Escape: A Mob Stepbrother Romance

by Snow, Lucy

  I sat back in my chair and wondered about Greg. Had I missed the signs with him, or had he taken a wrong turn somewhere? I couldn’t really figure it out. I wouldn’t have dated him at all if I’d known he was into stuff like that, and I never really got that impression when we were dating. It just hadn’t worked out, like relationships, especially when people are in the early 20s mostly don’t.

  Could I have been blinded by young love and just not seen that he was really the kind of guy to get involved with drug dealing? Or with mobsters? Even now, after I’d seen him get killed in the middle of a deal I had trouble believing it. Greg wasn’t the best guy on the planet by any stretch, but I didn’t think of him as a criminal. I guess it went to show that you never really could know or trust someone.

  I looked around the cottage, going to the bathroom and washing my face, finding a new toothbrush behind the mirror and brushing my teeth. By the time I was done, I’d made up my mind.

  I wasn’t going to stick around here and wait for Ronan to save me again. As grateful as I was for his help up to this point I really didn’t need it anymore. Even if the Russians were after me, I just needed to get out of town for a few days, maybe a few weeks tops, and then I could come back and pick up my life again.

  What I didn’t need to do was wait around here for my stepbrother to come home and protect me. Just not my style. After I was done in the bathroom I decided to do a little clothes shopping and then figure out my plan for escape.

  I’d probably end up taking the bus, and I figured I’d put some expenses on Ronan’s credit card, keep all the receipts, and pay him back when I was back on my feet. I just didn’t want to be in his way - aside from the hot time in bed last night, he had seemed a little put off by having me around at all, and the feeling was definitely mutual.

  Once this was all behind us, we could go back to our regularly scheduled lives and stay out of each other’s hair, and definitely out of each other’s bed.

  I went back to the kitchen and opened the fridge, finding it suspiciously near-empty. Well, that wouldn’t do. If there was anything I could do to thank Ronan for the assist last night, it was cook him a nice meal. I sat back at the computer and found the nearest grocery store - only a few blocks from Pulse, and definitely in walking distance once I bought some clothes and got out of his.

  Just having the plan of getting out of town by myself made me feel so much better. I could feel a smile making its way across my face for the first time since I’d woken up, before I realized Ronan wasn’t in bed with me anymore.

  Chapter 09 - Ronan

  Night clubs during the day are like any other restaurant or bar, except there aren’t any customers around. They’re also much quieter. The staff cleans up from the night before, stocks the different bars, organizes the playlists with any changes, and if there’s going to be a live performance, coordinates with their tech people to set up, prep, and soundcheck all the musical equipment.

  It’s not as glamorous as it sounds, and by the time I got to Pulse that morning, the rest of the staff was already there, hard at work. I walked right in, waved to the staff and headed to the bar to pour myself some coffee, with a little extra kick to it courtesy of one of the many bottles of high priced liquor we stocked. Someone had brought donuts, and I helped myself to a couple, holding one in my teeth as I walked through the back and up the stairs toward my office.

  When I got there I found two donuts waiting for me. I smiled, dropping the donut in my mouth out and just barely catching it with my non-coffee hand before it hit the ground. Must have been Chelsea looking out for me, making sure a few donuts came my way before everyone else devoured them. The women on staff loved taking care of me like that. They all knew I’d had sex with each of them, and still regularly did, and if any of them were intimidated or hurt by that setup, they didn’t show it.

  I was looking over the numbers from last night on my computer, sales, inventory status, deliveries, guest lists, and VIPs for the upcoming few nights when I got a knock at the door.

  It was Sam; he wanted to go over last night’s numbers and any outstanding issues upcoming. Sam knew that’s what I looked at first, so when he found out I’d arrived he came up first thing. Sam knew the negotiations with the Russians would soon take up a lot of my time, so he helpfully was taking some of the day to day responsibilities of running Pulse and our other entertainment venues off my plate. I’d been working with Sam a few years, and he was, in my mind, one of the most trustworthy people I’d ever met.

  That still didn’t mean I could tell him about Kara, though. I still had to play her close to the vest and not give anything away until I could help her get out of town.

  We talked and went over numbers for half an hour before Sam went back onto the floor. Before he left, I mentioned to him that I would in and out of the club for the next few days on personal business. Sam nodded, and wished me luck before heading back down. I liked that Sam wasn’t the type to pry.

  I went back to my computer, but it was tough to concentrate on the figures in front of me with all the thoughts of Kara swirling around my head whether I wanted them to or not. And I definitely didn’t want them to.

  But I couldn’t get her out of there, and no amount of spreadsheets could help, it seemed. I ate another donut, sitting back in my chair and cursing under my breath the ability of my stepsister to traipse back into my life and into my bed and then into my mind, all in the space of a little over 12 hours. How did she do that?

  And why wasn’t I sure if I wanted her to stop doing it?

  I was getting nowhere. I had to get her out of town, and most importantly away from me. Kara without knowing it had found the secret to cracking my near-legendary resolve, and without that I couldn’t focus effectively and do what I had to do, both in my own interests and the interests of the family.

  This was an untenable situation and I had to fix it before anything else.

  Another knock at the door. I looked at my calendar, once again chuckling to myself at the idea of a mobster with a calendar. It said I didn’t have anything at the moment. I didn’t mind random visitors without an appointment, but with all this time spent on Kara I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

  “Come in,” I said, and waited for the door to open. It did, tentatively at first, and Chelsea came in, looking beautiful as always. Most of the time I saw her in her Pulse uniform dress, but today before the club opened, she was in a blue sundress that showed off her incredibly fit body very well.

  “Hey Boss, how are you?” She was bright and cheery as always.

  “Good, thanks for asking.” I looked back at my papers, but Chelsea came and stood in front of me.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, knowing just where she was going with this.

  She investigated the floor, her hands clasped in front of her like she was momentarily nervous. Chelsea was not a nervous or bashful girl, as a rule. “You looked a little stressed out last night, Boss, and I just wanted to make sure everything was OK.”

  I leaned back, putting my hands on her waist. “Thank you for asking, Chelsea,” I said, looking up at her deep blue eyes, focused intently on me, “you’re right, last night was a little strange, but I’ll be fine.”

  “OK, good, I’m glad to hear that,” as Chelsea crouched down in front of me, her face right in front of my crotch. I felt myself getting hard. “You know, Boss, I’m here for you if you need anything. All of us are. We like taking care of you.” She paused. “You know I like taking care of you.”

  “Do you? How so?”

  “Let me show you.” She reached up, bolder now, and unzipped my pants, sighing with delight as she took my rapidly hardening cock out of my pants. Her eyes gleamed with lust as she lowered her mouth onto it.

  I grabbed Chelsea’s head, as gently as I could and stopped her just before she closed her lips over the head, pushing her had back. “Wait, Chelsea,” I whispered, almost unable to believe that I was stopping this gorgeous blonde from sucki
ng me off in my office.

  “Hmm?” She had a far away look on her face, but she came back to reality. “Is everything OK? I really want to make you feel good.”

  “I know, I know. Now’s just not the right time. Perhaps another time soon?” As soon as I could get Kara out of my life again then I could get back to living the right way, carefree, and willing to let the girls who worked for me suck my cock whenever either of us felt like it. I just couldn’t right now.

  Chelsea turned glum, but smiled as she put my cock away and zipped me up, patting me lightly over my pants. “Just don’t stay in there too long, Boss. It’s not fair to keep all to yourself.”

  We laughed as she stood up and straightened her dress. “I’ll keep that in mind. Was there anything else?”

  “Nothing else. You call me if there’s any way I can help, yeah?”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Chelsea turned and stepped to the door. Before she opened I she turned back to me. “I just want to make sure you’re alright, Boss. We all care about you down there.”

  “Thanks.” And with that, Chelsea was out the door, closing it behind her. I heard her heels tap on the floor outside as she went down the corridor.

  Ugh. Kara really hand me wound up if I was turning down oral sex in the middle of the day. No wonder Chelsea was worried something was wrong. Something was wrong. I was off my game and it was all Kara’s fault.

  I sat there, brooding, mulling over the predicament I’d gotten myself into, made only more complicated by having sex with her last night. I couldn’t believe how bad a move that was - if I hadn’t succumbed to temptation like that, I was sure that by now I could have rid her from my thoughts and enjoyed Chelsea’s welcoming lips around my cock, like I should have been doing at that very moment.

  But no, I had to be worrying about my damn stepsister and forgoing offered sex!

  The buzzer on my desk intercom went off. I tapped the acknowledge button. “Boss, you’re gonna want to come down here,” Sam’s voice floated through the room robotically.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Arkady’s outside, says he wants to see you.”

  Shit.

  Time to get it together, Ronan. Put all that shit about Kara aside and get yourself locked up. Play time was over.

  “Let him in, give him a drink. I’ll be right down.” Sam acknowledged and signed off.

  Arkady coming here unannounced was surprising. Like me, he wasn’t the type to do anything without a purpose. If the Russians had an equivalent to me, Arkady was it. He was the up and comer, the point man for their dealings on the street and with other organizations.

  The difference between him and I was that I was more or less a civilized man. Arkady was a monster in vaguely human form.

  I stood up from my desk and checked my suit in the mirror to smooth it out and make sure Chelsea hadn’t ruffled me up too much. Image was important right now.

  I went downstairs to the club’s main floor and saw Arkady at the bar, with Sam standing on the other side, handing him a shot. No surprise, Arkady liked to drink heavy even before noon.

  I came to the bar, keeping my distance from him and approaching from an angle he could see me. I didn’t even want to give him the impression that I was thinking of coming up from behind, unannounced.

  I put on my best welcoming smile, the kind you use when someone you don’t like has just arrived. “Arkady! Nice to see you again.”

  He turned to me as he raised and downed the shot in one go, raising an eyebrow in my direction. “Ronan. Good. You here.”

  Arkady was dressed impeccably, down to individual hairs on his head. Not a thing was out of place. It really belied the kind of man I knew him to be - totally controlled in his appearance, but seemingly almost completely random in his actions. I knew from experience that he always had a purpose, but often it took more than I’d liked to finally figure out what that purpose was.

  Arkady was a formidable opponent, and I treated him as such, though on the surface of things we were civil to each other; we were always sizing the other up. Some day we’d stop circling and fight it out, but that day wasn’t today.

  At least, probably not. With Arkady, you never knew.

  He turned back to the bar and motioned for Sam to pour another. Sam looked at me; I nodded, and Sam made the pour. Arkady focused on the drink, and turned it back, slamming the empty glass on the counter, hard enough that if we’d invested in lower quality shot glasses in order to save a buck, it would have shattered.

  Arkady smiled to himself, probably because it hadn’t, and turned to me. “We talk. Your office?” He looked up at the window to my office.

  “Sure. What’s on your mind?” I wanted to know what this was about.

  “In office.” Arkady looked around like the entire room was listening in on us. Which wasn’t true at all - the rest of the staff had work to do, and even Sam had stepped away to attend to something further down the bar. The he pointed at the window to emphasize his point.

  I nodded, and held out my hand, directing him toward the back. He grunted when I pressed him to walk in front of me; if there was one thing I knew about Arkady, it was that he didn’t like surprises, and didn’t like setting himself up for one.

  Tough shit, asshole. My house, my rules. Our little standoff lasted a few moments only, and then Arkady walk towards the back without another word. I followed behind, just close enough to make him a little uncomfortable. In general, when Arkady was uncomfortable, that was good for me.

  When we entered my office, Arkady immediately went towards one of my lounge chairs and sat down. “Got drink?” He looked around, and smiled when he saw the bar on the other side of the room. “Pour.”

  I walked to the bar and poured myself some water, and some random stiff drink for Arkady, without paying too much attention. I handed in the drink and then sat down in the other lounge chair. I knew Arkady could tell that I wasn’t drinking, but I also knew that he didn’t care.

  I think if I had to sum up Arkady in one phrase it would be all consuming self interest. On a certain level, I had to admire the guy for it. Unfortunately, that admiration stopped when I actually had to deal with.

  Arkady drank his drink quickly, and looked around for more. He noticed the bottle sitting next to my chair, and motioned towards me. I handed over the bottle, watching as he took a long drink without bothering to pour into his class. Like I said, Arkady wasn’t exactly interested in coddling other people.

  Watched them drink for a minute or so before breaking the silence. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Arkady? Or is this purely a social call?”

  Arkady set the bottle down After one last swig. “No,” he said, still looking at the alcohol, “not social. Business.”

  This was out of the ordinary. Arkady didn’t come around just for any reason. I wonder if it had some he do with the upcoming negotiations; maybe he wanted to give me some extra information, or make some demands in advance. Whatever it was, I had to be on guard with what I said and how I responded. Arkady for all his other character quirks, was very good at figuring out other people.

  “But why? Can’t I just come over for drink?” He smiled, a Cheshire grin that I knew was the vanguard of something more sinister just barely under the surface. I had heard stories of Arkady and how his first predilection was toward violence.

  It was said that he preferred to negotiate after-the-fact with dead bodies, rather than talk to living people.

  “Of course you can. I’d just rather you tell us in advance first. That way we can roll out the red carpet and welcome you properly.” I was pretty sure he could tell I had added a glacier of sarcasm to my voice. Arkady didn’t often go for subtleties of language and wordplay, but he wasn’t an idiot.

  “Is better this way. No need for celebration.” Arkady leaned forward, encouraging me to do the same. “Talk good. But now, business.”

  “What have you got for me?”

  “Is not anything
I have for you. Is something you have for me.”

  “I’m not a mind reader, Arkady. Ask me what you want. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Looking for girl.”

  I laughed, but a pit in my stomach was already starting to form. I knew where this was going and I needed it not to go there. “Arkady, even with your way with words, I don’t doubt it’s easy for you to find a girl in this city.”

  Arkady didn’t take the bait. “A specific girl.”

  “Find her on Facebook. Or twitter. Or maybe a phone book.”

  “Maybe stop jokes for moment.”

  I sent back in my chair. “All right, Arkady. Tell me about this girl.”

  “Maybe in club last night. Dressed well. Name ‘Kara.’”

  Shit. There it was. Arkady was looking for Kara. This was bad news. Arkady, by all reports, including my own experiences with him, was pretty much a doberman pinscher given human form - if he latched onto something, he would not let it go till either it or he was dead.

  So far that had always worked out in Arkady’s favor.

  “What’s your interest in this girl?”

  “Want talk to her. Have business proposition.”

  “Something tells me your business propositions rarely end up good for the other party.”

  “Is none of your concern. Seen girl here?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, playing with it for a few seconds before showing me the screen.

  It was a picture of Kara. Not a recent one, and certainly not one from last night, but it was unmistakably my stepsister. So Arkady and his crew definitely knew who she was, and they at least had enough of a lead on her location to come here and asked me about her.

  I sat back and closed my eyes as if I was thinking hard, rolling through my memories. “Nope, can’t say that I remember a girl named Kara. But then again, I don’t get everyone’s name comes in here. And I don’t get a good look of everyone who shows up.”