Damage (Havoc #2)

by Stella Rhys

  I almost laughed in his face. And the Oscar goes to… His starry-eyed gentleman act was so convincing that even Rhode was having difficulty holding in her squeal. I stared in disbelief at Jesse while she squeezed my hand and whispered urgently for me to leave. “Isla, come on. Do it for me. And Lissy. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, so just do a shot and go!” Rhode begged. But before we knew it, she was the one who to leave and help Lissy locate our manager. Apparently, the two men at the end of the bar had a problem with something. They wouldn’t say what, but they needed the manager. My pulse rose as I turned to find them standing, hawking me and Jesse in a way that flashed me back to the lobby bar, before Nate grabbed me and had the other men knock Jesse out.

  Please. Not here. I didn’t need another bloody fiasco and certainly not at my place of work, in front of Rhode. If I wanted to keep Muse Room my little escape from the chaos, I’d need to keep my coworkers out of my mess. Making the snap decision, I turned to Jesse.

  “Meet me at the side door. I’ll be out in one minute.”

  chapter seven

  “Stop looking. We lost them,” Jesse said as I peered out the cab’s rear windshield for the twentieth time.

  “I don’t want to upset Abram, I just don’t want – ”

  “Don’t worry,” Jesse said before telling the driver to go over the Manhattan Bridge.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, my adrenaline slowing enough for me to realize that I wasn’t actually sure what the plan was – all I’d wanted was to get Jesse away from Abram’s men at Muse Room. Prying my attention off the traffic behind us, I looked at him, narrowing my eyes at the signature mischief in his smile. “Jesse. Where are we going.”

  “Dinner.” He smirked and gave an innocent shrug. “Just some place my family goes to sometimes.”

  Where we wound up was Bay Ridge, at a small corner bistro with two large windows up front and a burgundy awning. I was charmed but for some reason trying to find reasons not to be. “Pretty packed in there. Are we going to be able to sit down?”

  Jesse laughed as he eyed me. “Yeah. I think we’ll manage.”

  Considering the size of the crowd, I held onto my doubts. But it didn’t take long for me to figure out that everyone was there entirely for Jesse because the second we walked in, the roomful of chatter burst into a single, raucous cheer, prompting his head bowed, hand-on-chest display of being humbled despite the fact that he clearly knew this was waiting for him. It wasn’t long before I realized that this was Jesse’s homecoming – a welcome back party complete with uncles, cousins, nephews and multiple generations fighting over the outdated sound system, which jumped from Sinatra to Thin Lizzy to Nas and Biggie. It felt like a scene plucked straight from a movie as we parted the crowd, Jesse kissing his way through what seemed like a hundred friends and relatives before we reached the stately, white-haired man he was looking for. Uncle John, apparently. I didn’t realize that I’d let Jesse take my hand till Uncle John smiled with delight down at our entwined fingers. Instinctively, I twitched to jerk it away but Jesse held on tight and since I still harbored a weird need to be please all elderly people, I let him. I simply smiled along as he and Uncle John chatted, their volumes dipping in and out of low murmur and whispers. I stood there as several others approached, answering all their curious questions like a respectful girlfriend at her first family gathering. Most seemed to assume that was what I was, though I heard someone ask, at one point, “Is this the girl?” to which Uncle John replied, “Yes,” before turning to me to say, “And we’re very grateful for how she’s helped our Jesse during this difficult time. God knows he always needs a good woman behind him,” he winked at me. I just smiled. I wasn’t sure if we were all talking about the same thing – if they knew that I’d helped Jesse expose Stefan – and I certainly didn’t think it was appropriate to clarify, so I kept my mouth shut and played trophy wife till Jesse and I were finally able to sit alone for a second. I smirked at him.

  “Just some place, huh.”

  “Yeah. Just some place that both sides of my family congregated to see me for the first time in a year. Did I leave that part out?”

  “I think so.”

  Jesse laughed. “Well, you know. Figured we’ve slept together, you might as well meet the family.” When I shot him a look, he relented. “I’m kidding. Honestly thought if you were still scared of me, you’d feel better in a room full of my overly affectionate relatives.”

  “I’m not scared of you,” I said just as one of his aunts came by to grab his face, smash a kiss on his cheek and walk away. “Especially not after that.”

  Jesse gave the obligatory groan though I could tell he was reveling in the love. “Do I have lipstick on me now?” he turned back to me.

  “All over,” I lied as I watched him laugh and wipe angrily at his cheek with a napkin. It was odd seeing Jesse in such a normal family setting. I wondered where his mother was.

  “Did I get it?”

  I took the moment to study him as he looked up at me, his brow slightly crinkled. God, I couldn’t put a finger on it but he still did remind me of all my high school crushes. “Yeah, you got it,” I finally murmured as the waiter came by to pour me champagne. I was surprised when Jesse greeted him with a few quick lines of fluent Italian, but I had my expression neutralized by the time his green eyes returned to me. Lifting his glass, he gave a little tilt of his head.

  “Cheers.”

  “To what?”

  He smirked as he scanned the menu. “You being so hot that Abram forgot how to be an assassin for a couple months. You’re a bona fide lifesaver, babe,” he said, taking a big swig of his drink. The girly sound that bubbled from my lips surprised us both. Jesse looked up from his menu, breaking into a slow but massive smile. “Christ, what was that? Was that a giggle? Make that sound again.”

  “No.”

  “Come on. That was the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I snorted. “Leave me alone.”

  “Fine. But I’m gonna make you do it again before the end of the night,” he murmured, trailing off as he went back to reading the wine list. “I think we’re gonna go with the Barolo,” he said, running his hand over his close-shaved head, concentrating on his choice as if we were taking a test. I couldn’t help studying him. It was the same face he made when I knew him as Sean – when he was trying to remember the name of a skatepark. Was it the place in Baltimore where he cracked his head open or was it at Pier 62? He’d clawed at his then-shaggy hair as he tried to get the story right. I remembered every word of what he recalled because I’d loved the stories. My favorite had been the time he’d taught his niece how to “shred.” “She was doing really good but she’s a perfectionist, so she ended up losing all spirit after taking one bad spill. And I kept trying to tell her that every skateboarder falls but she wasn’t having it so I was like, ‘fuck it, I know what to do.’ Went twenty-five miles an hour over a stick, wiped the fuck out in the name of family. Four stitches on my face but she just landed her first ollie last week so guess it was worth it.”

  I watched Jesse bite his knuckle as he studied the menu. “Were any of those even true?”

  He blinked up at me. “What?”

  “The day we slept together. You came over to say thank you for bandaging the finger I’m sure you cut on purpose to meet me, since you didn’t actually live across the hall. We hung out and drank and then you started telling me about how you got your scars. How bad you wiped out at Pier 62 and all these other funny stories. Were they even true?” I asked.

  Jesse gave a short laugh. “Yes.” He paused, eyeing me with amusement as I tried to read his face for hints of lying. “Just so you know, the skater kid you met before you found out my real name – that was me. Still me. My general preference is to just chill and ride my board to the park but I haven’t had the time in the past year or so. What with the whole running-for-my-life thing,” he said wryly, downing the rest of his champagne. “Every story I told you was t
rue, Isla. Matter fact, the star of your favorite one is,” he pointed at the kid’s table, “right over there.”

  I turned to see a girl no older than twelve in a Volcom T-shirt, hot pink skirt and checkered socks. “Is that Gianna?” I smiled, waving when she caught my eye.

  “My mini-me,” Jesse grinned, waving her over. In a flash, she bolted from the other kids, running to our table and slamming into Jesse with a force that nearly toppled his chair. “Easy!” he laughed as she scooted him halfway off his seat to take her own. “Gia, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Isla,” Jesse said, taking her hand and offering it to me when she simply sat there for a moment, still overcome by her giggles.

  “You’re prettier than his last girlfriend,” she said as we shook hands.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Am I now?”

  “She was a crazy person!”

  “Gia, that’s not nice,” Jesse said, though he turned to me and mouthed “she was a crazy person.”

  “Good to know. So, Gianna, I hear you’re a pretty awesome skateboarder now.”

  “Not as good as Jesse. We built a ramp in the basement though. How did you guys meet?”

  I blinked, trying to process the rapid topic changes. Jesse palmed her head like a basketball and wiggled it from side to side. “Excuse her,” he said as she laughed hysterically. “The kids in her grade are starting to couple up and she just got her first boyfriend, so she’s extra curious about dating.” He grinned when Gianna snapped her head to him with eyes that asked, “Who told you?” “I still talked to your mom while I was gone, Gia. I know about everything, kiddo, down to the fight with Jen Massi’s brother,” he said, holding a firm stare. But then at the same time, they broke into big twin smiles and bumped fists. “Good job. That kid’s a fuckin’ punk.”

  Gianna beamed for exactly two seconds before pressing on with hyper curiosity. “Wait, so how did you guys meet? Actually! Actually. I changed my mind. How… did you know you liked her?” Her eyes, a shade lighter than Jesse’s, gleamed as she looked up at him. I lifted an eyebrow and played along.

  “Interesting question. How did you know you liked me, Jesse?”

  He laughed and shrugged, nonchalant. “Well, I’m not gonna bullshit you, Gia, I took one look at her and I thought she was really pretty but no guy should like you just for that, so make sure this Robbie character is dating you because you’re pretty and badass, alright?” With a solemn nod from Gianna, he continued. “Anyway, I also liked that Isla and I had a lot in common. I found out she ran track in high school and hey, I ran track in high school. She used to teach fifth graders and what do you know, my fifth grade teacher was my favorite one ever. So that’s nice, right?”

  Gianna looked unimpressed. “That’s it?”

  “No. There are a few other things we have in common but I can’t tell you those till you’re older. But I can tell you that Isla also had a little sister she loved as much as I love Uncle Stefan.”

  I flinched at the mention of Stefan, staring in shock at Jesse’s ability to mention him so casually. I stared at him as Gianna wrinkled her nose.

  “Where is Uncle Stefan?”

  “Traveling,” Jesse said flatly. The answer seemed to suffice. “Hey, Gia, do me a favor, alright? Go in the kitchen and ask Carla if she can make that tiramisu we like. You know she makes it with more love when you ask,” he said, sending her off with a pat on the back. He took his time to return his eyes to me.

  “Couple questions,” I said when he finally did.

  “Figured.”

  “One – does your family know about… Stefan?” I whispered.

  “The ones who need to know.”

  “Which ones are those?”

  “The ones in charge of enforcing the hard decisions.”

  I nodded. He was family, the son of Dante Toro, but Stefan had snitched. He had betrayed the Family in the worst way possible. Even I knew that no man, blood or not, could come back from that. “They’re okay with letting Abram take care of it?”

  “No. They’re okay with letting me take care of it. So that’s what I’m going to do,” Jesse said, his voice hard. He flashed me a look. “Moving on.”

  “Okay.” I bit my lip, his expression making my heart thump. “Two – I’m assuming you did a creepy background check on me to find out about my extracurriculars in high school.”

  “Is that a question?”

  “No. My question is what we had in common that you couldn’t tell your niece about.”

  Jesse laughed. “Your juvie record. You went from teenage pill dealer-slash-frat house burglar to Miss Maran, squeaky clean fifth grade teacher. Which is kind of hot.”

  “Is it.”

  “Of course. Everyone likes a good girl hiding a secret bad girl.”

  “Mm, too bad I don’t have the bad girl anymore.”

  Jesse laughed. “I’ve met her, Isla, so there’s no point in lying.” He broke into a grin as I raked my lower lip between my teeth. “Yeah, you’ve got a bad girl in you and she likes to pull my hair and claw my back. And make these insanely hot sounds that I get hard just thinking about.” He smirked as I swirled my wine, trying to give him an utterly unfazed look. “Yeah. I’m sure Abram thought he was punishing me this morning when he made me to listen to him fucking you but that only confirmed that you moan a hell of a lot louder with me.” I stopped swishing my wine. I opened my mouth to retort but Jesse spoke over me, his eyes burning into mine. “I’m sure you rewrote the memory in your head because you’re convinced you’re in love with that guy but I’m not making up the fact that you screamed so loud when I fucked you that your neighbor started banging on the wall. I mean ‘Sean’ isn’t even my real name but the way you said it made me come harder than I probably ever have in my life. Kind of makes me wonder how hard I’d have come if you said ‘Jesse.’” The look of thorough satisfaction on his face confirmed that my cheeks were beet red. “Guess we still have time to figure that one out,” he murmured just as I heard a chorus of chair legs scraping against hardwood.

  And suddenly, there was a struggle at the door. Jesse and I rose to our feet at once, sensing the exact trouble before we had to see it.

  “I’m here for her. That’s it.”

  I heard his seething but steady voice. Abram had finally caught up to us.

  Shit. Before it could escalate, I offered myself, rushing to the door and repeating the words “I’m fine” in hopes of calming him down. I was already tired of this, worn and frayed like the rope in a game of tug of war. All I wanted at this point was to be curled up on the couch with Rhode, drinking a cheap bottle of wine from Trader Joe’s and watching some stupid reality show about cupcakes or weddings or both. Instead, I found myself suddenly the only person equipped to work damage control between the two biggest, most testosterone-fueled tempers in all of New York. And with exhaustion, I realized that the constant back-and-forth was nowhere near an end because after a hasty goodbye to his family, Jesse followed me out the door, helping himself to the front seat in Abram’s car and slamming the door just as the driver took off.

  “Yeah, just so you know,” he turned to Abram with a big grin but a dead stare. “Nothing you plan regarding Stefan is ever gonna happen without me, so don’t ever try that fucking shit again. Now let’s roll.”

  chapter eight

  “There would’ve been a flat-out brawl in the middle of the bar if I didn’t leave that second,” I muttered to Abram as he watched Jesse walk in front of us through the Monarch. Arms crossed, I wrapped my poncho cardigan tight over my cocktail uniform, my heels clicking neatly across the floor as he remained silent. “In case you forgot, Abram, I was instructed by your handlers to keep all of this a secret and Rhode would have figured it out in a second if your security guys wound up beating Jesse to a pulp in the middle of our dining room.” Through the corner of my eye, I peered up at Abram, whose eyes were still glued to Jesse as we made our way to Genevieve, the French restaurant on the thirty-fifth floor of the hotel. I watche
d the thin grey fabric of his T-shirt rise and fall as his chest muscles flexed and un-flexed.

  “If you knew those were my men, Isla, you should’ve gone to them the second Jesse walked in the door. Just because he didn’t kill Gavin doesn’t mean he’s never killed. He’s dangerous. He’s not someone you should ever want to be alone in a room with.”

  My gaze trailed up from his balled fist to the vein lining his forearm, which flexed against the sleeve of his white button down, rolled up just below his elbow. “You’re dangerous too,” I pointed out, holding my ground when he turned his wolfish stare on me. “You’ve killed men before. But I know who you are inside – at least I think I do – which is why I trust myself to be alone in a room with you. I’ve tried –trust me, Abram, I have tried but I can’t seem to define you by the people you’ve hurt. Because you don’t do it for fun. I know you. There’s a story to explain you and everything that you do.”

  Abram stopped in his tracks. For a moment, his gaze lingered on me, hot, intense but unreadable. “Are you saying you know Jesse as well as you know me?”

  It was my turn for silence. But I did a good job masking the sudden racing of my heartbeat. “No,” I answered simply. “But I know he’s not just some killing machine. He’s a person. With emotions and feelings and things at stake. We’ve all lost somebody at this point, Abram – you, me, Jesse, Nate. We’re all hurting and just trying to figure out how to move on, and for you guys, Stefan is the key to that, so just make this easier on all of your hearts and help each other. You all want the same thing, you’re just letting your big man egos get in the way of working together.” I held my breath when I was done, anticipating Abram’s reaction. I watched, my heartbeat in my throat as I waited for him to speak. Outside the restaurant doors, the hostesses flat-out stared at us as he simply stood there before me, six feet and four inches of dauntingly rigid muscle. But to my surprise, his stance relaxed just enough for me to notice and with a hand in my hair, he pulled my face up for a kiss.