by Logan Fox
She thought she’d forgotten about Bailey, but she hadn’t. She’d taken the memory of him—her feelings, his smell, the sound of his voice, his reassuring presence—and bundled it up into a chest. A chest she’d locked and shoved into the far recesses of her mind.
Because it had hurt too much to have him in her head.
That embrace had splintered the lock. The first scent of him had pried open the lid. And the quiet murmur of his voice as he said her name…it had eviscerated that chest and surrounded her in a flood of memories and emotions so strong, she’d had to fight back tears.
Cora dropped her eyes. She could look at anyone. She felt sick to her stomach even, with all the lies and half-truths twisting around in her mind.
Bailey had betrayed her…but he’d also been her protector.
That had to count for something, didn’t it?
“…think that’s a wonderful idea, don’t you, Cora?”
At the sound of her name, she looked up at Javier. He beamed at her. A wave of surrealism washed over her. It couldn’t possibly be the same man who’d threatened her outside, could it?
“What?” she said, after clearing her throat.
Everyone was looking at her. She scanned those faces, looking for a hint of what she’d missed. She settled on Gabriella, who’d cocked her head as if waiting for an answer from her.
“Sorry…I…did you ask me something?”
Gabriella looked taken aback, but then she pursed her lips and looked up as if trying to find a sliver of patience. When she spoke, it was carefully, as if to an idiot. “I asked if you’d like to go shopping with me tomorrow. I’m sure your wardrobe needs some updating.”
Agree with everything, Finn had told her.
“Uh…sure.” She turned to look at Javier. She was about to ask his permission—his fucking permission!—but she managed to snap her teeth closed in time. “You wanted me at eight?” she asked instead.
And then blushed, because when she heard those words, they could have meant anything. Finn shifted beside her, and Lars let out a long suffering sigh.
“I won’t take up too much of your time,” Javier said. Although the tone of his voice was pleasant enough, there was an unmistakable edge to his voice. “I know how busy a capo can be.”
41
What he wouldn't give
Bailey trailed Cora’s lieutenant up the stairs. He kept a few feet between them; he hadn’t imagined their guarded looks in his direction when Cora had told him she needed to speak with him.
She’d also said they had to speak alone, but the two men had ignored her.
He thought she was taking the four of them to her room—which would have been understandable but totally inappropriate—but instead she climbed the stairs all the way to the top of the villa.
Despite how long he’d been feeding Javier and Gabriella information, he’d never been to the villa. His place had always been beside Cora, not here. The vast scale of the place was something he was still trying to wrap his head around because, while Swan Manor was huge, this place sprawled.
They cleared the stairs, and his eyes swept over an inky panorama. A black horizon, humped with distant mountains, that met with a dark blue sky scattered with stars.
And not the handful of stars you saw in Phoenix.
Here, the milky way was a wide strip that clearly divided the night sky in two.
“Bailey!”
He looked down at Cora’s voice, and strode forward to catch up. She’d clustered around one of the cocktail tables, a man on either side of her.
He recognized the one on her right; the man who’d shot him. The pale-haired man to her left he’d never seen before. Both voices he’d recognized instantly though—they’d been in the hospital room with him. Even back then, he’d recognized Finn’s voice. But it had been too soon for him to have any idea how this shit would play out. He wasn’t going to announce himself, only to have Finn try and finish what he’d started. Although, looking back, he was sure now that Finn had never intended to kill him. The bullet had passed a few inches from his heart and far away from his lungs.
A shot meant to keep him down, not to end him.
“Bailey, these are my lieutenants,” Cora said, for all the world as if she really believed this capo shit. She lifted a hand. “Milo Finn.” Then the other. “Lars…” she turned to the pale haired man. “Eklund, right?”
Lars snorted, looked about to say something, and then gave a nod instead. This made Finn turn narrowed eyes on him.
Bailey wasn’t in the habit of checking out guys, but something about Lars made him look like he’d be more at home in one of those fashion magazines where the stick-thin male models wore pants three inches too short for them, and jackets that clashed with everything else—including the actual models. Finn, on the other hand, could throw an axe up on his shoulder and instantly transform into a cabin-dwelling lumberjack who didn’t mind ten feet of snow and killing what he ate. All he’d need was a beard.
The men obviously knew each other well. And Cora seemed pretty comfortable around them. How well could three people get to know each other in the span of a month? Because he knew for a fact neither of them had been in Cora’s life before that night at Swan Manor.
What he wouldn’t give to know what she’d endured in the past four weeks.
And what he wouldn’t give to never find out.
Neither man looked as if they knew the first thing about how to treat a lady. Finn seemed too rough, and Lars had an abrasive edge to him.
Neither were gentlemen. And he would never forgive himself for the fact that she’d had to rely on them for her protection.
Bailey nodded at the men, but his attention turned immediately back to Cora. “Can we speak in pri—?”
“Whatever you have to say,” Cora said, “You can say in front of them.” She reached out and gripped the edge of the cocktail table. Then she glanced at the two men on either side of her. “Now someone’d better tell me what the hell is going on!”
Bailey frowned at her, even though she hadn’t directed the command his way. He’d never heard her voice so hard. She almost sounded like Gabriella.
Finn shifted his weight, and Lars gave her a shrug. Cora turned to Finn. She had to crane her head back to look at him, even in high heeled shoes. But his size or his height didn’t seem to intimidate her in the least.
What in the name of all things good in the world had come over her? He didn’t know her like this. She’d always been so sweet and shy. He’d never seen her this dominant before.
He wasn’t sure he liked it.
42
Make them watch
“Okay…” Cora said quietly. “Let’s start with: why the hell am I going shopping tomorrow?”
Finn leaned forward so he could rest his elbows on the cocktail table. He glanced aside at Cora, and gave a small shrug. “Gabriella claims she can smuggle you out of here.”
Cora’s mouth was already open, as if she’d been about to crap him out for something, but then she closed it again. Her brows drew together, and she gave Bailey and Lars a quick peek before letting out a soft, “Oh.”
“But there’s no way in fuck that’s happening,” Finn said, straightening again.
Lars snapped mocking eyes up at him just as Bailey let out a low, “Really?”
He was trying really hard not to let this guy get under his skin, but when he looked across the table and saw Bailey’s incredulous expression, he almost went for him.
“Yeah…” Finn said, straightening. “Really.”
“On account of how safe she is here?” Bailey asked, taking a step to the side as if clearing room for a brawl.
A brawl he was going to get if he kept on the way he was.
“On account of how little I fucking trust you,” Finn said. “You and Gabriella.”
“We’re trying to help!” Bailey snapped. “How can you not trust us?”
“Because of the ‘us’ part of that fucking sentence,”
he countered, stabbing a thumb toward Bailey. “The fact that you betrayed the Swans. Went behind their backs. Reported everything…”
And then he stopped talking, because he just realized this was probably news to Cora, and he’d just labeled himself the biggest fucking dick head for the way he was delivering the news.
Finn spun, eyebrows drawing together as he formed an apology.
But Cora wore such a look of resigned annoyance that it was obvious she already knew.
More secrets…whispered his beast. More and more and more. We’ll punish her for this. We’ll make her tell us everything—
With effort, he forced the voice away.
“Bailey came to see me today,” Cora said, crossing her arms as if daring Finn to object after the fact. “He told me everything.”
“And that makes it okay?” Finn said.
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But it helps.”
Bailey lifted his hands when Finn looked back at him. “Look, man, just let me help. I know Gabriella, okay? She’s a snake, but if there’s one thing she cares about more than anything, it’s her son.”
“What the hell does Neo have to do with this?” he shot back.
Neither Bailey nor Cora had convinced him of anything. What was to say Bailey wouldn’t report back something to Javier? Or that Gabriella would decide, last minute, that helping Cora escape wasn’t worth the risk. She hadn’t mentioned anything about Neo, either.
Too many fucking secrets.
“She’s getting them both out. Neo and Cora.” Bailey turned to Cora and Lars. “Talk some sense into him, would you?”
Finn glared at Bailey, opened his mouth, and was cut off when Cora thumped her fist into the table. It wasn’t a particularly loud sound—she had small hands, and it was quite a sturdy table. It wasn’t the sound that made him flinch, but the fact that she’d used it to silence them.
He looked past her at Lars, who turned a small, knowing smile on him.
What the fuck had he missed?
“I’m not talking sense into anyone,” Cora said. Her voice was quiet. Calm. She spoke carefully, as if to make sure no one could possibly misunderstand her.
It reminded him of how Javier spoke. Which made him open his mouth to tell her to keep quiet so he could sort this shit out. But before he could speak, Cora held up a hand, palm out, in his direction.
“I’ve heard you, Finn,” she said, not looking at him. “And you, Bailey.” She dropped her hands, laying both of them side by side on the table.
Cora moved her gaze from Lars, to Bailey, and finally to him. What he saw in those golden irises surprised him. She wasn’t play-acting. This wasn’t some front she’d put up.
As hard as it was for him to believe, this was Cora. Something had changed. Maybe all the pressure and stress she’d had to endure up to this point had transformed her into something hard enough to deal with everything that was still coming.
Carbon to diamond.
“I agree that it’s not safe for me to stay here,” Cora said, putting a certain emphasis on the word, ‘I’. “So I think it’s best I get the hell out of here.”
As if she’d suddenly had some kind of epiphany. Whatever brief flash of admiration he’d felt, it was drowned out by a surge of annoyance.
“You think?” Finn demanded, stepping up to her. He expected her to take a step back, perhaps apologize profusely…but for the second time that night she surprised him.
Cora dropped her voice so low, it became husky. “I am your capo.” She stepped up to him until there was no distance between them. His chin was on his chest so he could look down at her, but her eyes didn’t flicker once. They fixated on him, intent and deliberate. “Out here, you answer to me.”
Out here? Answer to her—?
Mmmm…came a smug purr from his beast. Look how small she is. You could fuck her on this table in front of them if you wanted. Do it. Make them watch. Fuck her so hard that she screams for you to stop.
Finn’s arms wrapped around her. He crushed his lips to hers, tasting blood a second later. She moaned into his mouth. It could have been a protest, or a side effect of arousal, he didn’t know. She fought him, but her strength was a pitiful thing that his beast snickered at as it whispered hedonistic pleas in his mind.
We want her naked.
Tear off her clothes.
Make them watch.
Fuck her so hard, they’ll want her too. And then deny them. Deny them, deny them—
A blow caught the side of his head. Finn staggered, mouth open, as Cora was ripped away from him. Before he could focus, a fist connected with his jaw and sent him reeling back.
“Stop it!” Cora shrieked.
But she sounded too far away. Or maybe it was the ringing in his ears that drowned her out.
Bailey stormed toward him, fist lifted for another blow. This one he caught with his hand, much to the man’s astonishment. Bailey widened gray eyes at him, looked at where Finn had trapped his fist, and tried tugging himself free.
He jerked Bailey closer, head butting him.
There was blood in the air.
His beast, already aroused by the thought of what it could make Finn do to Cora, roared and pawed at the air, claws extended.
He followed Bailey to the ground. Straddled him. Drove his fist into the man’s jaw.
“Finn, no!”
Cora. Screaming.
Something brushed his shoulder. He shrugged it off, struck Bailey another blow. The man seemed resistant to punches; he was trying to claw out Finn’s eyes. So Finn grabbed his head, lifted it, and was about to slam it into the ground when someone whispered, “Pineapple,” in his ear.
He froze, blinking to clear sweat from his eyes. It stung, but not as much as his knuckles, which, he realized, were raw.
Bailey eyes flashed wide with surprise, and then he punched Finn in the throat.
Finn fell back, half-retching half-coughing, as agony tore through his trachea.
“—enough!” Cora again, but the word had been said through a sob.
“—him away,” came the tail end of whatever Lars had said to someone.
Reality slipped away. Something cold, dark, ancient replaced it. Memories flooded in to surround him; the smell of the desert at night, the dry cold that sank into his bones, the taste of iron in his mouth.
His back thudded into something. A scream. Glass shattered with a most sickening sound.
And then there was nothing but air streaming past him.
His body reacted instinctively…grasping, grasping.
It slapped against a hand. His body jerked, and then slammed into a wall. Lights danced for a second in front of his eyes, until he twisted—floundering in sudden panic—and thumped into the side of the villa again.
He’d crashed through the glass fence spanning the roof’s perimeter. This side of the villa had been built on the side of a small rise; what would have been two stories of air below him were now just a little over three. And a craggy mouth of rock teeth waiting to chew into him.
A second hand joined the first. Voices. Something that sounded like a breathless, “Fuck!”
And then he was sliding up. The exposed skin on his arm where his jacket had hiked up scraping over whatever glittering sand had been blasted onto the wall. Some of it flaked off, some of it became lodged in his skin.
He twisted again, bumping gently into the wall this time. Almost close enough to grab the edge of the roof and try to haul himself up the rest of the way.
Bailey, teeth gritted and face red, pulled him up.
Finn found purchase with his feet, and tried to help, never breaking eye contact with the man gripping his hand. Veins stood out on Bailey’s forehead, and his shoulders shook. But, seconds later, he’d pulled the upper half of Finn’s body over the edge of the roof. The man fell backward, his sweaty grip sliding away. New hands grabbed hold of Finn’s jacket, his pants, and hauled him up the rest of the way.
He kicked hard to get away fr
om the edge, and took down Cora and Lars before they could stand.
All three of them landed half on top of Bailey, who lay panting on his back with a hand over his heart as if he thought he was having a heart attack.
When Finn looked up, Bailey lifted his head at the same time, mouth open how he tried to draw breath.
“Now we’re even,” Bailey said, lip lifting as if he was trying to sneer. But either he didn’t know how, or he was too tired. His head flopped back, and Finn let out a low, raspy laugh.
Hell, maybe they were even. Somehow, though, he doubted their new equilibrium would see out the day.
43
I love you, Cora Sw—
When the four of them reached the second story, Cora held out her hand. The three men all gave her almost identical frowns.
“I need to speak to Bailey,” she said.
“Alone?” Finn muttered.
“Yes.”
“But when he asked you—”
“Alone, Finn,” Cora said. She couldn’t get quite the same steely tone in her voice as before, but at least it wasn’t shaking. And that was quite astonishing, seeing as she was still shaking.
He’d almost died.
The words played on repeat through her head.
Died, died, died.
“You two can come back in about an hour.”
Lars mouthed, you two, but then shrugged and strode away. She thought she heard a muttered, “’Course, my capo,” but he was gone before she could be sure.
Finn threw her a long, considering stare over his shoulder as he went after Lars.
“What are they coming back for?” Bailey asked, a laugh in his voice. “It’s almost ten.”
She blushed before she could control herself, and hurriedly turned to lead Bailey to her bedroom. Admittedly, it wasn’t the most neutral place to talk with him, but it was better than having someone almost die.
