My brow rises, a slight smirk settling in to get that snappy attitude back into her. She’ll need it in here. Nerves won’t get her anywhere at all. “You scared, little girl?” I murmur, flexing my fingers under hers. Her face hardens instantly, enough that my dick makes a fucking move in my pants. My voice lowers to a whisper. “You weren’t scared on that hood, Fia. You knew what you wanted then.” Her mouth parts, her breath filtering out, eyes widening. “You wanna play with the big boys, stop acting like the little virgin schoolgirl.” My thumb wraps over her fingers, pressure showing her how much it hurts to be part of this world. I smile at her slight wince, wondering how that whimper might sound if I fucked her.
My hand pulls from beneath hers, my head nodding at the door. She can go in when she’s good and ready. In front of me if that’s what she needs. What the hell does it matter? Either way, I’m about to get a fucking mouthful and she’s about to show this family who she really is: a Vico.
She’s up in my face and pressing her lips against mine before I've caught my next breath. I still completely, surprise catching me off guard, but it doesn't stop me reaching for her ass to bring her closer. She stops kissing me the minute my hands land on her, and arches her brow at me, a slight smirk settling onto her face.
“Screw you,” she whispers.
She yanks on the door so hard I’m surprised it’s still on the hinges, and then she’s off and striding into the room before I have the chance to respond.
“Fia,” Quinn says, dropping his pen onto the table and smiling. “Did you have a good time in Miami? Carter show you around the—”
“How long has my father been a drug dealer?” she launches.
His head rears back, eyes directed straight at mine as I close the door and follow in behind her. She gets in his eyeline again, blocking his view of me. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. Are you, too? Is that all this life of yours is built on?”
“The hell are you talking about?” he asks, leaning back and looking at her.
“No, enough, Uncle Quinn. I want the truth. All of it.”
He stares at her. No movement at all, other than him eventually taking his glasses off and throwing them on the desk beside his laptop. Then he waves his hand at her, pointing at the chair opposite him. “Sit down, Fia.”
“No. I’m not here to be talked at and placated. I’m here to—”
“Sit. The fuck. Down.”
His sharp, aggressive tone makes her shift her ass, and the confidence she wore vanishes. She seems nervous again, hovering, and my feet unintentionally take a half step forward. Christ knows why. Maybe it’s some protective instinct I’m not aware of. Either way Quinn notices, and the goddamn glare that comes from him immediately sets my pulse racing. His eyes bore into mine, ones I’ve known long enough to see where his mind is going.
He knows.
That one step forward gave me the fuck away.
Stupid.
“Carter?” he asks. I stare back at him, mouth a flat, tight line and my hands in my pockets. I might have to answer to him, but he’s only getting information if he asks directly. “Tell me you didn’t.” Fuck her, he means.
“I didn’t.” It’s not a lie, and he’s hardly likely to say that sort of thing out loud with her in the room. We’ll be having that conversation when she’s not here to get in the way of his language.
He nods and turns back to Fia, brow softening for his niece.
“I said sit down, Sofia. Get comfortable and run that question by me again. At least tell me where the hell it came from.”
She inches to the chair, perching herself in it, but she’s anything but comfortable. Her body’s rigid, fingers whitening under the tension with which she’s holding onto the armrest. “I saw it, Uncle Quinn. It’s not Carter’s fault. There was a problem. He had no choice but to take me with him, so don’t throw your weight around at him.”
Cute.
Useless, but cute.
His eyes flick between mine and hers as he reaches for the decanter and pours himself a scotch. I’ve never known him be able to switch from aggressive to pliable in the blink of an eye before now, but he’s managing it for her.
“Drugs. How long has he been doing it?” she continues. “And what for? It’s not like he hasn’t got enough money. Or you. I don’t understand. You both know what I’m doing at college, how important it is to me.”
He sighs and takes a sip of his drink. “Fia, what you think you saw was just something that needed doing. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about. It’s not all roses and rainbows out here in the real world.”
“Not something I need to be concerned about? I was nearly shot at in my own father’s fucking drug deal,” she screeches, standing to pace. “And then I had to watch Carter kill people.” Her body swings round, and she’s glaring at Quinn, her finger pointed. “And then, after we survived that, I was taken to Christ knows where to be ransomed off to my father and had to watch Carter kill more people to save me.”
He looks at her for five more seconds, and then straight at me, daggers shooting from his eyes and a shit tonne of questions coming with them.
“I mean, what the hell kind of life do you people live?”
“You watch your goddamn mouth, young lady,” he says quietly, still staring at me.
She gets right back in his face, a snarl covering her lips and her hands planted on her hips. “No. I won’t. I won’t be told anymore. This is my family, and I’m disgusted with all of you. Especially my father. How could you?”
“That’s enough, Fia. You have no idea who we are, or why we are. If you took a minute to think rather than lose your shit you might understand what life is really like.”
Her brows shoot up, mouth opening to retaliate.
“And before you utter another word about what you think you know, have a drink and calm down.”
“What?”
He pours her one, shoving it across the table. “Drink. Might make that mood of yours improve. You’re just like your goddamn mother.”
“You want me to drink alcohol?”
“I want you to grow the fuck up if you want to have these kinds of conversations. Something your father should have let you do a long time ago.”
She frowns, seemingly lost in this turn of events. I’m pretty fucking clueless myself. I thought he’d do everything he could to not tell her anything, especially given it’s not his place to tell her with Vico’s power all over him. Looks like I was wrong.
“Carter?”
I look up at him, unaware I was looking at her again. Fuck.
“Go home. I’ll be over later.” I bet he will.
My head nods, but I look back at her to make sure she’s all right for what that’s worth. She’s still hovering around the drink, half reaching for it and a look of confusion all over her face.
“Fia?” I ask. I don’t know why. I should just do as I’m damn well told, but I’m getting all kinds of shit later so fuck it. My gut wants to check with her before I leave, so I fucking will. She looks at me and then Quinn, lips quivering. “You want me to go?” I prompt.
“The hell was that?” Quinn snaps, moving himself between me and her.
I square my shoulders and pull my hands out of my pockets. I don’t know what it is, and can’t answer him with any clarity, but all this is because I gave her some insight, and I’m damned if I’m leaving her alone to deal with him if she doesn’t want that.
“You heard.” It’s all I’ve got to answer him with.
His eyes narrow and he steps forward into me, waiting for me to defer and back away like I always do. For the second time in my life I don’t move an inch. Last time earned me a punch in the face. I’ll damn well take it again if I have to. “I’ll go when she tells me it’s okay to, Quinn. Not before.”
Something about his face changes, softens. Not that anything is ever soft with him other than when he looks at his wife, but something other than the harsh normality covers his brow. I pull in a breat
h and quietly blow it out, knowing that this could be something much bigger than just Fia between us. I’ve never allowed myself to challenge him, other than the one time. I never dared or cared to after that, but this here? Yeah. I’m not damn well leaving until she gives me the nod. If that means I’m out on my ass, home and family lost, so be it. Somehow, the importance of Fia being okay has overruled my logic.
“It’s all right, Carter. I’m fine.”
Quinn’s brow arches at her voice behind him, his eyes still boring into mine. I sidestep to look at her. I want to see those eyes myself, make sure what she’s saying is coming from her and not just the situation we’re in. She smiles and nods, the heavy tumbler of scotch in her delicate fingers. “You can go. We’ll be okay, won’t we, Uncle Quinn?”
My stare comes back to his again, watching the slow, arrogant smile that spreads over his face.
“Yeah, we’ll be just fine, Sofia.” His goddamn eyes, still full of pure Cane viciousness, tell me that I probably won't be, though. “You heard the lady, Carter. Leave. I’ll get your version of this later.”
I cast her one last look to ensure her smile is still in place before I spin on my heel and leave them to it. He won’t hurt her; I know that, but as I cross the hall to head back to my place and hear the sound of the door closing behind me, I can’t help but wonder how much he’s gonna twist shit around. He’s good at that. Always has been. It’s how he gets what he wants in this world now he doesn’t kill people who get in his way. She deserves more than that. She should be told the truth. All of it. She can make decisions then, plan a route further into this world or away from it if she wants. Something tells me she might have a different opinion of who her father is by the end of their talk, though, because that’s what the Canes do. What he’s taught me to do. They weave and corrupt, making it seem like it was always the recipient’s idea to do the unthinkable.
Shame.
That thought leaves a sour fucking taste behind as I hit fresh air and breathe in deeply. There’s an essence to Fia beyond her innocence, an anger she could harness and use. I can only hope she survives Quinn. Handles him. Because I like her bite, her spirit.
Like her.
* * *
It’s getting dark out now. It’s past ten in the evening. I haven’t known what to do with myself the entire five hours I’ve been here, but I do know I’ve been waiting for a knock on my door. The laptop came out for a while so I could do some work, but I shut it again after twenty minutes because I couldn't concentrate on a damn thing. I spent an hour smashing my hands into the punching bag, taking out all the frustration I felt thinking about Fia on the heavy sand bag, and yet I couldn’t find the calm that usually comes and gives me the ability to function without the rage that builds. And now I’m pacing and still waiting for Quinn to get here.
My eyes flick around my home, just like they have done for the last hour. It’s not my home. It’s Quinn’s home. A Cane home. I’m not one, not technically. Never have been, no matter how much he’s treated me like one. I should pack some stuff in a bag and get ready to leave. That could be coming for me now. I knew it was a possibility the second I saw him get in between Fia and me, and I definitely understood it when I answered him back and stood my ground.
I stop pacing and smile at the image of those dainty fingers holding a glass of scotch as if she was suddenly all grown up and ready to deal with the life she’s found out about. Good. I hope she’s given him hell in there. Shown him that she is grown up and won’t be manipulated into believing this is all for the greater good or whatever other crap Quinn might pour down her throat. It isn’t. It’s done for power and control, things both her father and her uncle know all about. Hopefully, if she’s kept her spine, it’ll give her enough guts to go deal with her father after this is done, whichever way she chooses. I couldn’t give a fuck if it’s in this world or out of it, just that she knows enough to make those choices for herself.
The knock I’ve been waiting for comes as I’m heading upstairs to pack a bag. Whether he throws me out or not, I should probably get out of here for a while. Give this whole situation some space so I can think clearly. He can open the goddamn door himself for whatever he’s got planned. I might have fucked up, and I’ll take whatever he’s about to throw at me, but after that I’m gonna go do some serious talking with myself about what the hell came over me. Although, I know the answer already. It’s her. Everything. Every damn minute she’s in my head, burrowing in with her smile and her snappy attitude. And those curves. And the feel of her on my dick.
Through fucking clothes.
Heavy footsteps echo to me as he comes in, each one of them filling me with indistinct feelings about my place here.
“Carter?”
I don’t answer him. I pull the shit out of my overnighter that hasn’t even been unpacked and start loading it up with fresh clothes. Two weeks. I’ll get away, take some time off, if he still wants me here at all. It isn’t until I hear those feet hitting the stairs that I consider what all this means to me. I frown and look at the inside of the suitcase, remembering him all those years ago when he turned up at my door and offered me a new life away from the grime I was living in as a child.
“You going somewhere?” he asks from behind me.
Sadness sweeps over me, thoughts of what I would have been without him in my life making me hate what I’ve done for her. Stupid. Warranted. But fucking dense.
“Yeah. Think I need to,” I reply, lifting a shirt into the case.
“Look at me, Carter.”
I shake my head and carry on packing. I don’t want to look at him. Don’t want to see the disappointment in his face when I admit all the shit I’ve done. I snort to myself. I’m a fucking child again, just like that snot-nosed kid who came back here with him, wide eyed and dazzled at all the wealth. He was everything to me then.
Still damn well is.
“You fuck her?” he asks.
The crudeness of the question makes me furious and I stop packing to stand up tall, twisting my body to look at him.
“I said I didn’t, Quinn. I meant it.”
He stares at me, dice turning in his hand and his face full of thought. “What you running for then?”
It’s a good question, one I don’t really have a solid answer to other than to clear my own damn head of Fia. I shake my head again and go back to packing, attempting to ignore him and wondering what the fuck made me stand up for her in the first place. He chuckles and turns away, his feet taking him back to the ground floor. “Get your ass downstairs, Carter.”
My hands dump the clothes and I walk after him, knowing whatever he’s got to say can’t be put off any longer. He’s over at the drinks cabinet before I get down, opening my fifteen-year-old tequila as if he owns it. He takes a swig and then holds it out to me, offering the bottle up. “Drink it.”
I frown and take the bottle from him, tipping some down my throat.
“Funny thing about decent women,” he says. “They get inside your head. Makes the space in there fucking senseless.”
I lower the bottle and look him over, wondering where the hell this is going. Fatherly talks about women have never been his thing. That’s always been Gabby’s job. “You eaten? Injected?”
I nod.
“Good, drink some more. Might take the sting out of it.”
I do, slowly, eyes still looking at him as he starts pacing about. If that’s not a fucking announcement I’m about to get a beating I don’t know what is.
“She’s just like her mother. Full of fire. Add Vico into that mix and I didn’t get a fucking word of sense out of my own mouth, let alone into her head.”
My lips smile around the bottle as he arrives back in front of me, and I lower it again to place it on the table. Good girl. “Good.”
The speed of his fist coming at my face, and then the impact of it, send me staggering a few steps backwards. Fuck, that hurt.
I stretch my jaw, clenching my teeth, and then st
ep back up in front of him to wait for another if he wants that. I deserve it. Not one part of me feels any fucking remorse other than for the fact that he’s disappointed in me.
“That’s for being fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Taking her to a goddamn deal, and letting the rest of it happen? The hell is wrong with you?”
I crack my jaw again. He can have that. I was stupid. Wouldn’t fucking change it, though. Not now that I have the memory of her lips on mine, her pussy rubbing against me. A grin creeps over my face at the thought, and I watch him so I’m ready for the next punch coming my way.
“Vico’s daughter? You’re being a fucking dick, Carter.” Yeah, maybe. “Of all the women in the world you choose her to play with, you choose my goddamn niece?”
The second hit comes just as violently, and I barely keep myself from hitting the deck this time round. I stumble, my hand bracing me off the floor so I can get back up in his goddamn face again. That fucking hurt more than the last one. I snarl, trying to contain the anger that wants to let loose, and rub my jaw.
“I’m not fucking playing,” I growl, as I spit blood on the floor and wipe the corner of my mouth. "Back the hell off, Quinn, before I lose my shit."
He does. A step, and then another, all the time shaking his hand out, a snarl of his own levelled directly at me. Christ knows what’s gonna happen now. I’ve taken two hits, but I doubt I’ll take another without retaliating. Everything he’s done for me will mean shit if he carries on. He knows it as well as I do. I'm bigger than I was last time he hit me, and a damn sight stronger.
“I taught you better than this, Carter,” he mutters.
I wipe my mouth again. Yeah, he did.
Didn’t stop me, though.
It’s quiet then until he snatches the bottle off the table and huffs. I pace, trying to cool my temper down to manageable, because if he's about to kick off again I'm gonna let loose some of this goddamned frustration.
Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4 Page 14
