I remember them from school, even though they were older. After Damon and Maddox graduated, they kind of dropped off my radar. Over the years, I heard about them joining the military through the grapevine. I’ve heard rumors, too. Dirty things, but I’m not sure if they’re true. I overheard a conversation once that they share women. As in the two of them take women to bed together. Fuck them together. I bite down on my lip remembering how, at first, I thought it was all lies. They were always together, best friends and all. But that seemed so… unrealistic. A man like Maddox doesn’t seem like he’d want to share.
But I’ve heard it more than once. And about more than one woman. And you know what they say, when there’s smoke, there’s fire.
My thighs clench slightly at the thought, and a violent blush travels up to my cheeks as I force myself to look out of the window.
I’m going to be staying with them.
I stare at the back of the headrest in front of me, my mind going back to Uncle Vit’s office.
My ankle rolled and I nearly tripped when I first walked in, my heart doing a backflip the second I laid eyes on them. I haven’t seen them in a few years, not since my sophomore year of high school and it took great effort not to show how shocked I was at the two of them sitting there.
I bite my lip as my eyes flick back to the rearview mirror. Neither of them are paying any attention to me as the hum of the car disrupts the quiet, and the radio plays softly through the speakers. They still have that dangerous air around them that marked them as bad boys in high school. But they’re not boys anymore. That’s for damn sure.
Not that I ever thought of them like that.
I’m broken out of my reverie as the car rolls to a stop at a red light and I lean slightly forward. The goosebumps on my flesh seem to rise higher along with the hairs on the back of my neck. I can practically feel eyes boring into me. I look toward the front of the vehicle, and my breath catches in my lungs.
Maddox is staring at me from the passenger visor mirror. I stare back for a moment, and I’m shocked when I feel my nipples harden. I curse inwardly at myself, suddenly self-conscious.
Quickly, I bring my arms up around my breasts, my cheeks turning red from shame, hoping to God he didn’t see anything.
I might be burning up with attraction for him, but he sure in hell can’t feel anything for me. He’s just here to do a job, and he knows my uncle would have his balls.
Lowering my lashes, I tear my gaze away from the mirror, my skin heating from embarrassment. My breathing is ragged as I try to calm my racing heart, feeling confused about the red-hot desire I feel for Maddox.
Holy shit. This isn’t good. What the hell was Uncle Vit thinking hiring these two to protect me? I was suspecting two ugly, balding, middle-aged muscle men. Not my high school crushes turned into walking sex gods.
I jump slightly when Damon speaks.
“You doing alright back there?” he asks as the light turns green and he drives through the intersection.
I do my best not to look in Maddox’s direction as I pull my dress down some and rest my arms over my chest, trying to act natural. “I’m fine.”
Damon reaches forward and turns down the music that’s been playing in the background. “What? I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat loudly.
I can see Damon’s skeptical expression in the rearview mirror. “You don’t look it.” His voice has a deep, rich, calming quality about it that makes me feel like I’m lying on a bed of velvet.
“Getting shot at will do that to you,” I reply barely above a murmur.
Of course I’m not fine. I narrowly avoided death, and now I’m in hiding until God knows when.
I close my eyes for a moment, sucking in a deep steadying breath, my fingers brushing over my palm, wishing my mom’s earrings were there. When I open them again I feel a bit calmer.
But I’m so exhausted.
The chill from the air conditioner makes me rub my hands down my arms. Damon’s quick to reach over and turn it off. His eyes catch mine in the mirror and he gives me a small smile.
“Thank you,” I practically whisper my gratitude, warmth flowing through my chest at his thoughtfulness. Damon is such a gentleman.
“You need to speak up,” Maddox says, turning quickly in his seat to look at me. I flinch from how hard his voice comes out. The shock makes me silent for a moment until I can get a grip on myself. I know I’m supposed to listen to the two of them, but fuck that. I don’t need to be talked to like that. Not from him. Or anyone, for that matter.
Part of me wants to yell at him, to let him really hear me. But instead I rip my gaze away from his and stare out of the window again. I watch as the trees along the highway whip by.
A yawn creeps up on me, and my eyes feel heavy. The stupid attraction I felt as a young teen is waning, and the reality of my situation is coming back to me.
I settle into my seat, taking in a shaky breath and wishing I could just lie down.
I’m safe now though. At least I have that. My eyes flicker to the front of the car; I know they’ll keep me safe.
I finally respond to Maddox, “I haven’t slept well lately.” I make sure my voice comes out clear. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired.”
Maddox shifts in his seat, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. Whatever he was going to say is cut off by Damon, who says, “You don’t have to listen to him, honey bee. You can be as quiet as you want.”
Honey bee.
Maddox turns sharply to stare at Damon, and I wish I could see his face, but I can’t.
Damon gives me a tight smile in the rearview mirror as Maddox looks out of his own window ignoring both of us, it seems. “Just get some rest, we have a while until we get there.”
I nod my head at Damon’s command.
I can do that; my body is begging me for it. I move the seatbelt from across my shoulder and lie flat in the back of the car. God, the exhaustion from the past week hits me hard.
I’ve barely slept. The flashbacks from the hit and knowing I was back home left me too anxious to sleep well.
I close my eyes, but before the darkness fully takes me over, a soft blanket covers me, shielding me from the chill of the air. I open my eyes to see Maddox tucking a blanket around my shoulders.
His touch is firm, yet gentle in a way I wasn’t expecting.
I try to say thank you, I know I mean to, but my eyelids are so heavy, and my body so light, I’m not sure I say the words before sleep takes over.
Chapter 6
Maddox
I’ve always thought of myself as a professional. Even if what I’m doing isn’t a white-collar career. I’ve always taken it seriously and done the best I can do.
But right now, this is bad; this is real fucking bad. I run my fingers through my hair as I let out a heavy sigh, looking at the safe house through the passenger window. All I can think about are those heels digging into my ass as I fuck Bianca’s tight cunt. She needs it. Fuck, I need it, too.
I close my eyes as the car slows to a stop. I don’t even wait for Damon to put it in park at the Russo safe house, I gotta get the fuck out of here. Her sweet scent and soft sighs in her sleep made me hard as fuck. The sound of my door opening startles her from her sleep. I nearly apologize, but instead I close the damn thing and suck in a breath of cool fresh air.
Damon shuts the driver’s door to the car just as Bianca opens hers. I’m already rounding the car to go to the rear, avoiding both of their gazes.
Bianca stretches as she climbs out, covering her mouth as she yawns and then takes an unsteady step on the gravel driveway, letting out a small yelp in surprise when her ankle rolls. I jump for her, even though I’m too far away, but Damon reaches out his hand, clutching her elbow and helps her stand up straight. My heart skips a beat as she sucks in a breath, her ankle twisting slightly. Damon braces her hip in his hand, and she’s quick to grab onto him.
My blood runs cold watching the two of them. I can’t
explain why I’m so tense. My grip tightens on the car door latch I'm holding as he gazes down at her.
“You okay?” His voice is soft and comforting. He’s good at that, always has been. It’s an area where I fall short.
“Yeah,” she says with a heavy breath. Bianca gives him a small smile, shaking her head and kicking the ground under her feet as she lets him go and straightens her dress. “Stupid heels,” she says as she tries to play it off and back away as she adds with an innocent laugh, “I don’t know why I bother wearing them.”
My eyes travel down her curvaceous legs to the bright pink stilettos she’s wearing. If I had it my way, she’d be in those heels every fucking day. Nothing but them.
And that’s just one more reason I need to get my ass inside and away from her.
I remember that deadly look in Vittoro’s eyes. A frigid numbing sensation travels down my shoulders as I crack my neck and open the rear car door.
I run my hand down my face and do my best to get my mind off of her. I feel both sets of their eyes on me but I ignore them, pulling two bags that are hers out of the truck and throwing one over each of my shoulders. I don’t know what the hell she packed, but they’re heavy as fuck. I stifle my grunt as the second one hits my side. Damn, she better have enough shit in here for an entire fucking month.
“I’ll get the others,” Damon says to I don’t know who. Could be me, could be her. I ignore him and start walking toward the safe house, my hot breath turning to fog in the crisp air.
I leave both of them behind even though he’s the one with the key. The night air chills my skin and heated blood. I need it. I need to calm the fuck down.
The house itself looks large even though it’s not two stories, but it is long. It’s in the shape of a square with a wraparound porch that travels along the entire exterior.
It’s not the kind of home I’d pick out, but it’s one I’m happy to stay at for a few weeks until this war is settled. Better than some hole in the wall. Shit, it’s better than my studio.
The first bag smacks rhythmically against my back as I walk up the wooden steps to the covered front porch. The stairs are old and worn, dipping slightly with my weight. They're sturdy enough, just in need of some TLC. Maybe I can work on repairing them while we're here. It's just the type of distraction I could use to keep my mind off Bianca.
Russo’s house is up in the mountains; the driveway is nearly a mile long and steep as fuck. There’s a small Podunk town about twenty minutes away, but other than that, there’s no one else around for miles and miles. We stopped at a drive-through about an hour back, but that was the last place I saw that had any real civilization to it. He wasn’t kidding when he said no one would find us out here.
I grit my teeth, my hands gripping the thick black straps tighter. They better not. I have my guns with me and our tech equipment, so this place should be secure. Usually I’m looking for a fight, but not now. They all better stay far away from her.
The crickets chirping and the sound of Bianca’s heels crunching into the gravel follow behind me. Damon has the key for the car, locking it and silencing the crickets with the soft beep beep. I turn around, leaning against the wooden paneled house and taking a look around.
The gravel driveway ends in a slate path leading up to the front. Bianca slips off her shoes as she gets to it, apparently tired of wearing them even though it’s fucking freezing outside. Her bare feet pad against the stone as she slowly walks up to where I’m standing.
I try not to look at her and stare straight ahead, even as she walks right up and stands next to me. She’s so close to me I could reach out and touch her. Even then I keep my eyes focused in front of me. I’m on a job. And I already want too much. I want a woman I can’t have.
Bianca noticeably clears her throat and speaks softly, “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask, forcing my neck to stay still and not turn to her. That soft voice could command me to do anything. She makes me weak; I already know that much.
She shrugs and turns slightly, glancing out to where I’m looking. “Just for the blanket.” There’s a casual air to the way she answers me, and I’m not sure I like it.
My eyes flicker to hers and I only mean to give her a small nod, but the way her eyes look deep into mine makes me hold her gaze. She doesn’t back down. My glare doesn’t affect her in the way it does most men. But then again, it’s Bianca, and she has a fight in her that the beast inside me recognizes.
After a moment, Damon walks up the steps and the sound of his boots breaks our hold. I take the moment to look past her, wondering what she thinks of me.
We never actually talked all those years ago.
I huff a small laugh at the thought, I never dared say a damn word to the mafia princess. I sure as shit knew about her though.
I have no clue if she has any idea who I am. I know she saw me at least one time. All thanks to my sick fuck of a father. I was in the habit of covering up the bruises with a long-sleeved shirt. Everyone knew, but I felt better if they were covered. He mostly kept the hits to my body and my arms so it was easy to hide.
That day, the day I know she saw me, a bruise was on my jaw. My old man was a mean motherfucker. Everyone knew that, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it but fight back. Sometimes it helped, other times it only made things worse. I remember how much it hurt, and I was surprised how much the pain radiated through me still. It wasn’t even fresh, was a nasty brown color if I remember, fading from the weekend.
I think back to the soft look in her eyes when she saw my jaw. Sympathy. I hated it, and I still do. I don’t need compassion or anyone feeling sorry for me. It doesn’t do anyone any good.
The door opens with a loud groan as Damon pushes against it and shoves the key back into his pocket. The door continues to open on its own, hitting the back wall as Damon heaves the bags over his shoulder and lets Bianca go in first.
I try to shake off the prickly tingle traveling through my body at the memory of the last time I fought my father. My hands ball into white-knuckled fists and then loosen, my chest going tight. It was almost twelve years ago today. But the smack of his head against the corner of the table echoes in my memory. I’ll never forget the sound. It killed him. I killed my own father. Only sixteen years old, and I was already a murderer. They say the first one is the hardest to get over. I’ve killed so many damn men. Too many to remember back in the Special Forces. There’s only one that’s stayed with me all this time.
I guess I got off easy getting charged as a minor. My records were sealed. The lawyer did a damn good job getting me off, claiming I was defending myself. I didn’t have to go on the stand. My father's rap sheet was enough to get me off.
This weekend is the date I hate to face every year.
I follow the two of them inside, watching as Damon sets our luggage down in the front hall. The place is old, but appears well kept. Bianca walks forward and her small hand flicks the light switches one at a time. The first doesn’t do a damn thing as far as I can tell. I slide her bags off my shoulders, letting them fall to the floor easily. The second light switch makes Bianca look back at me. It’s for the porch light behind me.
The third is what lights the hallway. She flicks the second one off and leaves the third switch on, looking back at the two of us for permission to walk forward. I don’t know why that little act makes my lips threaten to kick up into a smirk, but I like it.
“Alright, let’s find the bedrooms,” Damon says. It’s late as fuck and Bianca needs to get back to bed. Her head nods in approval as she yawns, the act nearly making me yawn, too.
“You can take this one,” Damon says after we pass a few rooms. I wasn’t even paying attention, but the mention of where she’s sleeping brings me back to the moment. I rub the sleep from my eyes and take a look back. She has a middle room without any windows, but I’ll still do a lap, setting up the perimeter and making sure it’s alright before I pass the fuck out.
“Do
you guys need any help?” Bianca asks softly.
“We’ve got this. Just go ahead and get comfortable,” Damon answers, and I’m glad he did. He’s gonna need to be the one handling her.
She looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes and asks, “Where are you guys going to be sleeping?”
“We’ll each take a room on either side of you,” Damon answers her, drawing her attention back to him. Her fingers wrap around the doorframe and she looks past me and down the hall some.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything-” she starts to ask Damon again, and I can’t fucking stand it. Anything she can do for me? Fuck, I can think of plenty she could do for me. But I don’t want Vittoro Russo calling out a damn hit on me.
“Just go to bed, Bianca,” I snap back at her. I know my words came out hard and the second I see her eyes flash with hurt, I turn away. My heart squeezes in my chest. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But she’s playing with fire, and she doesn’t even know it. She doesn’t realize how seductive her naivety is. If I was a better man, I could handle her just like Damon’s doing. But I’m not.
“It’s not you,” I hear Damon tell her as I head back down the hall to go back to the car and get the rest of our supplies.
I close my eyes, gritting my teeth. I feel like a fucking asshole. I’d rather she hate me though than give me that sweet look of hers, offering to do anything for me. Fuck. I run my hand down my face and let out a long exhale.
This isn’t good.
This is nothing but fucking trouble.
Chapter 7
Damon
Bianca should be in her room right now. She’s exhausted, and Maddox and I have shit to do… But she’s not.
My back's against the hard counter in the kitchen as I down a glass of water. She’s sitting at a high back barstool at the center island. Three or four paperback novels and a few hardcovers sit in front of her in two small stacks.
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