by J. L. Drake
“I won’t take no for an answer.” He clenched his fists, obviously annoyed with her resistance. A ‘don’t argue with me’ look was clearly written on his face.
Madison dismissed the comment. She’d had enough of being bullied by men for one day and her immediate concern was her friend. “I’m taking Steph to the ER. You can stay or go.”
Roman crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Let’s go, Steph.”
“I’m not going, and that’s that.” Stephanie was obviously in pain, but Madison didn’t want to argue with her any further. All this turmoil was giving her a headache.
She grabbed a black sharpie pen and a white piece of paper from the copy machine. Writing in sharp, frantic lettering, she made a sign:
Closed until further notice.
Chapter Seven
Roman
Roman frowned. He’d never met a more stubborn woman in his life. Correction, make that two stubborn women. The fact that Stephanie refused to go to the hospital, but agreed to see the Caponelli family’s private physician set off a red flag.
“Arlo. Get some guys to shadow them. I want a tail on them at all times.”
“I’m on it.” He took out his cell and made a few calls.
He stretched his fingers out of the tight fist he’d been holding and studied the disarray of the shop. Diego’s men were the only ones to come to mind. This type of shit was their style. A bridal shop? “Fucking losers,” he cursed. A smirk touched the corners of Roman’s mouth and the glory of offing Diego spread across his lips. Killing him left no remorse. The guy was an asshole. Any acquaintances of his were probably still toasting his demise and far from here.
It had to be an outsider, someone moving in on Genoa. Roman swore under his breath. This was his territory and no one else’s. Arlo would have to do some digging.
“Hey, boss.” Arlo stepped to his side, a scowl on his face.
“Yeah?”
“The men are in place and Dom’s on his way.” Dominic was a cleaner in more ways than one. The guy had a tragic past, but seemed to fit in perfectly with the family. He was a gifted artist who could weld or make anything out of iron and metals. Dom was equally creative at torture and disposing of bodies. He was a fucking artist in all things. What Roman liked best about the man was that he never questioned an order and didn’t talk much.
“Good.” Roman puffed out his cheeks.
Fury raised its ugly head again as he surveyed all the damage that had been done to the store. If the fucker who did this had touched Madison, he’d have skinned him alive. Roman had to squeeze his eyes shut, the idea hurt so badly.
“You stay until he gets here. Have him fix or replace anything that’s broken. Then meet up with me.” The urge to bang some heads together was overwhelming. “I’m going to the cop shop. See if they found out anything new. You make some calls too. Find out if anyone knows who this prick is.”
“What do you want done with him when we find him?” That’s one of the things he liked best about his friend. It wasn’t if they found him but when they found him. Arlo was a bloodhound. The guy had already taken a seat in one of the shop’s sofa chairs that hadn’t been vandalized and began to flick through his contact list.
“Just find him. I don’t just want to know who, I want to know why.” With that, he left the shop, the bell jingling over his head, and went straight to the police station.
Visiting the Genoa Police Department was not what he’d had on his schedule for the day, but the sooner he found out what he was dealing with, the better.
His shoes echoed on the shiny tile of the department floors as he found his way to Ryan Donavan’s office. They’d gone to the same school as kids and even hung out together after class. They were friends, plain and simple. When they each followed in the footsteps of their fathers, things seemed to fall apart. Roman and Ryan had each other’s back on and off the football field, but since graduation they had gone their separate ways, which, considering their professions, made sense.
Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to end up in the same town where Ryan was a local police officer. He still considered him a friend and Ry had been very beneficial in helping with the mess with Diego, but he had to be careful to not expect or ask too much. The guy had a job to do and their friendship was a conflict of interest.
Roman knocked twice on the opened office door before stepping in and making himself comfortable in the chair in front of one Genoa PD’s finest. Officer Donavan was on the phone but nodded when he entered the room. Ending the call, Ryan tossed the phone on his desk and leaned back in his chair.
“Caponelli,” Ryan said.
“What have you got on the man who ransacked Bell and Bows?” Roman rested his hand on Ryan’s desk.
“We sent the prints into the state crime lab, but don’t hold your breath waiting for the results.”
“Why the hell is that?” Roman tapped his index finger on the desk.
“Cut backs, backlog, take your pick. Unless someone is murdered, the prints go to the back of the line.” Ryan was all business.
“Fuck. Don’t you have any connections there?” Roman crossed his leg over his knee and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. “Someone who could, say, move it to the front of the line?”
“I wish. That would make my job a lot easier, but no, I don’t. Even if I did, we are looking at vandalism. Depending on the damage done, we’re looking at a misdemeanor at best.”
“The women could have been hurt.” Roman beat his fist on the desk. “My woman could have been hurt.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow as he leaned forward.
Madison wasn’t his woman, yet. It drove him insane some days, but she would be his.
“I don’t care what you have to do, but get me this guy’s name,” Roman growled.
“And then what?” Ryan frowned.
“You let me worry about that.”
“Look, I could give a shit about dirt bags like Diego, but I don’t want bodies piling up in my town. It’s bad for the town and bad for the businesses.”
“Letting scum like this trash the town is worse.”
Ryan exhaled loudly. “Miss Miller mentioned the guy had some tattoos on his fingers.”
Roman shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in the chair. “Doesn’t seem typical of any gang members I know of or rival families.”
“The whole thing…it sounds personal. Does she have any enemies that you know of?” Ryan grabbed a notepad and pen.
“No.”
“Could it be that someone is sending you a message and not her?” Ryan gave Roman a knowing look. “Word gets around. You’re not playing with her, are you?”
Roman grimaced. “I’m not fucking playing a game with her.”
“Yeah, okay…Romeo.”
“If you weren't a cop, I would fucking punch you in the face right now.”
Ryan roared with laughter. “Wow, you’ve got it bad.”
Roman stood and glared. “Just figure this shit out.” He turned and left the station more annoyed and agitated than when he got there.
If someone was harassing Madison because of him, the death toll in Genoa would be on the rise very shortly. Screw Ryan and his bad for business shit.
Roman’s phone buzzed. Arlo was on the other end. “Tell me you have news.”
“No. But Dom is working a fucking miracle in the shop.”
Another call came through. Valentina. “I gotta go.” Roman switched over.
“I heard about Madison’s shop. Is she okay?”
“Yeah. Her friend had some cuts, though.”
“I don’t like this, Roman.” Valentina’s voice was low. “This smells like a turf war.”
“What?” Valentina had the uncanny ability to see through motivations. That was mostly the reason why she was in law school. She had a gift.
“Who the fuck wants a turf war in Genoa? And why?” he spat.
“That’s what you have to figure out.” Va
lentina became quiet.
“Your mind is going a mile a minute. Spit it out,” Roman barked.
“Come on, Roman. The deal with Diego and now this.”
Roman felt he had chosen well. Genoa was an affluent low crime area. What he did flew under the radar and he kept his business quiet and took most of it elsewhere. His father ran most of the illegal stuff out of Chicago.
“Maybe you brought this on,” she said.
“Me? You are fucking saying this is my fault?”
“Yeah, I am.” Valentina blew a breath into the phone. “I’m going to see if I can get Madison to stay with me for a while until you sort this out.”
That pissed Roman off even more. If anyone was going to protect Madison, it was going to be him.
“I’ll talk to you later.” He clipped the end button and called Arlo back.
“Pick her up,” he ordered into the phone.
“Come again?” Arlo said.
“When you’re done, pick Madison up and take her to my house.”
“I don’t think she is going to come willingly, Boss.”
“And there’s a problem with that?”
Arlo sighed. “Okay.”
“You handle it, personally. I don’t want anyone else touching her.”
“Got it.”
“Good. I have some calls to make.”
Madison
The tub Madison soaked in was fragrant, steamy, and just what the doctor ordered after the horrific day she’d had. She took the last sip of Moscato and set the glass on the bathroom floor. It was her second one. Taking a deep breath, she sank a little lower in the tub. The scent of the eucalyptus spearmint body wash her mother had picked up for her during one of her travels soaked through her skin and helped clear her mind. Damn, in all the chaos she’d forgotten to call her mother back.
After dropping Stephanie off at her house and making sure she’d laid down to rest, Madison broke every speed limit to get home. Thankfully, some stitches from the doc and a pill to help her sleep were all that Stephanie needed to get her through the night after their traumatic day.
No longer having to put on a brave face, she let the tears flow. She hadn’t sobbed like that in years and once they started, they didn’t stop. Her tears mixed with the sudsy bathwater. Crying hard, Madison could taste the salt of her sobbing. She smacked her fist against the porcelain tub before truly gaining her composure. She’d hoped to go back to the bridal shop, maybe try to clean up the mess, but it was too soon. Madison knew her limits. It would be stupid to tackle it when her emotions ran so high.
Her phone buzzed with a call and her gaze shot to the rectangular electronic device gently bouncing on the tile. The word Mom lit up with her mother’s youthful face. Madison would be lucky to get her genes. Her mother always looked a decade below her true age. If Connie was only concerned with the state of the business, she could wait. She let it go, the phone dancing around until it finally stopped.
Madison pressed the tip of her sudsy finger on her iPad to play her favorite tunes to chill with. The music instantly filled the bathroom and she let her head rest comfortably on the cushioned bath pillow. It was a luxury that was now a necessity. The combination of the day’s events and the horror she endured a few months ago created a mantra of everything will work out and everything will be fine. Scarlett O’Hara’s tomorrow is another day repeated in Madison’s mind while her eyes closed.
She slipped lower in the bubbles, trying to block out the world, just her nose, ears, and forehead peeking out. It worked. Little by little, her neck and shoulders loosened, and calm began to settle in her twisted stomach which she’d been certain would be permanently filled with acidic bile.
A bump sounded from the living room, not loud or alarming but curious. Madison froze and her heart rate somersaulted. She listened long and hard. Nothing. It was probably her older home’s moans and groans as the evening chill settled in. The sounds she never noticed until she was alone at night. Willing herself to relax, she closed her eyes.
A tiny shuffle came from outside the bathroom door and Madison’s eyes snapped open. It stopped, but that didn’t alleviate the racing of her heart at the minor noise. She listened intently for a long, stretched moment. Nothing. Her heartbeat steadied and she went back to soaking and washing away the dreadful day. Other inhabitants could be heard through the walls at times. It was probably just a field mouse seeking warmth in the walls on a cold night. Rationalizing away the thousands of reasons for bumps and bangs was easier than investigating to only find out it was nothing. Being jumpy was probably a common thing after such an ordeal. The water had soothed away the stress and Madison was not giving up on the pleasantness. It was not in her nature. Minutes slipped into at least thirty.
A knock on her bathroom door made her jump a mile, sloshing the foamy water on the floor and on her phone. The device lifted and slid too far away to reach.
“Madison? It’s Arlo.”
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” she screamed. Sheer vehemence sucked its way through Madison. She’d been violated already today, and now her sanctuary was breached by one of Roman’s henchmen. “Get out of my house before I call the cops.”
“I’m not leaving until you come out.”
“How did you get in?” There was no way she’d left the front door unlocked after what happened. It had taken everything she had not to give in to the urge to push the couch in front of the door.
“I told you.” His voice traveled through the door. “It’s easy to get in this place. You need better locks and a security system.”
She’d never had any problems before. “What. Do. You. Want?” Madison stayed right in her tub. This was her home. How dare he come in unannounced?
“Um. I’ve come to get you.”
“Get me? What the hell does that mean?”
“Roman…he wants you to come to stay…at his house.”
“Are you out of your mind? I live here. I’m staying here. You. Leave. Now. And lock up when you go.”
Madison crossed her arms over her naked breasts. If Arlo could break into her home so easily, nothing could stop him from coming through her thin, unlocked, bathroom door. She quickly reached for the fluffy gold towel on the hook next to her.
“I know you’re in the tub. I really think you should put something on and hurry. He doesn’t like to wait. Roman wants you at his house. It’s safer.”
“From what?” Madison tossed back.
Whispery voices emanated from her living room. Shit. Are more people out there? The tears threatened to spring again. The face of the asshole from earlier flashed across her mind, causing her heart to catapult in fear.
“I told you.” A warning echoed through the door. Fear of what was going on made her move. Madison stood and wrapped the towel around herself while lunging for the door knob, practically slipping on the tile to twist the lock.
“You’ve got two seconds to get out or I’m calling the police. I’ve got my phone in here.”
The bang of someone’s shoulder bounced off the archaic door. Its antique lock rattled on the hinges.
“Ahhhhh.” Madison screamed. “Go away.”
Bang. A shoulder hit the door again, and the wood bent against the weight. Splinters flew in several directions. Madison backed away and retreated to a corner.
Bang number three completed the mission. The door burst open. Fractured wood was everywhere. Her home was now in shambles. She trembled between the tub and the sink, dripping water on the floor while wrapped only in a towel.
But it wasn’t Arlo who hovered in the doorway, eyes blazing.
It was Roman.
Chapter Eight
Roman
Madison wearing nothing but a towel was not what he’d been expecting to find when he walked through the door of her house and barged into her bathroom. Her thick hair had been up in the back. Loose curly strands gently framed her face. A girly fragrance floated in the air. Her golden skin was still damp from her bat
h and dewy drops of water streamed down in areas not yet touched by the towel she gripped tightly. So tight, in fact, that her breasts threatened to spill over the top. He knew she had long legs but never dreamed they would be this shapely. Even her toes were sexy, red polish dotting the ends. Growing aroused, he knew he needed to leave, now.
Arlo was supposed to have had her packed, ready to go, and out of here. Instead he decided to pack her things first. Give her time to finish her bath, Arlo had explained, trying to ease the tension. He knew Roman would be pissed as shit when he had to come out here.
Hell, he didn’t have time for this. She was a distraction and one he couldn’t afford. He was going to keep her safe and find out who was behind the destruction of her shop. Or the bigger picture in the scheme of things, find out who might be moving into their territory.
Roman wanted her, needed her, but it was not the time for that. Things had been so much simpler when they first met last fall. It was important to keep his head in the game. Making her his own would have to wait.
“Get dressed now.” It was best to remain angry at her right now, but desire and possession overtook him. He wanted her and damn everything else to hell. His fingers itched to rip the towel from her body. Roman had to get out of here before he took her slippery and wet up against the bathroom wall. That was definitely not how he wanted their first time together to be.
“Don’t order me around. Get out of my house.” Her deep blue eyes were wide and her cheeks pink and flushed. He secretly hoped it was because of him and not her recent soak in the tub.
“You’re coming with me.” He stepped out of the bathroom to address Arlo and gain relief from the tightening in his pants.