by Liz K. Lorde
“Francorin ‘Fletch’ Brenaise,” I answer for him.
Leonardo nods his head and then drinks all of his whiskey in one go, shaking his head afterwards and voicing his displeasure. He drops his glass purposefully, and it explodes into a couple dozen shards, “They dropped us like I haven’t done a damn thing for them.” Leonardo reveals his teeth, upturning the one side of his lips and snarling low, looking away from me. “I’m going to hurt them, Con.”
I bring my gaze back up to Leo, and I polish off my glass, “Believe that’s my job. But the more the merrier.”
“You’re misunderstanding,” Leo responds. “They don’t care about pain,” he says, “they don’t care about their families, or their loved ones. These six only care about their bottom lines. And we’re going to pull the rug out from under them.” Leonardo pushes out a breath and he turns his head away for a second.
“What?” I ask, noting how bizarre that little tic was.
He doesn’t do anything for a moment, and I can feel my heart tapping in my chest with the slightest hint of nervousness. Why is he hiding something from me? A beat later and he looks back to me, “There’s one other problem with them. With you.”
I grab between my legs for effect, “Yeah, well, they come on to me. Shouldn’t be anything new.”
Leo cracks a smirk, “No. Not that. There was some guy that you ruffed up, not sure when, but the Brenaise? They were setting him up as a fall guy. He was going to eat a murder rap, and because it was an officer of the law… it’s not something they’re getting off of. Period.”
“Christ Leo,” I start, trying to think back on all the people I’ve stabbed, smacked, brawled with, or broken fingers in the recent past. “I barely remember the faces of the things I fuck, ya think I’m gonna remember this dudes name?”
“James Bermenskies.”
My jaw dips open and my brows rise. I turn my head to the side, “Shit.”
“Yeah. And a lot of it now,” Leo adds. “So you did a number on this tool?”
“Yes,” I answer curtly, “he was always having me come after him for something. But that night he, he beat one of our girls I think. I wasn’t sober.”
“What else is new.”
“So what happened to him? Last I recall he was napping in his own blood, but he wasn’t dead by my doing or nothing.”
“He skipped town,” Leo says, “skipped the country probably. Can’t be found. Now one of their own is eating that murder charge,” he shakes a finger at me, “I talked with Fletch over the phone, but you and I both know how this goes. He’s putting on a front. And they will look for a way to hurt you.”
“Horseshit.”
“It’s not, Con.”
“They’re going to start a war because I brought down the hammer on some piece of shit patsy? It’s not smart.”
“It’s not smart,” Leo agrees. “But it’s what they want. And with the Big Six behind them now, it’s a reason, no matter how thin, to stoke the flames of war. They’re tired of being number two.”
I feel a surge of heat move through me, and I shake my head, “We earned this. Your father worked every hour of his life to get us all here.”
“I know,” Leo murmurs with melancholy, “but they don’t respect us. They respected him. Now they’re going to swing for the fences, so I’m warning you. Watch. Your. Back.”
“Heard,” I say, and then thrust two fingers at Leo, “now you make sure you tell ‘em. They come at me, they best not miss. Don’t take kindly to that level of unprofessionalism.”
Leonardo smirks and laughs, “I understand. Your team ready to go for the gig? I’m gonna make a lot of noise for you, you know.”
“Absolutely. You be the bait, and we’ll be the hammer.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Leonardo says, and I can see the glint of greed and ambition in his eye.
CHAPTER 13
VIVIAN
THE BABY HADN’T BEEN A PROBLEM at all today, In fact, she seemed happy for some reason. After putting her to sleep, I make my way into the kitchen and search through the pantry for some snacks since I’m starving.
Right as I bring my hand up to the black handle of the cupboards above me, I hear the sound of the front door being unlocked. I turn my head to look at the noise, and my stomach grumbles with great displeasure.
Inconvenient timing.
Walking over to the front door, I call out, “Connifer?”
The door opens and Connifer walks through with those big, broad shoulders that make my heart melt. He looks at me with hungry eyes, eyes that look like they’ve been starved for something for an eternity – and I as the way to sate that insatiable hunger.
I’ve never been looked at like that before, and it sends fiery signals all throughout my body. I can feel my pussy clenching with excitement, and my heart fluttering with sweet anticipation.
He has me pinioned where I stand, frozen just by that desiring look on his face.
Connifer closes the distance between us, and right as he moves to me, he puts his hands on my hips and he picks me up effortlessly. He pulls me in against him, and I wrap my legs automatically around his person, feeling the tautness of his ripped muscles. Our lips come together in an animalistic embrace. This kiss tells me truths that I’ve never since discovered; it tells me that even being away for a brief time is somehow too long, no matter how twisted that desire must be for a person that I hardly know.
Tells me that this is something that I should hold a great deal of fear for.
Nobody should have this much power over me.
His lips crash against mine, and he sucks me and he slips his tongue inside of my mouth. It’s silky smooth, but he forces it along my mouth, and he commands me with such ease. Every part of my body is lighting up just by embracing him; feeling him like this makes me never want to be without him, and I know that’s not right. How could it be? How could it be right to want someone like air or water.
He finally breaks the kiss and places me back on the ground, still holding onto my waist with his big strong hands and looking at me with those intense lake blue eyes. “I was thinking about that the whole time I was gone,” he admits in that husky, panting melting voice that could make me cum with just the slightest bit of his salacious encouraging.
I bring my hands down to his ass and grab him hard, feeling the firmness of his butt against my fingers – loving the way he feels against my touch, loving the way that I know he’s getting hard just from kissing me.
From the way he’s been thinking of me all this time.
“Don’t think that we’re not going to talk,” I whisper, my voice heavy with raw, sexual need. Just looking at his mountain of a chest, of which I felt the need to scale personally every time that I saw him, that was enough to make my entire person wind up with infectious desire.
“If it means I get to have you,” he growls, inching closer to me and looking down into my eyes, “then we’ll talk. How’s Morgana?”
“Sleeping soundly.”
Connifer wags his head towards the master bedroom, “Let’s go.” He picks me up immediately afterward and carries me in his arms, taking us to the bedroom and plopping me down on to the bed.
He sheds his purple coat and reveals his dark blue and stylish button-up shirt. The sleeves of that shirt are rolled up to his elbow, giving me a wonderful look of his forearms. “Tell me what you want to know, sweetheart,” Connifer’s wearing blue slacks that are so dark they’re almost black, and he puts a knee on the bed, climbing on to it.
“Everything.”
“Everything’s a lot to go over,” he explains, slowly approaching me on the bed with those eyes that look like they wish to devour me whole.
“I’ve got time.”
“Really?” He asks, getting on top of me and pressing me against the bed with his mere presence. “You might have a hard time focusing while I’m fucking you into complete submission.”
Delightful tightness grips at my chest, and my eyes di
p down to those perfect blade-like lips. “I’m a very good listener when the subject at hand…” I bring my hand down to Connifer’s crotch and feel how raging hard is he for my body; our lips come together briefly in a teasing, warming kiss. “…Is interesting to me.”
“Good,” he says. But even though he’s burning up my body with just those simples acts, I have this worrisome need to know what happened while he was gone.
“Can we do this later?” I ask, “I mean… I really want to.”
His eyes tell me that he’s hungry for this pussy. “Why?”
“Because I’m,” I look down and away from him, “I’m still sore,” I admit. “And I really want to know what happened while you were gone.”
Connifer looks like he can only barely accept the fact that he can’t fuck me right this second. “Later,” he says, “and you’re mine again tonight. Twice.”
I gulp, “As long as you take it easier than you did last time.” I slide next to him on the bed, trying to get some physical closeness, or cuddles. But he doesn’t seem so keen on reciprocating closeness outside of the bedroom, at least not consistently. “So… what happened?”
Again seems not so keen on reciprocating affections, and for some reason this makes me uncomfortable, even though we’re not exactly defined. But he slings an arm around me after a moment. “I went out and talked with the big boss, nothing too unusual.”
“What about?”
“It’s not something that I can exactly discuss,” he says.
“Well, give me something to work with here, at least.”
Connifer pushes out a breath, “There’s a rival family. They’re… unhappy with us over something, but it’s nothing that we can’t handle. Supposedly something that I did personally, it didn’t sit well with them. Course, most of the work I do to people is… upsetting.”
“Does that mean,” I swallow, “that they’re going to come after you personally?”
Connifer smirks, “If they’ve a death wish, who am I to turn them down?”
The hairs on my body bristle, “You speak so casually of it,” it concerns me what’s going on with him. Concerns me for my own safety, for the baby’s safety – but even stranger, for the man himself’s safety.
“Threats are cheap,” Connifer announces, “action is what really costs. I’m used to it. Leo’s used to it. If they’re stupid enough to go beyond a simple threat, that’s their prerogative.”
Something invisible and hot brushes against my heart, “But you’re going to be okay, right?”
Connifer’s face tightens into serious lines, “Yeah,” he says, nodding his head, “yeah I’m going to be okay. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he pulls me in closer against his person, and moves in to place a kiss on my lips. A moment later and he pulls back, “now you have to tell me about you. People don’t just end up here for no reason.”
“How’re you sure I wasn’t born here.”
“I can tell,” he says smugly.
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re not a total bitch,” he explains.
“Ah,” I respond, “wait. So you’re saying that I’m… some of a bitch?”
“Now you’re twistin’ my words.”
I smile at him and put my leg on his thigh, feeling his taut muscle and hair, “I can twist something else, rather unpleasantly too under the right circumstances.”
“Mercy,” he begs.
“I ran away from home,” I blurt.
Connifer tilts his head curious, “Why?”
“I just got fed up with going nowhere,” I tell him, and it’s like my body moves away from itself as I speak. “I was ungrateful,” I admit, “I was stupid and foolish and I didn’t like who I was. Maybe I still don’t like who I am even now,” I continue, taking in a breath, trying my hardest not to feel the pain of thinking about my dad and how I left him that day. Even if the circumstances weren’t exactly ideal. “I was tired of not knowing what happened to my mother, and I was exhausted from my father drinking to cope with everything. I’m surprised that I didn’t turn to it.”
“To drinking?” He asks with genuine concern.
“Yes,” I reply, and then I remember the incident at work, and how I’d stupidly caused all of this shit to happen in the first place. That’s when the knives of guilt come out, and they stab me repeatedly. Over and over they enter me, sliding inside and filling me with biting warmth. “I embarrassed myself at work, too. I was jealous, I get that now. I understand that now,” I can feel something wet form behind my eyes, “this girl she wasn’t my friend at the time exactly, but she had been when we were younger. She had… she had a beautiful voice, and everyone just seemed to love her. But whenever I did anything bad—whenever I did something wrong—it was like the whole world was always watching me; I could feel the weight of everyone looking.” I push out an unsteady breath, and I find myself just wanting to sink away into forever.
“I told my dad that I was going to off myself and I haven’t spoken to him since.”
“How long has it been?” Connifer asks in the most friendly, nonjudgmental tone that I could ever imagine.
“Too long,” I confess.
“You should call him,” he suggests, “call him and tell him that you’re okay. Not that I know what it’s like to be a father,” he turns his head then, and he looks over to the room that the baby is sleeping in. Maybe a part of him wants to be one. Maybe he’d be great as a father, I could see it in him. Definitely.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I confide.
“Well,” Connifer starts, and brings his head back to look at me, “you better get ready. Forgiveness isn’t something that waits around. Most of the time, it slips away.”
“You’re right,” I agree, but I came here for a reason. And it wasn’t to meet this man, no matter how much life seems to be telling me otherwise. I don’t want to ask him for help in finding my mom; because I don’t want to make it seem like I’m using him for his money or his resources. I want to do this on my own.
I have to.
“What got you into…”
“The Life?” Connifer answers for me and smiles, making my heart melt inside of my chest.
“Yeah,” I say with a goofy little laugh, brushing back some of my black strands of hair.
“Long story, too boring,” he claims with that same smile, showing me all of his white teeth. He leans his head in closer to me, and for a moment I wonder if he’s going in for another kiss. “Instead of that, I could just—“ he snaps his fingers, “put you under my spell.”
I think you’ve already done that. “No,” I tell him, “that can wait. Besides, I don’t even think that it will work.”
“If it doesn’t work,” he raises his brows and wiggles his head, “then I’ll be your personal slave for a whole weekend.” His face becomes grave and very serious then, “of course, you wouldn’t be allowed. To tell. Anyone.”
“No way. You wouldn’t let me do something like that,” I briefly consider all of the various uses I could have for making him my errand boy.
Or my mafia sex slave.
“Oh no, I will,” he says all coy, clearly something is up. “But if I win—“
“If you win.”
“—If I win. If it does work, then I get to flog your ass until it turns nice and pink,” he says, and suddenly I can feel a rush of heat moving up to my face. “Just like your cheeks are doing right now.”
“They are not!” I pointlessly insist. “Fine, I’ll do it. But only if you tell me more about your life. You can’t be so secretive forever.”
Connifer dips his head down and to the side, “Alright, but you can’t say that I didn’t warn you. Picture if ya can the slums of Dublin. It’s damp and there’s beggars on the streets. The hungry looking for something to put in their bellies. That was a feeling me and my sister were very familiar with.”
“You’ve a sister?”
He gives me a wry look. “I’m getting there so listen
more and ask less. Anyway, my father was a man just like anyone else. Had his faults. Liked to gamble away the meager earnings that he made from building ships; I’ll give him that and only that, ships he could build.” Connifer clears his throat, “so my father would take his earnings and he’d bet them all away. Doesn’t matter if he was sober or drunk, he’d win and win some more until he lost it all. Liked to bet on hounds, but never got into breeding them. Well one night in Winter, when he couldn’t find the money that I’d stashed away from working on the docks – when I wouldn’t let him beat it out of me – he’d decided that enough was enough. Started to default on his debts.”
I lean in a little closer as Connifer continues: “Now this was bad as you can imagine. Started with bruises, ended up with broken fingers. But the real trouble with him started when he got in bed with the IRA. You heard of them?”
I shake my head no.
“Real nasty men, people that you don’t want to be involved with. When my father owed them assets, he got scared. You know what it feels like to wake up in the middle of the night against the cold hard floor to the sound of you and your sister’s door being kicked in? I was thirteen at the time and I nearly pissed myself from the shock of it. It was the loudest thing that I’d ever heard, and hell, if I think back on it I can still hear the way that the hinges exploded from the force.” There’s an anger in his eyes now, and a sadness too, I think. “My heart was racing and Phedre couldn’t help but scream. Four big men rushed into our room with balaclava, which is like a black ski mask. Two of ‘em had old war rifles that I couldn’t distinguish in the dark, and the other two men they came at us before I could even scramble to my feet.” He stops for a moment and closes his eyes briefly. “I’ve only ever told this to one person before, by the way. When I saw them take my sister, I just lost it. I screamed and I cried until the snot dripped down my face. Tried to hit them or get away, begged them just to take me – because she was my sister. I begged them, Viv. They took us both away, stuffed us in a real beater of a car that smelled like piss and gasoline.”
