He moved us until my back hit the wall of Harrison’s house. He stared down at me with eyes that were too beautiful for a soul like his. His entire physical being was too good for what he was, but somehow, it made him more appealing. A man all the girls wanted to tame.
As a woman, I’d turn into his kind of wild before I expected him to change. Because a tiger never changes its stripes.
“You think I don’t know what you’re up to, archer?” His breath fanned against my lips. “You want me to kiss you, to claim your mouth, so you can mark me, like I’ve already marked you.”
“Hah.” The noise was meant to be a bark, but it came out breathy. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. I might want to kiss you, but I’ll be damned if I let you kiss me. I’m not going to give you what you’ll no doubt try to steal anyway. It’s called work, Kelly. Learn the meaning.”
He moved slow, oh so slow, and went to put his lips to mine but I turned my face. His grin came languorously. “We’ll see.” He released me, going to stand closer to the door, where Harrison stood, watching us.
How long had he been there? It didn’t matter. My entire body was on fire, and I wished I could throw myself into an ocean to put it out. I wasn’t sure if that would even work, though.
This fire felt hotter, deeper—somewhere inside of my bones—than anything I’d ever felt before. It was a mixture of lust and rebellion.
Harrison took a step back to let the marauder through his door, but before Kelly stepped in, he stopped. “A secret for your vault. The real difference between Stone and me? I know when you’re actin’, darlin’. He never did. Remember that.” He winked at me and then went inside.
It took me a minute to compose myself, to pay attention to Harrison, who had called my name.
“What are you doing here so early?” my brother asked.
Shaking off my encounter with Kelly, I stood taller and walked toward the porch, looking out at the street. “We need to talk, Harrison.”
10
Cash
I t would take time to gain her family’s approval. She was the only girl—apart from her sister who had been killed at five—in a family with four boys. So it was their job to give me hell before I earned their sister’s heaven. But compared to the animals I ran with, their level of hell served ice water for dessert.
Even though her brothers were a bit cool, most of her family had suspected that she’d been dating someone. Her mother nodded at me in approval, which made the archer scowl. Her father looked me up and down. Quiet for the most part. He would be. He had known my old man, and when his daughter had been killed, he had come to Ronan Kelly for a favor.
We’d get to that later, after I was done dealing with another situation.
Mac “Capo” Macchiavello.
Mari had brought him with her, and upon introductions, Keely had said that Mari was the only one who called him Capo. He was the man Mari was engaged to. Mac was the reason Harry Boy was throwing back more shots of whiskey, eyeing the man with hatred in his eyes. If Harry Boy had any sense at all, though, he’d keep his distance from the man Mari called Capo.
Dangerous animals sense when other dangerous animals are in their territories.
Mac Macchiavello was a hunter, and he was stomping on mine.
Call it a hunch, but I sensed that this Mac was the same Mac that Rocco had mentioned in my office. He was Italian. Part of that world in some way. The tattoo of a wolf on his hand served as a symbol. Or a warning. He was or had been a Scarpone.
It would’ve been a war right in Harry Boy’s backyard if Mac had been anyone else who belonged to that family, but something about him made me curious. Rocco brought me his card for a reason, and if Mac was the one starting the wars between all of the families, and involving me—I’d find out why.
Curiosity sometimes killed the kitty, but not this big fucking cat. I was too smart for a trap.
If this Mac turned out to be as intelligent as I suspected, he knew that and was using it for his own personal gain.
He wasn’t just a savage animal. He was a clever savage animal.
His assessing blue eyes were trained on me while a woman at the party held his fiancé’s hand up to her nose while she silently judged the ring on her third finger. In the darkness, Mac’s eyes almost glowed blue, matching the black wolf’s eyes on his hand.
He whispered something in Mari’s ear, stood up, and then dumped his empty beer bottle in a trashcan. Grabbing another, he came to stand next to me as though we’d been friends our entire life.
He said nothing.
Nah, he wouldn’t. He had come to me.
It was my turn.
I downed a pull of my own beer. “Got your card.” Translated: Message received. I owe you one.
He nodded, his eyes on Mari, watching everyone who interacted with her. “Harry Boy. He’s valuable to you.”
My eyes moved between the man standing next to me and the man sitting across the yard from me. Harry Boy watched Mari with an intensity that left no room to question his intentions. He wanted to get her alone.
If all of the pieces fit as I’d put them, Harry Boy had been saving this night to confess his undying love to Mari. And if Mac was bringing the issue to me, Harry Boy had become my issue.
I almost shook my head in annoyance, but I didn’t. If Rocco cared enough to bring me Mac’s card, there was no question of his ranking within the Fausti family. High. My streets took top priority. A war with the Faustis would only lead to certain death.
Still. If something happened to Harry Boy, Macchiavello would mess my shit up. “You can say that.”
Mac took a slow pull of his beer. “You gave him a mercy shot. If I aim the gun, it’ll be his heart I hit.”
Ah. Harry Boy was fucking with Mac’s heart. Therefore. Harry Boy’s heart would belong to Macchiavello if he kept it up. Threats aside, there was something about Macchiavello that I instantly respected. So I’d squash Harry Boy’s schoolboy crush before it ruined my plans. No good would come out of this situation. Because when men like Mac started to catch feelings, it went straight to their heads.
“Noted,” I said.
Mac claimed his seat next to Mari again, and my eyes went directly to Harry Boy, who was staring at the girl so hard it was pathetic.
I sighed, shaking my head. Out of all the women in the world for him to fall in love with, it would have to be one claimed by a fucking savage animal. Her scent was all over Mac—it smelled like the word “mine.”
Feeling eyes on me, I turned my eyes a fraction, finding the archer. She was seated in one of the chairs that had been placed around the yard.
Our eyes caught and held.
Not able to hold my stare, she turned her eyes to Harry Boy. She followed his eyes to Mari and Mac and scowled.
Mari looked up when Keely stood abruptly and walked into the house. She whispered something in Mac’s ear and then followed Keely. Harry Boy followed in Mari’s footsteps. Before he could get to her, or too far inside of the house, I yanked him back by the collar of his shirt.
He went to swing on me but stopped when he realized it was me. He had little to say to me lately.
“You enjoy getting shot, Harry Boy?”
His eyes narrowed. “Can’t say that I do.”
I took a step closer to him and he held his ground. “Then I suggest you forget about your sister’s friend. She’s marrying a made man. You know what that is?” He nodded and I went on. “He’s more animal than man. You got that? His kind has no idea what the word mercy means. No matter what his name is, all you have to remember is Fausti.”
“Your kind.”
“You knew what kind of man I was when you started working for me.” I lifted my hands. “You wanted fast cash, you got it, and you accepted it, bloodstains and all.”
“My family, my sister, was never part of our deal,” he said, his voice low and laced with whiskey.
“This is not about your sister. That’s a done deal. This is abou
t Mari. Stay the fuck away from her. Her man has the scent of your blood memorized. There’s nothing I can do to change the winds, understand?”
A fiery red vision with peaceful blue eyes emerged out of the darkness of the hallway. “I need to talk to you, Kelly,” she breathed out. “In private.”
My eyes moved between Harry Boy and his sister.
“I’m not going to try to kill you,” she said, her voice exasperated. “Not tonight.”
I met Harry Boy’s eyes again. “Your sister thinks I’m easily fooled. She’s trying to give you some time with Macchiavello’s girl. You have five minutes to say nothing about love or any of that bullshit to her. Your feelings are no longer relevant where she’s concerned. She’s off limits. I’ve been clear enough.”
“That’s a problem,” Keely said, taking the lead after we walked away from Harry Boy. “He’s drunk, and whenever Harrison gets drunk, he lets his emotions rule him.”
I took her arm and forced her to stop when we made it up a couple of steps. “That wouldn’t be good for his health, darlin’.”
Her eyes flickered to the kitchen, where Harry Boy had disappeared, and then back to me. “Five minutes,” she whispered. “He’s earned it.”
“He’s earned a bullet to his chest?”
“You’re going to put one there because of Mari?” Her eyebrow lifted.
“You’re far from stupid, woman. You know the man with your friend is not one to be fucked with.”
“Like you.”
“Like me.”
She nodded once, the fear a real thing in her eyes now. She passed me on the step, but before she got too far, I took her arm again, stopping her. “What did you want with me, darlin’? Besides getting me out of your brother’s way.”
Her jaw tightened when I called her that—darlin’. “To find out when you’re going to announce our engagement.”
“You make it sound like a farce.” I grinned.
“It is bullshit.”
Before I could respond, her eyes moved away from mine too quickly, and mine followed hers. Macchiavello had come to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Harry Boy stood in front of him.
“Shit!” Keely flew past me down the stairs. Lachlan, another one of her brothers, had come to stand behind Harry Boy at the same time she’d made it to him. The two of them seemed to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.
Before Keely could make it back outside, Mari stopped her. She whispered something, squeezed her hand, and then turned to leave with Macchiavello. He looked me in the eye on their way out.
Enough said.
The archer watched as they left and then ducked into the kitchen.
She was on a warpath. Opening and closing cabinets, slamming them when she didn’t find what she was looking for. She hadn’t even bothered to flip the switch back on. The only light came from outside—where bulbs were strung up—through a kitchen window.
“With the amount Harry Boy drank tonight, it’s probably all gone,” I said, standing with my back against the wall.
This was no beer or wine girl I was dealing with. Keely Ryan had whiskey written all over her.
Her hand paused mid-close on another cabinet and she turned her head a fraction to look at me. “You know nothing,” she said, almost hissing at me, “about anything. Least of all me.”
“Ah,” I said, standing taller. “I’ve heard of this game before. It’s called Blame Cash. This is where you get to blame me for every problem in the world. I’ve had much heavier weights placed there, darlin’. A little more won’t bother me.” I shrugged. “Many have tried before. All have failed. I don’t break.”
“This is your fault! All of it.” She slammed the cabinet door and faced me. “Ever since you showed up, so has nothing but trouble!”
I laughed and her neck turned fiery red. “You enjoy feedin’ yourself lies, darlin’? Does that make you feel better? Like blaming Macchiavello for all his problems makes Harry Boy feel better. Tell me. Is this a family trait I should be aware of?”
“Are you calling my brother a coward?”
“I’m not calling. I’m telling. He’s a coward. No man who has a set of balls sits there for years waiting for the right time to make a woman his. She is his. End of story. That car out there.” I chucked my head toward the front of the house. “This house.” I looked around. “Who gives a fuck? You know your friend better than anyone. Does material shit matter to her?”
Her mouth closed on a snap. She couldn’t argue. The red on her neck crept up to her cheeks.
“He was trying to give her a better life! Something you’d know nothing about.”
I shrugged.
Her face heated even more. “What’s your game, huh?” She took a step closer to me, and I noticed her hands when she did. Trembling. But she flexed her fingers, like she was warming up. Preparing for the attack. “How are you so sure that you’re going to be able steal my heart? Last I checked, it was mine to give.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m the marauding fucking tiger.” I lifted my shirt, showing her my stripes, scars I’d gotten in battle. “Your heart is as good as mine. You’re already falling for me.” Letting my shirt drop, I looked down at her silk shirt, the material thin, her nipples pressing against the fabric. “Your body is already down with the memo. It’s your head that’s tripping you up.”
“Bullshit.” She tried to snap at me, but her voice came out as a whisper. “All you spew is lies. Lies from that forked devil’s tongue.”
“It’s not that you’re fighting this because you don’t want it,” I said, taking a step toward her. “You’re fighting this because you don’t want to give in so easily. Pride’s a deadly sin, darlin’—beware of that one. Don’t deny your pussy to spite your heart.”
“You smug son of a bitch!”
In a breath, she was on me, all of her pent-up aggression coming out through her hands. She was trying to beat me with them. I had to stop myself from laughing at her, at how cute she was being. It was a waste to call this warrior woman cute, but she was still a woman, and she couldn’t crack my armor.
Subduing her wrists in my hands, I moved her toward the wall, almost slamming her into it.
Her breath came out in pants, and fuck me, I breathed her in. I breathed in the passion she tried to disguise as pure hate. Her heart pounded against my chest, trying to go to war with it. She wanted to claim mine so she could quit the game of tug of war with hers.
She had no idea. I was born without one.
I looked down at her and my grin came slow. Her eyes were narrowed into slits, but I saw the truth she couldn’t deny in them. “We’ll see how much you hate that forked devil’s tongue when it’s making you speak in languages you never knew you had.”
“Fucking doesn’t equal love,” she said through clenched teeth. “You might have my body, but the rest—you’re going to have to bleed for. Love lives in the heart, Marauder.”
“No doubt about it, darlin’,” I said. “But I’ve bled for much less.”
“A heart is a bright place. Full of sunshine and rainbows. A real heaven. I can’t wait to see you try to steal love out of it.” A mocking smile came to her face. It was childish, something I’d never seen on her before. “You speak of pride. Then you should know love doesn’t deal with pride. It abolishes it. You, you conceited bastard, will be saying please and thank you after love gets a hold of you, and there won’t be a fucking thing you can do it about.”
“Ah, but not all hearts are the same, darlin’. I don’t think yours is made of sunshine and rainbows. Princess bullshit, isn’t that what you said at the fair? I know yours is the exact opposite. Yours is a fortress. One that needs to be battled for. Bled for. Once inside, it belongs to whoever was smug enough to believe he could get past the gates.”
I released one of her wrists, my free hand moving a strand of hair from her face. She trembled, and something inside of me echoed the reaction. She closed her eyes, releasing a faint breath. �
��Then those eyes, those heavenly eyes, belong to me alone,” I said.
Her eyes flew open, meeting mine, and before I could move, her lips slammed against mine. The heat from her body was like an inferno, and all of my defenses were made of paper buried in snow.
She made wild noises as our tongues warred for more, as her hand searched my body for bare skin to penetrate. When my hand slipped underneath the silk of her shirt, sliding between her tits, a breath hissed out of my mouth that she inhaled.
The same spot that I touched on her, center of her chest, was fucking burning me, like she’d lit it on fire.
She ripped herself away from me in what felt like an explosion to end it all. Not only were her hands trembling, but her entire body. She took slow steps back, keeping her eyes on me the entire time, until she hit a wall. “Where—” She cleared her throat. “What happens next? I mean—my family. This party. Scott.”
I took a step closer to her, feeling a bead of sweat roll from my temple to my neck. She tried to take a step back but couldn’t. She had already hit the wall. In a move too swift for her to protest, I took her left hand in mine, dug into my pocket, and slipped the ring Raff had picked up on her finger.
“Enough—” I cleared my throat “—said.”
“No one is ever going to believe this,” she said, not looking at the ring, but at me. “No one. Least of all Scott.”
“Kee.”
A minute later I turned my eyes to Harry Boy, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen. It took even longer for Keely to look at him.
He looked between us, his eyes narrowed, a frown on his face. “If I wouldn’t know any better—” He shook his head, not finishing his thought. “The door. For you.”
“Who?” Her voice was low, almost dazed.
“Stone,” he said.
I sensed her stomach’s reaction. It had taken a deep dive.
“Keep him out front,” she said. “I’ll meet him in a minute.”
Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2) Page 11