His Guilt: A Mafia Romance (Downing Family Book 6)

by Cassie Wild

  He was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Automatically, I took him in. Tall and broad—bigger than me, even. I could tell from how petite Briar looked next to him. He looked smooth and polished, with his closely cropped dark hair, rich dark skin and a long dress coat that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe—including all the clothes I’d left back in Miami. He said something to Briar, and she laughed.

  Jealousy exploded through me, and I got out of the car, slamming the door behind me. The bang echoed through the quiet lot, and as their heads turned my way, I strode toward them.

  Every muscle in my body had gone tense, and it only got worse as I caught sight of Briar’s expression.

  There was no welcoming smile, no softening of her eyes.

  In fact, the warmth that had been directed at the man at her side chilled as she caught sight of me, and I felt my temper fray even more.

  “Cormac,” she said, canting her head to the side. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  “That’s surprising, considering I texted you a good two hours ago to let you know I’d like to meet you here so we could go out for dinner. Since you never bothered to answer, I figured you were okay with the plan.”

  She brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. The expression on her face remained remote. “I spent most of the afternoon in surgery. I haven’t had much time to check messages today.”

  Her eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second, and I knew she wasn’t being entirely honest. Oh, I had no doubts she’d spent a fair amount of time in surgery. She was a fuckin’ doctor and all, but she knew I’d been texting her.

  Sliding my gaze to the man at her side, I gave him a toothy smile. “Hello.”

  “Hello.” He inclined his head, a polite smile on his face. It dawned on me where I’d seen him before. He was the doctor who first came in to treat me the night I showed up here drunk off my arse and looking for Briar.

  “Would you mind giving Briar and me a few moments, doc?”

  “Actually, Dr. Downing and I were discussing a case, Mr…” He lifted both eyebrows, the smile still firmly in place.

  Briar reached over and rested a hand on his arm. She shook her head, a sigh escaping her. “It’s okay, Terrence,” she said.

  Terrence. Why the bloody fuck is she calling him by his first name?

  I kept the question behind my teeth, but I sure as hell didn’t like it, and I didn’t like the friendliness in her tone either, especially considering how cool she was when she spoke to me.

  Calm down, the more rational part of my brain warned.

  It was hard to listen to rational as the two doctors turned and spoke to each other, both in voices too low for me to make out. Briar gave the big guy a reassuring smile and patted his arm.

  He flicked a look at me, a long, measuring gaze before he finally nodded at Briar. “You call if you need to talk, okay?”

  “Of course. Thank you. And thanks for bringing me in on that case. It was fascinating.”

  “You did good work.” He nodded at her and turned, walking away.

  Briar looked back at me. Her cheeks were flushed. I suspected it was a mix of cold and anger that brought that pretty pink color to her cheeks, and as she moved closer, I caught sight of the glitter in her eyes. Oh, yeah. She was pissed.

  “You two seemed right friendly,” I said, unable to tamp the jealousy down.

  She curled her lip at me. “We work together. That tends to happen when you’re not an asshole and don’t go picking fights with your co-workers.”

  As far as jabs went, it wasn’t subtle at all, but clearly, she wasn’t trying to be subtle.

  Since I knew I was an asshole, I didn’t let the comment concern me.

  “Is he the reason you’ve been dodging me all day?” I demanded, closing the distance between us.

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  I cupped her chin in my hand. “Yeah, seriously,” I said, mocking her scathing tone.

  “You’re a piece of work. I mean, for real. A piece of work.” She jerked away. “You have any idea how torn up I was over you? You slap at me with that comment about my brothers, and you did it just to hurt me, but you are such a hypocrite.”

  A sick feeling settled inside me, but before I could figure out what to say, she continued, her voice harsh, words coming out like jagged spikes. “I was beating myself up over all of this. I had no idea what kind of shit my brothers were involved in, but I knew it was bad. Then you throw that at me, and I start thinking about all these fights you get in…you love violence. You crave it. I had myself convinced that maybe there was something in me that thought I’d needed that in a guy. After all, it’s in my blood, right? The things I’ve learned about my family?” She laughed, and the sound broke off into something perilously close to a sob.

  Anger and frustration rose inside me, bitter, thick, and vile.

  “I was wrong. I was beating myself up over nothing. My family isn’t perfect, but there’s one very clear difference between them and you. They would never set out to hurt somebody they loved.”

  Those words caught me off-guard, raking sharp talons across my already battered heart. Defensively, I snapped, “Who in the hell said anything about love, sweetheart?”

  She jerked back as if I’d slapped her, and even as that sick sensation spread through me, her expression smoothed out and went black.

  “Absolutely nobody. You’re right. I guess I was reading more into things than was there.” Her face flushed once more, but now her cheeks were a hot, brilliant red and the glitter in her eyes had nothing to do with anger.

  The look of embarrassment and self-consciousness on her face didn’t make me feel any better, and I went to lift a hand.

  She turned away without saying another word. Meanwhile, I stood there, feeling like a complete ass with my hand outstretched.

  She climbed into her car and drove off without so much as looking at me.

  Curling my hand into a fist, I lifted my face to the sky as the first few snowflakes started to fall.

  I’d never felt so foolish, so frustrated, and so angry at myself in my entire life.

  And I had nobody to blame but myself.

  Five

  Briar

  I was barely holding it together when I pulled out of the parking lot. I had some vague idea in my head that I needed to go home, but even as I clung to the steering wheel, my hands gripping it tightly, I couldn’t quite manage to turn myself in that direction.

  I didn’t want to go back to that quiet little house where my beds were likely still a mess from the night I’d spent with Cormac, where my sheets would still smell of us and where my robe might still be strewn on the floor of the room where he’d all but devoured me.

  Devoured.

  Only hours earlier, I could have thought of that, and my heart would have raced.

  Now I was hard-pressed to even sit in my car and not quake. With shame. With hurt. With rage.

  I’d been used.

  We hadn’t even gotten around to discussing that part, but there was no denying it. I knew it as well as I knew my own name.

  Cormac had used me.

  And I’d been stupid enough to fall in love with him. I’d been stupid enough to think he’d fallen in love with me.

  A knot swelled in my chest, all but suffocating me, and I thought I just might choke as it rose up to settle in my throat. How was I going to survive this? How could I just go home, back to the place where the two of us had lain in my bed, tangled in each other, and I’d drifted off into sleep with some idea in my head that I’d found a person who…

  “Don’t,” I whispered viciously. I dashed my hands over my eyes and looked around, barely even recognizing where I was.

  I needed to make a decision.

  Go home and cry.

  Go to Dad’s house, curl up in my old bed, and cry. Hell, I could just move back in there, forget about the world for as long as I wanted. I wouldn’t even have to go back to wo
rk. I could just…exist and pretend the past couple of months hadn’t happened.

  I could tell Dad I wanted to move back home, and he’d let me. He had people who could collect all my belongings, and I wouldn’t have to lift a finger or think about a thing.

  I was even tempted. I was so tempted.

  I punched a button on my dashboard. An automated voice came out from the speakers. “Call Anneke,” I said, speaking automatically. I really couldn’t think up a better option.

  A few seconds later, a ringing sound came over the speakers, followed shortly by Anneke’s voice.

  “Hey, Briar!”

  She sounded bright and cheerful, and I almost hung up because I didn’t want to bring her down from whatever had her sounding so happy. I hesitated too long, though.

  “Briar?”

  My eyes blurred. Blinking them clear, I hit my turn signal and pulled into the parking lot closest to me without even looking at the business. With a watery laugh, I realized it was a male strip joint. A hysterical giggle bubbled in my throat, and I fought back an overwhelming urge to invite Anneke to join me for a drink.

  It wasn’t the men that interested me, though.

  There was a cheap, neon sign flashing that read HAPPY HOUR, and the thought of getting drunk and finding some brief level of oblivion appealed to me.

  I didn’t though.

  “Can I come over?” I asked, my voice ragged and hoarse. The knot in my throat made it almost impossible to get the words out, but I kept on. “Cormac and I…never mind. I just don’t want to go home. Can I bunk with you for the night?”

  “Sure.” She paused a second, and I could almost see her taking a mental tally. “My place isn’t big, but you can either sleep with me or on the sofa bed. Either way is fine with me. I actually just ordered a pizza.”

  I wasn’t even the slightest bit hungry, but Anneke liked taking care of people, and I thought maybe it wouldn’t be bad to lean on my friend for once.

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  I made the drive in a daze. I didn’t even remember taking the turn that led me to her little townhouse. She had a small unit on the second floor. The building had been a grand old mansion once back before the Great Depression hit. Sometime in the past twenty or thirty years, it had been broken up into separate units. There were six of them in all. I trudged up the outdoor steps to Anneke’s private entrance, but before I could knock, my friend opened the door.

  She took one look at me and nudged me inside. I clutched my bag against my chest like a teddy bear and looked around, feeling out of place and lost in a way I hadn’t in years.

  “Come on,” Anneke said, wrapping her arm around me. “I’ve got some pajamas for you. They’ll be baggy, but it’s just lounge pants and a t-shirt so it won’t matter. I’ll wash your clothes, and you can just wear them into work then pull on some scrubs from the hospital tomorrow, okay?”

  I let her nudge me into her small bedroom, and once alone, I stripped obediently, pulling on a silly t-shirt that had an oversized image of Donald Duck on the front. The lounge pants were decorated with smaller versions of the same. At any other time, I might have smiled at the sight of me in the mirror, but now I just stood there and stared until Anneke knocked on the door to check on me.

  I didn’t even know how much time had passed.

  “Come in,” I called out to her.

  She came into the room, a worried look on her face. “I put your clothes into the washer. I’ll get them out as soon as they’re done. The shirt is line dry. I hope it’s dry in time.”

  I shrugged listlessly. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What happened, honey?”

  I almost told her the same response…that it didn’t matter.

  But even as I opened my mouth to say the words, the ache in my chest spread, and I sagged backward. The only thing that kept me from falling on my ass was the fact that the room was barely big enough for her bed and dresser, so the bed was only a foot behind me and my hips caught on the edge.

  Anneke sat down next to me and tugged on my arm until I was more fully on the bed.

  “You need to talk,” she said simply.

  Did I?

  What good would it do?

  Turning my head, I stared at her.

  “I…” The knot in my throat swelled, all but trapping the words inside. I kept trying. “I think I made a mistake, Anneke.”

  She took my hand in hers. “Tell me what it is, and we’ll fix it.”

  The calm assurance in her voice somehow managed to soothe my ragged nerves a little bit, and I leaned against her.

  “I was an idiot to trust him.”

  She stroked her hand down my hair. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  I sniffed, uncertain how to answer that. Closing my eyes, I tried to calm the complete chaos in my head. “It’s a mess,” I whispered. “My family…Cormac. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

  “All the more reason to tell me. Maybe I can help you work through it.”

  Sniffing, I pulled back and studied her. “I’ve told you that my family has…well, they aren’t angels. They’ve made mistakes. They’ve done things that just…it’s bad shit, Anneke. I mean, bad shit. They’ve got enemies.”

  “Okay.” She brushed my hair back from my face, watching me patiently.

  Licking my lips, I looked at the window just past her shoulder. It was still snowing, and the thick, heavy wet mess was starting to cling to the window sill. I stared at the mess of it. “I don’t know if I want to talk about all of this. But Cormac…he isn’t who I thought he was.”

  Suddenly the absurdity of that got to me, and I stood up, pacing the small, tight confines. After a minute, I spun around and stared at her. “Hardly anybody in my life is who I thought they were. The only person I can really talk to anymore is you.” A ragged laugh escaped me. “Please tell me you’re not leading a secret, double life.”

  “Well…” She gave me a quick smile. “Actually, I’m a call girl on the side, and I charge my clients three thousand a night. If they don’t pay, I threaten to send pictures of us to all their loved ones.”

  I gaped at her.

  She maintained a straight face for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, sweetheart.” She got up and came over to me, pulling me up to her in a quick hug. “I’m just me. Boring old me. Yeah, I’ve got a few skeletons in my closet, but who doesn’t? My darkest secrets have to do with my family, and I can already tell that it’s something that you’d understand…wouldn’t you?” She cocked her head as she studied me.

  “Yeah.” I managed a weak smile. Part of me wanted to tell her all of it right then, right there. But I wasn’t ready to do that.

  “Come on. Let’s go eat,” Anneke said softly. “Even if all you do is nibble, that’s fine. But you need to get your mind off whatever has happened, or you need to talk about it. One or the other.”

  “Okay.” Wanly, I smiled at her. I so wasn’t ready to talk about it, so I’d pretend to eat, pretend to watch TV. Maybe if I was lucky, I could actually successfully blank my mind well enough to get some sleep. Or I could just get drunk. Thoughtfully, I looked at Anneke as we walked side by side into the small kitchen. “So, what kind of booze do you have around here?”

  “Nothing like you’re used to, rich girl,” she said with a wide grin. “But I’ve got some Jack Daniels and diet soda. Will that do?”

  I hooked my arm through hers. “That will do just fine.”

  Later, we sat in front of the TV with an episode of some goofy reality show playing across the screen. Anneke tried to catch me up on the drama, but my brain felt oddly muffled, and none of it made sense.

  I had too many other things on my mind, anyway.

  I kept thinking about Cormac. About Jerrel.

  And about my brothers.

  Part of me wanted to call Brooks and confide in him. He’d always been the one I went to when I was hurt or upset, and right now, I was both.

 
I couldn’t trust him with this, though.

  If I did, I knew what would happen.

  He’d tell the other two, and they’d go after Cormac.

  It didn’t even matter if he was working for Castellanos at this point. If my brothers realized just how hurt I was, they’d go after him for that alone.

  The credits started to roll, and Anneke turned to me.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

  “Not drunk enough,” I confessed.

  She laughed. “You don’t want to be drunk.”

  “I kind of do.” Lifting a shoulder, I looked out the window at the gently falling snow. “I’d rather not risk dreaming, and if I get drunk enough, then I won’t dream. I won’t think. I don’t want to do either.”

  “And in the morning, you’ll have a hangover, and you’ll still have to think all of this through.” She lifted a shoulder. “Is it worth it?”

  I made a face at her. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

  “As one of your best friends,” she reminded me. “It’s my job to bring you down to reality.”

  “Oh, hush.” Sighing, I slumped on the couch, staring disinterestedly at the commercial flickering across the screen. “Maybe I should just go take a month-long vacation.”

  “And lose your job?”

  “I don’t want logic.”

  “But you do want your job.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “I do. So I guess I better go to sleep.”

  Six

  Cormac

  I spent a miserable night in a miserable motel on a miserable bed that felt like it was masquerading as a bed of rocks. There was no way I was going back to the room over the tattoo shop. That would just be asking for trouble. I had no idea if Jerrel was telling the truth. I wouldn’t trust that asshole any farther than I could throw him.

  If Marcos had decided he was done with me, though, I wouldn’t put it past him to just decide he was done with me—permanently. So it was in my best interest to avoid places where he could easily find me for the time being.