by Renee Rose
I close my eyes. “I still want to kill Hugh, but I know we did the right thing. I just wish I’d done the right thing with Ernie Denesto, too, and we could solidify the attempted murder case against Hugh.” When her brow wrinkles in confusion, I brush her hair from her face. “The hitman Hugh sent to kill you. For your life insurance money.”
Her jaw drops. “I hadn’t put that together yet. The man you killed in the stairwell. He was after me?”
I nod. “I think so, songbird. And we talked about the accident that nearly killed Izzy—do you remember that?”
“I remember.” She shivers and I rub my hands up and down her arms, even though I know she’s not cold.
“Pepper, I’m sorry for what I did. And I’m sorry you had to see it. I kept thinking how close he’d come to killing you, and I just sort of… lost my shit.”
She shakes her head. “No, you saved my life. Yeah, you went too far, but your heart was in the right place. You were protecting me. And I shouldn’t have believed any different about you.”
I trace a light line over her forearm, summoning the courage to speak. I have to get this out—lay it all on the table. “Pepper… you know some of what I’ve done. I’ve killed. I’ve beaten. I’ve intimidated. I’ve followed orders blindly. And I’ve also acted on my own to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.
“But I can tell you this. I’ve never harmed an innocent. I’ve never killed anyone who wasn’t a threat to others. And since I left Chicago for Vegas, I’ve left illegal activity behind me. We got sucked into the thing with Hugh and your record label because we have a venue here and we’re Family. Not because we’re part of racketeering. We wanted no part of it.
“And I swear to Christ, even if I hadn’t fallen hard for you, I never would’ve harmed you, or your parents or even Hugh. I mean, if Hugh hadn’t touched you.”
Pepper hasn’t moved since I started talking, but she covers my roving fingers now, stopping the movement and tangling her digits over the top.
“And if you’d have me—if you would consider letting me into your life, baby, I would quit the Family and walk away forever. Beg you for the bodyguard job. Because the only place I want to use my brawn is protecting you. Keeping you safe, songbird.”
“Can you leave? Walk away?” Her voice is hushed.
I hesitate. “Yeah. Nico would let me go. He’d be sorry, but he would never keep me from you.”
“What about that other guy—Junior?”
I make a grumbling sound in my throat. “A little more difficult, but like I say, I don’t work for him anymore. Only reason I got sucked into this was because we have a stage. And, of course, Junior knew that when he loaned you the money.”
After a moment of silence, I ask, “Does this mean you’re considering it? Considering… us?”
She tightens her grip on my fingers. “I wrote you a song.”
I go still. “You did?”
“Yeah. Wanna hear it?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I want to hear it.”
She gets up and starts to walk away, the sheet dropping to below her waist in the back, giving me the delicious line of her bare back and the top of her scrumptious ass. I grab the fabric and tug her back onto my lap. “Wait a minute.” I tip her backward and kiss her mouth, cup her breast with my hand. “Are you stalling, songbird? You don’t want to answer my question?”
She rubs her lips together. They’re plump from the kissing. “The song is my answer.” Her voice is no longer raspy—it’s husky sweetness. Honey and silk. She meets my gaze steadily.
Pepper
When I was home in L.A. it was the first time I’d been alone.
Ever.
Like the Wonder Twins, I went on the road at sixteen. I was catapulted into instant fame, which means the last seven years have been non-stop recording, events and tours.
So being alone for more than a few hours was a major event for me. I got to really listen to my own yearnings. Figure out what I wanted to do to fill my time, what I wanted to eat, how I could nurture myself.
Every minute was spent grieving for Tony—for what could’ve been. What couldn’t be. And yet it was still a deeply healing time for me.
I took baths. Ordered takeout.
I wrote music. I slept. I centered.
And knowing I could be alone, that I’d make it without even one single other person directing my life, makes choosing to be with Tony even more of a gift.
Because I do choose him. He thought he was soulless. I know the truth.
He’s all heart.
He’s loyalty and love. Yes, he comes from a violent world. But he uses it to do good. To restore balance. To defend the weak.
To defend me.
My acoustic guitar is in my suite, which has been sealed off by the police, so we go down to the theater and I strap on my electric.
I turn on the sound system and get a mic, set it up like a concert for one.
“You sit down there.” I point to the theater seats.
Tony goes without question.
I wrote him a love song. Two, actually. But the one I play for him now is more about dark burning need. It has a driving punk beat inspired by The Sores, and dirty lyrics.
I was dead when I met you.
Sealed into wax, unable to blink.
You shocked me out. Shocked me up.
No time to wait. No time to think.
Plastered on the wall, wrists in your fist,
You flipped the switch, You flipped the switch.
Bring it to me, bring it to me, bring it to me now.
Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me how.
I need you. I need you.
I riff with it, finding the joy of improvisation and creation. By the time I’m done, I’m lost in the pleasure of music, wrapped in the inspiration of Tony. Everything he means to me, even after such a short time.
I open my eyes—yeah, I guess I closed them at some point—and peek at my audience.
He’s leaning back in the chair, one knee crossed over his leg, his mouth covered with his hand.
He doesn’t say a word.
I slowly set the guitar on its stand, trying to control the palpitations in my chest. Was it terrible? Did he hate it? Did he expect more? Maybe I should’ve sung one of the love songs.
I lean into one hip. “What?”
He lunges out of his seat to the edge of the stage and tugs my ankle forward until I topple off into his arms. “Fucking genius.” His voice breaks. “You wrote that for me?”
Oh Jesus, is he blinking back tears?
“I wrote some other ones, too.”
“Don’t play them now.” He turns slowly with me in his arms, like we’re in one of those movie scenes where the camera’s circling the couple.
“Why not?”
“Give me a chance to get myself back together, baby. You’re killing me.”
I touch his face. “Killing you softly?”
“Yeah. Exactly.” He smiles and I know he gets the reference to the Fugees song.
“I love you.”
He drags in a shaky breath. “I love you, Pepper Heart. I would get down on a knee and offer you forever right now if I didn’t think it would scare you off.”
My vision blurs as I laugh. “Yeah, maybe it’s a little soon. Would you consider the manager position?”
“Manager. Bodyguard. Giver of orgasms. I’m whatever you need me to be. Every time. I’m all yours, songbird. However you want me.”
Epilogue
Junior
I didn’t fly out to be a nice guy. That’s never me. But Tony came home to bring his mom out, so I figured I could go for the last concert, too.
Officially, Pepper Heart, Inc. finished paying off its debt to me last weekend. This last concert is a fundraiser to help rape victims. Pretty classy, considering the shit that went down with Pepper and her manager.
I still can’t believe Tony’s letting that asshole keep breathing, but
I guess they say he’ll be locked up for a good long time. The police have evidence of his payment to a known hitman—deceased, killer officially unknown—as well as eyewitness accounts of him rigging the lighting to fall on Pepper, and multiple rape victims from his past coming forward after Pepper went public with her story.
I straighten my jacket and walk past security to the special box seats Tony reserved. I could’ve grabbed a pretty girl from the casino to take in on my arm. It would’ve taken no effort at all—sex is pretty much a given in Vegas. I’m not even sure why I didn’t.
It has nothing to do with Desiree, the luscious home healthcare nurse whose scent is still in my nostrils after I drove her home this morning.
And no, sadly, it wasn’t after spending a hot night tapping that juicy ass of hers. Her car wouldn’t start, and I insisted on calling a mechanic to fix it and driving her home myself.
See, she works for me. I hired her to be with my mom as she recovers from her hip surgery. She’s the fifth nurse I hired, and the only one who stuck. My mom can be a real bitch when she wants to, and who can blame her? The woman’s in pain. Anyway, Desiree has this way of giving it right back to my mom, while still taking care of her every need. Somehow, in the matter of twenty-four hours, she had my mom eating out of her hand.
If I didn’t fear I’d need her for my mom again in the future, I’d see how far she’s willing to take the personal service. See how she is at taking care of my needs.
Nico and Sondra come into the private box, along with Stefano and Corey and Tony’s mom, who I haven’t seen in years. I stand up and offer double kisses to the women, ignore my younger brothers.
“Where’s Tony?” I ask his mom.
“He’s backstage with Pepper, managing the show. Won’t let her out of his sight.” His ma is proud of him. If I weren’t wondering how the hell the toughest enforcer in the family got his balls cut off, I might think it was commendable, too. But we just lost one of our best assets to the Pepper Heart organization, so I’m a little grudging with my well-wishes.
Nico shoots me a suspicious look. He’s probably worried I’m gonna give Tony a hard time about leaving the organization. If Nico hadn’t fallen in love himself last year, he might’ve fought Tony’s request to leave. But he and Stefano are as hopelessly lost as Tony. Love has a curious habit of transforming the meanest men into something much more noble.
But I wouldn’t know.
Tony
I will never get tired of watching Pepper perform. Not if we did this every night until we’re ninety. Or I’m ninety and she’s seventy-something. My girl is a genius. And beautiful. And pure magic.
Tonight she has everyone eating out of her hand. I think there must be a special vibe at a charity event—more love going around than usual.
“Thank you, everyone,” she calls out after she finishes her song. “As you know, rape is an issue near and dear to my heart. I am a rape survivor.” The crowd rumbles, same as I do every time I think about what happened to her. “I’m here to take a stand against sexual assault. Will you join me?”
The crowd lets out ear-splitting cheers.
“One hundred percent of tonight’s proceeds go to benefit the non-profit organization Take Back the Night. I want to thank Bellissimo Hotel and Casino and the Tacone family for donating tonight’s venue and all of you for showing up and making a difference in women’s lives. Every time you stand up against sexual assault, you make the world a safer place, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
“I also want to say that I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for two really important people in my life. The first one is Izzy, my stage manager, who knows that we women have to look out for each other.”
The crowd goes wild again.
“She’s had my back from the beginning, and I can’t express how grateful I am. The other is my boyfriend, Tony.” She smiles and looks in my direction, even though the lights blind her too much to see me. “We met here, at the Bellissimo. He’s the kinda guy who would do anything for the people he loves, and I count myself very lucky to be included on that list. I wrote this song for him. I hope you all enjoy it.”
She adjusts her electric guitar and starts playing. It’s not a song I’ve heard before
All I know, is you’re the one
who always stands with me.
And all I see, is when you’re here
I never need to go.
Stick around, and I’ll sink into you
Stick around, and I’ll never let you go.
I just want to be forever, be forever,
Be forever with you
I just want to know forever, know forever,
Know forever with you.
And baby if you want forever, want forever,
Want forever with me
You just gotta bring forever, bring forever
Bring forever, bring forever
My eyes are wet. One song was enough. Then I find out she’s written more. But this one? This one is ripping me bare.
And she keeps singing, her face lit up like a goddamn angel’s, rivaling the lights shining down.
When it’s over, the crowd flips out again and she takes a bow, blowing kisses before she hangs the guitar up and jogs offstage and into my arms.
“Baby.” It’s all I can say. My throat is too rusty to work. Plus I have no words. I squeeze her tight and refuse to let go. I’m swaying back and forth with her little body engulfed in my arms. Finally, I say, “When you’re ready, I’m gonna buy you the biggest diamond on the face of the earth. And you’ll have your forever.”
“I’m ready.” She says it so simply. Without hesitation.
I want to drop to my knees out of the sheer grace of it.
“Yeah?” I choke.
“Yes. I want it all. The ring. The wedding. Babies. Songs. Tours with you as my manager. Do you think that’s possible?”
I squeeze her tighter. “Yeah, it’s fucking done. I promise. You’ll get everything you ever dreamed of.” I release her enough to capture her lips with mine, kissing her into oblivion. It goes on for a good ninety seconds before someone clears their throat.
Turns out, we have an audience. Which is good, because I’m telling everyone.
Pepper’s parents are standing there, along with my mom and Junior, Nico, Sondra, Stefano, Corey, Izzy, the Wonder Twins and the rest of the band.
“We’re getting married,” I announce.
My mom—seriously, my mom, who never calls attention to herself—whoops.
Corey and Sondra join in, and so does Izzy, and Pepper’s band mates.
“Congratulations,” Nico says, taking me in for a man hug. Stefano gives me one, too.
Junior shakes his head at me, but a smile plays on his lips. He offers his hand and when I go to shake it, he pulls me into him. “You know there’s no leaving the Family, right?”
“Yeah, we’ll always be there for each other. Right?” I pull back and look him square in the eye. It’s a challenge and he knows it.
He chuckles and thumps my shoulder. “That’s right.”
Sometimes I think Junior talks a big game but doesn’t mean any of it. Like what he did to Nico over marrying Sondra.
Pepper
My parents pull me over to the side. My dad looks pale and worried.
Crap.
I’m really not up for them giving me any shit about marrying Tony.
“Pepper, are you sure about this? This is what you want?”
“Of course it is, Tom, can’t you see how happy she is?” my mom answers for me.
My dad bobs his head. “Yeah, okay. Listen, Pepper. I just want to tell you…” He looks like he’s going to be sick. “I’m sorry about Hugh. I’m the one who pushed you into that relationship. I made a huge mistake. Huge. And it took other people—practical strangers—to save you from him, when it should’ve been me.”
Ah. I see. Dad is feeling guilty.
I squeeze his hand. “Dad, it’s okay. You didn’
t know. You haven’t been on tour with me in a long time. Everything turned out all right. Hugh didn’t succeed in killing me. And now I have Tony.” I look over my shoulder and smile, knowing Tony’s gaze will meet mine, because he always keeps me in his periphery.
They do. Crinkles form around his warm brown eyes as he regards me. I never feel anything but beautiful or brilliant when he looks at me that way. And then his eyes darken, a smolder of promise there making my inner thighs clap together.
I hug Sondra and Corey and Izzy and the band and my parents while Tony finishes pumping hands and clapping backs with everyone.
“Thank you all so much,” Tony booms, cutting through the chit chat. “We want to continue to celebrate with you, so please, let’s move this party up to my suite. Help yourselves to cocktails and food and we’ll join you as soon as we wrap things up here.”
Nico helps encourage them along as Tony ushers me into the dressing room.
The place where this all started.
I turn to him, dipping a finger in my mouth. “I’m feeling a bit nostalgic about this dressing room. You know—remembering my first show here.”
Hunger transforms Tony’s face. “I’m feeling a bit nostalgic about those shorts you’re wearing.” His voice is deeper than usual. “How did this go? I think you start undressing while getting sassy with me.”
I pull my top off and rub a towel between my breasts. “Like this?”
His eyes trace my taut nipples, travel over my butterfly tattoo. “Almost. You need to tuck your thumbs in the waistband of those little shorts and—” he bites his knuckle when I do. “Yeah, that’s it. And then I come over and spin you around.” He molds his hands to my waist and makes a rumble of approval at the connection of skin to skin.
“No, I don’t think it was quite like that.” I look up with mock innocence.
His smirk tells me he knows exactly what I want. “No, it wasn’t, was it?” He captures my wrists behind my back and spins me around. This time he pulls my little shorts down to my thighs, baring my ass.