by Piper Stone
“I’m finished,” she said as she closed the case, her shoulders heaving. “Am I going to see this place again?”
“I don’t know the answer at this point.”
She didn’t latch the case, standing still for a few seconds. Then she moved around me, searching through one of her drawers. When she refused to allow me to see what she’d grabbed, holding some prized possession against her chest, I snagged her arm.
“Not so fast. I certainly can’t trust you.”
Hissing, she tried to keep from yielding to my demand. I forcefully yanked her arm, twisting it until the item fell from her hand. A brush. “Stop,” she pleaded, grabbing it as soon as I let go of her arm.
“Interesting choice.”
Her fury as well as a glimpse of embarrassment was highlighted by her reddened cheeks. She shoved it into one of the side pockets on the suitcase. “It’s all I have left of my mother.”
After she yanked the luggage off her bed, I took it from her hand. “Time to go.”
“I hate you,” she whispered as she stormed out of the room.
I was glad she did. That would make it easier to keep her out of my mind.
And my heart.
As we walked past the kitchen, the sound of the barking dogs had changed, increasing in intensity. My instincts were immediate, yet not fast enough. A single glint of sun was confirmation that we’d been compromised. I dropped the bag as I reached for my weapon, immediately firing a single shot through the glass panels on the kitchen door. The sound of glass cracking meant the asshole had managed to get off a shot. Then I caught a single glimpse of the assassin as he prepared to fire for a second time. I bellowed as I wrapped my arm around Acadia, dragging her to the floor.
Another two shots were fired, one pinging the area just behind. The fucker had shot low to the ground.
She screamed, struggling with me as I dragged her out of the assassin’s line of sight. If the bastard had hurt her, I would cut out his tongue as the start to a night filled with torture.
“Sshhh… It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, covering a good portion of her body with mine.
The sound of pounding footsteps forced me to alter my position, still covering her as I took aim, hissing when my Capo raced in from the front.
Alejandro had his weapon in both hands, moving quickly past me. “What the fuck?”
“Motherfucker came from the alley.” I noticed one of the bullets had hit the wall near where she’d been standing. Jesus Fucking Christ. I was going to hunt the asshole down and shove my weapon down his throat.
My Capo wasted no time, racing out the back door.
“What is happening?” she asked, finally clinging to me instead of fighting.
“An asshole made a serious mistake. Are you hurt?” I pulled her away, checking her over for any sign a wayward bullet had injured her. When she said nothing, I shook her gently. “Talk to me, Acadia. Are you hurt?”
“Na… No. I’m okay.” She pressed her hand against my chest, taking gasping breaths.
“Goddamn it!” I’d been a fucking fool. “I need you to stay right here. You will do that for me. Do you understand?”
“What if he returns?” Her question was the first time she appeared vulnerable.
I rubbed my hand on her face. “Trust me. The asshole is long gone. I’ll be right back.”
Acadia nodded, huddling against the wall and holding her knees.
I shifted to the back door, storming outside and into the alley, racing toward the side street less than a half block away. Then I heard the sound of screeching tires. I made it to the street just as an older black sedan shot around the corner. While I pointed my gun in the direction, I knew better than to fire off a shot in the middle of a neighborhood.
Damn it.
What the hell was going on?
I heard two rapid pops and headed for the corner. Cobra had taken the shots, blowing out one of the asshole’s tires. Within seconds, the driver lost control, ramming into a parked car.
Fuck.
The horn immediately began to blare, the sound nothing more than a beacon for nosy neighbors to crawl out of the safety of their homes.
The last thing I’d wanted to do was draw attention. We’d have about two minutes before the shit hit the fan.
All three of us converged on the car, the sight of a single bullet hole in the driver’s side window forcing a snarl. The asshole was slumped over the seat and there was no movement, but that didn’t indicate a thing. Using the sleeve of his jacket, Cobra yanked open the door, both soldiers ready to drive several bullets into the man’s brain.
I could see blood sprayed against the windshield. Cobra’s shot had been accurate, the single bullet going through the center of his brain. The shot I’d managed had slammed into his shoulder. When I tugged the assassin away from the steering wheel, the horrific sound stopped immediately. I quickly did a scan. The driver was well dressed, wearing an expensive dark suit. In his early thirties, he was clean cut and well-armed.
“Get Acadia now. We need to get the hell away from here,” I instructed Cobra before checking the man’s pockets for any form of identification, finding nothing as I’d expected. The vehicle had been swept clean and given the nature of the attempted assassination, I’d bet the car was totally off the radar. I ripped his shirt, looking for the telltale markings of the biker gang.
There was none, not that the clean-cut asshole had the look of a member.
If I had to guess, I’d say the man was a mercenary for hire, not something the Los Pirados would bother doing. Seconds later, I heard the sound of sirens.
“Fuck.”
“He came out of nowhere,” Alejandro stated.
“Yeah? Well, that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed as hell. We’re leaving as soon as the plane is ready.”
“You got it, boss.”
As I backed away, I was cognizant that several close neighbors had ventured out of their homes to see what was going on. It would be necessary to contact the local police captain, a man just recently placed on our roster, his ugly little secret regarding a Ponzi scheme he had on the side something he’d certainly want to keep quiet. This would be an excellent test for his newfound loyalty.
I jogged back to the waiting SUV just as Acadia was about to be pushed into the vehicle. She darted a glance toward the sedan, her face pinched. “Just get inside. He’s not going to hurt you. We need to get going.”
When she finally gazed in my direction, her eyes opened wide.
“Oh, my God. You’re bleeding,” she exclaimed.
Chapter 7
Vincenzo
Pain.
I’d grown accustomed to pain years before, shot twice before this. The agony in my shoulder was nothing in comparison to the anger I had yet to let go. We’d taken off without incident, the police captain assuring me that my name would never be attached to the police investigation. However, he’d been told to keep me informed as to determining the asshole’s identity.
I had no doubt he’d follow through with my orders. I also didn’t think he wanted a bloody turf war on his hands to deal with.
“Take off your shirt.”
I was jarred by the tone of Acadia’s voice and had to smile. “Are you worried about me, sweetheart?”
She stood in front of me, her hands on her hips. “First of all, I’m not your sweetheart. And more important, since you were too stubborn to go to a hospital, I think it’s a good idea if I checked to see if the bleeding stopped or if the bullet is still imbedded. Don’t you?”
“You should listen to her, boss. Doesn’t appear it went clean through,” Alejandro said quietly.
“Fine.” As I stood, she was determined to help me remove my jacket. Unfortunately, my Capo was right. There was no sign of an exit wound.
“Now, take off your shirt and don’t argue with me,” she commanded, giving me an actual smile. No one talked to me that way.
When I hesitated, she huffed. “Jesus. Let me help y
ou.” As she unfastened the buttons on my shirt, I drank in her natural perfume. The fact I’d been worried about her safety remained a question in my mind.
One I wasn’t willing to answer at this point. In doing so, I’d be forced to admit that our connection was already more than just a physical attraction. That didn’t bode well for my lifestyle or my line of work. That certainly wasn’t anything I wanted in my life.
Another flash of pain jolted my system as she eased the material off my shoulders, taking her time to tug the sleeves away from my arms.
“You’re lucky,” she commented as she peered at the wound. “An inch to the left and you wouldn’t be here.”
“You know something about bullet wounds?” I asked casually.
“Do you have any kind of first aid supplies on this luxury bus?” She directed her question at Alejandro.
He chuckled before rising from his seat. “Yeah, I think we do.” When he walked by, he gave me a knowing look, as if he could tell what was going through my mind. The man had spent enough time with me to know I cared about no one but my family and even then, I loathed the family gatherings and birthday parties.
Other than for Michael’s young twins. I adored the babies, doting on them whenever I had the chance.
“I’ve done my share of patching up people in my life. It’s a product of living a rough lifestyle,” Acadia admitted, tossing the bloody shirt to the side then moving around me to take a look at my back. “Jesus.”
The fact she’d told me something about herself made me even more curious. What had she endured in her life? “What does that mean?”
“It means I can see the damn bullet. I have no idea how or why it didn’t go clean through. You must have some tough skin, just like the rest of you.”
I half laughed, although the simple gesture reminded me that I’d been shot.
“I’m going to try and remove it, unless you’ll consider going to a hospital when we arrive in New Orleans.”
“That’s not the best idea for a member of the King family.”
“Of course. That would lead to too many questions. If I’m not mistaken, doctors are required to report any gunshot wounds to the police. Then again, I suppose you own every captain and officer. Right?”
Her continue audacity in challenging me was both reckless and endearing. “In my business, the family does what’s necessary in order to provide for our loved ones.”
“Business. You make it sound like you’re a legitimate corporation instead of a criminal element unfit for society.”
When Alejandro returned, a first aid kit in his hand, I could tell he’d overheard the conversation. “Don’t ask questions if you don’t want to learn the answers. I don’t think you’ll like what you hear.”
“As if I like what I’ve seen,” she countered. “I need large tweezers or a knife of some kind, alcohol and swabs. What’s in the kit?”
Alejandro hesitated, glancing into my eyes. I gave him a nod as a go-ahead. He opened the box, riffling through the contents.
“Not much in here but swabs and Band-Aids,” he answered.
“No alcohol? No antiseptic?” she demanded. “What am I supposed to do to get this out? Do one of you have a pocketknife?”
He set the box down and shrugged.
I debated whether or not I wanted to offer her my knife. While I doubted that she’d attempt to kill me, she could certainly make her mark if desired. I stared at my Capo before slipping my hand into my pocket, offering her my blade while instructing Alejandro, “Get the vodka.”
“Yes, boss,” he said begrudgingly.
“A bucket or bowl too and maybe a towel of some kind,” she snapped.
She tried to yank the knife out of my hand, but I resisted. “Listen to me. I’m going to have to trust you that you will do as you say. Can I do that?”
Her grip still firm, she didn’t answer for a few seconds. “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you mean. When I do, I assure you that it will be much more painful.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, releasing my hold. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Alejandro handed her the bottle, placing the bowl and towel she’d requested on the table behind her. I twisted until I could watch as she first poured the liquor over the knife, placing it on one of the swabs.
“This is going to hurt. Do you want a swig before I do this?” she asked, holding out the bottle.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have.”
When she poured a good amount of the liquor down my shoulder, the biting anguish was instant. I gritted my teeth, inhaling deeply. There was something so caring about the way she carefully cleaned the area, her gentle touch startling. I wasn’t used to anyone being gentle with me, including the few women I’d been with.
“Okay. I think I’m ready. I’m serious. This is going to hurt.” She seemed concerned, taking a few seconds to look me in the eyes.
“It’s all right, Acadia.” I turned away, fisting my hand. When she started, I was forced to take several deep breaths, but I was able to drive the pain into another realm, concentrating on the anger that remained. I was going to hunt the bastard down who’d hired the hitman. And I would enjoy every second of carving out his heart with the same knife she was using. No one fucked with someone I cared about.
Another fucking thought.
Another realization.
I had to be out of my freaking mind.
She took her time, her soft grunts and scattered breathing indicating she was taking the task very seriously. When I heard a ping, I grinned.
“I think I got it all. However, you should still see someone.” She cursed under her breath as she recleaned the area.
“I assure you that it’ll be fine.”
“Uh-huh. I see another scar similar in design. What a nasty little corporation you must own,” she murmured then applied a gauze pad. “Stay still.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The girl had bigger balls than a hell of a lot of assholes I’d known in my life. I actually liked the feisty woman as well as hungered for her. Just the thought and my cock twitched into life, desire roaring to the surface. Now wasn’t the time to indulge in my needs. There was far too much to do.
“I think you’ll live. If you have any aspirin or something stronger, I suggest you take it. What am I saying?” she laughed. “You can withstand any kind of pain. Right?”
A moment of ugliness formed in my mind, memories from the past that I couldn’t stand to think about. “Not every kind of pain.” I heard the anguish in my voice and growled softly. The last thing I needed to do was show any kind of weakness.
To her.
To my Capo.
Hell, to myself.
It was time to prepare for a possible war, not fall into the darkness from the past.
I grabbed my shirt, moving away as I slid my arm into the sleeve, gingerly pulling it over my shoulder. When I turned to face Acadia, her eyes were shimmering, darting back and forth as she studied me. “Thank you. I appreciate what you did.”
She disinfected and wiped the knife on a clean towel before lowering the blade and handing it back to me. “See? I didn’t try and hurt you. That’s not what I’m made of.”
I took it from her hand and instantly the electricity soared as our fingers touched. She obviously felt our intense connection, her mouth twisting as she lowered her eyes. After shoving it into my pocket, I grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a swig. Maybe she needed to see that I wasn’t made of steel, just flesh and tainted blood.
Perhaps she’d feel better if I explained my world, the way my father had raised us. There were no choices of doing anything else but going into the family business. How my brother Dante had been able to convince the powerful man that he wanted to serve his country in the military, I would never know. I’d hated Dante for a period of time after he’d left, but I’d learned my brother had endured far more horrific things than I’d ever had to deal with.
I was just the playboy.
I took another swig then fought to keep from slamming the bottle on the table. Why was it that this woman challenged every aspect of my being, forcing me to take a hard look at a life that I’d been born into, as if I could make a change or alter the future? How had she managed to get under my skin in just a few freaking hours?
Damn it.
“We’ll be landing in a few minutes, Acadia. I suggest you strap yourself in,” I instructed as I turned away.
She was right about one thing.
The nightmare was just beginning.
“I get it,” I snapped as I paced the floor. There was something grating about Cristiano’s voice. I could tell he was concerned, but not just about my welfare. Anytime we were faced with obstacles, his aggressive personality took over. While his love affair with Emily had been unconventional as hell, the man actually marrying the same woman whose testimony had put him in prison, she’d managed to tame him for the most part.
Except when the family was placed in crisis. That’s exactly what he’d thrown out the minute he’d called.
“Goddamn it, Vincenzo. I don’t think you do. You’re playing with fire fucking with that biker gang, the same one I told you was a bad idea to get involved with,” Cristiano snarked.
“You know exactly why I made that decision. I don’t think Angel was stupid enough to come up with the idea of stealing from us alone. The bigger picture is what we need to concentrate on here.”
“You mean like worrying whether the Los Pirados will make a trip to New Orleans to retaliate for the loss of their brother?”
Huffing, I rubbed my eyes, remaining in front of the window. I said nothing for a few seconds. “What would you have done?”
When he hesitated, I smiled.
Cristiano laughed. “I think you’re becoming more like me every day. I’m not certain if that’s a compliment or not. I don’t like this shit at all. We’re being challenged from all sides. What did that chauvinistic twirp tell you again?”
