by B. B. Hamel
I would’ve liked him if we weren’t enemies.
“You’re upsetting the balance of power. You know how this ends. We come together and knock you down a peg, then things go back to normal. Why not avoid all the drama?”
“Like I said, I have my reasons.”
“If this is revenge for your father, I’ve told you before, we can arrange something.”
“Will you give me Oisin?”
“No. That isn’t an option.”
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
Darren sighed, spread his hands out. “I’m trying to be peaceful about this, Roman. You always default to killing, but there are other ways to solve a problem.”
“Maybe for you.”
“God, so dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Seriously?”
I didn’t move. Sweat dripped down my body. I could taste the tension in the air. Darren wanted me out of the way so he could continue to bankroll the MacKenna family and allow them to spread out across the United States. He’d always had the weakest link with the crime families, though he was embedded with the banks—which could be more dangerous.
I still couldn’t bend for him, not yet. I might make peace with him once Oison was dead, but I couldn’t let him know that. I wanted my revenge and wanted it on my terms. I knew he’d never agree to give me Oisin straight out, and asking provided me with cover. I could pretend like I’d tried to keep things civil from the start.
“I’m not going to stop my plans and you’re not going to give me what I want. Maybe this meeting is a waste of time.”
“The others will get annoyed sooner or later. Do you want it to come to that?”
“You can go whining to them.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He stepped forward, but I noted he held his hands in sight, clearly visible.
Smart. He made sure nobody took him as a threat.
“I’m aware of that.”
“The country’s been in flux for years, but we’ve kept things stable. Now you’re involved with three families instead of one, and that puts everything at risk. Have some sense, Roman. Stop this before it goes too far.”
“I won’t.”
Darren nodded and let out a sigh like that was what he expected. “All right then. I came here in good faith. I do want things to remain calm, but you seem hell bent on war.”
“I’m hell bent on revenge.” I tightened my fists and looked away from him, up toward the bridge. “You can’t understand what it’s been like for me, knowing that Oisin’s still out there, the man that ordered the death of my father. And I never even loved that old bastard.”
“We’ve all got daddy issues. At least mine won’t spark a coast-wide mafia war.” He shoved his hands into his pockets again. “Just think about what I said. We all want business to continue as usual. If you keep going down this path, I’m afraid everything’s about to change.”
“Is change such a bad thing? Are you so afraid of it?”
Darren only shook his head as if disappointed and walked off. He stepped into the trees and disappeared into the gloom of the underbrush. I waited until I couldn’t see him anymore, then waited a few more minutes before I ran again.
Through the tunnel, out the other side.
He wasn’t wrong. That was the thing—I agreed with him. Everything I’d done so far was a threat to the order of things. The others would step in eventually, when the violence got too bad, or I took too much power. That was how we functioned, how it always worked.
If one of us got too strong, the others came together to knock them back down into place.
The cycle went like that for generations.
Only this time, I didn’t give a damn what the others wanted. I didn’t care if Darren was angry.
I wanted my revenge and I was going to have it.
Afterwards, when Oisin was dead and the world understood that they couldn’t fuck with the Lenkov family ever again, only then would I sit down at the table and negotiate.
But not before.
Erick whistled nearby. I ran down a side path and found him sitting on a bench, dismantling a sniper rifle.
“How’d that go?” he asked. “Darren looked twitchy. Nervous.”
“He’s not happy with the way things are.”
“Can’t blame him.” Erick placed the rifle pieces into a hard case. “Think the others are going to roll down on you?”
“They might. I can’t be sure. I assume you have your ear to the ground.”
“I’ve got men in every one of their organizations, and so far, it’s quiet. Nobody’s talking about you.”
“They might not care if I control a couple more mafia families, or maybe they think I won’t be able to keep power over all of them.”
“Not like you care, right?”
“That’s right.”
He stood up and shouldered the case. “Something feels off about all this.”
“What’s that?”
“Darren came alone.”
My eyebrows went up. “Really?”
“Really. This place is crawling with our guys, but Darren didn’t bring anyone. Why the hell would he do that?”
“I don’t know.” I gazed back out into the woods, trying to make sense of it. Darren knew I’d have my own little army occupying the park—why wouldn’t he bring his own? “Have him followed if you can.”
“Already on it.”
“Good. He’ll be a problem. We only have to hope he doesn’t try anything until after Oisin is dead.”
“We’ll see. He seems to give a shit about the old man.”
“Loyalty, I expect.” I nodded to Erick. “I’m going to finish my run and head back to the apartment.”
“Enjoy.” Erick saluted and walked off.
I watched him leave then fell into a slow jog, my mind whirling through the possibilities.
21
Cassie
I woke up to an empty bed, stretched out, groaned, and stared at the ceiling.
The night before returned in flashes.
His hand on my ass. His lips locked tight on my nipple. Biting his shoulder, digging my claws into his back.
His cock between my legs and the orgasms flowing past like a river, rolling from one to the next in an endless procession of bliss, a trumpet-blast of ecstasy, a sustained note of perfection.
And all throughout, his hands pinning me down, spanking me, hurting me just enough to make the pleasure scream from my raw throat even louder.
God what was wrong with me? How did I end up here?
Married to a perfect monster.
I climbed out of bed and showered. I wanted to regain at least some of my dignity. Last night was a blur, though there was proof of it all over my skin: bruises on my ass, on my arms, on my thighs.
On my throat
I sighed and touched them, staring at myself in the mirror.
Roman’s lips pressed against my scar. The loving way he caressed my body.
Did he mean it about my flaws? Did he really think it made me more attractive?
I only remembered my father calling me damaged. Sneering at me like what happened was my fault.
As if I wanted to get assaulted.
I pulled on a robe and slipped back into my room. I got dressed in jeans and a black top with a latticework of straps across my chest. There was a bruise in the shape of his teeth on my right breast, and it was only barely covered. I smiled, touched it gently.
I wanted to show it off. That made me sick, didn’t it?
A knock at my door. “Come in.”
Roza looked inside. “Oh good, you’re dressed already. He said you’d be in his room. I was worried I’d find something inappropriate.”
I blushed a deep crimson. An eight, at least.
“Nothing like that.”
“Right, sure, totally, I get you. I’m just saying, Roman is an attractive man. You’re single, he’s single—“ She stopped then grinned at me. “Well actually, you’re both m
arried, but to each other. So that works out.”
“Roza.”
“Okay, not my business.” She leaned against the doorframe. “Only saying, I think you should go for it. If you want to, anyway.”
“You think I should have sex with your boss, who is also the man that basically kidnapped me and tricked me into marrying him? Is that about right?”
“Pretty much. Although he didn’t kidnap you.”
“Okay fine, but you get my point.”
“Loud and clear.” She smiled brightly. “I still think you should fuck like rabbits. He hasn’t been with anyone in a while, you know.”
I hesitated, glanced at myself in the mirror. “Really?”
“Really. It’s weird. He was on a total dry spell for months and then bang, here you are.”
I tugged at my hair, frowning. Roman had plenty of women—that was obvious, based on the way he pleased me and knew what he wanted—but it hadn’t occurred to me that I might be something… special.
Something different.
“That’s good to know.”
“I bet it is.” I looked over and she was grinning at me. “Anyway, come on, he’s waiting. I hear you two have a very busy morning.”
“I guess we do.” I tugged at my shirt, straightened it, wondered if I should change.
I hadn’t seen my father in three years. Maybe showing off a bruise on my breast was a bad idea.
But no, fuck him. He wouldn’t notice, and I didn’t care either way.
He thought I was a broken piece of trash, so I might as well give him what he wanted.
Roza led me into the main room. Roman was waiting near the elevator in a simple pair of dark slacks and a white shirt that molded to his body. He nodded at me and his gaze fell to my chest, and my heart skipped a slight beat when he licked his lips. He was staring at the bruise—I knew he’d notice—
“Thank you for bringing my wife.” Roman didn’t look away from me.
“Anything else I can do, boss? Or are you going to stand here and stare at Cassie like she’s a wedding cake?”
“That’ll be all.” He glared at Roza. “I’d order you to respect boundaries, but we both know that won’t happen.”
“One of these days we’ll get there. Just keep trying.” She squeezed my hand then walked off.
Roman sighed, hit the elevator button.
I stepped up next to him, standing close.
“You were gone this morning,” I mumbled.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me there.”
“I wasn’t sure either.”
“What do you think? Would it have been nice to find my arms wrapped around your body?”
“Probably not. It would’ve led to something else. We both know you’re not exactly a paragon of self-control.”
“I can deny myself pleasure if I want to. Only I don’t want to with you.”
We stepped onto the elevator and rode it down in a thick, tense silence.
My conflicted feelings rushed back. I was still angry to find myself trapped in a marriage I never asked for, used in a plan that was so far beyond anything I understand, locked away with a man that might be a psychopath, and yet none of that seemed to matter, because the moment he looked at me I felt my stomach twist and my nipple stiffen and my pussy drip down into my panties.
Because I knew what he could do to me if I let him.
And god, I wanted to let him.
I struggled to banish all thoughts from my mind as we walked outside. Roman’s motorcycle was parked by the curb and one of his men stood beside it. Roman put on his helmet and I pulled on mine, then climbed onto the back. We rode out into traffic.
I leaned against him again. This time, I didn’t hold back. I touched his stomach, his chest, and even let my hand drift down to his thigh. I wanted to mess with him, tease him—and maybe we’d die in the process.
But what a way to go.
I felt his cock stiffen as he drove faster, almost recklessly fast, weaving in and out of traffic. He dodged a pedestrian as I squeezed his tip then stroked his shaft, and I felt something humming, maybe the bike, maybe his body, I didn’t know.
I had no clue where he was taking me, and I didn’t care.
The bike zipped between cars then rolled to a stop in a quiet neighborhood. He killed the engine and I pulled my hands back, grinning to myself as I hopped off the bike and took off my helmet. I shook my hair out and raised an eyebrow at him.
He stayed seated for several long moments, helmet hiding his expression.
I could only imagine the rage and desire in his eyes.
“Are you coming, husband? Oh, sorry, I meant, are you getting off the bike anytime soon?”
He grunted and stood up, removed the helmet, and shoved the key into his pocket.
“You’ll get us killed doing shit like that.”
“Oh, I have full faith in your driving abilities.”
He moved to walk past me then stopped and cupped my chin, looking into my eyes with that molten stare. “You really shouldn’t.”
His tongue was like heaven, his lips like the pearly gates. I sneered at him, happy to have a little bit of control back.
He let me go then strode toward a small green door with the words The Smuggler’s Bay painted above it.
The interior was dim and smelled like beer. The floors were sticky and everything was covered in wood molding, but it was a decent looking Irish pub, with a long bar and stools on the left and tiny cramped booths on the right and Irish-themed art along the walls. There was nobody else in the place and half the chairs were left upside down on the tables, and I was going to ask if he got the wrong address until we moved further into the back and I saw him.
My father with a pint of Guinness on the table and a scowl on his lips.
I stopped in my tracks. Roman continued on.
Dad looked like he had the day I left. It’d only been three years and I didn’t know what I expected, but something stabbed at me, seeing him like that, as if no time had passed at all. Slick dark hair, graying in the front, a severe, thin face, short nose, pursed lips like the room didn’t quite meet his standards. He was skinny and pale and angry, and I remembered that rage, whip-sharp and unrelenting.
He didn’t hit me. Didn’t beat me. Didn’t shout at me.
But if I stepped a toe out of line, if I got a bad grade or talked back, he punished me, and my punishments could be severe. Three weeks locked in my room for leaving the dishes dirty. A month with nothing but bread and water for calling him too strict.
I worked so hard to get away from this man. I never wanted to feel like this again—so small, so worthless.
But as soon as he looked in my direction, I was a little girl all over again.
Roman realized I wasn’t with him and glanced back. I couldn’t move, couldn’t do this. I wanted to turn and run.
He turned to me, took my hand in his own, and leaned forward. He kissed my cheek. “Be strong,” he whispered, “and breathe.”
I nodded and took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
We approached the table and Dad smiled.
“Cassie. It’s good to see you again.”
“Hi, Dad.”
Roman stepped forward, putting himself between me and my dad. “Thank you for meeting with me, Eamon.”
Dad looked at Roman and there was a hint of fear in his expression. I’d never seen that from him before. “When a man like yourself requests a discussion, a man like me doesn’t say no.”
“That’s good. May we sit?”
“Please.”
Roman pulled a chair out for me. I sat and looked at the floor, avoiding my dad’s gaze. Roman sat and leaned forward on his elbows, commanding my father’s attention.
“Do you know why I’m here?”
“I have some guesses, but I’d rather hear from you.”
Roman tapped his finger on the table. “How much do you know about your daughter’s life since she left Boston?”
“She lives above a girl named Winter. I believe they’re best friends. Her landlord’s name is June, a batty old lady, wanted to kick them out many times over the years, but was amenable when I told her very firmly that it wasn’t an option. She works at several bars, especially one with a Lobster in the name. Keeps to herself. Rides her bike.”
I leaned back, stunned.
I hadn’t spoken a word to him, and yet he knew all that.
Worse, he meddled in my affairs.
“Thank you for confirming,” Roman said and covered one of my hands with his own. It was comforting and protective all at once, and it kept my heart under control.
My breath was ragged. I worked on getting that even and smooth.
Dad never let me alone. Roman hadn’t lied.
He’d been watching me this whole time.
I wanted to scream.
Why would he do that, when he made it so clear that he didn’t give a damn about me back home?
If he wanted to be in my life, he never should’ve acted like I was ruined.
He made that choice, not me.
And yet he never left me alone. He was watching out for me.
The realization made my stomach twist with nausea.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Lenkov, I want to know why you brought me down from Boston for this.”
“Call me Roman.”
“Okay, Roman. You know who I am, and you know that I’ve been involved in my daughter’s life from a distance, but I still don’t know what you have to do with any of this.”
“I met Cassie at a party over a month ago. Since then, we’ve been seeing each other in secret.”
Dad’s eyebrows raised. “Seeing each other? I would’ve heard that. I knew she left with you—“
“Do you really think you would’ve known?” Roman spoke quietly, intensely. His fingers tightened on my hand.
Dad glanced at me and paled. “I suppose not.”
“Your daughter and I are married. We made it official several days ago, and I’m here to ask for your blessing.”
Dad rocked back in his chair and his mouth fell open.
I’d never seen him surprised before.
I wished Roman would kick him in the teeth.
“Married?”
“I’m here to ask for your blessing, and to request that you and Oisin both attend the ceremony. We’re having a wedding, Eamon.”
