and wearily shifted more of his weight against the brick wall. “I didn’t ruin anything, boy. At least not all by myself. You more than participated.”
His heart was beating fast in his chest. “I didn’t tap the product.”
“No, you tapped Mallory. You just couldn’t resist her, could you? All Mr. High-and-Mighty who wouldn’t touch his own girls got hung up on one who belonged to someone else. And then you left her alive. And then you dragged Linnea into it and that poor friend of hers, too. I told you to let me take care of Mallory, but no, you didn’t trust me. You had to do it yourself. You had to be the big man. And in the end, that’s what’s ruined us.”
He could barely hear over the rage pulsing in his head. “You have the nerve to say I should have trusted you? You lied to me. You stole from me. You have fucked up every job I’ve given you. Why the hell should I have trusted you? You’re fucking lucky you’ve got a life at all. You were a broken-down, sorry excuse for a man. A user. A failure. Everything you have is because of me.”
Mike lurched forward, shoving at him with his uninjured right hand. “You ungrateful little shit. I taught you everything you know.”
Yes, Mike had. He’d taught him to never suffer fools and that fuckups didn’t survive.
“I agree,” he said very quietly and Mike, finally reading his mood, took a wary step back. Not so stupid after all, are you, old man? “So you also must know that you are now a liability.” He slid his gun from his shoulder holster.
Mike’s good arm lifted as if to stave him off. “Wait. Don’t do thi—”
His uncle dropped to the ground, a single bullet centered in his forehead. The bullet, ironically, came from the very gun Mike had given him for his last birthday.
Goddammit. His legs folded right out from under him, dropping him on his ass. He sat on the concrete next to Mike’s body, his breathing fast and shallow.
He’d killed more men than he could remember over the years, but never had it felt like this. Not even his very first, when he’d killed the man with whom he actually had shared blood. Yes, he’d given Mike everything. But Mike had been more than an uncle and more than a business partner.
Mike had been the closest thing he’d ever had to a father. More so than the man who’d adopted him. And a helluva lot more than the man who’d been his real father. Sanctimonious, abusive, preachy SOB that he’d been.
The only good thing his real father had given him was the realization that punching a time clock in the pew every Sunday morning was the best way to hide his sins in plain sight. Mike had taught him almost everything else.
Now Mike was gone. Now it was done. All of it was done. His businesses, so carefully planned and executed . . . all gone. He’d eliminated all the girls that afternoon and the thought of building a new ring of college hookers? Not gonna happen because he couldn’t manage them or any of his other endeavors anymore, not without Mike and Butch.
Nor did he want to. They’d built it, together. The three of them.
At least Butch never stole from me. It was a small consolation. Too small.
He stared at Mike’s body, his emotions leveling. He shouldn’t have been so stunned to learn Mike was skimming. The man was a criminal, after all, and he had taught him a lot, but not nearly everything. Mike was a two-bit con man and would have never been more.
Not without me. For now, he had cleanup to do. He’d fully leveled, but he continued to sit on the cold asphalt, regarding Mike. Mike had needed to die, so killing him had been right, but he should have done it differently. The bullet was still in Mike’s goddamn head.
He made it a point not to leave bullets behind. He’d done so at Buon Cibo because he hadn’t had a choice. He hadn’t intended to kill Andy with a rifle. He’d intended to blow the poor bastard sky-high, along with Mallory and Meredith and anyone else unfortunate enough to have been in the blast zone.
He blinked hard, trying to focus on what needed to be done. Had he fired the gun anywhere that he would have left a bullet in the past? He didn’t think so. Mike had sworn that the gun was brand-new, never been fired. But Mike was a fucking liar, so who knew?
He let out a heavy sigh. I’m tired. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since . . . when? Thursday? He needed to get home. Rita would be wondering why he hadn’t called. He didn’t have the time or tool
s to bury Mike and he certainly didn’t want the guy’s blood—which the cops now had in copious quantities and were testing, for God’s sake—anywhere near his own SUV, so he wasn’t taking Mike’s body anywhere.
But he did not want him identified. Time to go old-school. He had some serious aggression to work through, anyway. He looked behind the strip mall for something that would serve his purposes and found a pile of bricks stacked against the wall. That’ll do.
Cincinnati, Ohio
Monday, December 21, 12:50 a.m.
It was quiet. Finally quiet. So quiet that Meredith was almost afraid to breathe as she rode up the elevator to the condo with Adam at her side.
Only Adam. Because they were finally alone.
His arm was around her waist and she leaned her head against his shoulder. And they said nothing, but somehow it wasn’t awkward at all.
“It’s lovely.” She’d murmured the words aloud without planning to do so.
“Mmm.” He nuzzled his cheek against her hair, the strands catching in his stubble. She liked his stubble. Always had. He reminded her of a pirate. “You are.”
She hummed softly, her cheeks warming at the praise. “I meant the quiet. It’s nice.”
“I know.”
And of course, now that she’d commented on the quiet, a million nervous words began fluttering in her throat. “I’m glad everyone is finally settled.”
“Mm-hm,” he said, sounding a little amused. “Snug as bugs.”
Isenberg had agreed it was a smarter use of resources to house Mallory and Wendi in the hotel room adjoining Shane and the Davises. That way they could increase the protection detail by only one special agent, who’d provide breaks to the other two currently guarding Shane and Kyle.
Parrish Colby would stay with Wendi, but as a civilian. He was technically on vacation, just as Kate had been all day. But knowing Parrish would be there to watch over Wendi and Mallory had left Meredith with one less worry.
She bit her lip. “It seems . . . decadent to have the condo all to ourselves.”
Adam had offered his friend’s condo to Shane and Mallory’s group, but moving them seemed more dangerous, especially knowing a cop might be somehow involved. Their location was secret. Other than those being protected and their guards, only Isenberg, Zimmerman, Adam, and Trip knew where they were. Moving them would require resources and planning and a bad cop in the mix jeopardized security. So they stayed put. For now.
“Safer here for you,” he murmured, “even without the protection detail. Besides, you deserve a little decadence.” His voice deepened to a soft growl that made her shiver.
But her mind would not still. Her grandfather and Kate had both been admitted to the hospital and Bailey had come to watch over them. An RN, Bailey had skills that Meredith did not have.
So now Meredith found herself with no one to take care of but herself. And Adam.
It was a heady sensation. It was what she’d wanted for more than a year. But . . . “Am I horrible to be relieved not to have to accompany Mallory to the safe house tonight?” she blurted out, realizing this was what she’d really needed to ask.
“No.” Adam kissed her temple. “What do they say on the plane? Make sure you put on your own oxygen mask before helping others? You needed not to be needed for just a little while. Let someone else take care of you. Let me take care of you.”
He tipped her chin up and took her lips in a kiss that started out chaste and sweet, but quickly became urgent and . . . She shivered. And deliciously carnal. Full of promise.
He abruptly ended the kiss, leaving her blinking at him dazedly until reality seeped through. The elevator doors had opened to the hall and Adam was instantly on alert, looking for threats. Thankfully there were none, because, dammit, he was right. They were due a little respite, decadent or no.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked as he unlocked the door and ushered her inside.
“Just thinking that we deserved the respite and then I heard Kate’s voice in my head, asking if that’s what we’re calling it these days.”
He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made her shiver again. “I hope I can make her voice go away.” He closed and locked the door behind them. “The only one I want you to hear for the next few hours is mine,” he said. “Stay here. I have to make sure we’re clear.”
She said nothing more, allowing him to do his job until he was satisfied the place was safe. He returned to the door where she waited and held out his hand. “Let’s use that tub for something other than to cover up tears, okay?”
A bath sounded heavenly. She was sorer than she’d let on, having hit the asphalt hard when the shooter had tossed her away from Mallory in the parking lot. But she hadn’t wanted to be admitted to the hospital, so she’d faked her way through the ER doc’s exam.
She’d wanted to be with Adam and now she was. He set the water running and sniffed at the bath bubbles Kate had packed until he found one he liked. “You have a lot of bubble choices,” he remarked as he studied the label and added exactly the number of capfuls called for. Not more or less.
He was a man who stayed inside the lines. Or tried to. One of these days she wanted to push him outside the lines, just a bit. For now, he drew comfort in routine, just as she did.
He rather formally began removing the scrubs she’d been loaned at the hospital, lifting the top over her head, like he was slowly unwrapping a present. He stood back, taking her in for a moment before gently cupping her breasts in his work-roughened palms. “You’re so damn pretty. You take my breath away.”
He kissed her again, teasing her tongue with his, but not demanding. Just . . . reacquainting them. His fingers pulled at the drawstring on the scrubs and he pulled them down, going down in a crouch as he did. He looked up with a frown. “You’re bruised.” He brushed his fingertips over her hip, his dark eyes flashing with anger. “He hurt you.”
“It’s where I fell in the parking lot. It’s fine.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but thankfully dropped it. “You’re pretty everywhere, you know.” He ghosted a single fingertip up one thigh, stopping just short of where she wanted to be touched, making her knees shake.
“You’re a tease, Detective,” she murmured, then surprised him by grabbing his T-shirt in both hands and ripping it over his head. “That’s not very nice.” She kicked away the scrub bottoms and urged him to his feet. “I should tease you and see how you like it, but I won’t.” She angled a smile upward as she pulled his belt from his trousers. “Because that bath looks amazing and I want in it.” She made quick work of his pants and the tight boxer briefs she had to peel off his body, freeing the very nice erection. And that I want in me.
“Come,” she said as she slid into the tub, the word coming out huskier—and sexier—than she’d expected.
He climbed in after her, sinking into the hot water. “I fully intend to. Several times.” With his back to the tub wall, he held out his hand. “Come,” he said, his grin wicked.
She laughed. “You’re terrible.” But she took his hand and let him pull her to his lap so that she straddled him.
He ran his hands up and down her sides, teasing her nipples on the way up and between her legs on the way down. “But you like it.”
She rested her arms on his shoulders. “I do.” Leaning into him, she covered his mouth with hers and gave him the kiss she’d been thinking about all day. He growled in his throat as he kissed her back, his hips bucking up, splashing water over the tub’s edge.
Abruptly he tore his mouth away and disappeared under the water, startling her a few seconds later by surfacing and shaking his wet head. “I need to get clean because I need to be inside you,” he said and that fast, it was all she wanted, too. They washed each other with an urgency that was heightened by the moment, by every brush of his body against hers. Every pass of his cock between her le
gs, up into her folds.
She locked gazes with him as they teased each other, so she saw his shocked pleasure when he actually slipped inside her. She gasped, her head falling back, because he felt so damn good. So hot. So full. The last time she’d felt a man skin to skin had been . . .
No. Not going there. She wasn’t thinking back to the last time she’d been with a man without using a condom.
She stilled and he froze, his only movements the flaring of his nostrils and the throbbing of his cock inside her. “I’m clean,” he said quietly. “And before this morning, the last woman I was with was still you, last year.”
“So am I. Clean, I mean. And so were you—my last one. Last year.” She frowned, trying to focus, because he felt so damn good. “But I’m not on the pill.” It messed with her hormones, making her super depressed. “So we can’t.”
He let his head fall back with a groan. “I know. Lift off. Carefully.”
She did and as soon as she was out of the tub, he reared up, flooding the floor as he got out, grabbed her around the waist, and hiked her up, tucking her legs around his hips. He carried her into the bedroom she’d been given last night, pulled back the sheets she hadn’t used, and laid her down on the bed she hadn’t slept on.
“I’m still wet,” she protested.
“God, I hope so,” he muttered. “Stay here. I’ll get a condom from next door.”
“No.” She opened the nightstand drawer, finding it as full of condoms as the one next to the bed they’d used that morning.
He laughed breathlessly. “I’m not going to ask. I don’t want to know.” He grabbed one, ripped it open, and slid it on. “Are you still wet?”
Eyes on his, she palmed herself, slipping her longest finger up inside. His eyes blazed, his breaths quickening as he licked his lips. “God. I want to watch you do that again and again until you make yourself come, but not right now. I need you now.”
She stretched both hands above her head. “Then do something, for God’s sake.”