Lucca (Made Men Book 4)

by Sarah Brianne

  This time, her fear-strained voice came from beyond the door. “I’ll call the cops!”

  “Then I’ll make sure they arrest you for kidnapping!” I returned.

  “Bullshit!” she snapped back, surprising me.

  I sure as hell had never met her before, but from what people had told me, Mallory was supposed to be a quiet girl, submissive. She must have changed in the last three and a half years.

  At her snap, Adair began crying, and she softly cooed back.

  “Mallory Ward, open this door now.”

  “Like hell I’ll open for a Black Angel,” she hissed.

  “Even if your son’s father was one?”

  That brought absolute silence.

  “Mall—”

  “Please …” she begged, her voice so soft I barely heard it. “Go away.”

  I didn’t consider her plea for a single second. I hadn’t come all this way to be turned away from the one thing I spent the last two years searching for. “Not until I see my nephew.”

  For a long time, I heard nothing.

  As I was about to start yelling again, the door was slowly opened, and in the doorway stood a wide-eyed Mallory. Her small body only reached to my mid-chest. Her head was tilted back, the big brown discs of her eyes meeting mine. Inside them was a mix of pain, despair, and even a hint of relief.

  “Nephew?” she croaked, her eyes searching mine, which were the same soft green she must have seen up close almost four years ago.

  “Noble was my brother,” I answered with the softest resignation, the words still tight in my throat.

  “Oh,” Mallory whispered, her eyes flickering across my face: the sharper jaw, the dark brown hair—all the things that set me apart from my brother. Then her gaze dropped to the worn wooden floor, her long red curls hiding her face. She brushed them back with slender hands. Her nails were cut short and plain, hard work evident in the slight calluses on her palms.

  She seemed to be taking everything in, but she wouldn’t step out of the way of the doorway, keeping the young boy protected from me. She kept one of his hands in hers as he hid behind her. His other hand was tucked into a tear over her knee.

  “You Mallory?” I asked, my voice rough and graveled.

  She snapped her head back up and that vulnerable expression was replaced with a harsh scowl. “You were shouting it at the top of your lungs two seconds ago, and now you’re asking?”

  She was feisty; completely different from what I had heard. The few tenants of the previous places she had stayed had said she was quiet, kept to herself. They had also said other things, but none of that would waver his decision.

  “I’ve been looking for you for the past two years. I wanted to be sure.” I kept my emotions tied down as I looked at the woman who’d had me running in circles. She had moved from place to place, not staying anywhere long. Every time I had gotten close to her, she had moved on again. Today, I had caught my well-earned break. The call from one of my contacts that had said she had been spotted three states over had me on my bike in seconds.

  Mallory slowly nodded, glancing back and forth past both of my sides, probably planning an escape. She then looked back at the window in the room, which was open, and I saw a hint of her plan race across her face.

  Like hell.

  “I’ll catch you before you even get close,” I growled, the threat closer to a promise than a warning. “I’m not letting you get away from me again.”

  She scowled in reaction, but it changed in an instant.

  “Mommy?” Adair said, tugging on her knitted blouse.

  She looked down at her son, who had small tears in his eyes, and stiffened, pushing him further behind her as her face contorted to mimic relief yet was still too strained. “It’ll be okay, Adair. Don’t worry.” She tried to hide the tremor in her voice, but it didn’t work.

  “I won’t hurt you,” I told them.

  “You broke down my door!” Mallory whirled back on me with a bite in her words that was nearing hysterical.

  I looked back down the hallway as if I could see around the corner. “Yeah.”

  Her gaze was flat as she levelled it on me, one brow raised with that are-you-nuts look.

  “No, I’m not,” I answered, though she didn’t verbally ask.

  “I didn’t—” She bit down on her lip to stop herself and settled for hissing, “Don’t read my mind.”

  “No,” I refused, just to piss her off. I couldn’t find it in me to tell her that it was written all over her face.

  “Are you psychic?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t read my mind.”

  My eyebrows pulled together. “I have to be psychic to be able to read you mind.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “What—”

  She stopped me with the shake of her head, raising a palm as she sighed in exasperation.

  Meanwhile, I was more than sure this woman was bat-shit crazy. In fact, I was certain of it. What my brother ever saw in her would remain a mystery. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the reason I was here.

  “You’re coming home,” I told her.

  The second the words left my lips, I saw a rush of fear encompass her. She stiffened, her eyes growing wide as she looked down into her hand without seeing it.

  It felt like a whole hour had passed before she turned to look at me, despair written in those brown eyes.

  “I can’t,” she whispered at last.

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Is there a difference?” she huffed, eyes looking straight into mine. “I’m not going back to that town either way.”

  “Adair is my nephew. I won’t have the last piece of my brother living on the other side of the country. Besides, your mother is there. Your family, friends …” I could go on and on about all the people who cared for Mallory Ward. The girl wasn’t noticeably popular, but she was loved by everyone who knew her.

  Her eyes flashed with pain and sadness before she turned away, leaning down to scoop up her little boy into her arms. His short arms swung around her neck and clung to her, his face buried in her hair.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, walking past me.

  “Why not?” I turned to follow her, one of my strides matching two of hers. “You owe someone money? Someone threatening you?”

  “No!” she hissed, turning on me with that defensive flare. “I’m happy here.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “It’s not!”

  “You’re telling me you love living in this run-down house that’s one knock away from falling to pieces in this kind of neighborhood?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with this neighborhood,” she replied, not disagreeing about the house.

  “This is a gang neighborhood. The house two streets down had the shit gunned out of it!” I already knew all the wrongs with her living conditions, but the more I listed them out loud, the more I felt the anger building in my chest. “Adair doesn’t even go to a school! He should already be in kindergarten by now!”

  “He’s not old enough for kindergarten. He’s in daycare,” she retorted, clutching the shaking Adair closer. “He goes to Sunny Skies.”

  “You mean that piece of shit painted with rainbows and dick graffiti I rode past on the way in?”

  She didn’t argue.

  “That’s it!” I yelled, throwing my arms in the air. “Grab your shit. You’re coming home with me.”

  “What?” she screeched. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  “Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice.” I reached forward and grabbed the free arm she wasn’t using to hold Adair, tugging her forward.

  “I do have a choice,” she growled, struggling against his hold. “And I’m not going with you.”

  “Then I’ll call child services,” I snapped, whirling on her. I dropped my voice. “Then they’ll come; they’ll see this house, that piece of crap school, that house torn apart by bullets; and they’ll take Adair from you. Do you want
that?”

  “No!” Mallory screamed, her grip on Adair tightening.

  “Then you’re coming with me.”

  “But—”

  “No.”

  When her struggling began to wane, I loosened my grip. Suddenly, she stopped, and I jerked back, coming to a standstill.

  Turning to face her, I opened my mouth, ready to argue with her some more, only to snap it shut.

  Her eyes were downcast, wide and round, and so still it was unnerving.

  “Mallory?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  There was emotion, little bits of it flickering into smaller parts of her expression. She simply looked down into the gaping hole in the floor like it was the abyss to hell.

  “Mallory,” I said louder as I cupped her face, forcing her to look up at me. As she did, I noticed sorrow and grief, but most of all, guilt.

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “Why?” I demanded. Why couldn’t she come home? What was keeping her from the place that held everyone she loved? What was she hiding?

  She shook her head, unable to answer.

  I growled out a sigh, letting her go to run my hands through my hair, the cogs working in my head.

  “You’ll come home, and you’ll stay with me,” I declared.

  I had planned for her to move in with her mother or something, but until then, she was going to stay with me. Truth be told, I needed to keep my eyes on her. There was no way I could trust her not to run.

  She didn’t agree.

  “I can’t stay with you,” she argued, coming back to herself.

  I was about to argue some more when I heard the roar of a vehicle engine in front of the house. When the sound cut out, I turned back to Mallory, seeing her eyes on mine, seemingly thinking nothing of the sound.

  “That’s our ride,” I replied.

  In that second, she looked trapped, ready to bolt.

  “Child services,” I reminded her.

  Her expression turned into one of fury that made me feel cautious. Then she raised her free hand and swung at me so fast I didn’t have time to stop it.

  Heat burned the side of my face, and I was positive the metallic taste on my tongue was blood.

  “Bastard!” she hissed before stomping down the hallway and into one of the other rooms.

  “Where are you going?” I yelled.

  “To get my shit!” she yelled back.

  She slammed the door shut behind her with an echoing bang. Then I heard the harsh sound of Adair crying again. It was only a few moments before she appeared from the doorway again, Adair clutching her long shirt as she pulled a small suitcase behind her and hiked a large travel bag over one shoulder and her purse over the other.

  “Is that it?” I asked in surprise.

  “I travel light,” she growled, her anger still burning high.

  “Watch the sarcasm,” I said, taking the larger bag from her shoulder, along with the suitcase. As she went to argue, I added, “Grab Adair.”

  I didn’t stay to listen to her grumbling, choosing to stalk through the house and past the collapsed door as Jax jumped out of the four-door truck.

  “I never knew pink looked so good on you.” He chuckled, gesturing at the pink suitcase. “Come into your inner feminism?”

  I grunted, throwing the suitcase into the back of the truck.

  He was about to say something else when he looked up, his eyes almost popping out his head. “Holy shit, if I knew you were hunting down such a nice piece of ass, Hunter, I would have joined you.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I snapped, shoving the back gate closed.

  Jax shrugged, exposing his myriad of tattoos. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” He slapped my shoulder with a grin then looked back over his shoulder. “So, you gonna let me ride her?”

  I raised my fist, ready to knock the teeth right out of his skull, but Jax ducked out of reach.

  “I meant your Harley.” He laughed, knowing damn well he said it that way on purpose.

  “You’re the only one who can get away with that shit, you dick,” I growled, digging my keys out of my pocket and tossing them at him.

  He snatched them out of the air, looking at my beautifully inked bike parked in the driveway.

  “You dare get a scratch on my bike, I’ll take yours apart.”

  “No worries, bro.” He started making his way toward the bike. “I’ll see you back at the compound, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for the truck.” I didn’t take my eyes off him as he swung his leg over her body. His size, though a little smaller than mine, fit snuggly on her seat.

  He put his unruly black hair into the helmet, started up the engine, and then pulled out of the driveway. The beast roared as she tore down the tarmac and out of sight.

  I turned back toward the truck to see Mallory standing on the truck’s running board; her round, perky ass swaying as she leaned into the cab. I stood there for a minute, admiring the shape of her ass, thinking how, if it was any other woman, I would have told her to park it on my lap already. But she wasn’t any other woman. I knew the kind of woman she was, and the fact I was already checking out her ass pissed me the hell off.

  “What are you doing?” I snapped.

  After a few moments of ignorance, she pulled back out of the cab and stepped down off the running board before turning to face me. “Strapping Adair into the car seat.”

  She then smiled as she leaned back toward the truck as I stepped forward, watching as she placed a small kiss on Adair’s cheek. His green eyes wrinkled in a smile.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “We’re going home.”

  “Home?” Adair repeated, eyes curious.

  “Yeah.” The resignation in her voice was crystal clear. “Home.”

  With a final brush of his cheek, she stepped back and closed the door. Then she looked back at me, the deep mothering brown seeming cold and sad.

  “I’ll go back with you on one condition.”

  “Condition or not, babe, you don’t have a choice,” I told her, stepping toward her until only a few feet separated us.

  “Then a favor,” she pleaded.

  I narrowed my eyes with a raised brow.

  She looked back at the truck through the tinted window. Then, as if it spurred her resolve, she looked back at me with determined eyes. “Don’t let anyone know who Adair’s father is.”

  “Like fuck,” I growled. No way in hell was I denying my brother his only legacy.

  “Please. I don’t want anyone knowing.”

  “You’d rather I lie to all my brothers and tell them what? That this is just some kid I picked up?”

  “No,” she said, looking back and forth up the street as if to inspire her with an idea. Then she looked back at me, her eyes locking onto mine. When they softened, I recognized the look.

  “No,” I said before she could open her mouth.

  “But you have the same eyes!” she pressed.

  “I’m not claiming him as mine. I won’t take that away from Noble.”

  “Please.” Her voice was growing more desperate as she stepped into my space. “It’s not forever … I just … I want to protect him.”

  “And lying about his dead father will put him danger?”

  “I—”

  “No.”

  “I’ll run,” she promised. “I’ll run every chance I get unless you do this for me. For Adair.”

  I gazed into her eyes, and God be damned if I didn’t see the absolute truth in them. I could say I would keep her locked up, not letting her out of my sight, but I also knew I couldn’t do that to Adair. He was my nephew, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t take him away from his mother. Every kid needed a mother, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the tenants I had tracked down had told me Mallory was a damn good mother, despite her terrible life choices.

  I clamped my hands down at my sides, sure the horrible taste in my mouth was acid when I spat the single
word I would probably regret. “Fine.”

  I could see relief flood her eyes, but I wouldn’t let her live in it for long.

  “Only until I find out what it is you’re fuckin’ hiding from me,” I growled, stepping into her space, watching her eyes jump up to mine in panic. She was so close I could feel her nipples grazing my chest, and as much as I would have been interested, I was too pissed to care. “You ran for a reason. And I will find out what it is. You hear me?”

  She swallowed. “Yeah, I hear you.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of her space and stormed around the truck, swinging the door open. I jumped in, turning the keys in the ignition and firing the truck to life.

  Mallory slowly got into the truck, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

  “Seatbelt,” I snapped.

  She flinched, jerking around to fumble the clip into the lock. After a third failed attempt at getting the damn thing in, I grabbed it from her and pushed it in until it clicked.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, pressed as close to the door as she could get.

  Putting the truck into drive and getting the hell away from this neighborhood, not looking at her as I turned onto the interstate heading home, I said, “By the way, the name’s Hunter.”

  Two

  Mallory

  As I watched the grass banks of the interstate disappear behind us, I felt as if my heart was disappearing along with it. I looked at Adair sleeping in the car seat that had been installed in the back.

  I didn’t have a car. I couldn’t afford one after mine broke at the Denver border. It was a problem I would have had to face if I had stuck to my plans to carry on into Omaha. Looked like that problem was out the window, along with my mind.

  Going back to Fellpeak? Staying with Hunter, who said nothing the entire journey? Lying about him being Adair’s father? It was ridiculous. And stupid. Even so, there was no way I could let Adair go into child protective services at the cost of fighting Hunter.

  It was true that choosing that house had been the last resort when my car had given up. And I had to put Adair in that daycare to work. It was that or the streets, and there was no way I would let my baby starve.

  Adair gurgled, catching my attention. I couldn’t stop the smile pulling on my lips. He was a smaller replica of his father. I had to admit I felt a little lonesome, struggling to see my features in his face; but seeing the amount of Noble in him, I had no doubt he would grow up to be just like him: kind, generous, and beautiful inside and out.