Ruthless Sentinel

by Burke, Lynn

  Chapter Fourteen

  Giada

  I curled up in the back of the limo, exhaustion hovering. Marisa and Father had been life-flighted to Mass General, along with Mother who’d refused to be left behind.

  I’d stuck to Logan’s side like a festering cyst in the hours following the shooting while he spoke with the cops and his team.

  Even the FBI showed up with a million questions.

  No one recognized the shooter who’d taken Sin’s bullet between the eyes. No identification on the man left the law in the dark, but since I hung on Logan’s side, I heard exactly who had sent the fucker who might have killed my sister.

  A cartel leader from Columbia—not the best enemy for my father to have. At least, that’s what Logan had heard rumor of, or so he’d stated.

  I wondered, though.

  Although Greed also rode with us, the two men didn’t converse, and I appreciated the silence.

  My cell dinged, and I lifted my head off Logan’s shoulder to swipe the screen open.

  Mother: Marisa is still in surgery, but the doctor just came out to tell me that everything is going well. Your father is here in recovery, also doing well. I’m staying the night with him at the hospital, so please let me know when you get home.

  I typed a single letter—K.

  It’s all I had energy for before dropping my cell, exhaling heavily, laying down, and placing my cheek on Logan’s hard thigh.

  “Giada?” he asked, his voice loud in the stillness of the limo we shared.

  “Father’s in recovery and Marisa is still in surgery. Doing good, Mother says.”

  Logan smoothed my hair off my forehead, tucking strands behind my ear. “How are you doing?”

  I managed a shrug. Exhaustion had rattled my brain, and every inch of me ached, especially my toes from the Jimmy Choos I’d been standing in all damn day. Twice, Logan had tried to get me to eat something, but I’d been too upset to stomach the thought of food.

  I’d wanted to escape earlier that morning—had taken steps to do so before Logan had found me. Had I not gone my own way, would I have ended up with a bullet in my body like Marisa’s? Father had called his family up on stage, I’d overheard from the non-stop chatter, and I wondered if he’d even been upset I’d disappeared.

  The first shot had come as he’d hugged Marisa. She slumped against Father, and the next shot to his shoulder spun them around and to the floor. In the pandemonium, would the shooter have attempted to take me out, too?

  Fear of future attempts on my family’s life—my life—had my tired feet itching to run even though Logan’s presence filled the rest of me with calmness.

  I couldn’t run—not with Marisa straddling the door between life and death, not with a long recovery if she survived surgery. Mother would be devastated.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Logan murmured, caressing my shoulder.

  “Can’t.”

  “Here,” Greed said.

  Logan reached forward, his stomach pressing into the back of my head, but I couldn’t even open my eyes to see what for.

  Glass clinked and liquid poured.

  “Giada?” Logan touched a glass to my limp hand, and I roused my eyelids.

  Father’s cognac he kept in the back of his car.

  I propped up on my elbow and swallowed the flowery liquid down, feeling the coolness slide all the way into my stomach. Handing back the empty glass, I snuggled against Logan’s thigh once more and shut my eyes.

  Logan had kept me from seeing Marisa—thank fuck. Nightmares of Cristian were bad enough. I didn’t need real images flashing through my brain. I’d seen Mother, though, pale as a ghost, her makeup streaked down her cheeks and smeared around her eyes. She’d given me one, hard hug upon finding me uninjured, but she’d gone back to Father’s side as he ranted and raved at the EMTs and law enforcement, trying unsuccessfully to quiet him.

  Logan had gotten an earful about not doing the job he’d been hired to do—and he strode away from those of us still in the hall the second the EMTs wheeled Father away.

  Instantly, my body had tensed, my heart seized, and I’d hurried after him.

  He hadn’t been able to rid himself of me after that. He’d been all business, his face a mask, cold and unfeeling, but I didn’t take it personally.

  Darkness crept in around the edges of my mind, and I gave over with a sigh.

  It seemed seconds later that someone whispered my name, rousing me enough to realize the car no longer moved beneath me.

  Home. Finally.

  I pushed up from Logan’s lap, blinking in the floodlights spilling from the front of my parents’ house. Not home. I hadn’t thought to ask where Logan would take me, but I shouldn’t have been surprised considering his determination to do his job.

  Logan opened the door, and cold air blasted me in the face, but I slid toward his outstretched hand, squeezing it tight.

  “Shoes,” I muttered, my teeth starting to chatter.

  “I’ll grab them,” Greed said from behind me. “Got your coat and purse, too.”

  Logan swept me up into his arms, and I burrowed in close, his shoes scuffing the pavers leading to the stairs. The door swished open as though someone had opened it for us—probably Father’s driver—and I sighed at the warmth of the foyer.

  I expected to be set on my feet, but Logan carried me up the stairs to my bedroom.

  Greed followed us in, putting my purse on the dresser and shoes beside it. “I’ll take first watch,” he said quietly, and shut the door behind him.

  Logan sat me on the edge of the bed, and I stared bleary-eyed as he rummaged through the dresser.

  “T-shirt,” I muttered, and he grabbed one out of the next drawer.

  “Want to shower first?” he asked, turning toward me with the shirt.

  I shook my head and closed my eyes as he knelt before me. With gentle fingers, he removed my blouse and bra, and slipped the shirt over my head. I fell back onto the soft mattress, and he shimmied my skirt down my legs.

  “Under the covers, Giada.”

  I blinked away the sleep that had begun taking me under again. “Gotta text Mother,” I said, crawling under the comforter Logan held back for me.

  “Already did.”

  My face hit my pillow, and I groaned, the softness and warmth of my blankets drawing me under.

  Sudden fear of sleep, of nightmares, jolted me awake, and I turned my head enough to peer up at him. “Don’t leave me,” I whispered.

  “I’ll stay.”

  Another sigh at his promise, and I drifted away into darkness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Stone

  I sprawled in an arm chair pulled close to Giada’s bed, my focus on her face every second I wasn’t group texting Greed, Warden, and Sin. Two of Burtonelli’s guards had sat up front in the limo, and the second car along with the Burtonelli’s other guard and Sin had gone straight into Boston to help watch over the rest of the family.

  Warden—although the judge had screamed about firing Tellier Security while the EMTs wheeled him outdoors, had gone in the chopper.

  The other guards along with Sin had gone straight into Boston to check on the Burtonelli’s security at the hospital. Leaving that mess to Warden, I settled into the chair and finally closed my eyes.

  Having been on high alert for most of the day, I expected to pass the fuck out knowing I could trust Greed to hold the locked-down fort.

  No press, no family, no friends other than Burtonelli and his wife, were allowed past the driveway’s gate. I expected the news channels had exploded, but couldn’t find it in myself to give a shit.

  While we’d kept the truth from the FBI about knowing exactly who put out the hit on the Burtonelli family, my brothers and I hadn’t had a chance to discuss what to do about it.

  Keeping our secret intel quiet seemed appropriate at the time, but I needed to talk to Vigil. Having almost lost the man I’d been hired to protect, never mind his daughter, I’d about had
enough.

  Pop’s voice echoed in my head all fucking day long, and keeping the shit of my brain from showing on my face had wiped me out.

  No good. Failure.

  Perhaps allowing the FBI to take over would be best. Burtonelli had fired Tellier Security—even though his house guards had begged—insisted we continue on regardless of the judge’s rants until the family all returned home and things calmed down.

  Warden had downright ignored the judge’s words and climbed into the chopper before takeoff. He wouldn’t allow the events of the day to tarnish his company’s reputation. He would stick like stink on shit unless Burtonelli ordered the law to physically remove him.

  I let out a heavy exhale and focused on Giada’s face. I’d dimmed the overheads enough she could sleep but I could keep watch over her. She hadn’t left my side all day, hanging onto me as though I was her anchor in the stormy seas of the day’s events.

  Even though I’d failed at being the knight in shining armor she seemed to think of me as, I couldn’t help the sense of satisfaction her trust and taking comfort in my presence brought.

  It was almost enough to do away with Pop’s voice, but not quite.

  She whimpered and rolled, and I sat forward, watching as emotions flitted over her face in sleep. Furrowed brow. Downturned lips. Cheek twitches. Another whimper.

  “Logan,” she muttered in her sleep, and the need to comfort her brought me to my feet.

  I stripped down and slid beneath her blankets, gently pulling her into my arms.

  Lilacs and vanilla swarmed over me as I pressed my lips against her hair. “Shh.”

  She let out a shuddered sigh and clutched at me, her breathing regulating within seconds.

  I closed my eyes and soaked in her trust. Her scent. The warmth of her body with a mere t-shirt between our chests. The truth of exhaustion rolled over me as I realized my dick didn’t even twitch.

  Knowing Greed sat downstairs and the family’s guard had second watch, I meditated on quiet and peace, clearing my mind so sleep would come. At least that part of my self-control still sat intact in my goddamn head.

  ****

  I woke quickly, alert—same as every morning—taking stock of my surroundings, the sounds and scents.

  Silence met my ears. Coffee brewed somewhere far away.

  I lay facing Giada, my arms still around her.

  And my dick was hard, pressed against the inside of her thigh.

  Fuck.

  I wasn’t about to pull away and wake her, though.

  Makeup from the day before still smeared over Giada’s face, and I cursed myself for not helping her clean up before going to bed. A sigh parted her lips, snagging my gaze, and she shifted, rubbing her soft skin against my aching dick.

  Her long eyelashes fluttered—and her eyes opened. She blinked twice, focusing on my face.

  “Hey,” I whispered, dancing my fingertips down her spine.

  “Mmm.” She rubbed her lips together and arched her back, stretching, blinking again as my dick jerked against her thigh. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating.

  Goddamn, this woman.

  I had zero control when it came to Giada Burtonelli. Zero. Zilch. Not a fucking ounce of the self-control I’d honed over my many years of karate and meditation.

  A soft smile flitted over her lips as she pressed closer once more, all sweet curves and sleepy warmth.

  Fuck it.

  I took her mouth, morning breath be damned, losing myself within a heartbeat of her tongue sliding along mine.

  Rolling her beneath me had her sighing around our fused lips, and I settled between her spread thighs.

  My dick leaked onto the sheets, and I tore myself away, sitting back on my haunches.

  I gathered the hem of her shirt in my hands and paused.

  She sat up, helping me rid her of the rumpled t-shirt before shimmying out of her panties.

  Planking over her, I took her mouth again, and groaned as she wrapped her long legs around me and pulled me closer.

  “Need you,” she whispered against my mouth.

  I’d gone beyond need, and nearly busted a nut while sliding deep inside her wet warmth with one slow thrust.

  I cradled her face in my hands, breathing her in, tasting her, memorizing every sensation of softness, slick tightness, whispered sighs and moans.

  Fucking heaven. Perfection.

  Mine.

  I made love to Giada, slow enough to drive us both insane, and we climaxed together, our hearts pounding between the skin and bone separating them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Giada

  A shudder rippled over me, an aftershock of the most intense orgasm of my life, one brought on slowly. Gently. Logan hadn’t fucked me, he’d made love to me, and holy hell, did my body respond.

  My emotions were tangled in a mess, too.

  Growing love for him battled my loyalty to my family and a father who would never approve of Logan Stone.

  His heavy body draped over me began to steal my breath, and I tapped his back where I’d dug my fingernails in moments earlier. “Can’t breathe.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered, rolling away, his cock slipping from my body.

  I moved with him, throwing my leg over his, keeping him close as I could—for as long as I could.

  It wouldn’t last, I knew.

  Father would be home sooner than later—

  I jerked upright and hurried to my dresser.

  “Phone’s over here,” Logan said, spinning me back around.

  Cum slid down my thighs, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. I grabbed my cell off the bed stand and swiped the screen on.

  Mother: Marisa out of surgery. Doctor expects full recovery.

  I choked on a sob and sank to the edge of the bed, tears welling in my eyes. “She’s going to be okay.”

  Logan wrapped his arms around me, and I let him hold me one last time.

  We’d had a moment to live the fantasy that would haunt me forever, and I took every last second of comfort I could from his arms while I had the chance.

  ****

  Father and Mother returned in early afternoon, and for once, he didn’t bark or bitch at me while making his way up to their bedroom. Mother got him settled before coming back out, dark circles under her eyes, her shoulders slumped.

  After catching me up on details concerning my sister in the ICU and her plans to return later in the day—which I argued over—Mother shut herself in their bedroom to shower and catch a small nap.

  Logan and Greed took off for a few hours, leaving my family in the care of two of our family guards. The third still sat at the hospital with Marisa.

  Silence settled over the house, and I roamed aimlessly, unable to focus on anything, even reading. I missed Cristian’s laughter. Hell, I even missed the golden girl’s meek presence.

  The house was too big, too empty, the opposite of my heart and mind. Depression crept along the edges of my conscious, and I expected I’d be living with that defeating enemy for some time.

  Greed returned around dinner time—alone, unfortunately.

  “He’ll be back in the morning,” he said, winking while strolling in the front door while I’d glanced behind him.

  My face heated, and I lifted my chin as though I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Bummed even more, I sauntered toward the kitchen, my empty stomach needing something even though I didn’t have any desire to eat.

  Mother returned a few hours later, once visiting hours ended, and we settled in the living room with glasses of wine, something I hadn’t done with her in years. She still appeared exhausted, circles under her eyes and all, but the tension had left her shoulders.

  “They’re going to keep her sedated for a few more days, but the swelling has already gone down considerably. They’re hopeful there won’t be any permanent brain damage.”

  True relief rushed through me. I might not care for my sister most of the time, but I had no wish for her to suffer any
long term effects from the shooting.

  “How are you holding up?”

  My focus jerked toward my mother. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d cared enough to ask. “I’m thoroughly wrecked. An emotional overloaded basket case. Can’t sleep. Don’t want to eat. Depressed...”

  A sad smile lifted Mother’s lips, and the empathy, the feelings of being in the same boat, eased the ache in my heart the slightest bit.

  “I see the way you look at him.”

  My heart stuttered and kicked back into gear with a small shot of adrenaline. I sipped to hide sudden nervousness. “Hmm?”

  “Logan Stone,” Mother said quietly, her focus unwavering from my face as she lifted her glass to her lips. “I see the way he looks at you, too.”

  Good fucking God—Mother couldn’t keep a damn thing from my father.

  “Oh?” I managed to squeak.

  “I also saw the way he followed you out of the hall yesterday. Where were going, anyway?”

  “Bathroom,” I half-choked and cleared my throat before taking a big gulp of wine.

  Mother hadn’t ever been too intuitive, but perhaps her motherly instinct was working overtime after losing one of her babies and almost losing a second.

  “Your father will disown you if he learns of the affair.”

  I steeled my face to remain impassive. “I’m not having an affair with Logan Stone.”

  One of her unpainted eyebrows arched as she sipped again. “There are cameras throughout the entire house now, Giada. Your father’s men are very loyal to him—but with his health right now, one of the guards brought the information to me instead.”

  “What information?”

  “That Logan Stone exited your bedroom this morning right after his shift began.”

  I opened my mouth, but Mother held up her hand.

  “Don’t bother. The guard rewound to the night before when he’d carried you up there. Greed shut you both in—and that door didn’t open again until this morning.”

  “I asked him to stay because I was scared half to death.”

  Mother studied me long enough I shifted beneath her stare and finally focused on my wine for another healthy swig. “I have to tell your father.”