Fearless: Mob Boss Book Two (Volume 2)

by Michelle St. James

  They cared. She could see it now. Could feel it. They were just doing what people had always done when faced with an uncertain outcome; taking their laughter and love where they found it, tasting life while they could. It was a sign of their humanity, just as her all-encompassing fear was a sign of her own.

  Finally, when the pasta was gone and the wine bottles emptied, Nico pushed back from the table.

  “Let’s go into the other room.”

  Angel stood. She’d been patient, had let them plan their way. Now she needed to know how they were going to save her brother.

  She exhaled her relief as he took her hand and led her to the living room. He wouldn’t fight her after all.

  Nico cleared the coffee table and unrolled a map while everyone got settled. The Pacific was clearly visible along one side of the map, a densely packed neighborhood of houses stretching in every direction on the other. Angel knew immediately that it was a map of the neighborhood where they suspected Dante was holding David.

  Nico used some of Locke’s books to hold down the edges, then stood back.

  “You all have an encrypted copy of this map in your secure email, but it’s easier to talk about as a group this way.” He used a red Sharpie to make a circle around one of the houses on the map. “This is where Dante is holding David Rossi.”

  “Bondesan,” Angel corrected him. David wouldn’t want to be associated with their dead father that way. “And how do we know for sure?”

  She’d knew the conclusion probable, but she didn’t want to waste time and effort planning a siege only to crash in on some surfer smoking a joint in his living room.

  “Mattia and Aldo cased the place on their way down from the airport,” Nico said.

  Angel sat up straighter. “They saw David?”

  “Not exactly,” Nico said. “But they saw Dante, and I think it’s safe to say that he’s sticking close to David.”

  “But we don’t know?” She had to have all the information, even if it meant being scared. Even if it meant knowing they might not succeed.

  “We know with as much certainty as we can, given the time we have left,” Nico said.

  There was regret in his voice, but he was telling her the truth. That was all she could ask for at this point. She nodded.

  “There are three doors,” he marked the front and rear entrances, plus a set of doors leading to a second floor balcony. “Unfortunately, there are also lots of windows. Those are secondary concerns. Dante’s men might escape that way, but Dante will try to get David out through one of the conventional exits. Angel’s brother is the only negotiating tool he has. He’s going to try and keep him alive, especially once he realizes we’ve outed his operational headquarters.”

  “I’ll get David out the back and bring him down this alley here.” He pointed to a tiny strip of pavement at the back of the house.

  “What about Sara and me?” Angel asked.

  “You’ll be right here,” Nico said, his voice as cold as ice.

  Angel crossed her arms. “Well, I can’t speak for Sara, but I definitely won’t be here. I’ll be there, helping you get my brother out in one piece.”

  “No, you won’t,” he said through his teeth. “It will be a distraction. One we can’t afford.”

  “You are all professionals,” she said stubbornly. “I’m sure none of the men here will be distracted by my presence. You showed me how to use a gun. I can protect myself.”

  “You’ll be a distraction to me,” he roared.

  Everyone froze. Nico turned away from them, stalked to the liquor cabinet. He poured a drink and downed it in one swallow. When he turned around, his eyes were bright with anger.

  “You’ve fired a gun exactly one time.” He was looking at her, talking to her, like they were the only two people in the room.

  “You told me it was so I could protect myself.”

  “And it is,” he said. “But not in a dangerous situation that I put you in.”

  She saw the fear lurking behind his frustration, and her heart softened. “I have to be there, Nico. I have to.”

  The room was heavy with silence. Finally, Luca spoke.

  “The house two addresses down is empty.”

  Nico glared at him.

  “What do you mean?” Angel asked.

  “It’s a vacation rental,” Luca explained. “It’s empty right now.”

  “We could use the body cams,” Elia said.

  “I don’t want her anywhere near that house!” Nico said.

  She should have been glad he was no longer shouting, but she knew from experience that sometimes the time to be most scared was when Nico lowered his voice. Luca and the others must have known it, too, because they shuffled a little on their feet, looked idly around the room like there was something fascinating on the walls, the floor, the sofa.

  “If you let me watch,” Angel said. “I won’t feel like I have to go to the other house on my own.”

  She hated to reference London. Hated to remind him that the last time he’d excluded her, she’d gone ahead and shown up anyway. But she was so scared. She needed to be close to David when he was rescued, needed to know for herself that he would be okay.

  Nico paced to the windows overlooking the courtyard out front and turned his back to them. For a long moment, no one said anything, and the only sound in the room was the faint crash of the surf against the rocks below the house. Finally, he turned around.

  “Sara stays with you. And so help me, Angel, if you take it upon yourself to leave that house…”

  “I won’t.”

  She saw defeat in the slope of his shoulders and felt it like a stab to the heart. She didn’t want to be a burden to him. Didn’t want to make things harder than they already were. But this was her brother. He was her only remaining family, and he was her responsibility. She would be as much a pain in the ass as she had to be to make sure he made it out of this alive.

  Nico looked at the others. “We leave at midnight.”

  40

  He sat on the beach below the house, rolling the rosary beads between his fingers and thinking about his mother. She wouldn’t call him a hypocrite for returning to the old habit in a time of trouble.

  “That’s what faith is, Nico,” she would say. “The one thing that never fails if you hold tight enough.”

  It was true in a way, which wasn’t to say it guaranteed a specific outcome. The rosary was still there after months away from it. The beads were smooth and cool in his hand, just like he remembered, the ritual as calming as the waves rushing toward his bare feet.

  He looked out over the water. He couldn’t see the moon, but somewhere high above the earth, it lit enough of the sky to cast shimmering light over the surface of the sea. He felt strangely detached from the activity going on inside the house—the gathering of weapons and cameras, the loading of ammunition. Soon enough they would be on their way north to the South Bay, the string of beaches west of Los Angeles where Dante had been holding David. Nico would have a chance to redeem himself by saving David, and he would see it done, even if the aftermath meant leaving Angel for good.

  She would have her brother, her family. It was what he wanted for her.

  He felt the eventual loss of her like an ever-widening hole in his heart. The family was no place for her, and he didn’t delude himself into thinking saving David would change anything.

  It would only be the beginning.

  They would rescue Angel’s brother, but his kidnapping was only a symptom of a much bigger problem. There were many in the family—and in the Syndicate as a whole—that didn’t agree with Nico’s vision. That was obvious now, and he’d been foolish to discount the dissenters as a powerless minority.

  Everyone makes mistakes, Nico.

  It was something his father had said Nico when Nico fucked up, when he’d beaten himself up over every misstep. And of course, his father had been right. Nico wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe he was an exception. But acknowledging the
mistake wasn’t enough.

  That was something his father had taught him as well.

  Once David was safe, Nico would need to rectify the bigger problem, and that would make things even more dangerous for Angel.

  Would removing Dante from the equation make her safer? Undoubtedly. She would go back to her quiet life, maybe move someplace new, start over with her brother. It was a gift he would give her by killing Dante once and for all. Then she would be free.

  He rolled the rosary beads between his fingers, searching for the words he hadn’t spoken in more than two years.

  “Our father, who art in heaven…” he murmured.

  Did he believe it? Fuck, he didn’t know. But it was worth a shot.

  41

  Angel found him on the beach, speaking softly to himself while he stared out over the water. She approached him slowly, wondering if he was angry. She’d pushed him in front of the men, had undermined his authority. She wouldn’t blame him if he was mad, but she couldn’t let that stop her from being there for David.

  “Hey,” she said, dropping next to him on the sand.

  “Hey.” He didn’t look at her, just kept staring out over the water.

  She noticed his hand moving, and when she looked closer she saw that he was holding something in his palm, working it between his fingers. Mala beads? Unlikely. She thought of her own Catholic upbringing and realized he had been saying the rosary.

  “Would you like me to leave you alone?” she asked.

  He took her hand in his own. “No.”

  She followed his gaze across the water. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m trying to protect you, Angel. That’s all I’m ever trying to do.”

  “I understand that,” she said. “But I need to be there for my brother, and I guess that means our goals aren’t always aligned.”

  He turned to look at her, his panther eyes piercing hers through the darkness. “You don’t trust me to save him.”

  She shook her head. “There’s no one I trust more. I just…” She faltered, trying to find the words to explain.

  “Continue,” he prompted.

  “I just need to be there,” she said. “When you save him, I need to be there. And if something goes wrong…” She hardly dared to voice the fear. “I’ll want to be there then, too.”

  “It’s a mistake,” he said stonily.

  “Then it’s my mistake,” she snapped.

  “You have no idea what you’re doing,” he said tightly.

  “Just because you disagree with me, doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” she said.

  “In this case, I’m afraid it does.”

  Anger swelled through her body. There were times when his Alpha male, domineering, know-it-all attitude was a turn on—but this was not one of them.

  She stood, brushing the sand off her legs, bare under a long skirt. “Then I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

  She headed for the path leading back to the house. She made it to the base of the staircase before she felt his hand on her arm. He spun her around, pinned her against a flat piece of rock that rose to the cliffs on Locke’s property.

  “I don’t think you get it,” he said, his voice ragged, face only inches from hers.

  “Get what?” She had to force the question from her mouth, force her brain to formulate the words. She was back in Nico’s orbit, struggling to maintain contact with the ground when the pull of his gaze, his hands, his body, threatened to set her loose in space.

  He lowered his face to her neck, inhaling like an animal sniffing its prey, nuzzling the tender skin at her collarbone. “I can’t think straight when you’re around, Angel. Can’t worry about anyone but you. Can’t see anyone but you.”

  Her head fell to the side, giving Nico better access to the side of her neck as he moved closer, insinuating one thigh between her legs until it pressed against her warmth.

  “I… I’m sorry,” she said as he nipped at her ear, the heat of his breath sending a jolt of heat to her center.

  “Sorry for what?” His voice was a growl. “For doing this to me?”

  She gasped as he pressed his hard-on into her. Her belly tightened in response, and a swell of desire rolled through her.

  “I don’t know,” she choked out as his hips ground into hers. She was nearing the point of no return; that familiar place with Nico where none of their differences mattered, where she couldn’t think about anything but the feel of him driving into her.

  “For making me so fucking crazy about you that I can’t think straight?” he said, kissing his way across her cheek until he reached the corner of her mouth. “For making me want to walk away from everything but you?”

  “I’m just sorry everything’s so… hard,” she said, trying to keep her focus on the conversation. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew it was important, but that part of her brain was so far away from the feel of Nico’s mouth on her skin, his knuckles brushing her cheek on their way down her neck.

  “Oh, it’s hard alright,” he said, sliding his hands down the side of her body.

  She felt the heat of his palms on her legs as he moved his hands under her skirt, lifting it on his way back up her body. The cool ocean air brushed against her bare skin as the fabric bunched around her waist. Then he was lifting her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the rock. They were in a world of their own making, sheltered from the house above by the craggy cliffs, the moonless night.

  He positioned himself so his cock was pressed into the “V” between her legs, and she gasped at the exquisite torture of it. He was so close, his erection only separated from her heat by his jeans and the thin satin of her underwear.

  She grabbed his ass and pressed him harder into her. He groaned, his breath a whisper against her lips in the moment before he captured her mouth with his.

  There was no build to the kiss. He dove into her mouth like he did everything else; devouring, occupying, owning. There was no half-measure with Nico, and definitely not with her. He took the kiss deep, pressing his whole body into hers as he tasted her. She met his passion with a ferociousness of her own, sinking her hands into the silky hair at the back of his head while he pulled down her tank top, freed her breasts from her bra.

  The air hit her already sensitive nipples, and she moaned as he cupped her breasts, thumbing one of the nipples while he gently pinched the other one.

  He pulled his mouth from hers and bent his head, closing his lips over one of the tiny buds. The heat of it against her cool skin was like a stone thrown at her center, the desire rippling outward in waves. She arched her back, offering herself to him as she pushed her hips against the length of his shaft through his jeans.

  She moved one hand between them as he sucked, the feel of his tongue against her erect nipple like a match to a flame. Reaching for the top button of his jeans, she freed his cock, reveling at the smoothness of it, hard and heavy with his need for her.

  “Fuck, Angel,” he grunted, lifting his head to look at her. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  “Show me,” she said, stroking him, feeling him lengthen in her palm.

  He lowered one hand between them and ripped away her underwear. Then he was right there, his cock hot and silky against the folds of her sex.

  “Nico…” She pushed against him, seeking the connection, the moment when his head was poised at her entrance, the moment right afterwards when filled her.

  “You want it?” He was grinding against her, his tip rubbing against her clit until she thought she might come before he ever entered her.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”

  “Please?” His voice low and laced with sex. “Don’t get polite on me now, Angel.”

  She reached for him then, positioned him at her opening. “Shut up and fuck me, Nico.”

  He growled, then plunged his tongue into her mouth as he thrust into her.

  He pulled almost all the way out and drove in
to her again, her cries snatched by the sound of the waves rushing up the beach, the crashing of water against the rocky cliffs.

  He cupped her ass, spreading her wider while she locked her legs around his waist, forcing him deeper. Then he was moving fast and sure inside of her, letting her feel the length of him every time he withdrew, every time he pushed into her again.

  She was moving with him now, rocking in time to the primal ebb and flow of the ocean moving up the beach, retreating back into the ocean, the sounds of it mingling with their passion until they were one with the primitive forces of nature.

  She felt the orgasm like a primordial tug at the center of her body, felt Nico getting bigger and harder as she grew tighter around him, her muscles contracting in the build up to finally letting go, the moment when she would they would tumble into the abyss together.

  He took her hands, raised them over her head, held them against the rock. She felt the cold stone against her skin in contrast to the heat of Nico’s body against her own. She was stretched out, every inch of her body, every secret corner, open to him as he drove into her again and again.

  “Oh, god,” she gasped. “I can’t…”

  “Come for me, baby,” he said. “Come for me.”

  She looked into his eyes. “You come for me, Nico.”

  He growled, thrusting into her with even more force until she came apart in his hands, tumbling over the precipice all at once, feeling him fall with her. She bit down on his shoulder, trying to muffle the cries she couldn’t contain as she shuddered again and again around him, the orgasm going on and on. He didn’t stop moving inside her until he’d wrung every last tremor from her body.

  He slumped against her, his head falling against her shoulder while their breathing slowly returned to normal. Finally, he raised his head, looked into her eyes.

  “I have to keep you safe, Angel,” he said. “I have to.”

  42

  They were on the road just after midnight; Angel, Nico, Luca, and Sara in one of the SUVs while Elia, Marco, Mattia, and Aldo followed in another. Angel watched Orange County pass on the other side of the window, lights casting pools of color across the pavement. Everything looked different at night. Darker, like the gloss had been rubbed off a shiny photograph. They pulled off the freeway in Hawthorne, then made their way west toward the beach.