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

by Cassie Wild

  You doing anything today?

  Her answer came almost instantly.

  Working until 3!

  Too much to hope we could both have the day off. Oh, well.

  Want to get some coffee afterward? Maybe go to the bookstore?

  She sent me back a smiley emoticon and a thumbs up. Immediately after, though, came the questions.

  How are you doing? OK?

  I hesitated, not entirely sure how to answer that. After considering it for a few seconds, I finally sent back an abbreviated version.

  Cormac and I are talking again. But my head is all messed up, and I need to talk to somebody. Hope you’re ready to be a sounding board.

  As I waited for her answer, I took another sip of my coffee.

  That’s what friends are for, right? You want to pick me up?

  We agreed on a time, and I put the phone down, thoughts already turning inward.

  Instead of coffee and the bookstore, we ended up hitting a Mexican place. I needed a margarita, and I was craving tacos. I hadn’t eaten much since Cormac and I had the fight, but ever since last night, my appetite had come roaring back with a vengeance.

  Anneke was always in the mood for tacos, she assured me after I suggested the change in plans, so after debating on which place to hit, I nosed the car into the heavy traffic on her street, and we headed off.

  By silent agreement, we kept the conversation light during the drive and as we waited to be seated. Once we had a pitcher of margaritas in front of us, we filled our glasses and clinked them together.

  “So,” Anneke said studying at me over her rim. “You two are talking again. This is like some sort of daytime drama. You’re the sexy, rich doctor and he’s the gruff rough-and-tumble tattooed bad boy. Who needs TV when I’ve got this in my life?”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re awful cocky and confident lately.”

  “No choice.” She shrugged a shoulder and looked away. “Without you being around, I figured I could either develop a backbone or just let those jerks walk all over me. I figured out which one would make me less miserable, and after a few stammering, stuttering days…it got easier.”

  “Good for you.” I smiled, happy for her.

  “Now…” She pointed a finger at me. “Talk.”

  I took a healthy swallow of the tart, ice-cold beverage, the smile fading from my face. Putting the drink down, I braced my elbows on the table and met her eyes. “Where do I even start?”

  “The beginning is usually a pretty good place.”

  I sighed. The beginning. What was the beginning?

  I wanted to tell her everything, but I was still leery about saying too much about my family. I’d told her enough already, and if she went digging around, she could probably find out a lot more—more than what I probably knew. Whether it was loyalty to my family or some kernel of shame or even both, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her everything.

  But without telling her everything about my family, how could I explain the mess with Jerrel and Cormac?

  Vague, I told myself. Just keep it vague.

  “I found out that there are some things Cormac might have been lying to me about,” I said hesitantly.

  Her brows shot up. “What? Is…is he like married? Got a few kids?”

  “No.” I laughed. “No. Nothing like that.”

  That would have been easier. I would have booted his ass to the curb and not feel the least bit disturbed by it.

  “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

  “It’s…complicated.” Making a face, I waved my hand. “I wanted a few days to think everything through, then I’d talk to him. But he showed up at work and saw me walking with another doctor who’d just ended his shift the same time as me. Dr. Moyes.”

  She took a sip from her drink, listening. “And…” she prompted.

  “He gets all crazy jealous and acts like an ass, then I embarrass myself…” I blushed even thinking about it and decided to gloss over that part altogether. “And we didn’t talk about what I’d heard. The next day, he sends me flowers, with this card that says he’d been a jealous asshole and he was sorry, he just got self- conscious seeing me with a doctor, and he didn’t react well.”

  “What happened next?”

  I shot her a nervous look. “I’ve had guys flake out on me before over stuff like that...” My words faded as my cheeks flamed hot. I couldn’t even explain it well.

  But I didn’t need to. Anneke reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’re not the only one, Briar,” she said, her other hand joining the first to envelop mine between them. “And I’m not even super-freak smart.” She added on a wag of her eyebrows to let me know she was teasing.

  It surprised a laugh out of me. “So, it’s like reasonable then?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, letting me go to grab onto her glass once again.

  I licked my lips, uncertain how to go forward. “I just…I don’t know if I can entirely believe him. About anything. We talked, and I told him to come over, and I told him about this shit I’d heard. There’s this guy he knows…he came by to see me and he told me some stuff about Cormac. If it’s true…”

  I trailed off, and Anneke held up a hand. “Have you talked to Cormac about this?”

  “Yeah.” Miserable, I stared at her. “That’s what we talked about last night. I just…I don’t know if I believe him.”

  “Why not?” she asked gently.

  “Because some of what this other guy told me made sense.” It didn’t sound as concrete now that I actually put it all in words. Still, I pressed on. “There have been these little things that Cormac has said or done that makes me think maybe he isn’t being entirely upfront with me.”

  Anneke shook her head. “Then you ask him about it. Confront him. Get answers. But relationships don’t thrive where there is mistrust. I mean, come on. How would you feel if he had doubts about you and instead of coming to you, he just believes it? Wouldn’t you rather he come and talk to you?”

  I scowled at her. “You know, I kinda miss the days when I was the one giving you logical advice.”

  “Don’t worry.” She snorted. “I’m sure those days aren’t gone. And I kind of like being the one offering advice for a change.”

  Later that night, belly full of tacos and head full of Anneke’s advice and my own doubts, I sank into a tub of hot water to brood.

  Anneke wasn’t wrong.

  I mean, there were all sorts of things that Cormac could have heard about me and assumptions he could have made. If he came to some sort of assumption about me and wouldn’t talk to me, I would be hurt.

  I couldn’t just take Jerrel at his word. Maybe I hadn’t had many relationships, but I knew Anneke was right—relationships couldn’t thrive on mistrust.

  I took a sip from the glass of ice water I poured myself and sank a little deeper into the steaming, scented water while sweat beaded on my forehead.

  Cormac hadn’t called today, but he had sent me some messages. I texted him back, and we managed to set up plans for dinner together tomorrow.

  Maybe what I needed to do was just give things a little bit of time and see how everything played out.

  I mean, really, all in all, we hadn’t known each other all that long. A couple of months.

  We needed to get to know each other better, and we needed to spend more time together out of the bedroom.

  And out of each other’s pants, I thought with a rueful grin.

  Ten

  Cormac

  I’d had the headache from hell ever since I pulled out of Briar’s driveway. For a few brief seconds, it relented as I read the text she sent me in response to mine, but the moment I put my phone away, the headache returned in full, glorious bloom.

  I couldn’t help but brood and worry about all the problems at my feet, and now I had to deal with what she was going to do when she realized I had lied to her.

  And she would find out. It was becoming more and more obvious that I wouldn’t be a
ble to keep all of this from her.

  It was going to seriously suck because I could see it in her eyes that she had feelings for me. I could no longer deny the fact that I cared for her too.

  I didn’t give a damn how much I ended up hurt over this, but I’d crawl over broken glass to keep Briar from being hurt.

  Problem was, I just couldn’t see how I could avoid that, even if I was able to just find something I could turn over to Marcos about her brothers or her father. Marcos might consider the job done, but whatever I gave the bastard, he’d use to hurt her brothers and her father, and that would hurt her because she loved her family.

  “So what in the hell are you going to do about it?” I mumbled.

  “Talking to yourself?” Jorge asked me from across the room.

  The client he was working on laughed. “Shit, half the time the only way you can get decent conversation is if you are talking to yourself.”

  “The man knows what he’s talking about, Jorge.” I gestured to his client, lying face down on the padded bench. “Especially when you’re around.”

  “Don’t talk to me and distract me,” Jorge said, pausing long enough to flip me the bird with an ink-stained, gloved hand. “You’ll interrupt me, and this man will end up with a cute little tabby cat instead of a tiger.”

  “Girls love tabby cats,” I said with a sober face. “They absolutely adore them.”

  The client snorted. “If I end up with a tabby cat, Jorge, I’m gonna bust your ass.”

  Jorge laughed, the sound like a maniacal hyena.

  We all knew there was no way a tabby cat would end up on the big bastard’s back. Jorge had talented hands.

  As they went on exchanging insults, I flipped through a magazine, trying to distract myself. The sound of a high, squeaky laugh drifted from the back hall, and I grimaced before I could stop myself.

  A moment later, Melia entered the main room of the tattoo shop, and I glanced up at her as she called out in a bright, vivacious voice, “Good afternoon!”

  She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was buttoning her shirt. Behind her, Jerrel hitched up his pants. Both of them shot looks my way.

  It was clear that Melia wanted some sort of reaction.

  I gave her one. A bored stare.

  Her cheeks flushed, and she turned on her heel, stalking over to her workstation. She set about getting it ready for her first client, slamming trays and checking her supplies, all while grumbling under her breath. Jorge glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I kept my expression blank.

  “Where the hell is my client?” she snapped, turning to glare at me.

  “Not due in for fifteen minutes.”

  She swore again and turned back to her station, grabbing a bottle of disinfectant and spraying down the padded seat.

  Jerrel walked over to her. She paused as he approached, then stopped to smile at him. He dipped his head to murmur in her ear, and she giggled, her snarl replaced by a smile.

  He stroked a hand down her back, letting it come to a stop just above her ass. She leaned against him, rubbing her cheek against his chest. After a few seconds, she pulled away and beamed at him.

  He headed into the back room without giving me so much as a look.

  After a few minutes, I pushed off the stool and went over to talk to her.

  “I’m probably wasting my breath.”

  She looked at me and fluttered her lashes. “Oh, you’re gonna talk to me now? You’ve ignored me for weeks, and now, all of a sudden, you wanna talk to me? Well, too bad. I found a guy who treats me right. You’re out of luck.”

  I managed, barely, not to roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of her words. “That’s just it. You can’t trust Jerrel any farther than you can throw him. He uses people, then throws them out like garbage when he’s done. You’ve known him longer than I have. Surely you know how he is.”

  She threw her hair back with a toss of her head and sniffed. “I know he treats me like a lady. He doesn’t just use me and kick me out of his bed as if I was only good enough for a fuck.” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down.

  Shit. Keeping my voice much lower, I moved in closer. “I made it clear to you before we did a single thing that I was only interested in sex, and that there probably wouldn’t be a repeat. I gave you a chance to walk. You didn’t. So you can’t blame me for your hurt feelings. I told you what I was about.”

  Melia didn’t appear to be at all concerned with airing dirty laundry though. She jabbed me in the chest. “What you’re about? You fucked me, then treated me like a stranger!”

  “We are strangers,” I pointed out. Why had I bothered?

  “I tried to be nice to you, to be your friend.” She sniffed dramatically.

  “Nice revisionist history you’ve got there,” I said coolly. “But that’s not how it went down, and you know it. We both wanted to get laid, and that’s what happened. I wasn’t looking for a friend or a girlfriend, and I told you that. You were fine with that when I laid down the rules. Blame yourself for thinking you could change my mind.” I shot a look toward the back hall where Jerrel had disappeared. “And if you want to get caught up in his toxic circle? Hell. I tried to warn you.”

  I was on my way back to the front desk when the man in question appeared in the doorway.

  “I need a word with you, Cormac.”

  I faced him straight on and considered telling him to go fuck himself, but in the end, figured it wasn’t worth the headache.

  I followed him down the hall to Rudy’s office. He went inside but didn’t bother going behind the desk. He barred the chairs, which meant I wouldn’t be taking a seat. I took that as a good thing. This wouldn’t be a long discussion.

  “You can collect your stuff,” he announced in a flat voice. “You’re done with the Castellanos, and Rudy never really needed you around here, so…you’re done. As far as the main reason you were here? Remember what I said. I’m taking over. Briar is my concern now.”

  I stared him down, refusing to let all the words that wanted to escape me get past my teeth.

  His eyes narrowed even more. “Did you hear me?”

  “My hearing is just fine,” I told him.

  “Then go on,” he said, nodding at the door. “Get your shit and get out.” I continued to eye him, remembered anger surging up inside. A faint smile curled his lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of that sexy lady doc.”

  Instead of flattening him the way I wanted to, I hooked my thumbs in the front pockets of my jeans and asked, “Is this word coming down from Marcos?”

  “Nah, man. The tooth fairy.” He bared his teeth at me in a vicious imitation of a smile. “Who the fuck you think is behind this?”

  “Well, that’s why I’m asking. I’m not going to pretend that you haven’t been trying to run the show from day one. But you and I both know he’s the one who’s in charge.” I gave him a slow smile. “You just like to pretend you are.”

  He jabbed his thumb toward his chest. “I’m the guy he put in charge. Me.”

  “Yeah. That makes him the one in charge, Jerrel.”

  His eyes spat ugly fire.

  “You didn’t answer me. Does Marcos know that you’re taking over or did you just decide that was how you want to handle it?”

  “I already answered that question.” He sneered at me.

  But he hadn’t. I had a feeling he wouldn’t.

  “Go on,” he said, gesturing to the back door. “Get the hell out. You know, if you hadn’t been so caught up in rich pussy, you would have seen this coming. But that’s the whole problem. That bitch has got you wrapped, and you ain’t doing your job.”

  I gave him a long look, then turned and left.

  Yeah, I’d get the hell out.

  But I wasn’t going very far.

  Eleven

  Briar

  Slumping behind the nurse’s station, I gulped down some badly needed coffee. It had long since gone cold. It didn’t matter. My brain was still half-a
sleep, and my belly was an empty hole. I needed either food or coffee—both would be appreciated, but I wouldn’t be picky.

  I’d expected to be off today. It wasn’t my usual day for it, but with the holidays approaching and some of the staff traveling, I was working in a few extra days and taking off on others to make the schedule work. So I’d planned on sleeping in and enjoying a lazy day, maybe wrapping up my shopping.

  Then the stupid phone rang, and Raisa’s panicked voice pulled me out of dreamland.

  One of the surgeons was out sick with food poisoning. Could I come in and cover?

  The energy bar I’d eaten on the way out the door hadn’t done much to energize me, and the jump of energy I’d gotten from the coffee earlier had long since faded.

  I glanced at my watch and decided I was going to sneak off for my break a little early.

  Just as I made that decision, somebody called out, “Dr. Downing!”

  The cheer in the voice made me tired. I was too worn out for cheerful. Some people were morning people. Not me. Granted, it was past eleven, so it wasn’t like it was early, but that wasn’t the point. “I need more caffeine,” I muttered as I scanned the buzzing emergency department.

  Kris, one of the assistants who manned the front desk, waved at me.

  She had that familiar wide grin on her face as she approached. “I think I figured out why you didn’t say anything. If I had a sexy thing like that, I’d keep him all to myself too.”

  “Huh?” I blinked at her.

  She laughed, the bright giggles practically assaulting me. “Your guy. Let me guess…he’s big, tattooed, reddish-brown hair, got a rough sort of bad-boy look going on?”

  Cormac.

  I didn’t say anything, just arched a brow.

  She huffed out a sigh. “You are no fun. He’s out front. Pacing a hole through the floor, and I think he’s making the security guards nervous. He wanted to come back here, and I had to give him the whole patient confidentiality thing. You got a few minutes to go out and talk to him?”