The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play Book 2)

by B. B. Reid

  “Of course, dear.” Grace descended the stairs, and as she passed me in the foyer, she laid a soft hand on my arm and squeezed. Instantly, the tension left me as she floated into the kitchen.

  “Quickly,” Fox directed with an impatient wave. “Before any more distractions. Royal and Scarlett will be down in a minute.”

  I smiled at the mention of his teenaged twins. They gave him hell every chance they got. And just like everyone else Fox encountered, he had earned their resentment, Scarlett more so than her brother since she was without a cock and, therefore, served no real purpose to her father. It was Royal who would ensure an heir worthy enough for Fox’s dynasty. It all seemed so sixteenth century to me but to each his own.

  I followed Fox and Shane, who had been remarkably silent the entire exchange, into his office where we discussed operations and my efforts to weed out Thirteen’s spies. Every so often, one would infiltrate our ranks to seek out Fox. Thirteen wore marks the same as us, so I proposed full-body searches of all recruits, but it was a temporary solution at best. It was only a matter of time before Father caught on, and they found better ways to conceal themselves.

  The reality was that Fox’s days were numbered if we didn’t find and eliminate Father first. And now, with Jiménez demanding we take out Thirteen’s leader before he even considered supplying us the pressure to do so was becoming insurmountable. Thirteen was older, larger, and better connected. We paid a few cops to look the other way and intimidated anyone who didn’t see things our way, but Father had entire cities and politicians in his pocket. The line separating the once humble street gang from mafia were blurring every day.

  Thirteen was trafficking anything they could get their hands on—drugs, guns, and even humans. Meanwhile, we were reduced to the crumbs of crime—gambling rings, prostitution, and extortion. It was a miracle Thirteen hadn’t already crushed us under their shoe, but it was only a matter of time.

  My heart rate sped up at the thought of Thirteen bringing Exiled to an end, and as always, I wondered if it was hope or dread that I was feeling.

  MY STOMACH’S GROWLS GREW EVEN more intense as I drew closer to the Pizzeria. It was a popular tourist spot, and I knew the perfect mark would be waiting inside with a pocket full of cash. The money would only be wasted on some corny souvenir, which would just be stowed away and forgotten once they returned home, so I didn’t feel the least bit bad about robbing them. It was up to me to spend their money better—maybe on a nice juicy steak—so why not?

  Wren said I had to be the worst ‘homeless’ person in history.

  I honestly didn’t get his beef. Sure, a steak was a splurge, but at least it wasn’t drugs.

  And in Manhattan—the central hub for tourists—there were plenty of pockets to pick.

  Like the group leaving the Pizzeria now.

  I could practically smell the money. It overpowered even the scent of the pizza making my stomach growl. They all looked my age, maybe a year or two older, so I figured they were skipping school for some kind of double date. A guy with reddish brown hair and tattoos everywhere abandoned the girl he’d been flirting with by the door and joined them. He didn’t fit like a fifth wheel, so I figured he was the group’s resident playboy. I didn’t get a good look at any of their faces, but I didn’t need to. I only cared about what was in their wallets.

  They walked a short distance before one of the guys stopped in front of a shop overflowing with souvenirs and ducked inside. His friends, the one covered in tattoos and the other with an impressive set of muscles, followed after him while the girls stood on the sidewalk talking. Well, the petite one with dark brown skin and doe eyes chatted. Her friend, sporting a messy dark blonde ponytail, brooded while only pretending to listen. I liked her already.

  The guys were flashier, so I had been hoping to lift one of their wallets, but I guess their girlfriends would have to do. The broody one was distracted, too deep in her thoughts to see me coming, so I chose her as my victim. Picking up my pace and making sure to keep my head down, I purposely bumped into her, and while she was busy fighting to stay upright, I slipped my hand into her pocket, mumbled an apology and kept moving with her wallet and her cell phone in tow. The cell was just a beat-up flip phone, and her wallet only had forty bucks. I was cursing my bad luck and had half a mind to turn back and give the shit back when I heard someone roar my name.

  I knew that voice, and right now, I loathed that voice.

  I knew he would be looking for me.

  That morning a month ago when Wren jumped from my window and didn’t look back, I decided I wouldn’t, either. When he’d texted that something came up and he wouldn’t be able to drive me to school, after all, I knew he was avoiding me. It was the same song and dance, and I should have been used to it by now. What pissed me off the most is that I’d waited for him anyway. Every night, I lay awake waiting for my window to slide open and for him to fill my room as easily as he’d done my heart, but he never showed. On the morning of the third week—the longest he’d ever stayed away—I walked away from the shelter the Hendersons provided.

  That had been a week ago, and I’d left everything behind. The cash he always seemed to leave lying around, the phone I knew he was tracking, and my foolish, broken heart.

  I should have known it wouldn’t last.

  Even in a city with over eight million people, he always managed to find me. We might as well have been the only two people on the planet.

  Before I could run, my feet briefly left the ground when he grabbed my hood and yanked me into him. “Give it back,” he growled.

  I wrestled to get out of his hold when his scent and heat began to cloud my judgment. I wanted him to kiss me even if it was hard and punishing. I had a feeling that sex with Wren would hurt so good. “How did you find me?”

  He ignored me as usual and shoved his hands in my pockets searching. I huffed when he found the wallet and phone I’d lifted. I didn’t get why he cared so much. He was a member of the most brutal gang in this city and had done things much worse than pick a few pockets.

  Our names should have been Pot and Kettle. We were constantly at each other’s throats to be better when neither of us would listen.

  He dragged me down the sidewalk, and like a dick, he made me face the girl I’d stolen from. Now that I was getting a better look, I started to debate if she was rich at all. Not only were her plain clothes worn but she lacked the vibe that said she was better than everyone else. She seemed wary as her worried gaze flicked between Wren and me, and I could tell she was debating if I needed rescuing. I snorted. No one else in this world could handle Wren as I could. I crossed my arms and waited, not the least bit sorry.

  “This belongs to you,” he said as he held out my wallet.

  Her attention shifted to her tattered wallet—another red flag that I’d misread my mark—and her big brown eyes became almost black.

  “Thanks,” she said tightly. “How did you know?”

  I just barely refrained from smiling when he scowled down at me and said, “She does this a lot.”

  I knew he was thinking about the night we’d met. We had both almost died, but it didn’t stop my foolish heart from painting the memory as a magical night that could have only been bettered by one unfulfilled promise. The thought of his touch sent a tingle down my spine while heat spread upward from my toes, melting by bones and turning my legs to jelly while igniting the ball of tension in my stomach. Not wanting them to see my girlish infatuation, I sneered at the girl whose pocket I’d picked.

  “Big fucking deal. I’m homeless, and I have a better phone, and her wallet only had forty bucks. What kind of rich kids are you?” I cringed when I realized I sounded like a brat, but at least I didn’t sound like a horny brat.

  “Lou,” Wren said warningly.

  The girl’s anger faded when she seemed to study Wren closely, and although I didn’t see interest in her gaze, I was ready to scratch her eyes out anyway.

  “Her mom was a hotel ma
id,” the girl with whiskey eyes and brown skin remarked. “And my dad coaches high school football. What makes you think we’re rich?”

  “Been trailing you since the Pizzeria. If you’re not rich, your boyfriends definitely are.” And as if I’d conjured them up, their guys stormed from the little souvenir shop. I smiled knowing Wren’s day just went from shit to diarrhea shit. A little explosive and a whole lot of messy. “Here they come, bestie, and man, do they looked pissed, but you can take them.” All three stepped from the store, a unit moving as one as they tactfully surrounded us. The pretty muscled one with light brown hair and the greenest eyes was the first to speak. The tattooed one was grinning and rubbing his hands together like he had been served a buffet. He was so damn tantalizing I was caught off guard when I felt moisture pooling inside my mouth. Still, it was nothing compared to the tsunami, earthquake, rain, and hellfire Wren stirred inside me with just a glance.

  I turned away.

  “What’s up, Danny Boy? You look…different.”

  “Harlan,” the infamous Danny Boy greeted with a nod.

  I’d heard his name come up more than once when Wren thought I wasn’t listening. I never thought I’d meet the thorn firmly embedded in Wren’s side. I certainly didn’t expect some preppy-looking god, but I guess it made sense why Wren so obviously didn’t like him.

  I was fantasizing about how many steak and lobsters I could buy with his wallet when Wren said, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

  I was taken aback by the rising hostility in his tone. Sure, Wren didn’t seem to like him very much, but his loyalty to his brothers was unwavering. Right now, he looked like he wanted to rip Danny Boy’s gorgeous head from his body and play kickball with it.

  Danny Boy positioned his body in front of the blonde with a million questions in her eyes, blocking her from view. “Why would I do that?”

  Wren simply leaned around him and asked the girl for her name. If she were smart, she wouldn’t answer. I knew he would never hurt her, but Danny Boy didn’t know that, and Wren didn’t want him to know. I couldn’t see what was happening, but her silence was telling. Wren stood to his full height, and I recognized the approval in his eyes as he said, “You trained her well.”

  I blinked a few times wondering where my best friend had gone. I didn’t recognize the boy standing next to me.

  “We’re going now,” Danny announced. They all moved at the same time, walking away with tense shoulders and quick steps.

  “I’ll see you soon, Danny Boy!” My eyebrows rose at Wren’s petty taunt. I’d never known him to stoop and wondered even more about the boy who had gotten so far under his skin.

  Wren’s eyes were bluer than ever when his attention shifted to me. “Let’s go.”

  I fell into step next to him, knowing it was useless to refuse him. “So what was that all about?”

  “Business,” he answered curtly. “Where have you been?” He didn’t seem interested in the answer, however, as he glanced over his shoulder.

  “Oh, you know,” I said with a shrug. “Around.”

  He signaled for a taxi, and I yelped when I felt his painful grip on my arm. He shoved me into the back seat, gave the cabby cash, and the Hendersons’ address before turning those stormy blue eyes back on me.

  “Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred fucking wallets. Go straight the fuck home, Lou.”

  I crossed my arms and pouted. “I don’t have a home.”

  He grabbed my face with gentle hands, and for a second, I thought—I hoped—he would kiss me. “Your home is with me. Don’t run away from it again.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You ran away to get my attention,” he said, cutting me off. “You have it.”

  I didn’t bother denying it knowing he’d read me like a first-year novel. “You ran away first,” I said shyly.

  I thought he’d deny it, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry.” And then he kissed me. Lips that I yearned to feel brushed my forehead before he pulled away, slammed the door shut, and pounded the roof. The cab jerked away, and I watched through the back window as he sprinted through the crowd in the opposite direction. There was only one reason he wouldn’t see to it that I followed his orders.

  I sat back and sighed.

  Danny Boy.

  LOU HAD CALLED MY BLUFF.

  My heart had been in my throat for a fucking week, and now that I’d found her, I could finally breathe again. She knew exactly what I’d do if she walked away and played me as easily as if my notes were written on a music sheet. I didn’t have time to be ashamed about that as I raced through the crowd. I’m not sure I even could be. I would abandon all reason just to follow her to the ends of the earth. Sometime during my search for her, I decided I wouldn’t run from her anymore. I still had no intentions of giving her my cock, but I could no longer risk being on edge around her. I already had plans to visit Kendra this week and finally pick up where we’d left off when I met Lou.

  She’d never have to know.

  And even though my stomach turned at the thought of lying to Lou, more than I already had, I knew taking her to bed would be a worse offense.

  I managed to catch up to Danny Boy and his friends since they’d parked about twenty blocks away. I flagged a cab as they entered a parking garage and waited with a direct view of the entrance. There was only one way in and out. Not even five minutes later, the driver’s window of a red Jeep rolled down and the tattooed punk I caught eyeing Lou with a little too much interest for my liking swiped his ticket before speeding into traffic.

  “Follow them,” I ordered the cabby. One thing I loved about this city was that there was no shortage of weird shit happening, so he didn’t bother asking questions before trailing the Jeep.

  When we arrived in some ritzy town I never even knew existed, I decided I’d seen enough. I directed the cabby back to New York.

  I’d always known Danny Boy wasn’t who he claimed to be, but I hadn’t expected some rich prick looking for a thrill. For a second, I suspected him of being just another Thirteen spy. He was just too damn good at being bad to be anything else.

  I chuckled and told myself I wouldn’t be back.

  Unfortunately, I already knew it was a lie.

  Danny Boy wasn’t who I thought, but the current pulling me toward him didn’t abate. It only grew stronger.

  Lou didn’t awaken when I climbed through her window, weary and angry, late the following night. My prediction had come true. I’d gone back to Blackwood Keep, and against my better judgment, I confronted Danny Boy.

  Or rather Ever McNamara.

  Heir to a multibillion-dollar hotel empire.

  And the only son of Thomas McNamara.

  Surprisingly, what bothered me most wasn’t Danny Boy or his double life. Something about his father had seemed familiar to me. As if I’d known him in another lifetime.

  I shook my head as I toed off the black and white striped Adidas Lou had picked out, swearing the sneakers almost made me look normal. I snorted, and with a moan, she shifted in her sleep causing the sheet covering her lower half to slip dangerously low. Before I could rethink it, I ran my fingers over the curve of her naked hip now bare to me. Thoughts of Ever McNamara fled to the recesses of my mind as I marveled at the smoothness of her skin.

  It was a surprising contrast to her hardened demeanor, but I always knew it was a front. She was a pillar, no doubt standing tall and appearing strong, but one day, her cracked foundation would crumble, and I’d make damn sure I was around to pick up the pieces.

  Even if she didn’t want me to be.

  There were times when she didn’t appreciate just how seriously I took my role as her best friend. She claimed I acted like her father rather than her friend. If that was what she called making sure no one ever hurt her again, then sure—I’d daddy the fuck out of her.

  Another moan slipped from her lips when my fingers reach the edge of her frilly blue panties, but this time, it was the sound
of my name on her lips. For a second, I panicked, thinking she’d caught me perving on her, but when her even breaths continued, I realized she was still very much out of it, and a smile slowly formed as my fingers dipped lower.

  “What are you dreaming right now, Lou?”

  Her breath seemed to catch as I continued to toy with the seam of her panties.

  “Are you dreaming of me?”

  She sighed in response.

  “You are, aren’t you?”

  A low whine escaped her.

  “I know what you’re after, little Valentine. I’ve known all along.” We both seemed to stop breathing when my fingers dipped beneath her panties and I felt her smooth skin. “How can you be sure you can handle me when I haven’t even kissed you yet?” I swallowed, cursing myself but then decided to allow myself honesty. At least this once.

  She was writhing now, attempting to relieve the ache I knew was building, but we both knew it was useless. Nothing short of getting me inside her would ever do.

  “You want to come.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. “But you don’t get to come. You’ve been bad, Lou. This is how I’ll punish you.” I freed my fingers from her panties and stepped back. As if I’d snapped my fingers, breaking her from my spell, she jackknifed from the bed, breathing hard and looking around in confusion. When her gaze pierced the dark and found me, I remain perfectly still, my hands already in my pockets, pretending my fingers weren’t burning with the memory of her soft skin.

  “Wren?”

  My eyebrow rose. “You expecting someone else?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said as she began playing with the ends of her hair. “Miles said he’d stop by.”

  She peeked at me from under her long lashes, and my teeth gnashed together as a smug smile broke apart her sleepy pout. She knew exactly how I felt about that prick who was always sniffing up her ass.

  “Did you warn Miles that I’d have a bullet waiting for him if he does?”