by Wild, Cassie
There were other sculptures too, mostly of stone, but I thought a few might be bronze. All of them were tasteful and discreet, giving the message that although money might live here, so did class.
It was a sharp contrast from Marcos Castellanos’s home. This wasn’t the first job I’d worked for him, and several times, he’d called me out to his place for job updates, or just to hit one of his parties. He liked to show off his wealth. He also liked to offer drugs, booze, or women to people who worked for him. I thought he thought it might engender loyalty—and I knew for a fact he liked to watch people fuck. He also had a habit of recording people if he thought those recordings might one day come in useful. It was one of many, many reasons I had no desire to indulge in any of the vices he offered.
I was neither a junky nor an alcoholic, even if I did drink more than I should. His free offerings of drugs didn’t appeal, and while I might enjoy some of the pricey booze he doled out, I also knew he had a habit of spiking it. I didn’t like being out of control, so I also abstained.
I’d never taken any of the women he’d pushed my way, either. Too many of them looked back at me with something akin to desperation in their eyes. Even thinking of it made me even more disgusted with myself than I already was, so I shoved it aside and tried to get back on track.
I had a job I was supposed to be doing.
Briar’s family seemed decent enough, but they were still the bedrock crime family in Philadelphia. I’d done my homework, and I knew the shit they were involved in.
Whether or not Briar was in on it, I still didn’t know, but it seemed absurd that a smart woman like her didn’t know.
How could she not?
And if she did know, then she wasn’t even close to innocent, and I didn’t need to feel like shit for doing the job I was hired to do.
The problem was that I was good at my job. I knew how to read people, and when I looked at Briar, I didn’t see a woman tangled up in the kind of shit her brothers and dad were involved in.
Her brothers, her dad…yeah…their eyes carried a specific kind of knowledge.
But hers…they just didn’t.
“Stop it,” I muttered. This had nothing to do with the job I needed to do.
That was what I tried to make myself believe.
That was what I needed to believe.
I was having a hard time convincing myself of it, though.
Maybe I didn’t have particularly high standards, but I did have certain lines I wouldn’t let myself cross. Violence had never posed a problem for me, although women and kids were off limits, as were people over a certain age, unless my employer could convince me that some eighty-year-old guy really had it coming to him. I didn’t mind stealing, and I’d even taken on a few kidnapping cases—if the price was right.
I did draw the line at murder, although I would kill in self-defense. It hadn’t ever come to that, but one day, it just might.
I could lie, steal, and cheat with the best of them.
Usually, it didn’t bother me at all because the kind of people who hired me didn’t usually get involved with decent people, so I wasn’t generally sent after anybody who didn’t have plenty of skeletons in their closet.
Marcos Castellanos had a beef with the Downing family, and they had plenty of skeletons.
But he had me going through Briar to get to them, and it was getting harder and harder to justify it to myself every day.
Twelve
Briar
The sun had started to set. Searching the house for Cormac, I found him standing on the back patio, his body silhouetted against the beautiful red-gold of the slowly setting sun.
His shoulders were rigid and taut. Everything about him gave off a stay-back vibe, which was the main reason I was still in the house talking about possible shopping plans instead of being out there with him.
I’d much rather spend the day inside, maybe looking for online bargains then venture out into the madness, but since this was my first Black Friday off in ages, maybe I should do something to commemorate it.
“Everything okay between you two?”
I looked up to find Daria watching me, her pretty eyes concerned.
I allowed the breath I’d been holding to seep from my lips in a slow stream of air. “Yeah. I mean, I think so. Why wouldn’t they be?”
“You tell me,” she answered, her eyes full of wisdom. “You’re the one watching him and looking like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“No.” I laughed and sat back in the chair, resisting the urge to look back at him once more. “It’s just the weight of a relationship.” I lifted a shoulder and shot her a nervous smile. “I’m…kind of new at them, you know. Not too many high school guys want to bother dating a girl who has an IQ nearly double theirs and is already in college. Even the college guys who were my age were weirded out by me.”
“So, this is your first serious relationship?”
The question came from Isabel, and I glanced at her, appraising the look on her face. It matched the somewhat disbelieving sound of her voice, as if she couldn’t believe a woman could reach twenty-five without having any real relationships in her life.
I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve dated some. And there have been a couple of…physical relationships,” I said, deciding to keep it simple. “But…” I hesitated, not certain where to go from there.
“Have you ever invited a guy home for a holiday dinner?” Isabel asked, cutting right to the chase.
“No.”
She blinked and stared at me for so long I grew self-conscious. “Because your brothers are so protective?”
“No.” I snorted. “I can handle my brothers. There just wasn’t anybody I was that interested in.”
“Until now.” Daria brushed her fingers over my hand. “I think it’s sweet.” I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She grinned and gave my hand a gentle pat. “I do. You should see the way he watches you. It’s kind of like the way I’ve seen Brooks watching me sometimes. Like he wants to just…” Her cheeks went pink, and she leaned in, lowering her voice as she finished, “It’s like he wants to just eat you alive. You’ve seen it, yes?”
My face blossomed with heat, and I could feel the blush creep down my neck as I admitted, “Yes.” I couldn’t help it. I squirmed in my seat, which made me acutely conscious of the fact that I was bare under the wool. Even though I’d cleaned up in the bathroom just off my old bedroom, I was acutely conscious of how it had felt when he’d taken me, like he was branding me.
Something on my face had Isabel giggling. I think Daria saw it too, but instead of laughing, she pushed the paper into the middle of the table. “I think we should start here. Brooks has already arranged for me to have the car, and if I get Isabel firs before picking you up, we’ll be only a few minutes from this store. We could get started at four.”
As a distraction, it was quite effective.
“Four in the morning?” I groaned.
Isabel swore.
Daria laughed, and in the silence that followed, I gave her a look of gratitude.
* * *
“Did you have fun?” I asked Cormac once he’d slid into the seat next to me.
It was probably hoping too much for the response to be a yes.
He confirmed my suspicions with his answer just seconds later. “It was a decent afternoon. Interesting.”
“Interesting, how?”
He hitched up a shoulder in a shrug, staring out the windshield with a focused gaze.
I finally put the car into drive and pulled out of the horseshoe, passing around Brooks’s and Declan’s cars. Isabel and Sean had left about twenty minutes ago, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my older brothers stayed another couple of hours.
There was something in Cormac’s tone that made me reluctant to ask just what he meant by interesting.
Had he wondered about Melia’s comment and maybe done some looking into my family’s background?
&n
bsp; I doubted he’d have to look far.
Plenty of people had made digs at me before, the kind of digs that made it harder and harder to keep clear of whatever shit my family was involved in.
“Sometimes,” I said in a neutral voice. “You have to take everything you hear with a grain of salt…and you also have to realize that sometimes people love their families in spite of their flaws.” I hesitated a moment, then asked, “Does that make sense?”
Taut silence stretched out between us for long seconds, then Cormac finally shattered it. “Princess, I grew up with a mum who was a staunch Irish-Catholic, and me da wasn’t much better than she was.” His Irish brogue was getting thicker, and I wondered if it was on purpose or if his memories were taking him back in time, to the boy he’d once been. “Once it became clear that I wasn’t going to be some lily-white altar boy, they all but threw me out on me arse.” He shot me a glittering look as I slowed to a stop at the end of the drive. “Who the hell am I to judge you for your family?”
I might have answered, but the dashboard lit up on the next second.
Sighing, I read the display. My phone’s Bluetooth was connected to the car, and I could see the hospital’s number.
I answered, keeping the irritation out of my voice. “Hello. Downing here.”
“Hi, Dr. Downing. I’m sorry to bother you on Thanksgiving, but I needed to let you know you’ll be required to come in tomorrow. Dr. Haskins is down sick with a virus, and you’re first on the roster to cover.”
I couldn’t decide if I was glad to have an easy cop-out for the shopping spree or not. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”
The call disconnected, and Cormac broke the silence by pointing out the obvious. “You had plans for tomorrow.”
“True. But this is why they pay me the big bucks…my plans are often subject to change.”
Thirteen
Cormac
Briar’s nude, sleek form was tucked up against the front of mine. Her hair had been pushed over her shoulder, save for a thick, heavy swath of it that I held between thumb and forefinger. She had the softest hair.
I’d always been a fan of a woman’s hair. At least I’d thought.
But until I’d fisted my hands in Briar’s, I realized I’d just been a mere amateur when it came to true enjoyment.
Now, I lay behind her rubbing a hank of it, loving the thickness, the softness, the way it curled around my forefinger and thumb, and I knew I’d truly never really appreciated the beauty of a woman’s hair until I’d met her.
I’d been playing with her hair for almost thirty minutes.
The time played out across the pale green screen of the digital clock on the bedside table. According to that clock, it was just after midnight. Briar had set the alarm to wake her a few minutes before five. She’d given me a sardonic smile. “It’s funny, but if I could have taken the day off, I would have been getting up earlier. Since I got called into work, I’m actually getting to sleep in. Crazy, huh?”
She’d retreated to the bathroom for a long, hot soak, and I’d settled down on the couch with a beer and the sports channel, although I had no interest in the various football games that had played throughout the day.
Although Briar had to work, she’d told me I was welcome to stay at the house for as long as I wanted.
That meant I’d probably leave about ten minutes after she did.
As much as I loved being in her house, it was almost…claustrophobic without her here.
She mumbled something under her breath, then rolled onto her side and faced me.
I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her in close to me, tucking her head under my chin. She sighed, and I stroked my hand down her spine. Immediately, she snuggled in closer.
The feel of her made me close my eyes. The trust she displayed even in her sleep did crazy things to me, and I didn’t want to think too much about it. I didn’t want to think about a lot of things, namely the vulnerability I’d seen in her eyes when she talked about her family.
The call from the hospital had come in right after I’d mentioned my parents, and I’d expected her to push for more information, but she hadn’t. Instead, she’d just covered my hand with hers, offering a wordless show of support, something I didn’t think anybody else had ever given me.
I turned my face into her hair and breathed in the scent of her. It was soft and sweet, and if I’d let myself, I could have taken a significant amount of comfort in her presence.
But I didn’t think I had the right to do that.
I also worried that if I let myself start…I wouldn’t be able to stop.
* * *
I hadn’t thought I’d be able to drift back off to sleep, but I did.
When I woke up, golden light streamed in through the cracks in the curtains, and I cracked one eye open just a mere slit, trying to take in the coming morning without it fully assaulting me.
With my left hand, I swept out, searching for Briar’s warm form.
She wasn’t there.
I groaned and sat up, staring at the clock on the nightstand.
It was already after seven.
Briar would have been at work for an hour now.
Swiping a hand down my face, I played with the idea of laying back down and trying to sleep another few hours away, but I already knew that without Briar’s soothing presence there, it just wasn’t going to happen.
I shoved upright and stretched, feeling bones pop while muscles screeched in denial.
I had no desire to be awake or upright, and if I had to be both awake and upright, I’d rather it be happening with Briar wrapped around my dick.
Things had been…odd between us last night. Decidedly so.
Even once we’d slipped into bed and I’d pulled her up against me, it felt like there was some sort of wall between us and I didn’t know how to traverse it.
The bitch of it all was that I was the reason the wall was there.
“Stop thinking of her,” I muttered to myself.
It was solid advice.
I needed to get out of there, away from her scent and the memory of her that intruded on my thoughts every direction I turned.
* * *
“Look what the dog dragged in.”
I cast a sidelong look at Jerrel. “I’m almost positive the saying is look what the cat dragged in.”
“Cat’s got better taste.” He sneered as he looked me up and down. His gaze sharpened on me and a decidedly devious smile curled his lips. “So, what are you up to today?”
“Sleeping,” I told him, tossing the response over my shoulder, although I’d already figured I wouldn’t be getting any more rest today.
“Yeah, you’ll be sleeping about as much as I will.” He gave me a hard look from head to toe. After a few seconds, he tossed a flyer at me. “In case you get bored.”
I caught it before it could drift to the ground, ignoring Jerrel as he strutted past me, close enough that his shoulder bumped into mine. I stood my ground, so he basically bounced right off, but neither of us acknowledged the other. He kept walking.
I kept reading.
To my surprise, I found myself smiling.
An underground fight.
If anybody could beat the undisputed champion, they got five grand.
It had been a while since I’d been in a good brawl. Jerrel, really, didn’t count. He’d hauled out a knife just to make things easier on him, and he still hadn’t won.
* * *
I didn’t sign up to fight as a challenger in the primary.
There were a couple of options, and since I didn’t see the point in wasting my time, I sat around, watching a few rounds, then went back to the cage where they took bets and challengers, and put myself down for two grand, challenging the winner of the night.
The guy in the cage gave me a skeptical look. “You know the odds on that, son?”
I gave him a sharp-edged grin and assured him I did, then took the information and the ticket he provided, returnin
g to my seat to watch the bloody festivities.
Hours passed.
Evening came, and twilight started to fall as the challengers proved themselves.
Finally, a few of them started to stand out, and I picked the one who’d be standing at the end of it all.
The problem with fights like this was that even the best, no matter how tough he was, would be tired by the time he faced the so-called champion.
That was why I was willing to pay a little more, risk a little more to skip all the bullshit.
Some of them might like the idea of figuring their odds by working their way up the food chain and earning the smaller amounts of cash along the way, but I’d been getting by on my fists and wits for years and had a good eye for deciding whether or not a person was a match for me.
Once I had an idea who was the best fighter, all I had to do was decide if I could beat him.
Then I went and looked up the ‘champ’ online and watched a few of his fights.
It hadn’t taken more than a couple to decide the guy was good, but his luck outreached his skill, and he had a couple of people working in his corner who really knew how to work things.
All I had to do was beat the primary challenger, then fight the champ, and the money was mine.
* * *
By ten o’clock, I was bloody, bruised…and seven grand richer, five for beating the champ, plus the two grand I got for beating the guy before him. I found a local ATM and fed most of the cash into it because I’d been robbed a couple of times. I wasn’t running the risk of that happening again. I kept a few hundred out, thinking maybe I’d take Briar out to dinner.
