My Heart
Page 8
My entire body is trembling and it takes me a moment to regain composure enough to remember I need to get the door shut. Stepping past the man lying in my path and grabbing a stray rag from the counter, I start wiping his blood away. I can hear men running as I step up to the door and make quick work of slamming it shut before they can get in. Spinning I nearly trip on my dress; a burst of irrational anger spikes through me and I grab the hem, ripping and tearing at the bottom with my knife until it barely touches the floor. Screaming obnoxiously, I throw the fabric as far as I can as my underlying panic creeps its way into the forefront. I need to find Remy and get the fuck out of here.
I blindly turn the corner into the hall and run into what feels like a fucking brick wall. My nose is throbbing as I accidentally drop my knife and my gun is smacked out of my hand once again; I clearly need to fucking work on that. Out of sheer desperation, I wind my arm back and punch the man in the face several times before my arms are pinned down. His words start to bleed through my frazzled brain, "Beverly! Calm down…God damn that hurt." Looking up, I see Andrea holding his nose as blood drips through his fingers and I launch myself at him with a sob. He rubs my back soothingly with his free hand for a minute before trying to peel me off with no success. "Bev my nose is bleeding and it's going to get on you." I ignore him and stay attached despite his best efforts, there is absolutely no way I’m getting separated and ending up alone again. "Remy! I found Bev!"
I keep my face pressed into Andrea's shirt until I feel Remy at my back, lightly tugging my arms, "Cuore Mio come here, I got you." Spinning, I latch onto him instead as he lifts me up, carrying me towards the front of the store. He places a kiss on the side of my head and hugs me to his chest as we get into an SUV. "We're going home now Bev, you're safe."
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My teeth are chattering with caged adrenaline as Remy carries me to the bathroom. Setting me down he puts my face in his hands, drawing my gaze to his, "Beverly I'm going to put you in the shower okay?" I nod and he leans down to kiss my forehead, reaching past me to adjust the shower. After a moment he drops the straps on my dress, letting it pool at my feet in a dark, ripped, silky puddle. Lowering so his face is level with my navel he hooks his fingers in the sides of my underwear, sliding them down my legs. He lifts each foot, unhooking it from the material to let if fall with my dress, thumbs stroking the inside of each ankle before setting it back down. His palms run slowly up each calf and up the outside of my thighs, as his dark honey gaze searches mine. I can see my own anxiety reflected in his gaze but his worries are of me instead of mentally reliving the last hour. I reach for him, running my fingers along the short hair at his nape and pull him to me. Placing a soft kiss on my belly, he wraps his arms around my waist, resting his cheek against my skin.
After a moment he slowly stands and unbuttons his own shirt, dropping it onto the floor. He removes his shoes and socks next, tossing them loudly to the side, dropping his boxers and slacks by his shirt. Stepping into the shower, he holds his hand out for me and I take it, letting him pull me into the water. My back is to the spray and he gently tilts my head back, working the water through my hair. Grabbing my shampoo, he lathers my hair up, using a soapy cloth to wipe down my jaw and chest while it rinses. He shifts us so our positions are switched, running conditioner through my ends and washing his own head and body quickly before moving me back to the spray. Taking my face in his palms again he brushes my cheeks with his thumbs, eyes scanning my face. "Are you starting to come back to me Cuore Mio?"
I hadn't noticed until now that my hands are steady, the pounding of my heart a softer rhythm. I nod up at him and he gives me a sweet smile, his left dimple on display. I trace my fingertips over it, then skim his skin to run them over his lips before letting my hand drop. Taking one of his hands in my own I run my thumb gently over his bruised and split knuckles, clearly he used more than his gun tonight. "That was awful Remy...I killed two people." My words are a low whisper, gaze still on his knuckles.
Raising our hands, he kisses the back of mine and places it back on his face to draw my eyes up to his. "You did exactly what you needed to do." Letting my hand slip away, he grips the back of my head and pulls me up so our noses just brush, "I must be a sick fuck too because damn if that doesn't turn me on."
He nips at my bottom lip playfully while I huff out a laugh. I know he's trying to lighten the mood and I'm grateful for it. "You should see a therapist." He chuckles against my lips, palming my cheeks while he gives me soft, sweet kisses.
"Cuore Mio if I saw a therapist, they would end up needing therapy." He mumbles against my lips.
I smile at him and reach back to turn the shower off, pulling from his grip with the action. Stepping out, I grab us both a towel, holding his out to him. Taking it, he watches me dry off as he does the same, both of us silent and in our own thoughts. Dropping my towel to the floor, I scoop up one of Remy's t shirts that missed the bin earlier, pulling it over my head as I walk into the bedroom. I flick off the light as I hear Remy come into the room and climb up on the bed. It's cloudy but there's still a small streak of light shining through the room, casting long shadows along the floor.
If things had gone differently tonight either one of us could have been like the man I left in the kitchen, bleeding out on the tile. Losing my twin fractured my soul. Stabbed a knife in my heart so each beat is a painful, bleeding drag; but losing Remy would completely destroy me. It would crumble my heart to dust and squeeze the life from my lungs. I’ll always ache for Julian. A tear in your soul never truly heals, but I'll learn to live with it because I have Remy to help me. I won't let my guilt keep myself from him anymore, our time is too precious for that, too limited.
Sitting on Remy's side of the bed, I hold my arms out to him and he steps up to stand between my legs. He's just in a pair of sweats and I run my palms up his chest and down his arms, twinning my fingers through his. The light is filtering just right, allowing me to see his face in the dark. Leaning forward I press a kiss his chest, directly over his heart before pulling back to look up at him. "I love you Remy." It's the first time I've said the words directly to him since being back and it makes my heart flutter against my ribs.
Softly pulling his hands from mine he runs a palm along the outside of my thigh and grabs my leg, hooking it around his waist as he leans down to press his lips on mine for a whisper of a kiss. "Ti amo più della vita stessa, il mio cuore." His lips brush mine as he speaks and with a light push to my chest, he has me lay back on the bed. One hand on my thigh and his other forearm by my head, he trails kisses along my collarbone, up my neck and to our matching tattoo. After placing a kiss on the ink his lips skim the shell of my ear, "I love you more than life itself, my heart."
I turn my face towards his and pull his lips to mine with my fingers at his nape. Wrapping my other leg around his waist I tighten them, pulling his body flush with me, needing him as close as possible. His fingers are biting into the flesh of my thigh, as he holds himself above me, meeting my desperate kisses with his own. Pushing up to my elbows, I encourage him to sit back, releasing the grip of my legs on his hips. In understanding he flips and scoots farther back onto the bed, impatiently grabbing my hips to straddle him. Sitting forward his fingertips press into my skin as he slowly pushes my shirt up, skimming my waist and ribs, the edges of my breasts.
He slips the fabric over my raised arms and tosses it away, leaning to kiss the space between my breasts as his thumbs brushing over my nipples. A throaty groan slips out as his hot mouth sucks in a tight bud, his teeth scraping over my sensitive flesh as he switches sides to give my other aching nipple attention. I'm shamelessly grinding against his clothed erection, running my hands over his broad shoulders, corded arms and defined stomach. I reach between us and pull him free, unwilling to wait any longer. Sitting up on my knees, I bring him to my entrance and slowly sink onto his shaft, drawing soft groans from both our lips.
He palms my waist, controlling our slow rhythm, as I
pull his lips to mine for a sloppy impatient kiss that's at odds with the slow movements of our hips. My clit is grinding against him with each thrust and my nipples are just brushing his chest, creating toe curling friction. He breaks away from my lips to trail wet kisses down my neck; I can feel him marking me, sucking and biting my skin while bringing a hand down to tease my throbbing clit with his thumb.
Our movements become more frantic; our thrusts less rhythmic. Remy wraps his fist around my hair and pulls my head back to expose more of my neck to him while applying extra pressure to my clit. My orgasm bursts through me with his next bite, drawing his name from my throat like a raspy prayer as I sink my nails into his skin of his shoulders. He continues pumping through it, groaning against my neck as I clench around him.
He flips us after a moment, bracing his body above mine with his forearms by my head. I pull his face to mine to nip at his bottom lip and spread my legs wider for him, revealing in how he feels inside my over sensitive body. He palms my face with one hand for a soft kiss, groaning against my lips as he meets his own release, thrusts choppy and erratic. Our breaths are labored, and our skin is hot, sticky with sweat, as we breath each other in. His lips brush mine as his honey eyes open, giving me a dimpled smile. "Fuck I missed this."
He drops his face into my neck and pushes his arms up under my head and back to hug me; his weight heavy but comforting. I loop my arms around his neck, mimicking his posture and press a kiss to his ear, "I missed us."
Chapter Nine
"How are you expecting this meeting to go?" Donatello murmurs from his side of the armored SUV as we head to our meeting with Joseph McGrath.
I blow smoke out of my cracked window, shaking my head. I honestly have low expectations about finding anything that will help us understand Julian. I'm more concerned with getting retribution for the Daly Brother's ambush now. "I doubt he will be very forthcoming with information. Even though we have a peace agreement we don't exactly get along well. Him and my father barely tolerated one another, I can only assume the lack of respect is extended towards me as well." Finishing my cigarette, I crunch it and look over to Donatello. "I'm more interested in finding out how he wants to deal with the Daly Brothers. I find it highly unlikely he sanctioned the attack."
Donatello nods in agreement, ringed knuckles brushing his chin in thought, "He was pretty quick to accept your meeting request yea? I imagine he's trying to avoid a giant blow up. He can't afford conflict, even less than we can."
I hum and pull out my phone to look at the time. Rico should be at the house with Beverly while I'm gone and I'm having Andrea stop by as an extra pair of eyes. Call me paranoid but I want her protected in case anything goes south at this meeting. Feeling us come to a stop, I do a mental catalog of what weapons I have on my person; tapping my fingers on the brass knuckles I keep in my inner pocket. They'll make me strip my handguns, but I'll be keeping these. I glance over at Donatello and he gives a slight nod before we both step out.
My men immediately wrap around us as we walk towards the doors of an old cathedral church. Donatello shoots me a look and I raise my brow in return. Joseph is quite the bible thumper for someone who slit throats and runs a prostitution ring. Unfortunately for him, I don't think he'll be going to see those pearly gates when he's done in this life. We walk past the pews and empty benches, the smell of dust and potpourri making the air feel heavy. Giant old iron windows are casting yellow beams of light along the floors and our shoes tap loudly around the open space. Everything about it gives me the creeps and I wiggle my shoulders as Donatello smirks over at me, the stronzo.
Finally stepping up to what I assume is an office, two men approach our group demanding our guns. I hand mine over to my own men who pass it along and watch as they drop them into a cardboard box by the door; really trying to impress us I see. Donatello does the same and he raises a brow at me, probably thinking the same of their cheap display. They finally open the door for us, and I leave all but Donatello outside the room.
"Remy you look like shit." Joseph rasps out from behind his large oak desk, leaning back casually in his chair. His words are heavily accented and if I wasn't familiar with him, I would have a hard time understanding it. He probably isn't wrong but he sure isn't one to be casting stones. His once red hair is completely white and has receded almost to the back of his head, his cheeks are hollow, blue eyes cloudy with age. I imagine he won't be around much longer; he is only a few years younger than my own padre when he passed. I'm actually surprised he hasn't been removed from his position yet; too stubborn to give up his power most likely.
"Says the man on his deathbed." I sit across from him and Donatello does the same, both feigning nonchalance even as tension rides the surface of our skin. He gives a hacking laugh, smacking the desktop with a wrinkly hand. "I know you're aware of why I'm here earlier than planned or you wouldn't have agreed to see me."
Settling himself, he nods while frowning. He rubs at his face, the sound of his white bristle scratching his hand making me uncomfortable. "Aye. The Daly Brothers seemed to have been getting in some trouble lately."
"Good. So, we both agree they need to be punished." I say it as a statement and not a question so he knows it will he happening with or without his consent. "They were brazen enough to plan an ambush that directly involved my wife. They're lucky she was unharmed or we would be meeting under much different circumstances." I know my threat is received because his shoulders stiffen a fraction before he steeples his hands before his face.
"The Daly Brothers are feckin eejits and I have no intention of protecting them. Their transgressions aren't worth breaking our already rocky treaty. Your athair would be rolling in his grave if all his hard work was destroyed over this mishap." His glassy eyes are scanning my face for any tells as his words hang in the air.
I share a brief look with Donatello who leans forward, "To clarify, you're relinquishing the Daly Brothers and all men acting under them, into our hands to do as we wish?"
This was easier than I expected and it puts me on edge. "Why would you willing hand over your own men for slaughter? Because that's what we intend to do to them. All of them."
Running a shaky, pale hand roughly over his face he huffs out a breath, "Those boys have been causing trouble across the board. I'm tired of dealing with them, covering for them. I just ask you spare as many made men as you can. Those lads are just following orders. Some are athers, some are just babes still." Looking back over us a serious expression crosses his face. "But don't mistake this as a sign of weakness. If it's a war you want, we won't be waving a white flag anytime soon."
I raise my brow but say nothing. We all know they wouldn't be able to overpower us. But I hear his words for what they are, an attempt to regain any loss of respect he’s gained from letting his own men be executed. It works in my favor so I'm not about to complain, but I doubt his own men will see it his way. "Fine. We will do our best to keep causality of anyone outside of the Daly Brothers to a minimum. But we will be acting on your territory so I expect you to keep your side of the deal and keep your other men out of my way." He nods, hand over his mouth and I send a nod of my own to Donatello who stands and drops a folder onto Joseph's desk.
Joseph frowns in confusion while opening the folder, "What's this shite?"
"Sign it. It's a contract of sorts saying you’re giving us the go to take care of the Daly Brothers any way we see fit and won't retaliate in any way, unless you're declaring an act of war and terminating our existing treaty." I stand as I speak, casually placing my hands in my pockets.
Huffing, he stares at the papers a moment, then grabs a pen and hastily signs the bottom. "Back in the day a man's word meant more than this contract nonsense."
I hum but say nothing. I couldn't care less how it was, this is how we handle things now. It’s how my padre handled things as well; Joseph isn’t new to this. Donatello slides the paperwork off his desk and neatly tucks it away before looking to me for our next move. "Are you
familiar with a Julian Esposito? He was executed a few months ago for working with the Daly Brothers."
Sitting back in his seat he shakes his head, crossing his fingers at his waist. "I have no idea who those eejits work with."
I stare at him a moment, trying to decide if I should press him further but go against the instinct. I got what I wanted out of this meeting and need to quit while I'm ahead. I signal to Donatello that I'm ready to leave and he taps his knuckles on the door. Turning to face Joseph fully I pull my hands from my pockets, "Arrivederci Joseph. Let's try not to see each other anytime soon."
He laughs which sends him into another coughing fit. As I turn to leave with Donatello I hear him speak to my back, "Tú cróga poll asal." You brave asshole.
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I run my hands roughly over my face as we get back into the SUV. That was easier than it should have been and even though we have the signed contract it makes me uneasy. I feel Donatello's eyes on me before he speaks, "So what's the plan now?"
Blowing out a breath, I resist the urge to pull out another cigarette. "I want to have the Daly Brothers handled within the next week, so we'll have to get a plan formulated in the next few days. We need to deal with Gavino as well. Although he will be less of a threat with the Daly Brothers out of the picture." I look over at Donatello as I finish, "But I want to be done for the rest of the evening. We can start tomorrow; I need a fucking break."