“We’re open. Thought I’d take the night off, see what all the fuss was about,” Mac replied.
A strong arm was placed around my shoulders, steadying me before I toppled over with dread. Mac must’ve sensed my distress, or perhaps he too needed an anchor. So, this was the asshole who’d tacked a dead fish to my door in the middle of the night? He didn’t seem so tough.
“You remember my wife, Bella, don’t you, MacCabe?” He indicated the sour-faced woman at his side. “I believe the two of you are old friends, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Bella,” Mac clipped.
“Darragh.” She smirked. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Ugh. Her voice made me want to rip out her hair from the root. All sexy and sultry like, the way she said pleasure with an emphasis on the Pl. How dare she name-fuck him as if I weren’t standing here right in front of her face.
“And who is this gorgeous creature at your side tonight?” O’Brien asked, addressing me.
Think of something witty.
Think of something witty.
“I’m Odie, Darragh’s freak of the week and hired sex slave. Pleased to meet you both.”
I actually curtseyed.
Jesus, take the wheel.
Booming laughter filled the space between us as O’Brien fought to maintain his composure. Bella, the cow, scoffed in disgust at her husband’s reaction. She looked even more put out than when they’d first walked up, if that were even possible. If I were being petty, which I’d been known to be, I would’ve reached down and grabbed Mac by the cock as a sign of ownership. Palmed that shit in my fist like ripened fruit, checking for freshness.
I held back.
Maybe next time.
“Do you mind if I borrow your date, MacCabe?” O’Brien stepped away from his wife and offered me his arm. “I’d like to personally give her the grand tour of the place, show her all the amenities we have to offer our invited guests.”
Geez…what’s with the invited guest bullshit?
I glanced at my date before slowing accepting his gracious gesture. If Mac had any objections, he never voiced them as the two of us disappeared into the crowd. O’Brien’s plan was obviously to get me alone, but why? Would he try and pump me for information on Mac’s underground fight club? Offer me cash to spill trade secrets he thought I was privy to? Threaten my life if I refuse to work for him? You could learn a lot by watching, Mac had said, so that was exactly what I did.
He exuded power in his purposeful strides, all pomp and circumstance, yet there was a vulnerability in his gaze, a longing for something just out of reach. I recognized the trait in myself so very often, it wasn’t hard to gauge. He pointed out a few areas of interest while introducing me to a few of the patrons as his special guest. The pretense ended the minute we were finally alone, as I knew it eventually would.
“So, how long have you known Darragh MacCabe, Odie? The two of you make quite the handsome couple, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he pointed out as we stepped towards a hideaway nearest the ring.
“Not as long as your wife has, I assure you, Mr. O’Brien.”
“So, you know the history of their relationship, then?” he gently probed.
“Nope, afraid I don’t…but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me.”
He hesitated for a moment, almost sheepish at my cut-the-shit attitude.
“I like you, Odie, so yes, I think I will tell you,” he announced with a click of his tongue. “They were lovers. In fact, I would go so far as to say they were in love with each other. But I’m sure you’ve already figured that out by now.”
“Yeah, your wife didn’t exactly try and hide it. I could smell the smoke coming from her underwear. Is that the real reason we’re on this little stroll? Trying to warn me about Mac’s player ways before I get my heart broken? Believe me, there’s zero chance of that happening, bucko, so save the drama for your momma.”
A curtain of sadness fell over his eyes before he swept it way. “We weren’t in love when I asked her to marry me. She agreed for…diplomatic reasons. Darragh was tossed aside, and we were happily living our lives amongst the Boston elite. Recently, things started to change.” He paused, hesitant about what he wanted to say next. “You see, Odie, MacCabe somehow managed to make a name for himself without his family’s backing. He’s earned the things that firstborn sons are given when they take over. Money, power, respect. He was damn ruthless in its pursuit. He’s an asset to the organization, and I can’t touch him without the retaliatory wrath of the five families.”
Interesting.
“Let me guess.” I stared him down. “Little Miss. Sunshine is ready for an upgrade, and you’re about to be kicked to the curb with steel-toed boots? Sounds to me like just desserts considering you stole her from him and made her your wifey. Why would I care about any of this?”
He didn’t answer, nor did he have to. I could see it written all over his face. He thought I could reel Mac in and keep him occupied enough to stay away from his missus. Yeah, right.
O’Brien had my sympathies for all of two seconds before I remembered why I was forced to come here from the get-go. Did I feel awful that his bitch was about to dump his ass? I might’ve if he hadn’t threatened my life. Now, all I felt was rage.
“Is that why you had someone tack a dead fish to my front door? Payback to Mac ‘cause your wife wants to rekindle an old flame? Pretty pathetic, if you ask me, Kallum.”
“Fish?” His eyebrows creased. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The fucked-up message left on my door, mafia style? Dead fish, blood, nails, ring a bell?”
Fucking hell, this guy is clueless.
“I assure you, Otelia, I’ve done no such thing. When I have a point to make, it’s done with the utmost knowledge that the beneficiary would never be heard from again unless you consulted a Psychic-Medium. I would never be so sloppy or cliché as to tack a fish on someone’s door.”
The only thing I’d managed to get out of him was bellyaching about his marital problems. I was starting to really question the cinematic mob machismo I’d watched so often on television. I felt let down by the realization that these so-called bosses were just like everyone else—trekking through the dog shit of everyday life like the rest of society. Sadly, for O’Brien, that included dealing with a wayward wife who was about as loyal as a stray dog. I had enough and was ready to return to Mac so we could get the hell out of here, fish incident be damned.
“Thanks for the tour, Kallum.” I moved to step away. “Good luck with your new business. I’m sure it will be a great success.”
His voice stopped me before I managed to get away.
“Otelia?” he called. “Do you believe that love conquers all?”
The sincerity in his question left me reeling. Did I still believe in love? Not long ago, it would have been a resounding yes! Yes, damnit, love conquers all. It was promised to me, and I was still searching for it. Now, I wasn’t so sure. Throat constricted with sorrow, I could only nod my head in agreement and walk away.
Love.
You cockeyed bitch.
CHAPTER 27
MacCabe
MOB ETIQUETTE.
O’Brien took advantage of it, leaving me here to entertain his wife while he marched off with my companion, reminding me of my place. I could shoot this motherfucker up and jack my dick at the same time. That’s how less of a shit I gave about this fucking place and the man who owned it. He’d disrespected my name. He’d disrespected my authority. And he’d disrespected my manhood when he invited Otelia to leave with him. I wanted to follow them, bring her back to me, where I could keep her safe. If he so much as farted in her direction and offended her delicate nature, he was a motherfucking dead man, etiquette or not. Fortunately, I was able to catch Ferdi in my line of sight as he passed by in the crowd and wordlessly commanded him to track their movements. Bella sensed my agitation.
“Don’t be so uptight, Darragh,” she
hissed. “He’ll bring the whore back in one piece.”
A low growl formed in my chest. “Fucking right, he will, and don’t call her a whore.”
“Why’d you bring her here anyway? She’s nothing but a worthless piece of trash and so beneath you. She could never live up to your family’s standards, let alone be a wife to you. I’ve been waiting for you to come for me, Darragh. The other night when we made love in your office, I believed it was a new turning point for us, a new beginning. The way you made me feel after years of being away…I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
I gave the woman in front of me my full attention. “You’re talking crazy, Bella. What we did wasn’t love making. It was fucking. Don’t delude yourself. We didn’t cuddle afterwards, whisper sweet nothings to each other, or go in for round two. We both got off, and it was whacked. It will never, fucking ever, happen again.”
“It was everything, and you damn well know it. You never forget about your first love, Darragh. I know I broke your heart, but I was wrong, okay? I admit that I made a mistake, one I’m willing to rectify in order for us to be together,” she spat.
I didn’t have time for this bullshit.
I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to what was going on. Bella was being reckless as fuck with her mouth. Her choice of words alone could get me killed if she wasn’t careful. Back in the day, I would’ve done just about anything to hear her begging for me to take her back. Now, I couldn’t wait to get as far away from her as I possibly could.
The biggest mistake of my life was screwing this woman knowing full well she was married to a boss. What turned out to be a lapse in judgment on my part clearly meant something more for her. I needed to get her mind back on the right track before her husband returned.
“Look, Bella. What we had has been over for a long time. You have your life with O’Brien, and I have mine with whatever woman I choose to spend it with. There is no going back. We came here tonight to check out the fights, place a few bets, and drink a few cocktails. Now it’s time for us to leave. Good luck with the rest of your life, and tell your husband I said thanks for the hospitality.”
“I know what you really want, Darragh, what would really make you happy.” She reached out and lightly touched my arm. “Say the word, and I can make this all go away, and you’d never have to worry about Kallum again. Your business would be safe, and we could run this whole town…together.”
Before I got the chance to tell her she was batshit crazy, Otelia came barreling towards us without O’Brien as her escort. Bella removed her hand and took a step back with an audible huff, face completely torn the hell up with annoyance.
“Back so soon?” she taunted. “My husband must be losing his touch with the ladies.”
“Take me home, Mac,” Otelia ordered.
Her eyes were lit with fire and something else I couldn’t quite figure out. She muscled past Bella without so much as a backwards glance to see if I would follow. The high heels she wore clunked against the pavement as she hurried towards the limousine drop-off station. There was no wait. We shuffled inside the first one available and set off towards the empty lot where I’d left my car parked. I fired off a text to Ferdi, letting him know that we were leaving and he should find a way back to the penthouse. Otelia pressed herself against the far end of the leather seat, her head rested against the doorjamb, absent. The entire ten-minute ride was completely silent.
Fucking splendid.
I was done with this deep freeze bullshit. The second the limo pulled away, I was on her ass. Otelia was ignorant to our ways and probably mistook my previous behavior as a green light to throw her attitude around. Well, her temporary reprieve was over. I wanted answers. She tried to open the passenger side door, but I refused to push the key fob.
“Want to fill me in on what happened with O’Brien?”
No answer.
She harrumphed and folded her arms over her chest.
I advanced, glaring.
She saw me coming, but it was too late.
I slammed her small frame against the side of the car, not enough to injure but enough to corral her bullshit. My hand reached up of its own accord and squeezed the living shit out of her mouth and cheeks, causing her lips to pucker. I wanted to kiss them. She tried to fight it by grabbing hold of my wrist, but I was too strong, too determined, and too fucking pissed.
“I asked you a question, woman, and I expect a motherfucking answer.” I settled my knee between her legs, spreading them open, wider, mindful of her bare pussy beneath the tight skirt. “What did he offer you? Money, expensive trips, clothes, his cock?” I ground into her center.
My dick becoming increasingly harder the angrier I became. O’Brien had stolen the woman I’d loved right out from under me with minimal effort. I’d been weak then, both in mind and body, unprepared to fight for what I wanted. Things were different now.
Very fucking different.
Otelia blinked her eyes several times, a sign to release her mouth so she could talk. I loosened the slack a bit but remained pressed against her tits, restricting her movement.
“Let me go, Mac,” she demanded.
“Not a fucking chance in hell.” I held my ground.
She raised her chin in defiance.
Brave little kitty cat.
“He told me how you and his precious little wifey used to fuck each other like rutting mules.” She used her free hand to grab my leather belt and pull me flush against her warm pussy, raising her leg for better access. “How you were in love with that uptight bitch, but she chose him instead. Tell me, Darragh…did she smash your blackened little heart to pieces? Did you cry into your pillow knowing your supposed woman was giving it up to the next man?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Not a fucking chance in hell,” she spat my own words back in my face.
Heat.
Arousal.
It ricocheted between us.
Our collective hunger mingled as one, inches away. I watched her lips part and lift into a salacious smirk as she dared me to act. Listening to her taunts provoked my inner beast. He wanted more. He wanted to punish her sassy mouth. I released my hold on her face and spun her around. Her arms reached for the hood of the car. Just like before, she pushed her succulent ass against the front of my tented suit pants. We moved in tandem and with purpose. Belt buckle, button, zipper. I stood behind her naked from the waist down while she hiked up her skirt and spread her knees apart.
Wrong angle.
I hit the button to lower the driver’s side window and laid her belly over the opening, head dangling inside. Now, her ass was perfect for the taking. Perfect height, perfect vantage point, perfect in every way. I wasted little time in doing so.
I reached inside the glove box and grabbed hold of the box of condoms I kept there. One was all I needed. The rest were discarded on the ground somewhere in the distance. My teeth tore into the foil wrapping savagely. Once sheathed, I lined up my cock and slammed into her awaiting cunt, lifting her feet completely off the ground. I groaned through the tingling sensation that started on the underside of my dick and spread throughout my body.
Her pussy felt like heaven.
“Not so smartass now with your pussy full of hard cock, are you, woman?” I gibed with a thrust.
“Kiss my ass, Mac.”
“Told you before, kitty cat. I much prefer to fuck it instead.”
“Do your worst,” she mewled.
I fucked her like an animal, banging knees against the quarter panel, grunting, rutting, abusing her pussy like it owed me something. Every time I hit bottom, she banged a hand on the armrest inside the car and screamed my name. It drove me to pump into her faster, rougher, stronger. When I finally nutted with a guttural roar, I pulled out, yanked off the rubber, and spilled my seed along the small of her back, watching as it ran down the crack of her ass, marking, claiming.
I shot hard.
I shot motherfuckin’ hard.
I struggled to find my bearings, the fog taking its sweet-ass time to clear, mind and body spent. When was a woman too much and not enough? I’d spent years trying to reconcile Bella’s choice to toss me aside like yesterday’s trash. I’d strived to be better, stronger, more ruthless, more determined. I’d needed to prove to the world and to myself that I was more than just the youngest MacCabe. I was wrong to put so much stock into one person. Lost in the greatest feeling of ecstasy I’d ever known, I finally accepted this truth.
Otelia Mae was decidedly too much.
Bella O’Brien, on the other hand, was never really enough.
CHAPTER 28
Otelia
GOOD MORNING, MY love.
I know I’m due to see you at school in less than an hour, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you this: I love you. I love you. I love you. You are my everything, Odie. You have no idea the depts of my feelings for you. I know, I know, it’s too damn early in the morning for this sappy shit, but I just couldn’t help myself. Meet me by my locker before first bell. Did I tell you that I love you? Alright, alright, see you soon.
I listened to that voicemail for the rest of the night, over and over until sunlight peaked through my curtains at daybreak. Mac drove me home only after I’d convinced him that O’Brien wasn’t the one responsible for the fish incident. Whether he believed me or not, I’d needed to get away from him as quickly as possible. My head was a jumbled mess of confusion varnished with an unhealthy dash of self-loathing after the closeness we’d shared. I told myself it was just sex, fucking amazing sex, write-home-to-your-momma sex. Still and all, nothing more would ever come of it, not while I was a waitress and he was a crime lord. That much was certain.
Still, I needed my best friend to cosign my foolery.
It was the only way to rid myself of this guilty conscience.
I drove over to Nipsy’s hoping to catch Maribel between the morning rush and lunch crowd. It had always been my favorite part of the day when we worked together. We’d catch up on the latest gossip, sing sitcom theme songs off tune, or talk shit about how much we wanted to quit while filling empty saltshakers. I missed those times, but more than that, I missed my friend. It was me who’d created this distance between us. Jealousy and envy could suck big donkey dick. I wasn’t above groveling for her forgiveness. She would do the same for me.
48 Mac (A Junkyard Boys Novel) Page 16
