“Are you okay,” she asked a moment later, still riding me, still forcing her body down my hard length.
Her question shook through some of the fog and the lust to gentle my fingers on her hips. “Fine,” I push out. “Fine.”
Her nails catch my neck, and our situation sparks crystal clear. I drag her down, trapping her hips tight so she couldn’t move.
“What?” She panted. “What is it?”
“We have to stop. Now.”
She blinked at me, mouth goggling open. “Huh?”
“I’m not wearing a condom.” As much as I enjoyed the bare slide of her body on mine, we had yet to discuss our mutual feelings on reproduction. And I didn’t want that decision made for us.
“I don’t want to stop,” she said, and wriggled her hips for emphasis. She felt so good like this. Hot and dreamy and soaking wet on my cock. Fuck. My decision making skills were not at peak with her wrapped around me.
“Don’t test me,” I ground out. She shifted her hips again, and I dug my fingertips into her skin, trying to keep myself still, and her from breaking free of my clutch.
“It feels good,” she whispered. “We’re married now. We can have sex without condoms. You can pull out.” She edged up a fraction of an inch. Then huffed when I didn’t join her. “You’re a God damn criminal. Please do not preach about safe sex while you screw me in the back of your car.”
She shoved back down, and I groaned. Lady had a point. I let go of her hips, despite my reservations, and let her ride me until she started to falter. Then I took control and dragged her down to meet my body as she rode out her orgasm. When she sagged in my arms, I let her go and stuttered through my own inhales and exhales. Taking my time focusing on each rocking breath as it escaped my body. My cock still hard, I didn’t come. I gave her what she wanted, with less risk. She shifted onto the other seat, and the second she cleared my lap, I grabbed my cock, still slick from her orgasm and jerked myself off.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I repeated as come poured down my hand, onto my pants.
Kat grabbed a towel from the back of the seat and tossed it toward me. I cleaned myself up best I could and stripped out of everything except my underwear and t-shirt.
“Are you going to walk inside naked?”
I shrugged. “Nothing they haven’t seen before. Besides, it’s my house.”
“Do you do this often?” she asked, a smile curling her lips.
“For you, I might.” The car pulled up outside our house and I pointed toward the door. “Now get out. We need to talk.”
Ten
Katherine
Pierce followed me into the house. I adjusted my own clothing as I walked, but I stopped short inside the door. Ten of Pierce’s crew milled around, shuffling papers, talking on phones.
My husband closed the door and tossed his clothes in a pile on the floor. I could only offer an…“Uh…”
“What?” he asked.
I held up my hands, hoping they explained why I stood there gawking. “This is not a military operations center. If it were, I’d have much hotter men to look at.”
“Hey,” came a disgruntled shout from the corner of the dining room.
Pierce grasped my upper arm and gently propelled me into the thankfully empty kitchen. In a rough whisper, he said, “We need to ascertain if the attack came from my side or yours?”
I yanked from his tightened grip. My short fuse inches from ignition. “What do you mean my side?” I asked, careful and slow.
“We need to know if the attack came from one of the families, or if outside of it all. That’s what the crew is doing now.”
The ground shifted slightly underneath me, and I caught myself on the edge of the counter. Suddenly, I felt woefully out of my depth here. I’d only ever dealt with a physical attack once, and my job involved laying in a hospital bed while I pressed a morphine administration button. “Should I call people, do something?”
He scanned my face and traced the edges of my lips with his thumbs. “If you want to call someone, you can. Otherwise, I’ve got this.”
I reached up to cup his fingers in mine, but he pulled away and put the length of the kitchen between us. “I think it’s time we both lay our cards on the table. I trust you, Kat. Do you trust me?”
I’d always been aware we didn’t go into much details about our lives, or our families. We knew the basics about each other and kept it that way. Not out of distrust. I’d always trusted him, through the games, the lies, the manipulation. Not a second passed where I felt he might harm me.
Hurt me…yes.
He ripped me open more times than I could track. But irreparably, physically, no, never. “I trust you.”
He ducked his chin and realized he purposefully hid his eyes from mine. A tactic I depended on more times than I cared to admit.
“Are you ashamed?” I asked.
At first, he only shook his head but then he finally dragged his gaze to mine and held it. “Most of the syndicates assume my family runs drugs. Or that we are involved with drugs in some capacity.”
Basically my assessment all these years. Further queries into what he did were never necessary. How could I have used him for his attention, his time, his body for so many years without knowing. It seemed foolish now.
“We don’t do anything involving drugs. We actually take care of women.” He continued.
I leaned down and unzipped my black knee high boots. They were too stiff around the ankle and this conversation would require comfort. I had a feeling this might take a turn into flying obscenities. “I don’t know what that means.”
He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. Again, not meeting my eyes, but reluctantly looking up before he spoke. “My family takes care of prostitutes.”
It took me a second to wrap my brain around what he said. “You’re a pimp?”
He surged forward hands raised. “No, the opposite actually. We keep the girls who want that kind of life safe. We help them stay clean, avoid cops, find housing or hotels. They make all their own choices.”
“And you take their money to perform this service?” My insides felt fuzzy. Warm and room temperature like a pot not quite boiling but not cold either. Disgust, disbelief, and downright and dirty fear crept under my skin. Not all at once, tiny slivers containing bits and pieces of memories which should have led me to this conclusion a long time ago.
He took another step forward, and I retreated bumping into the knobs on the stove. Two of them dug into my back.
“Kat, calm down. I can see your mind whirring. We don’t take their money. The money we get comes from the client. They pay for what they want, and they get willing, happy, participating women. The clients who go to our girls are politicians, teachers, regular people who want companionship and don’t want the seedy element.”
“What do you call this?” I waved my hands at the all the men occupying the bursting front rooms. “We almost got shot, and you are trying to say your work doesn’t have a seedy element?”
Someone slipped between us, handed Pierce a phone, and retreated quickly. “What is it now?”
Pierce handed me the phone. I scanned the screen. The man Fox picked up wasn’t hired by anyone on Pierce’s side. One of the five families put a hit out on me and Bianca. And worse, that same man killed my father.
I didn’t realize I’d sank to the floor until the cold tile on my bare ankle jolted me to awareness. The phone had slipped out of my hand and clattered somewhere near the wall. The world cut through my vision on a movie reel. Each clip barely pasted to the previous, so I caught glimpses of the white screen in the middle.
Pierce picked me up and carried me into our bedroom. I didn’t know how I felt from his revelation, so I held on tight and let him lay me on the soft gray bedding. He sat down beside me and held my hand. “Are you okay?”
Once I took a few deep breaths, I could focus again and sat up. Pierce handed me a water bottle and cracked the lid for me. I took a
swig more out of politeness than necessity. “I’m fine. Really. Everything just caught up at once there. And what you said, and then the attack. I always thought my father well-respected. The bastard didn’t deserve their respect, but the families never question his leadership. I’m in charge for a month, and they are trying to kill me. Where did I falter? How did I already fail at a job I’ve been trained my entire life to do?”
I didn’t like how my ascension as the head of the five could be put into jeopardy so easily. “Does this have to do with rejecting Bianca’s marriage offers? Or are they looking for an excuse because they think I’m weak?” My voice started to raise as I spoke. “The only reason they can think me weaker than my father is because I’m a woman.”
Pierce took the bottle from me, screwed on the lid, and sat it on the bedside table. “You’re not weak, and we will show them. It might be a good time to tell me what the five do…I think I have a handle on your family, although you can confirm.”
“Import and export. We also oversee the other families. Make sure no one is making trouble or drawing too much attention. We’re the public face of the five, the ones with the political contacts and the donation accounts.”
He nodded and gripped my hand gently. I continued. “Aristo handles drugs. Usually high end designer drugs, mostly sold here in New York and in Hollywood. Cambio specializes in assassinations. Specialty bodyguard work as well. Litio does weapons, and Biondello is…” I trailed off trying to think how to explain the Biondello family.
“They what?”
“We don’t see them often. They keep to themselves. That family is only called upon when needed. They handle things on a heavier scale. Think warfare, famine, the apocalypse. The head of their branch is Prospero Biondello. Sometimes he’s called The Red Death.”
Pierce snorted, and I resisted the urge to cross myself. “The Red Death? Are you joking?”
His smile dimmed when I didn’t join in the humor.
“I’m serious. I met him at my father’s funeral. He’s my age and offered the same courtesy as any other attendant. But, everyone gave him a wide clearance when he neared.”
He started running his thumb over the top of my knuckles. “Is that it?”
“Off the top of my head, yeah. In my opinion, this world doesn’t have bad guys or good guys. Everyone exists in shades of gray. Your choices reflect where you land on that scale. As far as we’re concerned, we stick to our business and try to keep people from getting hurt.”
“I’m not judging you.”
I pulled from his grasp. “Why not? You just basically admitted your gang actually isn’t really bad. You help women on a certain career path. Illegal yes, immoral, I don’t think so. But, it doesn’t explain why you want to be with me. While I’ve never killed a man, I’m not an innocent in this life.”
Pierce leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. “If it’s not obvious to you by now why I’ve put up with you for all these years, then nothing I can say will clarify it. You see what you want to see and believe what you want to believe. And one day, you’ll understand.”
I swallowed against the lump squeezing up my throat like a rock in an air-less balloon.
He handed me back the water, and I took another swig.
“What if I admit I’m scared, or that I don’t have any idea what I’m doing sometimes.”
Another snort escaped him before he covered it with a fake cough. “I know that about you already, Kat. You can bullshit your way through a situation like a pro. Best I’ve ever seen, and I’ve witnessed some smooth talkers.”
Was he trying to make me feel better? His words still rang in my ears. He loved me. I knew he loved me. And, even if I never said the words out loud, I hoped he knew how I felt for him too. We fought more than we did anything else, but I couldn’t imagine our relationship without throwing things at him, or the way he dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the outside of my hip when he sincerely apologized.
I straightened my spine and looked him dead in the eye. “So what do we do now? I don’t know how to secure my place in the five. Earn the respect my father had and kill whatever little rebellion has seemed to crop up before he died.”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t understand all the rules and showmanship your family deals with. In my family, we just say what we mean and then do it. Yours is more about presentation than actual follow through.”
“I should take Bianca out of school. What if something happens to her?” The thought alone enough to pit my heart against my ribcage and start a line for bets.
His warm hand settled on my back, and he rubbed slowly. “Fox is with her. Nothing will happen while he’s there.”
“But he’ll have to sleep, and eat, and pee…or whatever.”
“Then I’ll send another of the crew to back him up, and tomorrow, we will hunt down these assassin Italians and hire her a bodyguard who can Liam Niesen her ass if something happens. If they were party to the attack, I’d assume they would have succeeded, which tells me it’s one of the five making a move, not the collective.”
I chuckled against my will, tears I’d been fighting barely restrained. He reached out and caught one threatening to fall from the edge of my lower lashes. “I won’t let anything happen to you or your sister.”
A cold hard rock settled low in my belly, and I tried to keep my voice even as I asked, “But what if something happens to you?”
Eleven
Pierce
My cell phone ringing at ten am dragged me from a stack of housing inspection reports. I pulled them together and slipped the device from a stack of creamy manila envelopes. The number wasn’t familiar. I hit the accept button.
“Hello?”
“Pierce.” A feminine voice cut through the line.
“Who is this? How did you get this number?”
A huff blasted through loud and clear. “This is Bianca. Kat gave me your number in case of an emergency.
I shot to my feet already moving toward the back door to find the crew. “And you’re having one now?”
“Yes, I’m going to murder my sister. She pulled me from school this morning.”
Annoyance flashed through me and I closed the door. Guilt follow at the hysteria in Bianca’s tone. I’d advised her. I didn’t exactly say she should bring Bianca to live with us, but I might have implied it would be a good idea.
“Please, tell me you did not tell her to do this. What happened after you guys got home last night? Fox stayed here. Then he left at a random too early hour, and now he’s back. Someone needs to tell me what’s going on.”
I shifted nervously and went back to my chair, thankful the house was empty save Gerry harvesting fake crops on his cell phone in the kitchen. “That’s probably a conversation you should have with Kat.”
She yelled into the receiver and I pulled it away from my ear. “You are useless. She isn’t answering my calls right now. Likely because she knows how fucking pissed I am. But you know what, I’ve got something that will help with that.”
The phone clicked off, and I stared at it.
“What was that?” Gerry called. My ears still rang from her yelling in it.
What the hell was that? “I don’t even know man. I think the Minola sisters are about to have a showdown.”
He snorted. “I’d pay money to see that, as long as it was behind like hockey stadium glass or some shit. No chance of being impaled in the head with a high heel.”
Unfortunately, it seemed I’d have front row seats to this mess, and I doubted even bullet proof glass would keep me safe.
Twelve
Katherine
I pulled Bianca out of school as soon as it opened in the morning. Then I went to my penthouse and hid out like a coward, because I knew she’d be coming for me. Angry about the choice I made for her, instead of with her. Faced with the murder of our father and attack on us, I felt it necessary. She likely disagreed.
My phone rang sh
rilly through the echoing loft. The walls were bare. Everything had been packed. The movers were taking loads to storage and Pierce’s house over the next couple of days. I glanced out the window at the skyline beyond. I’d miss it here. I couldn’t sell it, but renting it out still hurt just as much. I ignored the angry ringing.
Maybe I could convince Pierce to move closer to the city, offer me a house with a view. He’d likely consider every lit window an opportunity for a sniper and move us out as a fast as we get in. The man had a preoccupation with my safety, but after yesterday, I couldn’t be annoyed with him for it any longer. He’d likely saved us. After the assassination attempt on me, Bianca and I both took self-defense classes, at our father’s insistence, for years. I’d never used what I learned before.
A box marked clothes tumbled off a stack, and I studied Patton, yet another of Pierce’s crew, as he skirted through box columns to the main room. His buzzed head, leather coat, and scuffed up boots, the same as most of his other guys. “Everything okay?” he asked, Irish accent thick and deep. “Boss is calling, and you aren’t answering.”
I pointed to my phone across the room. “I’m avoiding it.”
He snagged it off the table and brought it to me. Not two seconds after it hit my palm, it lit up again, Pierce’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer before?”
I stifled the sigh. “I’m fine. Why do you all keep asking me that? Patton is standing over me as we speak. About the worst thing that can happen to me here is suffocation by cardboard.”
“Or your sister when she finds you.”
Shit. “She called you?”
“Called, yelled, threatened. Sounds eerily familiar.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. At least he wasn’t angry for having to deal with Bianca. But, I should deal with it before she popped a gasket and made things worse. Neither of us were known for our level heads. “I’ll call you later. I’ll go over and speak to her now.”
Professional Liar Page 7
