“Fucking bitch,” he snarled at her. “Fucking whore.”
“I hate you.” Her words were flat. “You deserve to die, you deserve to have your dick cut off and forced down your throat for what you did to them.”
“A rough fuck hurts no one.” His eyes fastened on Devon’s neck. “Your neck tells me you agree.”
Her hand flew to her neck before her fist connected with his jaw. Her yelp of pain reminded me her arm wasn’t supposed to be punching people. “You raped and murdered them!”
“Always knew she’d be a good fuck, just like her mother. She scream for you?” Snake asked me. “Watched her fuck that worthless cock, Tats. She hardly made a sound.”
“You saw us?” Devon looked at him in horror. “You watched? You sick bastard, I’m your daughter.”
“Pitiful.” He spat on the ground, and I almost kicked him in the face, but I had told Devon he was hers to deal with. “You’re nothing but a worthless bitch. Sleeping on the street like a fucking dog. Pissing in a corner. You make me sick.”
“You knew.” Her whole body was shaking. “Oh my God, you knew where I was.”
“Course I fucking knew,” he growled.
“Jimmy,” I told her quietly. Devon’s hurt was almost palpable. “That’s why he kept you safe.”
“Jimmy was a spy?” Devon asked in a soft whisper.
“He was an alcoholic who sold information to someone he shouldn’t,” I countered. I knew how much this would hurt her, but she needed to know.
Snake grunted on the ground, bringing our attention back to him. “So fucking naïve,” he spat. “Always were too fucking soft.”
“I’m not soft,” Devon told him defiantly. “How can I be? I’m your daughter.”
“That’s right, you little bitch, you’re mine. You will always be mine.”
My fist connected with his jaw much harder than Devon’s ever could. My foot pressed on his neck as he lay in the dirt. “No, fucker, she’s mine.”
“Give me a gun, Raphe.” Her voice was strong and clear, and I turned to her as her arm stretched forward. “I can do it,” she assured me.
I took my gun out of the back of my pants. “You good to aim?” I nodded to her arm.
“Sure.” She gave me a small smile. “Point and shoot, right?”
“Brace your shoulder for the impact,” I murmured.
She missed him, and he laughed, spewing profanities at her incompetence. It seemed to calm her as she listened to his hateful diatribe. Her second shot hit his upper thigh, and he hissed in pain. Her third shot hit him in the groin, and I realised that’s where she had been aiming all along. His screams were like beautiful music.
“Can he die from that?” Devon asked.
“Eventually.”
“He’ll be in pain the whole time?” She handed me the gun.
“Agony.”
“Gag him again.” She told me. “It’s too beautiful a morning to be disturbed by that.” Devon walked into the cabin, coming back minutes later with her coffee. She sat on the step and watched him writhing in pain. She watched him until he could no longer move. She watched him until his breathing became more laboured and his body turned cold. Devon watched him as he died a slow, horrific, painful death. When he was dead, she got up and went to head inside. She startled slightly when I shot him in the head. He was dead, but I liked to make sure.
After wrapping his body in plastic and dragging it to my small garage, out of the easy access of any wildlife, I found her in my bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring out the window. “I don’t want him buried on this land. This is a good place, a safe place for me.”
“I’ll make sure he’s burned.” At her questioning look, I explained. “Cremation.”
“Good.”
“Are you okay?” I sat beside her, my hand taking hers, my fingers intertwining in hers. “There’s no one to run from anymore.”
“You?”
“Well, you could go.” I swallowed past the sudden dryness of my throat. “If you want to. I wouldn’t stop you.”
Devon glanced at me. “That’s disappointing.”
“Is it?” I asked with a small smile.
“You promised me you would always find me, no matter where I went.”
“I did.” I nodded. “But if you wanted, instead of running…you could just stay. Here. With me.”
“I want a golden retriever. This place needs a dog, and I want company for when you’re gone.”
“Sounds good.”
“We live here, all the time.”
“Okay. I can travel for work.”
Devon snorted out a laugh. “They do say the killer is in the commute.”
“Such a comedian, you should be on stage,” I said dryly.
“Will you stay with me, Raphe?” Her voice was small, her body tense in anticipation of my rejection.
“Always.”
We sat in silence for a long time, both of us no doubt processing our new future.
Devon turned towards me, with a gleam in her eye. “Can I call the dog Killer?”
“Absolutely not.” She opened her mouth to suggest something else, and my lips captured hers as I eased her back onto the mattress. “Time for talking later,” I said as I nuzzled her neck, and my hand slipped under her hoodie, stroking over her soft skin. “Time for this now.”
Devon gasped as I nipped at her collarbone. “Okay, later. We have plenty of laters.”
Two Months Later
“I have no idea why I’m so nervous,” Devon said to me as she straightened her blouse, tucking it into her knee-length skirt. Her low-heeled shoes gave a slight arch to her calf, and my eyes had been admiring her legs all morning. “Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered as she reached for my hand.
“Stop showing me all your curves, and I won’t think about fucking you this morning in the shower when you begged me to spank your tight little ass,” I answered with a smirk as I acknowledged our host as we approached.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Devon protested. “I didn’t say that!”
“You did, you said fuck me harder, spank my ass like I’ve been a bad naughty girl.”
Devon stopped and stared at me. “No. I didn’t.”
“I heard it.” I shrugged as I tugged her forward.
“I didn’t say any of that,” Devon said as her face flushed scarlet.
“You sure?” I glanced at her. “I definitely heard begging.”
“We’re not alone,” she hissed at me.
“Pity.” I smiled. “I could make you beg again.” I gave her a smug grin. “Look at that, you’re no longer nervous.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Funny, that was my thought about Raphael when I met him too,” Louis said congenially. He held his hand out to Devon, and she shook it wordlessly. I knew her mind was racing, trying to figure out how much Louis may have overheard.
We sat at a table at his poolside while Devon made polite conversation about his home.
“Why did you kill him?” Louis asked me suddenly. Devon’s mouth snapped shut.
“He was going to die either by Nico’s hand or someone else’s,” I answered honestly. “The threat to you was too great.”
“It was not your decision to make.”
“You would never have made it.” I held his gaze confidently.
“Who sanctioned it?”
“You know I won’t answer that.”
Louis huffed as he looked out over his pool and his gardens. “And I sanctioned Nico’s death. So you hold that power over me.”
“I hold nothing over you, capo.”
Louis’s eyes snapped to mine, hard and unyielding, the previous easy familiarity gone. “Why are you here?” he asked me tersely.
“I brought you a gift.”
“I don’t want your gift,” he snarled. “I want my nephew.”
“No, you want your son, you want your grandchildren.”
His laugh was bitter. “You continue to us
e my grief to your advantage,” he said as he shook his head. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?”
“Because I love him,” Devon spoke up.
Louis turned to her and for the first time, really looked at her. “I know you.”
“No.” Devon smiled gently at him. “Not yet.”
“You look so familiar.”
“I look like my mother,” Devon told him. With a glance to me, she carried on at my silent encouragement. “Sophia Maria Neroni was her real name.”
“No.” Louis searched Devon’s face. “Sophia died. Young. Too young.”
“My”—Devon stumbled—“my father abducted her. He kept her in his house, caged. He beat her, hurt her, but she became pregnant anyway and carried me to full term.” Her voice wavered as tears spilled over.
“He was a Devil’s Highwayman,” I continued. “A sick fucker who no longer breathes. He did this to too many women, but Devon’s mother is the only one we know of who became pregnant and gave birth.”
“I was born Davina Courtney Lannister,” Devon continued. “When I was a baby, she escaped him. But he had done his damage. My mom was a broken woman, and she died when I was thirteen.”
“How?” Louis asked.
“Overdose,” I answered him. “Devon was in foster care, her father always watching, but she didn’t know. He got her eventually, and she managed to escape. She saw us the night Emilio failed to kill the informant. I put her in a shelter; I didn’t know what to do with her.” I caught her hand on the table. “You saw her at Lucille’s. You told me you recognised a young woman there.”
“I did.” Louis looked at her again. “It was you. You look so much like her.”
“I do,” Devon agreed. “I hated that when I was younger.”
“Sophia was only seventeen when her car crashed. Her body burned in the flames. It was so bad they couldn’t identify her.” Louis was looking between us.
“I don’t know how my father got to her, but it wasn’t my mom they found.”
“You kill my nephew and present me with a niece?” Louis’s eyes narrowed on mine. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Not until I started looking into Devon.” I told them how I had her past investigated, digging up every piece of information on her. “Her DNA is in the system from her DUI. On a hunch, we compared it to yours. You’re a familial match. Close enough to be uncle or cousin, not brother or father.” I watched him as it sank in. “You’re too old to be cousin, and your younger sister, Sophia, died when you were in your late twenties. It fits. She fits.”
“It was him, in your trunk the night you asked me to trust you?” Louis asked me. “The night you killed my nephew, the man who took my sister from me was in your trunk.”
“You didn’t recognise him, but you know the Riccis are dangerous,” I answered. “I knew I had to dig more. The fact an affiliated Ricci took a Neroni and held her prisoner? It fits, there’s no love lost between your families. He liked to feel powerful,” I added with scorn dripping from my voice.
“I want my own test done.”
“Of course,” Devon answered him. “Anything you need. It’s a huge adjustment. I understand.”
“What do you want from me?” Louis asked her bluntly.
Devon sat back and considered him. “A chance?” She gripped my hand. “And maybe a promise not to kill the man I’m going to marry?”
“The promise, I cannot make, yet,” Louis said to her. “A chance at what?”
“To know you?” Devon shifted in her seat. “My mom was a broken shell of a woman, and now that I know what she went through, I feel so incredibly guilty that I hated her when she was alive. I know what he did to her, and she kept me, she lived with me every day, seeing and remembering that monster every day. I don’t know how she made it to me being thirteen.” Devon didn’t realise she was crying again.
“And then I got into a terrible relationship, made a stupid mistake, and when I ran away, I thought I had found a new life. But instead I found my father. He kept me chained in his house for almost two years, and I listened to him beat and torture the women he kept in a cage. Tending their bruises when he left, unable to help them, unable to help me. And then a friend died to free me. And I ran again.” She rubbed her nose. “And when Raphe found me, everything became better. He really has given me a new life, and I know what love is. I know what belonging is. I have no family. I have had a really tragic, pathetic life until this man.” Her eyes shone with love, and it still blew me away each and every time. “I know he’s not a saint, I know he makes really awful decisions, but he makes them from a good place for the people he cares about.” Devon wiped her eyes. “He did what you needed. Because that’s what Raphe does, he makes the hard and horrible choices so we don’t have to.” She gave Louis a tremulous smile. “I want a chance for you to know us, to be a part of our lives.” She gave a soft sorrowful shake of her head. “I’ve never had an uncle,” she admitted shyly.
“There is no one else?” Louis asked her.
“Well, we have a dog called Goldie.” Devon beamed at him. “But she loves Raphe more than me,” she added grumpily. I knew my smirk was smug. “And when we’re ready,” Devon told him with what I felt was an astounding amount of confidence, “I’m going to have all the babies.”
“All the babies?” I questioned. Me? Kids? No. I’d never planned for a future. With Devon…maybe?
“Yes, all of them. You’ll need to build me a new house.” Her eyes twinkled with laughter, and I shook my head at her preposterousness. We would discuss this later. Family could make you weak. I was not weak.
“I’ve never seen you like…this,” Louis told me.
“I’ve never been like this.”
“It’s a good look for you.” He smiled at me for the first time since I sat down. “We’ll get tested in the morning,” he said, turning back to Devon.
“Okay.” Devon nodded eagerly, so happy he was willing to give her a chance.
By the time we left, Louis was a happier man. It was Devon, she just brought it out in people, their happiness. As we drove to the airport, she started to fidget.
“I told you, it will be fine.”
“It’s easy for you to say, you don’t know what it’s like.” She checked her makeup again in the small compact mirror.
“Know what what’s like?”
“Meeting the parents!”
“Are you joking? I met your dear old dad, remember?” I cast her a look of outrage. “Actually”—I thought about it—“my dad may be worse.”
“I’m going to be sick.”
“Sick bags are where they were last time,” I answered.
“You’re still such a scary bastard sometimes,” she muttered with a small smile as she closed her eyes and controlled her breathing.
“Good.”
Devon’s snort told me exactly what she thought of that, and we made the rest of the journey in companionable silence.
Thirty minutes later, we were at the gates, waiting for my parents to come through. As I shook my dad’s hand and hugged my mom, Devon stood back slightly. My mom was having none of it and engulfed her in a huge hug as my dad and I exchanged a knowing look. Mom hooked her arm through Devon’s, and they started to walk back to the car as dad and I managed the luggage, and my mom peppered Devon with a load of questions. He was here to help clear up any legalities there may have been from Devon having run from the hospital all those years ago. I trusted no one else to handle it. When my mom realised I was in a relationship with Devon, she insisted on coming too.
“She’s never going to leave,” my dad complained softly as we walked after them.
“I can sedate her at any time and have her on the next flight home,” I assured him easily.
“Hmph, I may need to learn that trick; I could use it for some of my clients,” my dad joked, and a startled laugh from me caused us both to chuckle. “She’s very pretty,” dad added.
“She is.”
“Got it
bad, huh?” He seemed pleased for me, which was new.
“I may do,” I admitted softly.
“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” he said as my mom turned to look over her shoulder and their eyes met.
“I’m gonna puke.”
“I told you to always put sick bags in the pockets in your car,” he admonished me.
He had absolutely no idea why that made me start laughing, and I was still chuckling when we left the terminal.
“You seem happy?” Devon asked me as she slipped under my arm.
“Do I?” I teased her with a wink and repressed the groan as I heard my mom sigh contentedly beside me. Devon dipped her head to hide her smile at my exaggerated exasperation. It was going to be a long visit, but it had the potential to be a good one.
Louis was going to realise Devon was his flesh and blood, and I knew she would help him heal.
The Sabinos were still mourning the death of a son, his tragic overdose rocking the family, but Micky was picking up the slack with Cam as his constant shadow.
Emilio Neroni had tragically died later the same night, also high on drugs. He was known to party too hard, so it was no surprise to the other families that this was how he died. He and Nico hadn’t hid their over the top partying during the Sabino visit.
Malcolm was still making money, hand over fist. Like Louis, Malcolm was investing in nightclubs and bars, the MC supplying the party favours for the right price.
Life was good. Everything had settled down. There was no backlash on me or on the families that sanctioned the kills, none of them realising fully that they all had a hand to play in the death of Nico and Emilio or realising that they had all instructed me to kill them both.
Most importantly, I had Devon. She chose to stay with me, knowing who I was and what I did. On nights where I had to work late, she simply waited up for me to come home. No matter how tired I was or who I had dealt with that night, she kissed me the way she had always kissed me. No doubt. No fear.
She chose me. She had no one chasing her anymore, she could be anyone or go anywhere that she wanted. Devon had finally stopped running, but if she ever wanted to leave, she knew I would let her go. She had been through too much not to be in control of her own freedom. I may tie her up now and again for fun during sex, but I would never tie her down.
Beautifully Broken (The Denver Series Book 2) Page 34
