Fallen Angel: Broken Saint Duet Part Two

by E. M. Gayle

  "This kitchen is awesome," she said, looking in one direction after another. "Is this your pantry?" she pointed at the largest double-door cabinet across the spacious room.

  "Yeah. Spices are in the drawer below the cooktop, and everything else you might need is probably in the refrigerator. Do you have any idea what you'd like to eat? I can check for the ingredients."

  "I've learned a few of the basic Italian sauces, white sauce being the latest. We can make that, if that works for you." The nervous look on her face almost made me laugh. She had absolutely nothing to worry about with me when it came to cooking.

  "I'm happy with about anything you'd like. I'm not picky at all. Except for olives. Black, green, I hate them all." I'd seen her eat them out of her martinis on many occasions so I knew she did not have the same aversion to them that I did.

  "Really? Wow. I love olives."

  "I know, which is why I mentioned it. You can literally feed me anything else in the world, and even if it's not my favorite, I won't think twice about it."

  “Okay. Duly noted. I will not put any olives in your food ever."

  There was something in the way she said that which made me believe this would not be the last time we'd share a meal together. She'd probably meant nothing by it, but I couldn't get it out of my head. As far as I was concerned, she could stay forever.

  "I was serious before about not letting you marry Ronin. If you think that makes me sound like a bully, I'll live with that."

  "I'm not sure you or I have complete control in that decision."

  "Why? Other than this idea that you have an obligation to your family. How can your father make you do anything? He can’t force you to marry."

  Her body hitched a moment before she leaned into my enormous commercial-sized refrigerator that had come with the place. I'd hit a nerve. There was definitely something she wasn't telling me.

  "The obligations to family aren't just perceived. It's part of who we are. It's an honor thing, and in our family, honor means more than nearly everything else."

  "And was it honorable that your father had one of his men inject you with a chemical that instantly rendered you helpless so that he could kidnap you?" I slapped my hands down on the island, and she flinched. "Would it be honorable if he killed you because you couldn't deliver the diamonds?"

  "Please don't yell at me, Rock. You don't understand. Family is so complicated. Especially ours."

  Guilt pinged through him. He hadn't meant to yell. "Trust me, I get complicated families. However, as far as I'm concerned, your father broke whatever honor he had about family. I can't trust he won't try to snatch you again, and I'm not confident being his daughter is enough to keep you alive if he does."

  "I know," she said, setting the fresh carton of heavy cream down on the island next to the stove. "But that doesn't mean I can just hide from him, either. I can tell him what happened."

  "You're going to tell your father that you gave the diamonds to me, but that they turned out to be fake?"

  She shook her head as she gathered the rest of her supplies and turned on the burner underneath the pan she'd pulled out. "Now that would be a death warrant, for sure. But if you don't have the real diamonds, then there is only one other person who can."

  It only took a moment for the answer to click. Son of a bitch. "Ronin knew about the diamonds?"

  "Yes. My original plan was to give them to my father in exchange for my freedom. Only, when he turned on me, I realized nothing would change my fate with my father. I would have to marry Ronin, no matter what. I also thought at some point that maybe I could entice Ronin into a deal with those stupid gems. But that blew up in my face, too. He laughed at me. He called them trivial and practically worthless. Which is why, when I found out the truth about you, I didn't care if you had them. Hell, you could have arrested me for stealing them and I wouldn't have cared."

  "But if Ronin stole them from you and switched them for fakes, then he did care about them." My mind was turning with ideas in super speed. I could barely keep up. "Do you have any idea what he would do with them?"

  She slowly shook her head in tandem with the spoon she worked through her sauce. "He hates my father. I don't know why, but if I had to guess, it's something big. He's so hot and cold about our marriage that half the time I think I have nothing to do with the reason he's here."

  "That's actually rather ominous. If Ronin has a hidden agenda, and it would not surprise me if he did, then we have bigger problems than I even thought." He was starting to see all the puzzle pieces laid out in his head, but how they all fit together remained a mystery. He was going to need some extra assistance to work through this.

  Silence descended in the kitchen as we both got lost in our thoughts. By the time I shook myself free, Nova had finished her sauce and cooked pasta to go with it. I rounded the island and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."

  "It didn't bother me at all. We both have a lot on our mind."

  "It smells really good. Are you going to let me try it?" While the words were utterly true, it was the sight of her bare legs that had my full attention. Not to mention the fact she wore nothing underneath that shirt, which meant nothing to stop me...

  "It will be ready in a few minutes."

  I turned her in my arms and placed a kiss on her soft mouth this time, bending her backwards. "And what if I can't wait?" I lifted a hand to brush her hard nipples through the flimsy cotton of my shirt. My scent on her created a heady combination that was all but impossible to ignore.

  "Then don't wait," she said, sounding as provocative as she did demure.

  "You drive me fucking crazy. Do you know that? Lift up that shirt and bend over the counter. I'm about to fuck you so ha—"

  A chime sounded in the distance at the same time my cell phone beeped.

  "What was that?" she asked, looking as on the edge as I felt.

  "Shit. That was a lot faster than I expected."

  "What was? Rock, what's going on?"

  I frowned. "It looks like what I want is going to have to wait after all. We've got company."

  "Company?" she shrieked. "I thought you said no one knew where this place was."

  "They didn't. At least, not until earlier this morning. I called my brother and he looped in the club. If we're going back to Vegas, we aren't doing it alone or without a plan."

  "Your brother? He's here?"

  "Yeah. And likely JD and the whole club. You should probably put some clothes on. Preferably something that covers everything. I don't need any of those horny fuckers eyeballing my woman and pissing me off."

  "Do you mean the motorcycle club that you used to belong to? They are all here, right now." She looked shellshocked, although I didn't know what the big deal was. They were just men. Most of them were good guys, and I could count on all of them to help.

  "You don't have anything to worry about. I don't think anyone bites. At least they better fucking not."

  "Oh my God." She backed away from me. "Why didn't you warn me?"

  "Seriously, relax Nova. They're here to help, and at this point we really need it. There's no need to freak out. No one else knows where we are."

  "But it's your dad. I can't meet the family like this."

  I clamped my lips to hold back my laugh. I hadn't thought of it like that, and I shouldn't be amused at her distress. But it was pretty fucking funny watching her freak out about meeting my father. He had enough goddamn sense not to say anything to her she wouldn't like.

  He'd better.

  Chapter 15

  Nova

  * * *

  I disappeared into the bedroom to search for something appropriate to wear, cursing Rock under my breath the whole time. I kind of wanted to throttle him. I didn't think I was ready to meet his father at the moment, and especially not under these circumstances.

  "Damn, son. What smells so good in here?" The question sounded gruff and gravelly all at the same time. It caused the
hairs to stand up on the back of my neck. I couldn't make out Rock's response as I closed the door behind me, but nothing was going to erase the nerves now.

  I guess all things considered, it shouldn't really matter what his family thought about me. It’s not like Rock and I were girlfriend and boyfriend. I had a fiancé, although why I had to keep reminding myself of that, I couldn't fathom. Plus, Rock had made his feelings on the matter of Ronin pretty damned clear. I wasn't sure what the hell I believed in right now, but I did think he meant what he'd said.

  I looked through his closet and his drawers in search of something I could potentially wear, and came up with nothing that wouldn't look ridiculous. I retreated to the bathroom where I'd left my clothes after my shower last night. They were a wrinkled hot mess, but they were going to have to do. A few minutes later I was dressed and ready to go, until I caught myself in the mirror and froze.

  Without makeup I looked like a teenager. I'd learned early on after leaving home that in order to be taken seriously I couldn't look like a fifteen-year-old. If only Rock had thought to pack my toiletry bag before kidnapping me.

  I snickered. My train of thought had veered into the ridiculous and I needed to rein it in. It didn't matter what those men out there thought of me. I wasn't here to win them over. I didn't even want to ask for their help. To do so made me uncomfortable at best. As much as I tried to ignore it, Cullotta blood still ran through my veins, and our privacy had been drilled into me from early childhood.

  I could share Nova with the world without so much as a blink of an eye, but Catherine... Well, that was a different story. With a final smirk at myself in the window I tipped my body forward and gathered my long hair on top of my head. Thank goodness I always kept a ponytail holder in my pocket at all times. I fished my hair through the band several times and twisted it into a messy bun. It didn't help as much as I had hoped, but at least it was something.

  With my head held high, and a heavy dose of false bravado, I waltzed into the middle of complete chaos.

  Men sprawled across every sitting surface of the room and on into the dining room. The television had been turned on to—football. Of course it was. And every last one of them had a bowl of pasta drowning in my white sauce.

  "I hope you left some for me."

  All heads turned, and I nearly swallowed my own tongue at the intensity of all of their focus on me. They were all dressed almost identically. Jeans, T-shirt, black vest with patches on it and some variety of boots. Something clicked in my mind, and I filed a mental picture of this moment away for the next time I had a sketch pad in my hands. Other than the clothes they wore, every single one of them looked nothing like the others. There were beards of varying sizes, from not much more than a five o'clock shadow to well beyond their chins.

  If there was one thing about all of them that I could say, it was this was not a ragtag bunch of biker losers like I might have imagined if I was thinking stereotypes. These were big, strapping men no one would want to meet in a back alley alone, but they were also smoking hot in the most rugged, testosterone-filled way.

  "I made sure they left you a plate," Rock walked up to my side and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. "You still hungry?"

  I nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed and unusually shy. "Let's grab you some food, and then I'll introduce you to everyone. If you wait too long, I'm worried they are going to eat everything that isn't nailed down."

  A couple of men voiced their dissent, but it was all done with snickers and eye rolls. Before I could get my bearings, an older man with a touch of gray hair at his temples and a few strands of silver in his beard approached. "I'm JD. President of the club. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

  He held out his hand and despite my nerves I gripped his hand in a firm handshake. "Nova," I said, smiling as best I could in the face of this intimidating yet good-looking man. It was easy to see where Rock got his looks. And it was easy to tell they were father and son. They were almost carbon copies of the same person, one with a few more wrinkles than the other. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way. If I had known you were coming, I would have made more of an effort with the food.

  "Are you kidding? That sauce is incredible." He rubbed his stomach. "Ate more than I needed to, but I couldn't resist."

  "I'll be sure to pass on the compliment to my friend Zia. The recipe is hers. She's a freaking goddess in the kitchen."

  JD eyed me with an intensity that made me want to squirm. I didn't know what he was trying to figure out, but I was probably better off not knowing.

  "C'mon," Rock urged me away from his father. "You need to eat before we get down to business. The game is in the last quarter, and while nothing gets them away from a Seahawks game, the minute it's over, they are going to be ready for action."

  As if on cue, something on the television must have happened because many of them jumped out of their seats, yelling at the tv. They were definitely enthusiastic about their football.

  "Don't mind them. Twelves are a bit obsessed."

  "Twelves?" I hated to admit I had no idea what he was talking about, but football wasn't a game I had a lot of experience with.

  "That's what the Seattle Seahawk fans are called. The Twelfth man. Their enthusiasm is well-known."

  "You sound more and more like you miss being there," I pointed out as I dished up a small bowl of pasta with sauce. The aroma slammed into me and my stomach growled. It was taking all my control not to dive face first into this food.

  He shrugged. "Sometimes I do. But I can be a twelve, here. Seahawks need more fans from other states."

  "Hmmm," I hummed as I scooped a spoonful of noodles drenched in the creamy cheese sauce. I groaned with delight.

  "Fuck, Nova. You eat your pasta like you fuck. I'm going to have to sit here and hide my hard-on now."

  I glanced around to see if anyone had heard him, but all the men had their full attention on the big screen tv. I didn't know what to say. I could already feel the heat in my face likely staining my cheeks bright red.

  "So is this what normal life is like for you? Food, family and football. And a one-track mind about sex?"

  "Actually no. At least not anymore. It's been years since I've sat down and watched a game with anyone but myself." He tilted the beer he'd picked up in Houston's direction. "Although I have had a meal with Houston and Izzy if that counts."

  "A meal? As in just one? And yes, I do think it counts."

  "Yeah, just one—so far. We were kind of estranged for a while, but we're working on it. What about you? Besides your father, is there anyone in your family you spend time with?"

  I wanted to squirm under his too knowing gaze. I knew he wasn't trying to interrogate me, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was under some sort of microscope every time he asked me about my life.

  "No. My father forbade me from having any contact with my siblings. Although I have spoken to my sister several times by phone. She takes orders from my father about as well as I do."

  A pang of regret pinged in my chest. Practically since the moment I'd woken here in Rock's house, I'd barely thought of her and what she must be going through. I had to try and reach her again to see if anything for her had changed. In all the chaos I kept forgetting the one person who really needed my attention.

  "Carina. She's about five years younger than you are, right?"

  I nodded, realizing I didn't need to say anything else. We both knew what that meant in my father's world. "I'm worried about her. My father tried threatening her as leverage against me. While I don't think he'd hurt her since she would be considered a valuable asset, I'm worried I haven't heard from her."

  "She's fine," he lowered his voice. "I mean, physically that is. I can't speak to her mental health since we haven't spoken to her."

  My head snapped back. "What? What do you mean she is fine? How do you know?"

  He stared back at me without saying a word, and after a few minutes, I realized what he mea
nt. "Is my whole family under FBI surveillance?"

  He didn't answer that question either. Which meant only one thing.

  "Dammit, Rock. Why didn't you tell me? Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" My words, while whispered, were harsh and angry. "I thought you wanted to be honest?" I clamped my mouth shut the minute I said those words. I had no right. Not when I'd left out my own secrets I was afraid to tell. But dammit, this was my sister.

  "I'm already way past the line of what I should and shouldn't share. Cut me some slack."

  He was right. I should have just asked if he knew anything about her. He couldn't read minds, and it wasn't fair for me to assume. "I'm sorry. Obviously I'm on edge more than usual."

  He lifted his hand and stroked a finger down my cheek. "You don't need to apologize. We're both feeling the stress of this. When this is all over, I can't wait for you and me to get away." I closed my eyes against his touch. I wanted to believe so badly that a future for us was possible, but I couldn’t afford to get my hopes up.

  "Get a room," someone yelled from across the room.

  "Shut up, Axel." Rock grumbled. "Asshole."

  Everyone laughed, which eased some of the tension, but as the television was turned off and the men moved to the dining room where we sat, I realized it was time to get serious.

  Rock broke the ice with a question addressed to JD. "How's the background on Ronin going?"

  I nearly choked on my drink.

  "Tel is working on it." The man at the far end of the table with his head buried in his computer grunted. Tel, I assumed. "We don't have anything useful yet, but if there's something there, we'll find it. However, we did bring the equipment you asked about."

  My eyebrows raised as Tel produced a small bag that he dumped on the table without even looking up from his screen. I had no idea what the scattered items were, but they definitely looked like expensive, hi-tech equipment.