I locked the door and headed up the stairs to the apartment, filled with a low level of dread. There was no question, the second I stepped through the door, I was going to get jumped on. It was going to be a fucking bloodbath with both of my brothers and nosy-ass Olivia there, who I was a hundred percent sure hadn't managed to keep her mouth shut about what she saw.
“About fucking time,” Reid said the second I stepped through the door. He snatched the bags from me and set them onto the kitchen counter. “I was about to have to eat fish tacos without any avocado cream like some kind of Neanderthal.”
“Can you cut a couple of those up and mash them for me, babe?” Olivia stood with her back to him, stirring something delicious smelling in a pan as Bash came in from the attached living room.
“Sure. As long as you let me do it my way,” he responded, a grin tugging at his lips.
She laughed and kept stirring. “As long as your way involves making sure the peel doesn't get into the bowl, I'm good with it.”
The three of them bustled around the kitchen in a coordinated effort as I stood watching. Waiting. But they pretty much just ignored me, which had me feeling leery and confused.
“So, Reid, when is your next kickboxing match?” Olivia continued with the small talk like I wasn’t there, tossing my youngest brother a glance over her shoulder.
“Next weekend. You guys should come.” He snuck a hand around her and plucked a piece of fish from the pan and popped it into his mouth, chewing while he talked. “It's going to be a good one. I think by this time next year, I'll be out of the tournament circuit altogether and doing solely paying fights.”
The three of them chattered about that for a minute, and not one of them even glanced in my direction. It was fucking disconcerting. I should’ve been grateful for the reprieve but by the time lunch was ready, I felt like I was standing in a field of mines with only one square foot of space that wasn't rigged, and having no clue where it was.
We all sat down around the little square table and dug into our food in silence. The room filled with sounds of chewing and grunts of approval as we ate. As much of a pain in the balls having a girl in the house 24/7 could be, Olivia was a great cook, and even when we were eating healthy prepping for a fight, she still managed to make things taste good.
I'd finally let some of the tension go and got comfortable, reaching for my fifth taco, when her voice stopped me cold.
“So, Matty, you think screwing a mobsters daughter without making an honest woman of her is a good idea or not so much?”
Bash swiped a napkin over his mouth and sat back in his chair, a smirk stretching his lips, while Reid let out a crack of laughter.
“Damn, that was cold. She just put your business on the street.”
It was a wily move. Letting me get comfortable before pouncing. All the pithy responses I'd had locked and loaded had been forgotten in the wake of the food-gasm and my brain seized up now as I tried to explain the situation to someone who clearly had no clue what was going on.
“She's my manager. I told you guys before. And I’m not screwing her.”
Yet, anyway. I had screwed her. We planned to screw again. But as it stood?
No screwing.
So I was playing free and loose with semantics, but it was already a complicated enough situation without adding details to the mess.
“Look, I know you want it to be some story about star-crossed young lovers or some shit like you think you and Bash were, but that was one in a million.” I blew out a sigh and shook my head at Olivia. “It's not going to work out like that for us. Too much shit in the swamp muddying the waters. In fact, if I could get out of this situation altogether, I would do it. But I'm stuck in this contract with Mickey-”
“Fucking prick,” Bash muttered under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I hate him.”
“Yeah, that's well and good, but words don't mean shit,” Reid said with a grimace, shoving his now empty plate away. “That's the part that kills me about all this. How did we get here and when does it stop? Seems like one mistake is costing the McDaniels family far too much for far too long.”
Bash's face went tight with regret and I shoved him hard on the shoulder. “Stop. He's not talking about you. We're in this together, and always have been. Wasting energy on coulda woulda shoulda is stupid.”
I knew how he felt, though. Granted, it had been Bash's fight with Olivia's ex that had been the first domino to fall, but it had been my decision to approach Mickey for a loan to bail Bash out that had invited the vampire into our home to start. If I could go back in time and undo it, I would, but it was a done deal. We had to play the hand we were dealt now, and Reid lamenting over it wasn't helping anyone, and I told him as much.
“We can spend time whining about it, but the fact is, until this debt is paid, Mickey owns me and there isn't fuck all I can do about it.”
Olivia cleared her throat and tucked a lock of dark hair behind one ear. “What if that wasn't true? What if things were different? Would you be interested in a relationship with Kayla if you weren't under Mick's thumb? He'd still be her father, of course, but would that even matter to you? All of us know too well, you can't pick your family.”
I let the words sit for a second and shrugged. “She's good people.” Olivia's eye roll and sly grin let me know she wasn't buying what I was selling, so I gave in a little more. “She's sexy, nice, funny and smart. I'm not blind. I guess if the situation was different, a girl like that might get me to question my bachelor ways.” There was no harm in saying it out loud, because there was no changing the fact that Mickey wasn't letting me go anytime soon.
“So let's not give him a choice.” The determination blazing in her blue eyes and the intensity of her expression was enough to make me sit back in my chair.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
She slapped her hands on the little wooden table and all the plates jumped before clattering back down again. “I'm talking about twisting Mickey's arm. Convincing him that it would be in his best interest to let you go and forget the McDaniels family ever existed.”
“And how are we going to get him to do that, babe?” Bash asked gently, covering her hand with his own. He clearly wanted to support her, but even he couldn't see a way out of this.
“I've got weeks before school starts again and I'm only working a few shifts at the store. You're busy most of the day training anyway. What if the rest of us make a concerted effort to dig into Mickey’s life? His businesses, past and present, his life. Riffle through all of it, until we find something we can use as leverage.”
My pulse pounded as the idea took shape in my head. A guy like Mickey had more shady deals running at any given time than a politician. If I could use my lowly place in his organization as a way to get my hands on some proof--proof that actually mattered--maybe it would be enough...
“So you're suggesting that you and my brothers play super sleuths so that we can dig up dirt on a mobster and then use that information to blackmail him? Do I have that right? You want to blackmail the mobster?” he repeated incredulously.
Bash's tone combined with the rising fury in his eyes was enough to suck the wind out of Olivia's sails and her shoulders slumped a little.
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds really dumb,” she admitted, picking up a fork and pushing the coleslaw around her plate listlessly.
“That's because it is really dumb. Like the worst idea ever, unless you have a death wish.” He leaned over and touched a finger to her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. “You're not doing this, okay?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “Say it. Tell me you're going to get this crazy idea out of your head right now, Liv. I can't prep for this fight if I'm worried about you. Please.”
She nodded slowly and set down her fork with a clink. “Okay. I promise. It was a stupid idea, anyway. It's just, when I see Kayla and Matty together, I get this feeling in my gut. Like I know how perfect they'd be together if
they only had the chance. It makes me super sad. It reminds me of us, and of how awful my life would be right now if we hadn't fought to be together.”
I looked away, feeling like an intruder on their moment as my brother's eyes went soft as he leaned toward her and dropped a kiss on her nose.
“It's not up to you to fix everything, babe. This is something they need to work out on their own.” He turned to face me and jerked his chin in my direction. “Short of my girlfriend being your private dick, if there's anything we can do to help, anything at all, let me know, okay? Once I win my upcoming fight, we can always revisit the idea of paying Mick off again if he'll consider it. We're not beat yet.”
I nodded and shoved my chair back, scraping the legs on the beat up linoleum floor. “I appreciate it, but it wouldn’t matter. She’s still Mickey’s daughter. Me getting free of him only solves half the problem. I'm basically resigned to doing my time here.”
The lie rolled off my tongue with more ease than I was comfortable with. It was ingrained in me to protect my brothers, and part of protecting them was protecting the people they loved. I’d never put Olivia at risk like that, because it would destroy Bash if something happened to her.
“What’s done is done,” I added as I stood to put my plate in the sink. “It will all be a memory soon, anyway.”
Some part of that was a comfort and I padded toward my room. But some part of it...the part where Kayla would no longer be in my life? That wasn't nearly as comforting.
It was that thought that I couldn’t shake.
What if Olivia was onto something? Hell, not like I'd ever tell her that because she’d surely get herself into trouble, but what if the idea was a good one at the core of it? If I got something bad enough on Mickey, and I meant real bad--like, life in prison bad, not some flimsy-assed racketeering shit--he'd have to let me off the hook, wouldn't he?
The cops in Southie let a lot slide when it came to old Mick. He lined their pockets pretty nicely, but that only spread goodwill so far. They might turn the other cheek on a couple illegal fights and Mick and his boys running numbers but I didn't doubt that when it came down to it, they'd adhere to the CYA method of policing and cover their own asses if he was ever brought up on big charges like murder.
I sank down on the side of my bed, mind reeling. Now that the seed had been planted, I couldn't get it out of my head. If I found out something bad enough on Mickey and used it as leverage, maybe he'd let me go.
But I couldn’t deny the other, deeper part of me that wouldn’t be silenced. The part telling me that, just maybe, if it was bad enough, Kayla would have to let him go, too.
Chapter Four
Kayla
“Make sure you lock up,” Mick called to me as he passed my office door, slowing down and then backing up to give me the hairy eyeball. “You got a date?” he asked, eyes narrowing as he noted the compact in my hand and the tube of cherry lip gloss poised over my mouth.
I managed a tinny laugh, set the gloss down and shook my head. “Not unless you consider a late takeout lunch and no-lifeing Orange is the New Black on Netflix by myself all night a date.”
Half true. Grocery shopping was definitely in the cards at some point. I had mustard, cheese and pickles. No bread. So unless I wanted to eat a mustard and cheese on hand, I needed to get some food. The Netflix part was a lie, but I waylaid the guilt by telling myself he didn’t really want to hear the whole truth anyway.
That tonight was my first sex date with Matty McDaniels, and I was so excited, I could hardly stand myself.
I’d made it through four hours of work, and even that had been a struggle. For two people who thought that planning something like this was a good way to help us focus on other things for the rest of the week, at least one of us was failing at it miserably. It was pretty much all I thought about from the second I’d left the gym that day until now.
The concern in Mick’s eyes had faded and he went for his wallet. “You need money for food?”
I snapped the compact shut and shook my head, the guilt creeping back in, stronger by the second. “That’s what my paycheck is for,” I reminded him.
It was one of the hardest parts about dealing with Mickey every day. I was still pissed at him for strong-arming Matty and his family the way he had. And by all accounts, he wasn’t a good guy. He took advantage of people who had financial problems and addiction issues, he was a sneak and a blatant opportunist. But he was also the only real family I had, and he’d pretty much saved my life. His version of love was a little screwy, but he was always looking out for me. We had some work to do still, but I was confident that he could change and be the person I knew he had the potential to be. Sneaking around behind his back doing something I knew he would hate weighed on me heavily.
Just not heavily enough to change my mind.
We chatted for a few more minutes about nonsense and our weekend plans. The whole time I was willing him to hurry it up. I had big plans, and I wanted to have time to change before Matty got to my apartment, but when I pulled into the lot behind my building an hour later, I realized I was too late. His truck was already parked in the spot nearest the door.
I unbuckled slowly, staring at the vehicle all the while.
All day at work I’d tried to convince myself that tonight would be no big deal. After all, it wasn’t like we’d never had sex before. The fact that we’d agreed to it? That just gave this wild thing between us some veneer of sanity that it so desperately needed to keep me from chickening out.
Still, while I sat at my desk, I found myself fantasizing about what the night would be like. Would this be different because we’d planned it? Or, in spite of the pragmatism, would it be like it was last time…
Totally out of control.
I shoved the thought away and took a deep breath. The last time had probably been a fluke. To go in expecting to come again would be ridiculous. Crazy, even. In a whole lifetime of sexual frustration, there was no way that Matty McDaniels was the single key to unlocking my sexuality.
No matter how I felt when I thought of his hard muscles pressing against me.
I swung the glass door open and there he was, sitting on the worn sofa of my apartment lobby, elbows on his knees and staring at the door. He stood when he saw me walk in and my breath caught, though I was careful to hide my reaction.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I thought we’d said three,” I said, shifting the paper bag full of Italian food from one arm to the other so I could peek at my watch. He was almost an hour early. Maybe he was as eager as I was?
Good thing I’d brought enough food for two.
He shrugged and his black T-shirt stretched tight over his broad shoulders. His jeans hung loose low on his lean hips, showing just the slightest hint of his blue boxer shorts. And above that? The tawny trail of hair that marked the space between his navel and the one place my eyes kept straying to.
A wave of heat washed over me and I resisted the urge to fan myself like a Southern belle in the midst of the vapors.
“I couldn’t wait.” The bold honesty of his words combined with the intensity of his gaze only made my situation worse and I found myself wishing I’d gotten ice cream instead of Italian food.
I turned away, hoping to hide my face before he could see the blush, and then crossed the little space between the lounge and the elevator. I pressed the up button as he stepped closer, wrapping one big, warm hand around my waist.
He was standing directly behind me, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, smell his crisp, clean cologne on the air. I closed my eyes, thanking god that he wasn’t looking at me straight on.
My heart thrummed in my chest and I fought the urge to lean back against him. I’d stopped by the gym twice that week to check on his training and both times I’d left as quickly as I’d come because I wanted nothing more than to follow him into the locker room and touch him. And every moment in between… well, I’d been thinking of this.
&nb
sp; I swallowed hard, trying to regain what little self-control still remained.
The elevator dinged and the metal doors slid open. Mercifully, it was empty, so I dragged myself from his touch as quickly as I could. No matter how many times I’d imagined tonight, it was clear to me that I hadn’t prepared myself nearly enough. Being near him, knowing he wanted me? It overwhelmed my entire system until I was sure my brain was going to short circuit.
He followed me into the elevator and smiled, pressing the button for my floor before leaning back against the right-side wall to eye me up and down as the doors closed.
“You look nice today.” He nodded to my skirt and top.
“You think?” I managed through my fast-drying throat.
He nodded as the elevator whirred into motion. “I like you in skirts.” He cocked another smile in my direction, adding a sexy punctuation to the promise hidden in those words.
His fingers drummed against the silver handrail along the back wall, the silence thickening like molasses on a winter’s day.
Jesus, it was like this elevator was powered by two birds and a dinosaur yanking at the pulleys. What was taking so long?
There was a ding as we passed the first floor, and it reverberated through the tiny space like a gunshot. One floor down, five to go. My body was overheating, and blood was rushing to my face so quickly that it made my head spin. I was going to drop dead of anticipation before we even got to my floor.
“Ah, fuck it,” Matty growled suddenly. He jammed his hand against the control panel, depressing the red button to stop the lift.
My heart dropped into my stomach as he stepped toward me.
“Wh-What are you doing?” I mumbled, my pulse sky-rocketing out of control.
“I wasn’t kidding. I can’t fucking wait.”
Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 2 of 3 (McDaniels Brothers 6) Page 3
