At Main Street, he hailed a cab and forced her into the back. He rattled off her parent’s address, then pulled her into his side.
“Get low,” he murmured into her temple.
Cora wiggled as far down as her stinging ass would allow against the worn leather.
“It was deliberate,” she murmured as the cab took to the open roads. “Someone disconnected the fire alarms. None of them went off. I had them all checked a month ago. I know they were working. And all the exits were blocked.” She tipped her head back on his shoulder. “Who would do that? Why?”
His response was to dig out his phone. She saw the screen flash Nicholas’s name before it was pressed to his ear.
“He went after Cora,” was his greeting when the other man picked up. “I’m taking her to her parent’s. No. I’ll meet you there.”
“Who?” Cora started to lift her head, only to have it dragged back down.
“I told you to stay down.”
“But who’s after me?”
Her question was ignored a second time with another call.
“I have Cora. Open the gates.”
He disconnected and stuffed the phone into his pocket.
“James!”
“Not now!”
She lost him after that. He sat in a dark, murderous silence that choked the very oxygen from the cabin. Even the cabbie shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel. His gaze darted between the road and the rearview mirror as if he expected James to snap and kill them all.
The moment they pulled beneath the steps of her parent’s home, he paid the relieved cabbie and hauled her from the backseat. She was hoisted up the stairs to the front door without a shred of gentleness. He pushed them inside without knocking and slammed the door shut behind them
“It’s three in the morning,” Cora hissed. “My parents are—”
Giovanni stalked into the foyer, wrapped in a black, silk robe and matching pajamas. His face was perfectly shaven, his hair immaculately combed back. He did not resemble a man who was jolted out of bed, nor did Elise, who followed after him in a white, satin slip and robe. Neither one looked surprised to see James or Cora there.
“What happened?” Giovanni demanded.
“We need to talk,” was James’s answer. “Now.”
A muscle bunched against her father’s jaw, but he turned to his wife and daughter. “Both of you upstairs. Stay in your rooms.”
“What’s happening, Gio?” Elise hurried to Cora’s side and took her arm.
“Someone burned the bar,” Cora answered for him. “Everything’s gone.”
Elise’s jaw went slack. Cora’s face was immediately captured between soft hands.
“Are you hurt?”
Cora nodded. “I’m fine, but my things ... my bar...”
“I don’t care about things,” Elise cried. “Things can be found and replaced, and your bar can be rebuilt, but you...”
Cora sighed. “I’m okay. I promise.”
Elise exhaled and turned to her husband. “Who did this?”
“I’m going to find out,” he told her firmly. “But until I do, no one leaves this house. Now, both of you in bed. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
Chapter Nineteen
“He could have killed her.” James spun to face the man looming by the doors of his office. “If I hadn’t been there, she would have died. I want heads.”
De Marco moved deeper into the room and went straight for the drink cart. “Give me a name and I’ll make sure you get to chop it off.”
James accepted the drink he was offered and threw it back.
“I don’t know the bastard’s name.” He slammed the glass down on the desk Cora had seduced him on not two nights ago. But the sight of it did nothing to erase the churning, devouring rage frothing to life inside him. “He goes only by Bishop.”
De Marco joined him. “I don’t know a Bishop.”
“But this is your city,” James fixed the other man with a cold, steel stare. “Nothing happens in it without you hearing about it. I want to know who. One name. That’s all I need.” He hesitated before adding, “And I need Cora to stay here until it’s done.”
He almost choked on the bile those words invoked. His desperation left no room for pride. His need to protect Cora trumped his animalistic drive to take the man’s daughter from him. Nothing else mattered, not the feud, not his revenge, not the promise to end De Marco’s life when it was all over. For the time, he would set aside his vendetta for her.
“Captain, my daughter is always welcome home,” the other man stated. “And I will grant you the first blow when I find this Bishop.”
James narrowed his eyes. “In return for what?”
De Marco took a swig of his drink as he picked his way around the desk to take his seat. “Leave my daughter.”
“No.” There was no need to even consider the request.
Hinges squeaked as the man’s weight shifted back in his chair. “That is my condition. I will give you Bishop. You give me my daughter back.”
James slid his glass across the table until it was in the middle, empty, save for a single drop glistening at the bottom.
“Thank you for the drink, Mr. De Marco.” He straightened. “I apologize for waking you at this hour, but I’ll be taking my wife and leaving now.”
He started for the door when the other man’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t be stupid, Captain. Take the deal. Get your revenge, return to being a free man. Why give that all up for one girl?”
James paused and glanced back over one shoulder. “You’d be surprised what I am willing to give up for her, Mr. De Marco. I was even willing to come here, to you, in order to protect her. That was not a decision I took lightly, but it was a decision I was willing to swallow my pride for because...”
“Because you love her.”
His molars creaked. “Because I still need her.”
“To what end?”
“That’s my business.”
“On the contrary, Captain.” De Marco rose. “She’s my daughter, which will always make her my concern.”
“She’s my wife, which means the moment she vowed to be mine forever and I took her to bed to consummate that vow, she became my responsibility. My business.”
De Marco said nothing for a long stretch of time, minutes where James could almost see his desire to pull out a pistol and shoot James in the face.
“You really have a lot of nerve, Captain.” He circled around to James’s side of the table. “You think you can come into my home and declare your claim on my daughter? I can snuff you out where you stand. I can ruin you in ways that will make you wish you were dead.”
“But Cora won’t let you.” James offered him a smirk. “Like I said, I still need her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a ship to prepare for launch and a woman to get to safety.”
The clatter of a gun being drawn stopped James mere feet from the doors. One hand circled the doorknob, but he didn’t bother opening it.
“Are you going to shoot me in the back, Mr. De Marco?” James glanced back. “That’s not very nice.”
The Glock 9mm never wavered in the other man’s grip.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, Captain. We still have plenty to discuss.”
James unfurled his fingers and pivoted slowly on his heels.
“Or what?”
The crack of fire imploded in the silence his question left behind. The bullet whizzed past his right ear and shattered the picture frame on the wall behind him. Glass exploded and tingled in fragments to the floor.
No one noticed.
De Marco never flinched.
James remained unmoving, not out of bravery, but stunned surprise; he hadn’t thought the man would actually do it.
De Marco smirked. “My daughter may get angry if I kill you, she may get upset if I shoot you, but ultimately, you will be out of her life and that is anger and tears I am willing to deal with.
” He jerked the gun left, towards the lounging area. “Now, sit.”
James edged in the direction indicated, but kept narrowed eyes on the weapon aimed at his head.
“I hope you’re a better shot than that, Mr. De Marco. You expect me to leave Cora in your care, but I was barely a foot away from you.”
The sheer force of the man’s jaw grinding together made James feel slightly better at being shot at. But he restrained himself from pushing any further when De Marco’s fingers flexed around the trigger.
“You’re not taking Cora anywhere, Captain. That isn’t a request, and I missed on purpose.”
“The only way that’s going to happen is if I keep her. She can continue staying close to home, staying safe ... but she’s still mine.”
“No.”
“Then I take her to the other side of the world and you never see her.” James plunged on before the other man could utter a word. “We have a common enemy and a common goal. That goal is keeping Cora safe. Now, we might not agree on much, but we agree on that, right?”
De Marco said nothing, nor did he need to.
James continued. “We can stand here and kill each other, or we can temporarily join forces, kill this motherfucker, then go back to deciding how to kill each other. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’m willing to put up with you for her.” He waited a heartbeat before braving a slow step forward. His hand left his side, palm open. “Do we have a deal?”
De Marco flicked a glance between the offered olive branch and James’s face with mashed lips and an infuriated scowl. He hesitated just long enough to make James start pulling back, but De Marco flipped the safety on the Glock, tucked it into the waistband of his silk trousers, and accepted.
“I accept, temporarily,” he added. “Only until this matter has been resolved and Cora’s safe. Then you and I will have a long discussion.”
James inclined his head. “I look forward to it.”
He left De Marco’s office and made his way blindingly through the catacomb of corridors, wishing he’d asked for a map. Every bend seemed to lead him deeper into the unknown and spilled shadows. The endless strain of darkness in every room he passed prickled along his spine with steel tipped talons.
“Captain?”
James jolted.
His hand reflexively jerked to his gun before he recognized the tiny woman standing in the hallway behind him.
“Ms. Harris.” He relaxed his stance. “Never wise to sneak up on a man with a gun and massive paranoia issues.”
Elise giggled. “My apologies. Are you lost?”
He glanced at the walls around him and the stretch of darkness ahead. “I might be.”
She motioned him to her. “You took one too many turns. Just head back until you get to the front doors, then go up the stairs and down the hall until you see the surly pirate standing outside her door.”
The surly pirate made him laugh.
“Nicholas?”
She hummed quietly. “Apparently, he was caught trying to climb the outer walls. I assumed he was yours and told the men not to shoot him.”
James inclined his head. “I appreciate that. I kind of still need him.” He inclined his head again. “Goodnight, Ms. Harris.”
“Captain.” She stopped him as he was passing her. “I’m not going to ask you not to hurt my daughter, or what your intensions are, but I do ask that you tread cautiously if your intentions aren’t to remain a constant in her life. Cora may come off strong, but she has a tendency to love too deeply the people who always wind up hurting her. Don’t be one of those people, Captain. I can help my daughter mend a broken heart, but you won’t find many people who will help you mend a shattered skull.” She smiled sweetly. “Sweet dreams, James.”
He watched her move gracefully away from him, a pale, gliding ghost melting seamlessly into the shadows until there was nothing remaining by the lingering scent of her floral perfume.
“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath.
He rubbed a hand back through his hair, surprised by the chill that scattered along his spine.
The woman may have been tiny, but she’d managed to unnerve him. Maybe it was that smile at the end or the way she seemed to stare straight into him while promising to shatter his skull, but there was no doubt in his mind that De Marco was the least of his problems.
He retraced his steps, following Elise’s directions back to the main part of the house, and following the stairs to the top. Sure enough, Nicholas looked up when James approached. The man assessed him with that razor blade coolness of his.
“Not dead, I see.”
James snorted. “Not from lack of trying on his part. Apparently, he meant to miss.”
Nicholas raised a brow. “Think you’re growing on him?”
“Maybe like a wart. Heard you nearly got yourself shot.”
“They wouldn’t let me through the gates.” Long arms folded. “I asked nicely.”
James sighed. “This place is going to get us both killed.” He glanced towards the door. “She inside?”
“Yeah, unless she crawled out the window.”
James blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill her this time. Long story,” he muttered at the questioning stare from his first mate. “Christ, she drives me fucking crazy.”
Nicholas barked a laugh. “You’re the one who’s keeping her around.”
“Yeah, but it’s a really hot, dirty kind of crazy.”
James wiggled his eyebrows in emphasis.
The other man blanched. “Gross. Like I want to picture you doing anything hot and dirty. Go inside.”
Laughing, James pushed open the door, but paused. “Find somewhere to bunk down for the night. In the morning, we’re going hunting.”
He shut the door and faced the room and the woman sitting on the bed with a notepad open on her raised knees. She sat with her back to the cushioned headboard, her feet buried beneath a cloud of white. A pen rested against her bottom lip as she stared off into space.
The room itself was spacious, dominated by an enormous king sized bed with handcrafted posts twined with sheer drapes. It matched the dresser, vanity, bench, and two end tables on either side. Like the rest of the house, the walls were an eggshell white with threads of gold woven in. The ceilings were trimmed with crown molding and the carpet was thick enough to swim through.
But it wasn’t her.
This neatly manicured existence with its picture perfectness wasn’t the Cora he knew, the one with a million chairs and obsession with clutter. This was a different Cora, a sheltered and cherished Cora before she learned who she was.
“Hey.” She lowered the pen and pad, and faced him. “Everything okay?”
James nodded. “You should be sleeping.”
Cora snorted. “How can I when my whole world was set on fire?” She burned him with the pain in her eyes. “Everything I owned was in that apartment, and someone just ... why would they do that? I don’t understand...”
“I’m going to find him.” James crossed to the bed and took a seat on a mattress that immediately engulfed him in their downy folds.
“But who is he?”
It made no sense to him why he felt so reluctant to tell her about Bishop. Part of him knew he should, because knowing could save her life, but a part of him desperately wanted to keep her out of all of it. She’d been so sheltered her entire life that dragging her into the darkness with him felt like abuse.
Even more, he corrected mentally to himself. Because he’d already pulled her in with him. She was neck deep in the dark abyss of his world, but he didn’t have to pull her under.
“That’s a story for morning—”
“No.” She pushed up onto her knees. The long, white t-shirt slipped down her lap to cover her mid-thigh. It also turned translucent in the golden glow of the lamplight behind her. He could clearly make out the delicious curves of her body underneath. “This needs to stop, James. You can’t do that.”
> It was a task lifting his attention away from the hard points jutting up against the front of her top. But he managed it and found himself lost in the fire of her eyes.
“I can actually. Have you forgotten who owns you, sweetheart?”
“You know what, I’m glad you brought that up, because I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it.” She shuffled forward on her knees a step. “Either I’m your wife or I’m your prisoner. I can’t wear both hats. If I’m your wife, then stop treating me like a slave you can boss around. If I’m your slave, build me a cage and keep me in it, because that’s the only way I’m going to simply fall in line.”
He stared at her.
She stared back, unflinching.
“Well?” she prompted when he remained firmly silent. “Which is it going to be?”
He rubbed his jaw to stop the muscles from flexing into the grin he was having a damn hard time concealing.
“Have you ever negotiated with a man before?” He ignored the rapid flutter of her lashes by reaching over and hooking the hem of her top between his fingers. “You should always be naked.” He hoisted the fabric over her head, baring her to him. “We think better when all the blood is in our cock.”
A grin trembled along one corner of her lips. It glinted in her eyes.
“Are you thinking clearly now?”
He took her by the hips and dragged her the rest of the way until she was straddling his lap. He reached between them and twisted her panties in his grasp. The thin straps snapped with one vicious tug.
Cora gasped. “Hey, that’s all the underwear I have.”
“I’ll buy you more.” He bit the nipple nearest him. “All the underwear you want.”
“I can buy my own underwear,” she breathed, hands bracing on his shoulders. “What I need is your promise to treat me like an equal, like a wife. Not a slave.”
“No.” He captured her wrists and twisted them behind her back. He kept them contained with one hand while the other flattened against her shoulder blades and nudged her closer. “You already swore to be my toy, remember?”
“But—”
He raised his head and nipped her lip hard enough to silence her.
Blood Script Page 32
