The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  My daughter.

  I tell myself I’ve lived a lot of life in twenty-six years but watching that little girl sleep, knowing she is mine, it made me think I hadn’t lived much at all.

  I couldn’t peel my eyes from her and while I sat in this rocking chair, I wished for her to wake up, desperate to see her open her eyes, anxious to hear her little voice. She slept through the night and somewhere along the way I must have fallen asleep staring at her.

  A soft giggle pulls my attention toward the door and I fight for focus. Pushing off the rocking chair, I follow the sound as quietly as possible, careful not to disturb the two beauties sitting at the kitchen table. Something pulls inside my chest as I watch Celeste dip a spoon into a bowl, lift it in the air and make a ridiculous sound that entices another giggle from Skylar.

  “More,” Skylar says, laughing as she opens her mouth for another spoonful.

  Obliging, Celeste feeds her another spoonful and Skylar claps her chubby little hands in glee.

  “All done,” Celeste announces. Leaning forward, she runs a hand over Skylar’s curls and presses her lips to her forehead.

  Without trying these two girls steal my breath and make me want so much more. More of this.

  Sensing me, Celeste lifts her head and turns to me. Rooted in place, my eyes silently question hers as to where we go from here. She was amazing last night, leaving me alone with Skylar, giving me a chance to soak in her beauty, but we didn’t discuss how to proceed. We left everything in the air, deciding we’d take it as it comes.

  “Kitty!” Skylar says breaking the awkward silence as she points to the tiger tattooed on my abdomen. “Mama, look.”

  “That’s a panther, baby. Can you say panther?”

  “Roar!”

  My lips quirk and I find myself walking into the kitchen straight for them.

  My girls.

  Pulling out a chair, I sit on the other side of Skylar’s high chair and watch as her blue eyes widen.

  “God, you’re pretty,” I whisper.

  She lifts her cup and pushes it toward me.

  “Dink,” she orders.

  I take the cup and glance over at Celeste.

  “She wants you to drink,” she clarifies.

  Looking back at Skylar, I smile at her before tipping my head back and pretend to drink from her cup.

  She giggles. Shit, that sound, best thing I ever heard.

  “More!”

  I do it again and this time Celeste laughs too. I decide in this moment that I’ll sit here all day, every day pretending to drink from a Minnie Mouse cup if I can hear the melody of their laughter. However, after a few more times Skylar gets bored and holds out her arms to Celeste. Placing the cup on the table, I watch as she washes her off and lifts her from the high chair. The two of them walk into the living room and I wonder how I didn’t notice all the toys cluttering the room. Skylar runs to the little pretend kitchen in the corner and forgets about me and her mom.

  Taking my eyes off her is a hardship but when Celeste sits in front of me, I reluctantly do so.

  Not a bad sight either.

  This easily shapes up to be the best morning of my life.

  “How’s your shoulder?” she questions, pushing a cup of coffee in front of me.

  “I’ll live,” I answer, wrapping my hand around the mug. I can’t help myself and I find my eyes drifting back to Skylar. “She’s perfect,” I blurt.

  “We might be biased,” she teases, sipping her coffee.

  “Thank you for last night,” I tell her, turning back to face her.

  “You’re welcome,” she replies softly, casting her eyes down to the steam lifting from her mug. “I’m not sure what happens next,” she admits after a moment. “I think we both know a decision needs to be made, and it’s yours to make.”

  “I want to know her, Celeste,” I reply without hesitation. “As selfish as that is, I want to know everything about her, even the shit I missed.”

  Running my fingers through my hair I glance back at her and release a sigh.

  “I’m not a good man, made a ton of mistakes and I’ll probably keep making them because it’s all I know. I’m not going anywhere, Cel. I want to be that girl’s daddy. I want it more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. Even more than revenge. I don’t know how to do that though. I don’t know how to make my life fit hers, but I’m willing to put in the work.”

  I lay my hands on the table and lean forward so our eyes are level.

  “Told you I would come back.”

  “Yeah, you did,” she whispers.

  “A little banged up,” I say, pointing to my shoulder. “But I’m here nonetheless.”

  Raking my eyes over her, my lips twitch.

  “Lucky for me, my baby mama is a nurse and patched me right up.”

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t work cheap. I’ll be sending you a bill for my services,” she teases, jutting her chin toward the couch. “And one for my couch too.”

  A chuckle escapes me as I reach across the table and grab her hand. Pulling her to her feet, I tug her until she’s standing in front of me. I place my hands on her hips and lift my head.

  “I’ll buy you a new couch,” I promise, pressing my thumbs into her hips.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Not really,” I tell her as I pull her onto my lap. “It’s too small for me and seeing as I’ll be spending a lot of time here I’m going to need something bigger.”

  Winding her arms around my neck she touches her forehead to mine.

  “Did I say you could stay here?”

  “I didn’t ask,” I retort gruffly, squeezing her ass in my hands. “Problem?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she whispers, rocking her hips against me. Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I press my mouth against her and suck on her soft skin.

  “Do you have work today?” I ask against her skin. She replies with a breathy moan and I let my hands glide under her t-shirt. “That my answer?”

  “I can’t think,” she admits as I cup one tit. My thumb brushes over her nipple as I peek over her shoulder to where Skylar is playing. With the coast clear I dip my head and suck her clothed nipple into my mouth. “The baby,” she murmurs.

  “Don’t worry she can’t see,” I assure her as my teeth tease her. My hands work her thighs apart and my fingers glide over her pussy. “Always so fucking wet for me,” I growl, sliding my fingers inside her wet heat.

  The phone rings as someone knocks on the door and Skylar looks up from her playset. Quickly, I release Celeste’s breast from my mouth and pull my fingers out of her. She whimpers as she scrambles off my lap. Pressing the heel of my hand to my dick I grunt in frustration.

  “I’ll get the door,” I offer as she reaches for the phone on the wall. She looks apprehensive, almost as if she’s worried who might be at the other end when I pull it open. Winking at Skylar as she looks at me curiously, I cross the living room picturing the day she doesn’t look at me like I’m a stranger with a kitty on his chest.

  I pull open the door and stare at Deuce.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “Yeah, nice to see you too,” he says, shouldering his way into the apartment. He freezes instantly and I turn to see Skylar standing in front of him, all wide-eyed innocence radiating off her. “Well, hello there,” he says, crouching down to offer her his hand. “I’m Deuce,” he drawls.

  “Doo.”

  “That works too,” he laughs. “Can I get a high five?”

  She slaps her palm against his and he pretends to fall down.

  “Damn, girl, you’re strong.”

  Giggles.

  Lots and lots of giggles.

  Deuce straightens to his full height and grins over his shoulder at me.

  “She loves me.”

  “Clearly,” I say with a chuckle, watching as she takes off for her toys again.

  “Man, it’s like the fucking twilight zone in here,” Deuce comments, taking in the sc
ene we create. Celeste talks quietly in the kitchen, our girl plays with her toys, and me, I just stand here with my brother taking it all in. Yeah, I can see his point.

  “Hate to break up the family reunion and all but we need to get ourselves over to Jack’s house.”

  “What happened?”

  “Victor died,” he reveals.

  It still amazes me that I have any kind of association with a mobster considering one stole my sister, but Victor Pastore was nothing like Yankovich. The man had morals and prided himself on keeping drugs off the streets of New York. It’s how the Satan’s Knights came to work alongside him. Jack didn’t stand for that shit either and working together they made sure no one pushed shit through their harbor. Victor proved his worth to the club and has been rotting in prison. After he murdered the G-Man, he wound up in solitary and spent his last days alone like a fucking dog.

  “Not sure what this is all about but he made it clear we all get our asses to his house.” His eyes dart back to Skylar. “What’s the deal with kid? You plan on sharing her with the club or are we keeping this under wraps for a while?”

  Thoughtfully, I watch Skylar run into the kitchen as Celeste hangs up the phone. I know the life of the MC like the back of my hand, but this life, the one where I have a daughter I don’t know shit about it. The only thing I know is that I have to find a way for them both to coexist.

  Until now there have been two things that drive my existence—revenge and my club. Now it’s the two people standing in the kitchen smiling at one another. That’s going to take some time to get used to and while I work on that I selfishly want to keep them to myself.

  I want to keep my sliver of peace hidden from the rest of the world.

  Away from the chaos.

  “Until I get a handle on it I’d appreciate you keeping this between us.”

  “Sure,” he says as Celeste walks into the living room holding Skylar on her hip.

  “Hi, Deuce,” she greets before turning her eyes to me. “Do you remember my cousins Gina and Rocco? Probably not, because they moved to Italy right before we started high school and I didn’t see them again until after you were already gone.”

  Rocco.

  Instantly, I feel the weight of Deuce’s stare as I mentally connect the dots. Before the bomb went off, before I laid eyes on Celeste again, Rocco Spinelli walked into our clubhouse on the heels of Anthony Bianci, Victor’s son-in-law. Dressed in a suit, the cocky bastard announced he was taking over Victor’s empire and hoped to continue the alliance between Victor’s organization and our club. As rare as the name Spinelli is, it never crossed my mind that the gangster might be related to Celeste.

  Jack shut him down, declaring that our club wasn’t looking to make nice with his new regime and sent him back to his Maserati without so much as a second thought.

  Out of sight.

  Out of mind.

  “Your father’s brother, the one that was deported for the drugs—” I start but she cuts me off.

  “That’s Rocco and Gina’s father,” she confirms. “We didn’t have much contact with them until they came home. Their mom got sick, died of cancer and my dad reached out to them. Gina and I started college and Rocco moved to Miami to work for their uncle.”

  “Holy shit,” Deuce hisses. “So you’re related to Victor too?”

  “No, Victor’s wife, Grace, was Rocco and Gina’s mother’s sister. Victor is their uncle but not mine. Anyway, that was Gina on the phone,” she pauses looking between me and Deuce. “Victor passed away, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I point my thumb toward Deuce. “That’s why he’s here.”

  She nods.

  “Well I’m going to drop Skylar off with my mom because Gina is freaking out.”

  “They were close?”

  “Not really, after what happened with her own father, Gina’s mother took the same stance as my father and cut ties with her sister. She didn’t want her kids around the mob. Gina’s freaking out over what this means for her brother.”

  “What about you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “How close are you to Rocco?”

  “Rocco never stuck around long enough for me to even know him. He’s like a storm. He rolls into town now and again, shakes shit up and leaves. Usually he leaves a mess and a trail of broken hearts. He and Gina aren’t even close anymore. It’s a shame really, after their mother’s passing they went their separate ways. Gina chose the high road and Rocco chose to run in the same circles as his dad.”

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I digest her words and glance over at Deuce, noting the look in his eyes. Like me, the wheels are churning and instinct is nagging, begging to rear it’s ugly head.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” he says after a moment. “See ya later, blondie,” he calls before fixing me with a look.

  Nodding curtly, I watch him walk out of the apartment before turning back to Celeste. She places Skylar down on her feet and cocks her head to the side.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I tell her, stepping closer. “I’ve got club shit to handle. Go to your cousin and I’ll meet you here tonight?”

  “Okay,” she whispers, wrapping one arm around my neck. Her eyes dart to my wound and back to mine. “Make sure you cover that up, okay?”

  “Mmhmm,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple before I walk over to Skylar and wrap a tendril of her hair around my finger.

  Blue eyes stare up at me and tugs at my heart.

  “Celeste?”

  Yeah?”

  “What’s Skylar’s last name?”

  Releasing the lock of her hair wrapped around my finger, I close my eyes and prepare myself for the blow.

  “Spinelli.”

  Instinct knows the game.

  But this time it keeps the next play a secret

  .

  -Twenty-four-

  Celeste

  After I dropped the baby off at my mom’s I stopped at the liquor store, grabbed a gallon jug of Carlo Rossi sangria and hightailed it to my cousin’s apartment. Afternoon drinking and lots of chocolate are usually required whenever Gina calls in hysterics. Which isn’t often. I can count on one hand how many times my cousin has called me with a problem. Too proud to ever ask for help, Gina’s the girl who puts on a show for everyone and always plasters a smile on her face. Looking at her, one would never know she is lonely. No, one glance at my cousin and you would think she has the picture perfect life.

  Only she doesn’t.

  Sure, her life is better than most. She has a killer career, a shoe collection to die for and a spiffy apartment. She’s the definition of an independent woman.

  But love is missing from her life. The love of her mother, the love of her brother and the love of a man. She grieves her mother in private, tells everyone she doesn’t care about her brother and swears she’s perfectly content not having a man in her life.

  Lies.

  All lies.

  The truth is, her mother’s death left her hollow. She misses her brother and wishes they could have a relationship. As for a man, well, she hasn’t admitted it but I know she’s growing an attachment to Cobra’s buddy Stryker. Underneath all that tough exterior she’s just a girl falling in love with a guy, a girl who prays he’ll fall in love with her too.

  Refilling my glass, I lean back on her plush bed and watch as she throws every black article of clothing onto her bed.

  “What about this one?” she asks, holding up a simple black knee-length dress.

  “That one screams funeral,” I reply, lifting the glass to my lips. Sipping the wine, I watch her extend her hand and scrutinize the dress.

  “No, it’s awful,” she decides, throwing it on top of the pile of discarded clothes before she reaches for the wineglass on her dresser.

  Rolling my eyes, I don’t acknowledge her craziness and continue to drink. You know for moral support and all that jazz.

  Huffing, she walks over to the bed and climbs ov
er the mountain of black dresses to lie beside me.

  “It’s not about the dress,” I say after a while.

  “No,” she admits. “Can you keep a secret?”

  Ha.

  If only she knew.

  “Sure,” I say before downing the rest of my glass.

  “I’m worried about my brother,” she whispers as she runs her fingers over the rim of her glass.

  “That’s not a very good secret,” I comment. “You’ve been worried about Rocco since your mother passed away.”

  Thoughtfully she looks at me, processing my words.

  “I suppose,” she replies finally. “My mother’s death changed me but it changed Rocco too and I lost him somewhere. Now I fear he’s too far gone for us to ever reconnect.”

  She pauses for a beat, placing her glass on the nightstand.

  “I think he’s in over his head,” she admits. “Uncle Vic’s death changes everything.”

  “How? Wasn’t he already taking over while he was in jail?”

  “It didn’t matter that he was in prison, Celeste. He killed a man in prison, a big time player. By doing so he proved to all his enemies he couldn’t be stopped. He might’ve been behind bars and my brother may have been the man on the streets, but as long as Uncle Vic was alive, every order came from him. Now my brother’s the man delivering the orders. I don’t think he realizes he’s sacrificed his soul to be a human target for the mafia.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I counter. “I think he’s starting to realize the severity of his actions. He knows his life has changed. He knows he has enemies, and he’s scared of what those men are capable of. I think he doubts his ability to follow in your uncle’s footsteps. If he was as confident as he portrays himself to be he wouldn’t have been so adamant about having someone watch over your every move.”

  “That kind of shocked me,” she murmurs.

  “That he was ready to have one of his goons follow you or that Stryker stepped up to the plate and took on the role?”

  “That my brother cared enough at all,” she confesses, angling her head to the side. “I guess I’m surprised Stryker offered to protect me too.”

  “How’s that working out?”