Wicked Surrender (Hollis Brothers Book 3)

by Linda Verji

  Misha paused for a moment, threw a tentative glance over her shoulder towards the men before leaning forward and lowering her voice. “I’m going to tell you two something and if you say a word to anyone else, I will kill you. Shakira.” She shot her sister-in-law a glare.

  “Why are you assuming that I’m the one who’ll tell?” Shakira protested.

  “Because you’re the one with the blubber mouth,” London said. “Now shut up so Misha can dish.”

  Misha lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m already pregnant.”

  “Aaa-” Shakira started loudly.

  “Shsh!” Misha cut her off with a warning look. Shakira slapped a hand over her mouth even as her eyes widened into saucers of shock.

  “Congratulations.” London wanted to circle the table but Misha shook her head, gesturing to the men.

  “I haven’t told Danny yet because I don’t know how he’ll take it,” Misha said. “He does not want another baby.”

  “He’ll come round to it,” London reassured.

  “Yeah, probably.” Misha threw a nervous look in her husband’s direction. “But he’ll mouth off a lot before he does and insist that I cut down my working time. He thinks I’m taking on too much already.”

  “I can understand where he’s coming from,” Shakira said. “I feel like I’m running on pure steam and I’ve got Talia only. You’ve got Colin and Alexander PI, and you’re having another baby? Lord, help you!”

  “I know.” Misha sighed. “Man, it is hard being a working mother. I love, love, love being a private investigator but I also feel like I’m not giving Colin all the attention he deserves. And now this new baby…”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it.” London rounded the table to smooth a consoling hand over their friend’s back. “I’m sure Colin and the new one will appreciate having a mother who has dreams of her own and isn’t afraid to go after them. You’re a role model to a lot of people.”

  “She’s right,” Shakira agreed. “Besides, it isn’t like you’re neglecting him. That kid has all the love he needs. I mean, there’s a reason Nathan calls that boy you’re PA. You carry him with you everywhere like he’s your purse.”

  “No, I don’t,” Misha denied, with a laugh even though everyone knew she did.

  “Aaand, you could always hire someone to help you out at Alexander PI,” London suggested. “You can afford-”

  She stopped speaking when she saw Danny approaching their table, his gaze trained on his wife. That man seemed to have an internal alarm that seemed to go off whenever Misha was the slightest bit discomfited.

  To be honest before Danny and Nathan, London had had a hard time believing there was anything like love and loyalty in today’s relationships. Just lust, sex and baby-daddies. But those two men had restored her faith in men, love and marriage. Despite the marital problems both couples experienced, she never doubted that they were it for keeps. Hopefully, she’d find something like that for herself someday. Her gaze immediately swung towards Zeke.

  No, not there, she mentally berated herself as she forced herself to turn her attention back to Danny who’d just arrived at their table.

  The barbecue lasted late into the evening. London was at the sink, stacking up the dishes so she could hand-wash them when Zeke stopped beside her.

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  Her first instinct was to refuse. But the dishes were stacked too high and she wasn’t a masochist. “Grab some gloves.”

  They washed in silence for quite some time, each second of which she was ridiculously aware of him. It was Zeke who finally broke that uncomfortable silence. “Thanks for the meal tonight. It was amazing.”

  She shrugged. “I only made the salad.”

  “And it was a great salad.” He paused for a moment, sneaking a sideways glance at her before asking, “How have you been?”

  “Good,” she returned casually. “You?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. I just wanted to make sure that you were-”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Zeke,” she cut him off. “Can we just finish washing these dishes?”

  There was another long moment with only the sound of clinking dishes and running water punctuating the uncomfortable silence, then he said, “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t say anything to that, so he asked, “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard you.” She didn’t lift her gaze from the dish in her hand. Scrubbing it vigorously, she asked, “Have you noticed how much we apologize to each other? There is no way that is healthy.”

  A hint of amusement in his voice, Zeke asked, “What would be a healthy number of apologies?”

  “Dunno.” She handed him the sudsy plate. “But we step on each other’s toes way too much.”

  He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but before he could Shakira stuck her head around the door. “London, Nathan and I are headed home? You want a ride.”

  “I can take her home,” Zeke answered before London could.

  “Thanks for the offer, but no,” London said calmly, peeling off her gloves. “They’re closer to my place.”

  And they were safer too. No dangerous emotions there.

  Zeke shot London a horrified look. “So you’re just leaving me with this pile of dishes?”

  That drew a reluctant smile from her. “Consider that your penance for pissing me off.” She brushed her palm over his back, before saying, “Bye, Zekey.”

  “Bye.” He waved her off with a half-smile.

  She’d done it, London gave herself a mental pat on the back as Nathan and Shakira dropped her off at home. She’d managed to be alone with Zeke in a room without kissing him - or worse sleeping with him. She could do this. Humming a happy tune under her breath, she fit her key into her apartment’s door lock. Her happiness was short-lived. The moment she opened the door, her mood plunged because there Enzo was, sprawled out on her couch like he owned the place.

  London didn’t even bother greeting him. She thrust the door wide open and pointed. “Out. Now.”

  Enzo started, “Lon-”

  “I’m not doing this with you, right now,” she cut him off. “Out.”

  He studied her with an annoyed expression for a long moment before lifting to his feet then wandering towards the door. He passed her, mumbling under his breath, “If I knew you were going to be such a bitch about-”

  She slammed the door on the rest of his words. He could go tell them to someone who cared.

  “Did you just kick Enzo out?” Farah emerged from the general direction of the kitchen, her face the picture of horror.

  “And if you say his name again, I will kick you out too,” London threatened as she kicked off her shoes.

  That shut Farah up quickly enough.

  LONDON PROBABLY WOULD’VE done much worse than kick Enzo out if she knew who he met with just a few minutes after he left her apartment.

  “Well?” Edya Landa-Hollis watched the young man with expressionless eyes. “How is it going?”

  “I need a little more time.” Enzo shifted uncomfortably on the opposite side of the limo. “London can be stubborn. But I’m sure she’ll give in soon.”

  “No, she won’t.” Edya smiled, but the smile was as wintery as her tone. “And I don’t have the time or patience to watch you keep failing. So this is where we part, Mr. Norell.”

  “Just give me a…”

  “Thank you for your services,” she cut into his words. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have more important places to be.”

  And as if on her cue, the door closest to Enzo opened.

  “Mrs. Landa-Hollis, please,” Enzo pleaded. “Give me some time.”

  Edya hated incompetence, but she loathed wheedling even more. She wasn’t even paying this young man much and he was ready to get down and lick her pumps. Revolting! Her gaze sweeping past Enzo to the open door, she called out, “Theodore, please show Mr. Norell out.”

  With one grab, the chauffeur yanked Enzo out of the limousine and dumped hi
m on the sidewalk. Soon, Edya was on her way back home.

  Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. This situation was headache-inducing. If she’d known getting Zeke to the altar would be so hard, she would’ve started pushing years ago when he was more malleable, and certainly before that girl London came into their life. Now, she had to get rid of London, and get Zeke married to someone of her choice? Talk about tiring.

  Aah! Edya sighed. The things mothers went through for their sons.

  CHAPTER 18

  Three days!

  London stuck to her resolution to avoid being alone with Zeke for three days only before she succumbed to temptation. To be fair, she tried to be strong. If he hadn’t come looking for her and she wasn’t so addicted to his book, she probably would’ve lasted longer.

  “I’ve got a few new chapters, if you’re interested,” Zeke said when he found her in the backroom on Tuesday evening.

  Of course, she was interested. But according to her plan being in his apartment was a no-no. So she said, “Do you think I could take it home with me? Just for tonight?”

  “We have an agreement, London.” His lips curved in the slightest of smiles. “The book doesn’t leave my apartment.”

  “But I won’t show anyone,” she pleaded. “Don’t you trust me?”

  He laughed. “Not that much.”

  Her instincts told her to just let the book go. But he’d left the last chapter on a cliff-hanger – literally. In it, Rita’s father and his posse were dangling Gil off a balcony by his feet, threatening to drop him if he didn’t tell them where Timmy was. She really, really, really needed to know what was going to happen next.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll be there after the show.”

  “Don’t pretend like you’re not excited inside.” Zeke laughed and chucked her chin.

  “Bastard.” She slapped his hand away even as a reluctant smile tagged at her lips. Leaving him in the backroom, she joined the rest of her band on stage.

  “What did he want?” Enzo confronted her by the piano, shooting a glare towards the door where Zeke had just emerged.

  London didn’t bother answering. Enzo had been such a pain in her ass the last few days with his constant texts and calls that she was way past being civil with him. The kid-gloves were officially off. He’d said he wasn’t interested in being friends with her and he was about to find out exactly how that felt.

  She instead turned to Said. “Are we ready to start?”

  “Yeah!” And he started drumming.

  The show was flawless – as usual. When they wrapped up six hours later their audience seemed reluctant to leave – which was a good thing. Having an audience who were thirsty for more of you was almost as good as getting a Grammy. With a smile, London wished them all a goodnight.

  Unfortunately, the moment she got backstage, Enzo pricked that happy bubble with his, “Can I give you a ride home?”

  “No. Thanks,” she said curtly. “I can find my own way home.”

  Suspicion dripping from his voice, he asked, “Are you sure you’re even on your way home?”

  Did he know about her and Zeke? Immediate anxiety shot through London. But she managed to keep her voice steady as she retorted, “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. But it still ain’t none of your business.” Hiking her satchel-bag up her shoulder, she said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

  “London,” Enzo cut her off. He tried to grab her arm, but she snatched it backwards before he could.

  “Don’t.”

  “Look, look, listen. I know I’ve messed up.” His hand rose as if to stroke her cheek, but she pulled back her head. Leveling sad eyes at her, he added, “But it’s only because I love-”

  “I don’t know how many times I have to say this. You and I?” She pointed to the two of them. “We’re not happening. So please - if you want us to keep getting along - stop it.”

  She started to walk away. But he followed her with, “London, please-”

  “No. No. Stop,” she cut him off with raised arms. “Seriously, Enzo, stop. Leave me alone. Leave. Me. Alone.”

  This time he let her leave in peace. But his ambush was enough to destroy her mood. She was so pissed off that the moment she stepped out of the elevator Zeke noticed.

  “What’s wrong?” His face creased with concern.

  “Nothing.” She dumped her tote-bag on the floor, shrugged off her jacket and yanked off her uggs. In a few strides, she slumped onto the couch next to him. “Where’s the book?”

  “Later.” He scooted closer to her and circled an arm around her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  Being this close to him was a bad, bad idea, but she was feeling vulnerable. She set her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes and sighed. “He’s just so irritating.”

  “Who’s irritating?” He ran his fingers along her bare arm, his touch leaving delightful tingles on her skin.

  “Enzo! Ever since I went to that concert with him he’s been…” She summarized for Zeke everything that had been going on since then. Including the tantrum at the roof of their complex, the constant calls and messages, dropping in at her apartment unannounced… “I just don’t know how to make him stop.”

  To his credit Zeke didn’t remind her of how many times he’d told her to be firmer with Enzo. Instead, he offered, “Let me talk to him.”

  “No.” London shook her head. “That will make everything worse. And it will make him suspicious about you and me.”

  “I don’t really care what he’s suspicious about.” Zeke’s eyes glinted with unrestrained anger. “I just want him to leave you alone.”

  “You and me both.” London sighed as she cuddled even closer to him.

  After a long moment of silence, Zeke asked, “How did you and this guy even become so close? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person you’d be friends with.”

  “He’s the one who brought me to Miss Wendy’s house.” She closed her eyes as she reminisced, “When I left New Orleans to come here, I was naïve enough to think that jobs were just being handed out on a platter. The truth is the only jobs for a fourteen year-old runaway around here were the kind that involved a pimp, selling drugs or picking pockets. I chose the latter.”

  Zeke’s eyes widened. “You were a pick-pocket?”

  “And a damn good one.” She smiled. “My street name was Pistol - cause I was as quick as a pistol.”

  He laughed. “So that’s where you got the name Pistol from? I was wondering if that was your real name.”

  “It is now.” She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him before confessing, “But it wasn’t always. I changed my name to London Pistol when I turned eighteen. My real name is so common any singer worth her salt would change it.”

  “What is it?” he asked, interest shining in his eyes.

  “I’m not telling you.” Seeing the glint in his eyes, she warned, “And if you go looking we’ll have problems, Hollis.”

  “Aw, come on. Tell me.” He squeezed her shoulders.

  “No.” Trying to change the conversation, she started, “Anyway, I wa-”

  “Tell me,” he cut in, obviously determined to find out. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he wheedled, “Come on, please.”

  “Fiiine.” She huffed an irritated breath before confessing, “Alex Harris. Happy now?”

  “Alex Harris.” He tested her ex-name on his tongue. The side of his lips tilting in a small smile, he said, “I like it.”

  “Uh. Uh.” She shook her head. “Trust me. You wouldn’t like it if you were named after your father who is a pimp and drug-dealer.”

  His eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened in obvious shock. “Your dad’s a pimp?”

  “Yup!” She set her head back on Zeke’s shoulder. “And my mum’s a hooker in his stable, plus his best coke customer.”

  “That’s why you left New Orleans,” Zeke said slowly. “To escape them?”

  She nodded. “I probably would’ve stayed longer if Alex ha
dn’t tried to pimp me out to one of his clients.”

  “Jesus!” Zeke’s shocked gasp reverberated between them.

  Back then, she’d been just as shocked as he was. Though she knew how flawed both her parents were, she’d assumed that she was somehow ‘special’ to them. Apparently, she wasn’t. Luckily, she’d been practically raising herself for so long that going out on her own didn’t seem like such a big step.

  She continued, “Anyway, I was doing quite well on my own the streets when Enzo caught me trying to get into his pockets. I thought he’d take me to the police for sure. Instead, he took me to Miss Wendy. And we’ve been friends ever since then. He was there for me when I didn’t even know I needed him.”

  There was a long silence, then Zeke asked, “What about your parents? Are they still alive?”

  “I think so.” She shrugged as she played with his fingers. “Last I heard, he was doing two to five at a local prison, and she’s still selling her body from crack.”

  That was enough to quiet Zeke.

  He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?” She looked up at him to find him watching her.

  “That you had to live such a hard life.” His gaze softened as he studied her. “No kid should have to live like that.”

  “I survived,” she said simply.

  “You shouldn’t have had to. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Then he cupped her cheek and lowered his head to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

  ZEKE DIDN’T MEAN for the kiss to be anything more than a soothing one. However, the moment he touched his lips to London’s lips heat flared alive within him. He tried to pull back but then she cupped the nape of his neck and deepened the kiss. After that all bets were off.

  He pulled her to him, urging her to straddle his lap and wind her arms around his shoulders, as he slanted his lips harder against hers.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her lips before nibbling on the bottom one. He pushed his tongue into her mouth to absorb her sweetness, and she met him eagerly. Having her this close was wreaking havoc on his senses. And her ardent response to his kiss - the way she matched each kiss he gave with an even deeper one - only made the fire burn hotter until it felt like he was being scorched from the inside.