by Kelsie Rae
Not sure how much I like being the scapegoat for him, but any soldier would take the fall for their family, and I’m not any different. I just hope he’ll start to recognize my loyalty as being absolute so that he finally gives me a chance with his sister.
I won’t hold my breath, though.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “I understand.”
“Good.”
The call disconnects. When I drop my arm back to my side, I see Stefan sauntering toward me. “Lou says the kid is at school today, so there shouldn’t be any issues. Who were you talking to?”
“Kingston. Seems we have a friend in our trunk that needs disposing of after this.”
Raising his chin in understanding, Stefan mutters, “Then let’s get this shit taken care of.”
And he walks past me, leaving me no choice but to follow.
As I rip a sheet off the king-sized bed, I notice Johnson’s blood splattered across a family photo resting on the nightstand.
“How old is his kid?” I ask Stefan while examining the picture. I’ve only seen him a handful of times, but it had always been under circumstances where he was scared out of his mind, and he looked like a little mouse who was about to shit his pants. In the photo, he looks like a regular kid with mussed up hair and a wide smile. It’s too bad his dad was a fucker who apparently liked to buy women on the side and needed to be disposed of. We couldn’t have him sniffing around for his fruit, now could we? Regardless, I hope he has better luck than I did growing up, but I’m not betting any money on it.
Stefan shrugs. “I think Lou said ten.”
Withholding my dry laughter, I toss the white sheet on top of the dead body strewn across the bedroom floor.
Of course, he is.
“Let’s wrap him up then get out of here. I’ll send a cleaning crew to wipe for prints, but I’m not sure we can do much about the soaked carpet.”
“Yeah, blood’s a bitch to get out,” I agree.
Smirking, Stefan quips, “Kingston and Diece both say the same thing.”
“That’s ‘cause they’ve done this a time or two.” I lift Johnson’s shoulder and tuck the sheet beneath the life-taking wound in the back of his skull to prevent any more blood from dripping all over the floor. Stefan gets on the opposite side, lifting his legs while I grip under his armpits.
Man, this asshole is heavy.
“So…how long have you been in the family?” I ask, making conversation.
“A while. I heard about the flashy party they’re throwing you, by the way. Usually, they only hold them for the bigwigs, or they wait until there’s a big enough group of soldiers being welcomed into the fold to justify the chaos. You nervous?”
With a shrug, I guide us out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the first floor. “I don’t know. Should I be?”
“Meh.” He mirrors my earlier movement and shrugs. “You’ll be fine. Just be careful who you talk to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every man there is trying to marry off their daughter. If you’re caught looking at one for too long, or even offer a generic smile to the wrong, desperate girl, they’ll be all over you like white on rice trying to pawn themselves off.”
Grimacing, I glance over my shoulder to make sure I don’t run into anything as I walk down the stairs backward.
“I heard Kingston invited Regina,” Stefan continues.
Hearing her name amplifies the dull ache in my chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that out of the norm for her to attend one of these things?”
“Yeah. The Allegrettis were blacklisted, which is why you never attended a gathering, but Regina was always tucked away in her room to prevent anyone from snapping a picture to reveal her true identity.”
“Since that strategy worked so well in the first place,” I add sarcastically before stepping out into the morning air. The body swings from side to side as we approach the car.
Stefan chuckles with me. “Pretty much.”
“Hmmm,” I hum. Dropping the corpse onto the ground, I open the back door to keep any of his blood from touching Burlone, then we shove him in the back seat. Wouldn’t want any cross-contamination or anything.
Once he’s situated, Stefan gets behind the steering wheel, and I slide into the front seat before he asks, “So did you know the guy well?”
I look over my shoulder to the stained sheet.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“How ‘bout his son?”
Shaking my head, I admit, “I don’t know him well, but I’ve seen him a few times. Johnson was an outlier. He didn’t have a connection to the family, initially. Hell, he approached Burlone about a year ago and slowly weaseled his way into making connections. I’ve never heard of him purchasing a girl, though, but his son was being groomed for the family.”
“They start young, don’t they?”
“We all start young. Well”—I give him the side-eye—“most of us. What the hell made you want to join the Romanos?”
Mouth quirking, he confides, “You and I aren’t that different, Dex. We were both raised in shit homes with shit moms. I realized how much I needed a family to watch my back, so I went searching for them.”
“Is that what the Romanos do?” I quip, unable to hide my disbelief. “Watch each other’s backs?”
“Yeah. They do. And once you’re initiated with the gathering, they’ll officially have yours too.”
And I want that so much that it hurts. But I want Regina more. The real question is, will I be able to have my cake and eat it too?
Turning my attention back to the road, I mutter, “I guess we’ll see.”
And all the while, an image of my Little Bird haunts me because I feel like if I have my brothers, then I’ll lose something that’s so much more important to me.
We take care of Burlone’s burial first because it’s more crucial we don’t leave any evidence of Johnson on Burlone’s body than if Johnson ends up with a little of Burlone’s blood on him. Why? Because Kingston ordered me to disclose the location of Burlone’s body to a Fed, and we don’t want it connected to Johnson’s disappearance in any way, shape, or form.
Although, as I look at Burlone’s decrepit body, a part of me wonders if anyone would be able to recognize him if we didn’t hand out the exact location of his corpse. Half his skull is missing, and what little is left of his face is bloated and black and blue. Hell, he was practically my pseudo dad, even if he was a shitty one, and I’d have a hard time placing his identity.
Hopefully, it’ll be enough to satisfy the Feds and get them off our asses now. I guess we’ll find out.
I check the text from Kingston and type in the number he’d forwarded to me. It rings three times before a foreign voice answers, “Hello?”
“It’s in the woods off 49th and Emerson Road. You’ll see a giant oak and freshly churned ground. Good luck.”
Then I disconnect the call and rub my hand across my face.
“You okay, man?” Stefan asks from the driver’s seat.
“Just tired.”
Turning on his blinker, he heads toward the location of where he’d initially told me we’d be disposing of Johnson’s body. “Then let’s get this shit done and go home.”
A comfortable silence encompasses the cab as the trees on both sides of the road blur past us. After a few minutes, Stefan breaks it with, “I uh, I wanted to thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” I ask, keeping my gaze on the lush greenery outside.
“For taking care of Regina. I was tasked with watching her, and I failed. Without you, she never would’ve made it out of there.”
His compliment makes me pause, and I rest my head against the headrest behind me, contemplating the validity of it. Would she have made it out of there? Did she really need me? And did I end up saving her, or was it the other way around?
“I did what I could,” I admit on a sigh. “But I’m not sure if I crossed the line or not in the process.”
“You mean by sleeping with her?” Stefan suggests.
My eyes pop open in surprise, but I don’t deny it.
“Regina doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do, man. Trust me. I’ve seen it firsthand. She likes you, and I don’t think you should discount that. Neither should Kingston. Now, we just have to wait and see how it all plays out.”
I roll my eyes, unable to hide my annoyance. “We already know how it’s going to play out.”
“We’ll see,” he says ominously.
And I leave it at that.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Regina
My stomach grumbles, finally getting the best of me until I find myself with my back to the kitchen in front of an open fridge showcasing my snack options. Feeling weirdly indecisive about what sounds good, it hits me.
I hadn’t been able to choose what I wanted to eat for two weeks. Dex simply brought me whatever was available, and I ate it. Things started bland, like the cool soup and tepid water. But soon, Dex was sneaking in Snickers bars and M&M’s in hopes of making me smile while attempting to help me forget about my crappy circumstances for a minute.
And it worked.
Angry, I slam the fridge closed and turn toward the stairway, determined to go sulk in my room a little longer when I run straight into a chest.
A warm, hard chest that smells a little woodsy with a side of—
“What the hell are you doing out here?” Dex’s gruff voice scolds.
With my hands pressed against his pecs, I look up and nearly crumble before realizing the guy in front of me is pissed. And I have no idea why.
“Excuse me?”
“What are you doing out here?” he repeats, trying to soften his tone by removing his initial curse from the question.
“I was hungry….” My voice trails off when I realize his hands are resting against my hips, pinning me in place.
“Do you always walk around here dressed like that?”
Looking down, I find myself in a soft, white T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. If I’m being honest, he’s seen me in a hell of a lot less.
“Dressed like what?” I question, peeking back up at him.
With a shake of his head, his jaw tightens. “I can see your fucking nipples, Regina, which means every other soldier in this house can too.”
I look down at my chest, and sure enough, they’re standing at full attention.
Oops….
Still, his tone makes me bristle, fanning the flames of bitterness that have been threatening to take hold ever since he let me walk out of Kingston’s office without bothering to fight for me.
“I’m sorry, what the hell is your problem?” I spit.
His fingers tighten against me. “Nothing.”
“Bull crap. You can’t storm in here pissed at me for no reason. You can’t make me feel like shit for wearing a freaking T-shirt in my own home. You can’t give me that cold look that reminds me of our nights together when I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out alive or not. You can’t—” A sob escapes me, cutting off my stupid chastising as I bury my face into his chest.
Whoa…emotions.
“Shh….”
I feel his chest rumble beneath my cheek, but it doesn’t stop the tears from falling.
“Where have you been?” I choke out now that the dam has finally broken. “Why didn’t you come see me? Did I really mean that little to you? Why didn’t—”
“Hell no, Little Bird. Don’t assume shit with me, okay? I’m begging you.”
“What else can I assume?” I cry, my entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind. I feel like I’m going to blow away. That I’m going to crumble beneath the pressure from someone’s boot as soon as I hit the ground. But the tree that’d been protecting me has let me go, despite my desperation to cling to it, and my descent is inevitable.
“Shh…,” he breathes, wrapping his arms around my lower back and pressing our fronts together. His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging at the roots as they massage my scalp in slow, deliberate circles.
It feels amazing, but I need answers more than I need his touch.
“Answer me,” I grit out, hating how weak I sound. I’ve never been weak. I’m the pain in the ass little sister to Kingston Romano. I’m the princess of a freaking mafia family. I’m the get-shit-done, go-in-guns-blazing kind of girl. But all of that seems to be stripped bare as I stand in front of a man who owns every piece of me.
And doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.
When he’s still silent, I repeat, “I said, answer me.”
“I love you, Little Bird.”
My chest tightens, and my fingers dig into his rumpled white shirt in an attempt to keep him from leaving me again.
“Then why are you letting my brother keep us apart?”
“I’m not,” he argues, tightening his hold. His chin brushes against the top of my head as I feel him shake his head back and forth. “I’m not, okay? But your brother’s right. You’re too good for me, Regina. I’m no one. I’m nothing. I need to make my place here so that I can earn a right to call you mine. Right now, I don’t deserve to wipe the shit off your shoes. Especially after what I put you through.”
“How can you say that?” My voice cracks again, and I hate how desperate I sound.
“Do you know what I did today?” he asks, practically giving me whiplash from his abrupt subject change. “I killed a guy. I killed a guy who had a ten-year-old kid.”
When the age dawns on me, I want to cry. “The same age you were….”
“Yeah. The same age I was when my entire world got ripped apart, and look what I just did? I gave the kid the same future as the one that was mapped out for me. These hands?” He drops them from my waist and steps away from me. “They ruined a kid’s life today. How the hell do you think they deserve holding you after what they’ve done? Do you know how many other people I have to hunt down because of the mess with Burlone, and how it might look with Kingston being the only boss to walk away? It’s a lot, Regina. But, I never cared before. I never gave a shit about any of them because I knew I only had to think about myself and my selfish ass. But now, there’s you. The sweet, sexy-as-hell girl who’s so far out of my league that I’m left scrambling because I want you with every fiber of my being, but you’ll always be just out of reach.”
The distance nearly breaks me, leaving me no choice but to rush forward and tangle our fingers together.
“What have I told you about these hands?” I cry. “They were made for me. They were made to hold me. To protect me. To care for me. Without them, I don’t even know what to eat anymore. Why can’t you see that?” Dragging my quivering lips against his busted-up knuckles, I press open-mouthed kisses to each of them.
“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t let my brother define my future. Let me choose my own path. Let me choose you.” Keeping his hands pressed against my lips, I squeeze my eyes shut. The tears stream down my cheeks and drip onto his closed fists. But it’s his presence that seems to calm my frantic soul. His ever-sturdy frame as it towers over me. Making me feel small. But precious. His lips caress my forehead in a soft kiss that turns my insides into Jell-O.
“Come here, Little Bird.”
I’m not sure I can get much closer, but I inch forward until the leather of his loafers tickles my bare toes.
“Look at me,” he orders.
I shake my head. I can’t right now. Not when I’ve bared my soul to him without knowing how he’ll respond.
“I said, look at me, Little Bird.” The commanding tone leaves me no choice but to pull my lids open. Resting my chin against our tangled fingers, I look up at him to find him staring down at me. The room is dark, having lost the only light from the refrigerator after I slammed it shut, but I can still see the shadow of the man I love shrouded in darkness. It’s fitting and reminds me of our nights together in that cold, dank basement with only a single bulb hanging from a wire as our source of light. With my recent histo
ry, I should probably be terrified and suffer a mental breakdown from the flashback. But I’m not scared when he’s around. I just wish he could see what I do when I look at him.
“I will never be good enough for you, regardless of what your brother thinks, or approves of.”
“And I will never care about what you do when you’re away from me as long as you always come back and stop punishing yourself for the shit you have to do,” I counter.
His breath fans across my face, inching closer until I’m positive he’ll put me out of my misery and release the vise he’d wrapped around my chest since the moment I stormed out of my brother’s office. Licking my lips, I raise up onto my tiptoes and—
“What the hell are you two doing?” Stefan interrupts. He keeps his voice low to prevent others from hearing, but his disapproval is apparent. As he flips the light switch on the wall, I squint and feel like I’m in the middle of being interrogated. Like I’ve been caught doing something that I’m not supposed to even when it’s the only time I actually feel like I’m doing something right with my life.
Dex, on the other hand, jumps back as if he’s been burned.
“Nothing,” he grunts before running his palm across his face. “I was just leaving.”
“And I was just getting some food, but apparently, I’m not very hungry anymore.”
Leaving Dex on his own, I step around Stefan and climb up the stairs to my room. I can’t deal with Dex if he doesn’t want to fight for me and what we could have together.
What we did have before we lost it all.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dex
I watch Regina walk away, her long legs creating more distance between us with every step. The memory of what her silky skin felt like wrapped around my waist, combined with the knowledge that I’m unable to chase her the way I want to, pisses me off. My entire body buzzes with adrenaline, and I take a step toward her without even thinking about it when Stefan grabs my forearm.
“Don’t.”