by Stasia Black
“Honey, you listen to me. You ever want to get away from that man, if he ever lifts a hand to you or starts being abusive with his words, you tell me. I don’t care who he is, we’ll get you away from here.”
There it was. Everything she’d wanted to hear ever since Marcus had flipped the script on their wedding night. Someone willing to help her escape him.
But Cora shook her head and reached out to give Maeve’s hand a squeeze. She told herself it was because she didn’t want to bring down the world of trouble Maeve’s words might incite from Marcus.
But she was afraid she believed her next words more. “I think I could be happy with him. It’s been an adjustment and we’re still learning to communicate but… I think I could be happy…”
She looked around her at the dogs in cages. Were the dogs happy there? They were well fed, taken out for walks once a day, and some of them in far better situations here than the abusive homes they’d been in before.
The dogs were grateful every time she poured food in their bowls or gave them a belly rub or took them outdoors for a walk.
But always they came back to the cage.
“Do you think they’re happy?” Cora asked suddenly. “Spending their whole life waiting in these cages until someone thinks they’re worthy enough to adopt them?”
“It seems to me,” Maeve said quietly after a moment, “happiness starts in here.” She leaned forward on her stool and pressed her fist to Cora’s chest, right over her heart.
Cora looked up at her and her eyes stung again like when she’d first gotten to the shelter. She swallowed hard. “It’s not that simple. All I ever wanted was freedom.”
Maeve gave the slightest shake of her head. “You already are free, baby. You always were. Where it counted.”
She lifted her fist and pressed it to Cora’s chest again. “I want the best for you, girl, whether you want to leave or stay, and I’ll help you whatever you choose. But till you demand your freedom here,” she opened her palm over Cora’s heart, “it won’t matter who you’re with or what rules they or their lifestyle puts on you.”
“I don’t understand,” Cora said.
Maeve smiled. “You will.”
Twenty-One
Marcus sat at a table in the back of Paulie’s with Sharo and several of his lieutenants. They did not have good news for him.
Angelo, a junior lieutenant, was animated as he spoke. “They hit us in the Westside, all at different parts of our business. One dealer was hit, two men approached him to take over his corner. He got away. A truck was targeted; we found it empty and abandoned on the Ape.”
The Ape, or Appian Way, was the main highway that linked New Olympus to Metropolis.
“Obviously it was the Titans,” Marcus said. “But you got anything more specific for me?”
“We’re looking for the driver now. Could be that fucker defected. But the worst hit was Santonio’s girls’ incall house.”
Shit. The incall house—as opposed to when the girls met clients at a hotel or on an outcall—was usually filled with muscle to protect them. “What happened?”
“Two guys came in separately and booked overnights. Drugged the girls and then snuck out of the rooms and set the house on fire.”
Marcus got very still. “Casualties?”
Angelo shook his head. “Guys downstairs smelled the smoke and got everybody out in time, but the two girls are in the hospital for smoke inhalation. And one of the guys did some things to the girl while she was out. We’re still waiting for her to wake up.”
Prostitutes worked illegally but they lived in the Underworld and were therefore under Marcus’s protection.
“Santonio’s putting double protection on his stable.”
“They weren’t after the girls,” Sharo spoke up, moving forward from the side of the room. His gaze met Marcus’s across the table.
Marcus nodded. Sharo slept at the incall house a few times a week. Always with different girls. If he wasn’t there, he was at a different incall house, but this one was his favorite.
He didn’t even have a place of his own. If the man like sleeping next to a warm body at night, who was Marcus to judge? But the fact that the Titans were targeting Marcus’s right hand man?
“They’re getting bolder,” Marcus said.
Angelo nodded, eyes locked with Marcus. “They hit us, we gotta hit back ten times as hard.” He smacked his fist into his hand.
“How we gonna strike, boss?” asked Carlo.
Marcus could feel the energy from his lieutenants all around the room. This was a war they’d all been waiting for.
Marcus most of all.
But now that it was here?
Marcus felt uneasy. Those girls who’d ended up in the hospital tonight? They were just the beginning.
And while they might not be innocents in the eyes of the public, they were to him.
How much collateral damage would an all-out street war cause? How many innocents would have to die?
And for what?
All because he’d had to have his revenge and capture Cora. They’d been at an uneasy détente with the Titans for almost a decade now. He’d been the one to turn a Cold War hot again.
He hadn’t even considered any other options at the time. He got report that Demi Titan was back in the city and he had to see for himself.
But of course it wasn’t her. It was her daughter. And as soon as Marcus had seen her, he’d had to have her.
Chiara would finally be avenged.
It was all he could see. Only now, months later after having gotten to know Cora, had he started for the first time in years to remember Chiara’s life and not just her death.
He thought he’d been honoring her memory by avenging her death, but all of this… More war? More death? It was the last thing she would’ve wanted.
“It’s time to make our play,” Angelo said when Marcus stayed quiet. “We send them the video Marcus took on his wedding night. We put the bitch up for ransom to draw the leadership out. Ambush those motherfuckers and kill every last one of them.”
Only years of discipline stopped Marcus from throwing himself on Angelo and beating his face in for calling his wife a bitch.
Noises of assent came from all around the circle at Angelo’s words. Clearly it was a popular idea.
It had been Marcus’s idea in the first place and he’d shared it with his lieutenants when he first began courting her.
“Can’t,” Marcus said sharply. “I fucked it up when I tried to transfer the video to my computer. The file got corrupted.”
Angelo stared at him, obviously confused. “So make another one.”
But the place he and Cora were at now, Marcus couldn’t imagine doing anything that would make her cry like she had after he’d said that stupid shit.
And he’d lied to his lieutenants just now. The file hadn’t gotten corrupted. He’d deleted it.
He’d been watching it, about to email it, and it made him sick to his stomach. For the first time in years, he heard Chiara’s voice in his head. Marcus, what are you doing? Do you think this is what I want?
Before he could think better of it, he’d trashed it and emptied the trash.
“Marcus?”
Marcus glared at Angelo. This little shit was getting too big for his britches. He was only a junior lieutenant and he had a lot of nerve, questioning Marcus and throwing his balls around like he had any say.
“I’ll think on it and get back to you.”
Angela looked at him like he’d grown a third head.
“But boss—”
Marcus had had enough. He jerked Angelo up from his seat and shoved him back until he was flat against the wall, his hand against Angelo’s throat. “It would behoove you to respect your elders. You’ve been in the organization what? Eight years? Everyone else at the table has fifteen years on you. So don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. And Cora might be a Titan but she’s also my wife and as such she deserves respect. Do you hea
r me?”
Marcus pulled out his weapon and put it to Angelo’s forehead. “Tell me you hear me.”
Angelo’s body started to tremble underneath Marcus’s hand at his throat. “I hear you,” he whispered shakily.
“Good,” Marcus said with one last shove.
He turned back to the table and holstered his side arm. “The Titans will be dealt with. Their violence will not go unanswered. But we do it smart. Tiny, Fats, find out who their major supplier in Metropolis is. Double up the Shades’ presence on the Westside. No more Titans get in our city that we don’t know about. No more surprises. And find that gods damned driver, see what he knows. Meeting adjourned.”
There were nods all around and the guys stood up and hurried off. Smart. Most people knew not to mess with him when he was in a mood. Angelo skittered off with his tail between his legs. Marcus would have to watch that. Angelo had a big ego and he was ambitious. That could be a dangerous combination.
Marco glanced at his watch. He knew he was old school, not staring at his phone every godsdamn second, but people were on those things too much.
He looked to Sharo. “Everything considered, it might make sense for you to lay low for the time being.”
Sharo nodded and left without another word.
Probably why the big man was his closest friend, if the term applied to anyone. He knew when it was best to keep his mouth shut.
Twenty-Two
It was a different driver than Sharo who picked Cora up at the shelter. She’d changed into a dress and heels as per Marcus’s request and she fiddled with her purse strap. It felt strange to be driving in the car without Marcus. Strange to be anywhere without Marcus. And yet, Cora found herself doing the exact same thing she’d be doing if Marcus was in the car anyway.
She stared out the window, silent, hand on the glass as she watched the beautiful glittering lights of the city.
“Um, sir, can you put on some classical music? I think it’s preset one?”
The strains of Rachmaninoff filling the Bentley made Cora relaxed back against the chair. Between the gentle lull of the music and the soft leather seats, Cora felt her eyes drifting closed.
She’d watched a TV show while Marcus was gone at work yesterday about these beekeepers who used smoke to daze the bees, lulling them into a false sense of security while the beekeepers emptied their hives of honey.
Was that what was happening to her? Being lulled into a false sense of security by routines and little gifts after periods of hardship her husband himself had inflicted?
Was she being manipulated by a master?
She rolled her eyes at herself. Gods, what was with the animal metaphors today? But maybe it was natural that she couldn’t help thinking about traps and cages on the one day she was free.
The driver pulled in front of Paulie’s, where apparently Marcus was already waiting. Several Shades shadowed Cora as she stepped out of the backseat and, looking both ways, they ushered her out of the car and hurried her into the restaurant.
She’d been here a couple of times, before they were married when Marcus had stopped in briefly for business and she’d drunk coffee in a front booth while he was in the back. Today though, Marcus was in the booth in a little room separated off from the rest of the restaurant. He was alone, not meeting anyone, as if he was waiting for her.
The waitress took Cora directly back to him and Marcus waved for her to take the opposite booth seat.
Cora nervously fingered her purse and sat down, scooting over until she was in front of him, the narrow table between them.
“How was your time with your friend?”
“It was good. Thank you for letting me go.” The words were a little hard to get out. She shouldn’t have to ask permission to go see her own friend. But she kept her temper in check because she really wanted him to award her more and more freedoms like this afternoon.
Marcus tilted his head at her and she wondered what he was thinking. Seemed like she was always wondering what he was thinking lately. His face was so unreadable and his actions often inexplicable. He’d eased up so much from the wedding night but she didn’t know why or what was coming next. She was back to constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop.
“I don’t suppose we could talk like real people?” she asked with a sigh.
Marcus’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “By all means.”
But that was all he said. She sighed again. He’d never make anything easy, would he?
“How was your day?” she asked.
He continued studying her, and shrugged. “I dealt with business.”
Cora rolled her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me about your day. I’ll tell you about mine. It was great to see Maeve again. And the dogs. The reporter was nosy but I kind of expected that.” Her eyes had been wandering the restaurant but they came back to Marcus. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything.”
“I wasn’t worried that you would.”
This time it was her looking at him in surprise.
“I give you more credit than that. You’re smart. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
It was one of the things he liked about her?
“Though I might have let it slip how grumpy you are in the morning before you get your first cup of coffee.” The teasing comment slipped out but she couldn’t deny the way her chest warmed when she saw his lips twitch.
No. Stop it. No smiling at the sadistic captor. Getting on better terms with Marcus so he gave her more freedoms was one thing, but…liking it?
So she just started babbling so she wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. “One of the golden retrievers was a little too eager to meet Joe when we took him out for his walk and started humping his leg. Maeve got him under control, though. She’s trying to train him in some of the basics because she thinks he’ll make a great family dog. We were hoping Joe would feature him in the article but that plan went a bit awry, what with the whole humping incident.”
“Joe?” Was Cora crazy or was there an edge to Marcus’s voice?
“You know, the reporter from the other night. Joe Garcia,” she said, dismissing the thought. “Anyway, I think the whole thing went off pretty well. Hopefully it will bring some recognition and publicity to the shelter and will get more people in, wanting to adopt.”
Her eyes lifted over Marcus’s shoulder. “And it was good to see the dogs again…” Wait, she’d already said that. She bit her lip as she watched the waitress, Maria, approach with their food. Cora hadn’t ordered anything or even seen menus.
“I took the liberty of ordering for us when the driver messaged that you were on your way.”
“Oh,” she said. She didn’t like his high handedness, but it was Marcus. And when she leaned over her plate of pasta and took a deep inhale, she smiled. “Thanks. I’m famished.”
“Enjoy,” Marcus said, eyes still on her, not his food.
Feeling a little self-conscious, she dug in anyway. The meatballs and marinara were delicious. Simple fare but excellently executed. “Oh my gosh, this is amazing,” Cora said as she finished chewing a large bite.
Marcus watched her with what looked like amusement as he ate his meal. She was embarrassed when she looked down and realized she’d polished off almost her whole plate and he was only halfway done.
“I’ll give your compliments to the cook.”
Cora felt her cheeks heat but decided, screw it. Good food was good food and she wouldn’t be embarrassed about enjoying it.
Hadn’t Maeve impressed on her the point that happiness and freedom started with her? She wasn’t sure she fully understood what Maeve had meant but she could guess that it had something to do with attitude and outlook. She could sit here and sulk about her situation and pick at her food.
Or, she could enjoy the fuck out of this amazing pasta, be satisfied that she’d had a great day at the shelter with her good friend, and tonight, if the pattern of the last week was anything to go by, she’d probably end the da
y with at least one earth-shattering orgasm.
Was it really that easy?
Be happy in her cage and move on with life?
“What are you thinking about so solemnly over there?”
Her eyes jerked back to Marcus. She didn’t know how long she’d zoned out for, but he looked almost done with his pasta now. He gazed at her over his glass of red wine.
“Nothing,” was her knee-jerk response, but then she took a deep breath. She was the one who said she wanted to talk about real things, right?
“I guess I was wondering…well I’m always wondering…what it is you want.”
Marcus looked surprised again. “What do you mean?”
Was she really doing this? Maybe it was the afternoon with Maeve, maybe it was the fact that Marcus had been relatively nice to her lately, but she decided to take the plunge.
“Well,” she started slowly, “I can’t help but notice that things have been…different lately.”
He didn’t say anything so she went on.
“…And I guess I was wondering if you are still determined, um, for me to be…well, miserable.”
Her eyes dropped to her plate but she glanced up briefly at him. Pointlessly, because his features gave no indication of what he was thinking.
So determinedly, she went on. “Because I was thinking, um, if you’re out for revenge on my dad, us being together whether I’m happy or miserable still does that job. Because I’m guessing you’re the last person on earth he would want me with.”
Time to get the rest of it out quick. “I’ve never known the guy so I don’t necessarily feel any loyalty to him and things were never that great with my mom. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that may be a life here in New Olympus, a life with you, could be good. I mean, I could be contented if you were okay with me doing things like I did today, going out and not being locked in the apartment all day.”
“And I could make it a good home for you,” she hurried on to say. “I could cook and clean—”
