21. Reunited

TWENTY-ONE

REUNITED

LUCA

I n Springfield, when one enemy disappears, another is quick to take its place.

That’s what comes of being a well-known criminal hotspot. When the lawless are the low, it’s obvious that those looking to profit will challenge those at the top.

First, it was the Libellula Family and the Sinners Syndicate at odds. They were uneasy compatriots, then fierce rivals, and finally allies as the two largest gangs in Springfield found a reason to stop fighting each other.

And, sure, that reason was Damien Libellula using Devil’s love for his wife against him, but after Cross fell for Damien’s baby sister, the uneasy truce becomes something a little stronger. Something a lot more unbreakable. They still own the East End. Us Sinners control the West Side. Together, we are Springfield.

And the Snowflakes are fucking over.

Of course, that just means that Falco has decided to start shit now that there’s an opening of pricks who want to give Devil a hard time.

Still, Johnny Winter is dead. It’s barely been a week since Kylie used the burner phone to shoot over the pic of Winter’s body on the floor, her faithful strychnine going to work on the man. True, it wasn’t the explosive end he deserved—and I hate to ask what he did with the C4 she brought with her to their meet—but as she added in her last message before she ditched the burner, a man who spent his life working from the shadows in the hope that everyone would know his name deserved to die without any effort.

That’s my Hummingbird.

That’s my girl.

At least… I thought she was mine.

It’s been a week. That was the last anyone has heard from her, and while she told me to expect that, I went from spending every minute of every day with her in Burns’s cabin. For twenty-seven-years, I slept alone. For mere days, I curled up behind Kylie. Going back to an empty bed was fucking torture, even though she promised that she’d be back before I knew it.

That was the plan. The Hummingbird is quick. She’s always in motion. Banking on the fact that Winter wouldn’t be alone, that his bodyguards would’ve at least had an idea who he was meeting with, she needed to fly the coop once it was obvious she killed Winter.

She’s a contract killer. A hired hitman—well, like she says, a hit woman . In this biz, loyalty stays in-house. The criminal world would understand that money talks. If she got a higher price on Winter’s head, they’d respect that she’d turn on her former employer. She didn’t owe him anything since he hadn’t completed payment. It’s just business .

No one paid Kylie to take down Winter. In fact, she did pro bono as a way to prove to Devil that she wasn’t a liability. Because while Kylie was never loyal to her clients, somehow I did what I doubted I could: I got her to love me. Her loyalty. It’s mine .

It has to be.

Right?

Fuck!

My thoughts distracted, my head wishing it was between Kylie thighs instead of bowing over my tool box, I toss the socket in my hand. I’d be meaning to grab a 7/32, but I picked up a 9/32 instead. A stupid mistake, and I curse under my breath as I root around for the right one.

Seven days. It’s been seven days, and she promised me that she’d only be in Florida for five.

I knew she had plans to visit her family in the new year. Needing to lie low a little incase Winter’s shaken crew decide to come after her, she bumped up the trip. As soon as Winter went down, the plan was for Kylie to head right for the nearest airport. Five days in Florida later and she’d return to Springfield.

Return to me .

I believed her. From the start, I never lied to her. I can’t say the same for her, but considering the situation she was in, I forgive her for protecting her identity. For protecting her intentions. It was her or me, and she didn’t know Luca St. James at all then.

She knows me now. And maybe we jumped into everything too fast, but it just… it felt right . Like she was the one I was meant to suffer through life to find. My reward. She loves me, and I keep telling myself as I strip the lug nut I’m trying to remove.

Devil was supposed to go see Romeo and Juliet tonight. Genevieve is Juliet in this season’s ballet, and I expected to be on duty so that I could drive Devil and his wife out to Riverside to see the performance.

I would’ve. This is still my job. I’m even more loyal to the boss than before after how I got to know Kylie because of him. But knowing that I was invited, too, and the Cross even got a ticket for Kylie to show there were no hard feelings over the fire… shit. No wonder the socket wrench was giving me trouble. I picked up a 7/32 again.

Damn it.

Working on my 67 Ford Mustang was supposed to take my mind off of how much I fucking miss my Kylie. I haven’t been down to the garage to continue restoring it since before the fateful night when I dropped Devil off to have dinner tonight with Damien Libellula.

That’s where he is tonight. After a young Sinner got gunned down by one of Falco’s men, Rolls, Devil, Damien, and Vincent Libellula were meeting to discuss how best to shut this latest threat to Springfield down.

I should’ve been the one to bring the boss across the city. That’s my job, but he went in Rolls’s car while I’ve been fucking around with this tire for the least half an hour.

That’s on me. Last night, I ran two red lights on the way back to Paradise Suites. So out of the ordinally for me, Devil decided that I needed a break from being behind the wheels. I tried to argue that I just had one—I didn’t drive those weeks I was upstate with Kylie—but when the Devil gives you an order, you listen.

So here I am. Pacing around my apartment, obsessing over where Kylie was and what she was doing… it wasn’t helping. Tending to my Mustang was supposed to take my mind off of her, but not only do my fingers seem to have stopped working, but what the hell does it feel like someone’s looking over my shoulder?

My head snaps over my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the shadow, but when I turn, that pretty face with the amused smirk has me dropping from one knee to both before landing on my elbow.

I hit the concrete floor of the garage, but I barely notice the ache as Kylie’s eyes twinkle in the dim lighting.

“Miss me, ace?”

I lash my hand out, grabbing her arm. I was right when I suspected someone was peeking over my shoulder. While I was struggling with the damn socket wrench, she must’ve snuck up behind me, crouching down at my back, waiting for me to notice her.

There’s a duffel bag at her feet. Her hair is wild and loose, a pair of unnecessary sunglasses tucking the curls out of her face. A souvenir from her trip to Florida? Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. She’s back.

She’s here.

I tug on her at the same as I pull myself into a seated position. Kylie’s laugh is a balm on my lonely soul as she allows herself to land in my lap.

Wrapping my arms around her, squeezing her tight so that she can’t escape me, I find her lips with mine and kiss her until we’re both breathless. Then, when I’m afraid that she’s running out of air, I pull back, nuzzling her soft cheek with my nose.

She smells amazing .

Fuck, I missed her. Let her go? I’ll never be able to let her go.

She wants to go to Florida, I’m there. Might as well meet the parents since she’ll have to kill me before I allow us to be separated for a whole fucking week . She needs a place to stay now that she’s back? It’ll be here. She needs a job if she’s serious about retiring as the Hummingbird? There’s always something the Sinners need, and she’s as resourceful as she is smart and fearless.

But, more than that, she’s mine—and the fat that she’s here, in my arms, proves it.

Kylie tucks her arms under my pits, completing our embrace. “That answers my question for me, huh? Not like I don’t appreciate the welcome, but you act like I went to Mars instead of Florida.”

As far out of my reach as it was, it might as well have been Mars.

“Five days,” I growl.

She pats my back. “Right. I went to Florida for five days.”

“It’s been a week!”

“No one said I couldn’t make a pit stop first.”

I pull away from her. “A pit stop? What do you mean, a pit stop?”

She pauses, her forehead furrowing. “How pissed will you be if I tell you that I changed my flight? Then booked the Florida one for the next day?”

His forehead furrows. “What do you mean?”

I get an impish smile in return. “So… about my job. Remember how I said I’ll still kill sometimes, especially to keep you from it?”

I nod, then my stomach twists. “Baby, baby… Kylie. No. Don’t tell me you went after Cross after all.”

She blinks, confused. “Wait? The artist?” A shake of her head has the knots in my guts unraveling. “No. I had a bigger target in mind. And, before you look like you’re gonna shit yourself again, I’ll tell you it wasn’t the Devil of Springfield, either.”

I’m glad to hear it. But if it wasn’t two of Kylie’s failed contracts, then who?

I get the answer a moment later when she wiggles off my lap, taking perverse enjoyment as she gives my cock a possessive stroke before she pops up, walking over to the duffel bag she abandoned. She drops down— I swallow a groan when she shows off her ass—and unzips the bag.

I lick my lips. I’m already fantasizing about bending her over my bed, christening it as ours by fucking her ass if she’ll let me, and the memory of how good it felt to thrust into that tight heat has me too distracted to realize that she pulled a black bag out of the duffel.

With one hand, she gestures for me to get to my feet. There isn’t anything I won’t do for Kylie, even something as simple as that. I push myself up until I’m stand, and once I do, she hands

“So… my pit stop? Was in Oklahoma.”

“Kylie. You didn’t ?—”

“I did. Brought you back a souvenir, too.”

Oklahoma.

Why would she?—

“Go on,” she says encouragingly. “Open it up.”

I do.

Whatever’s in the bag, it’s deceptively heavy. Once the bag is open, I tip it into my waiting palm.

The diamond-encrusted cross sparkles in the garage’s fluorescent lights.

Holy fucking shit.

I don’t even have to ask. I know exactly who her target was.

Jack Donovan.

KYLIE

I hold my breath.

Over the years, I’ve lost track of how many people I’ve killed. Maybe that sounds cold. Callous. It’s the job. Once I started taking payments for the lives I took, it became a game. I barely remember any of the victories, while stewing over my rare failures.

No wonder Luca suspected I might’ve taken the opportunity to close my books before I retire. Nah. I’m not worried about that.

But revenge? Fuck, yeah. I’m always up for a little revenge.

Just like how I killed Jason Villa because of how he treated my sister, when I realized that I considered Luca St. James one of the few who belonged to me, no way in hell was I going to let those people who terrorized him get away with it.

He knows. The moment he recognizes the cross I gave him, he has to know that I went all the way to Oklahoma just to take it from that Donavan dickhead.

But I’m not a thief. I wouldn’t go all the way there just to steal, but if I reappropriated it from the man I killed… that’s definitely more my style.

And while I’m pretty sure that Luca knows that, that doesn’t stop him from staring at the cross for a few seconds before he glances at me and asks, “How did you?—”

“Oh.” Maybe I have to be a little more clear. “Yeah. I killed that orange freak. Then I took it.”

I hold my breath again, waiting.

Luca’s handsome splits into a wide grin. “He was orange, wasn’t he? I always wondered if he went tanning on the congregation’s dime.”

“Spray tan, definitely.” And a shitty one, too. “The blood on his chest was a big improvement.”

Still clutching the diamond, though I have his entire attention, he says softly, “I want to hear everything. Please, baby.”

I could suggest that we go up to his apartment. I stayed there a couple of days while waiting for New Year’s so I know where it is. We’d have more privacy there, but the garage is empty, and the way he’s using a pet name on me has me melting already. He wants to hear all the bloody details on how I took down the prophet who fucked up his life.

I’m happy to oblige.

“You did it in front of Emily? And my dad?”

“I picked him out on purpose,” I admit. “The guy looked like an older version of you, only more… pinched.” I wrinkle my nose. “I figured he had to be your dad. It was just a touch of poetic justice that he was in the room when I pulled the trigger. Same as how it was that dickhead’s office where it all went down. I saw the gold altar. I knew the diamond cross would be in there. It saved me time trying to figure out where to find it, but I knew I had to give it to you.”

And that’s not all…

Luca rubs his thumb over the cut gems. “Donovan is finally dead. Good fucking riddance, though I guess I’m not surprised I didn’t hear about it. That cult is so small, so secluded, they’re probably still gathered around his body, waiting to see if he’ll rise like Jesus.”

I shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe I told them that I’d come back with my C4 and blow the whole fucking church up if they even thought about retaliating.” With a laugh, I add, “It’s a lot easier to intimidate sheep than it is to e a Hummingbird among Sinners and Dragonflies, I’ll tell you that.”

He chokes. “You did that?”

“Sure did. Made sure to mention that anyone who already left that hellhole was off-limits, too. Especially you, ace.” I poke him in the chest. “Said the same thing to Emily. I killed her husband. Told her to find a new one, but she needed to stay away from mine .”

Luca winces at the mention of Emily, but his eyes are searching my face for some sign that I’m screwing with him by the time I’m done claiming him.

“You called me your husband?” he says softly.

I plan to make him my husband, too.

But, first?—

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out one back box, give it a shake, then shove it back into the pocket. “Hang on. Wrong box.” Dipping into the other pocket, I find the larger black box. “Ah. Here it is.” I toss it to Luca. “Something else for you, ace.”

“What is it?”

“Open it. You’ll see.”

He flips the lid, then pulls out the silver chain. Hanging off the end of it is a key completely different from the one he has on. It reminds me of the cheap, little metal key I got with this teen diary I bought from the dollar store a million years ago, only a little thicker.

He holds it up, a question written in every line of his face.

“I could say some sappy shit, like it’s the key to my heart. That’s not my style. I love you. I picked you. I’ll hunt you down if you try to leave me… and if you don’t know that means you own every part of my twisted soul, then I don’t know what to tell you. I could’ve killed you in five different ways before you even lied to me about your name, but I didn’t, and I should’ve known then that I was in over my head. It is what it is, and that means you’re mine.” I raise my eyebrows. “Right?”

His smile forms, a little goofy, and, fuck , I love it. “Right.”

Good. “Anyway… I know that key you wear means a lot to you. Now that we have the cross, I don’t see why you need to wear it anymore, so I got you a replacement.

“It goes to a safe deposit box. Since it looks like we’re sticking around in Springfield, I got one at the First Bank off Willow Ave. You’re not flashy enough to walk around with a six-inch diamond encrusted cross. With that devil on your arm, someone would have to be an idiot to try to rob you. But, way I figure it, you got used to wearing a key, and I’d rather it be one I gave you.”

“Kylie… I don’t know what to say.”

I meet his gaze, too cocky to allow myself to be rejected. “Then don’t say anything. But, if you would, swap it for the old one.”

Luca doesn’t even reach up to unclasp the chain he’s worn these last five years. Without breaking our stare, he grabs the chain. With a twist, it’s broken. The useless key to an altar states away skitters to the ground as he gently places the new chain with safe deposit key around his neck.

Once he has, I decide to go full hog. I might have said that I’m not about to say anything all that sappy, but I did. It was sappy and it was possessive, and it was perfect for that I’m about to do now.

I know which pocket has the other box. I grab it, and with a wink, I toss that one at Luca next.

“Another gift?”

Luca starts to tug on the top.

“Don’t open it yet,” I tell him.

He lets the lid close with a soft snap .

“Put it in your pocket.” I wait until he does, then I add, “Listen. I’m gonna fuck you one day. For real. The way you count it as fucking. See, now, that means I gotta marry you, ace. But just so that you don’t think I’m that fucked-up I’ll promise you forever just to get laid, that’s the ring I want.”

He pats his pocket. “You bought yourself an engagement ring?”

I shrug. “I know what I like. And I like you.”

Luca lifts his hand, cupping my cheek. “No. You love me. And I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you. I don’t just mean sex, either. I want you . You’re the most interesting girl I’ve ever met. You want to get on one knee? I’ll do it right now.”

I plant my hand on his chest. “Surprise me. When you’re ready… when you realize that I’m the type of woman who only commits once, and I fucking mean it when I say until death do us part… ask me then. I’m not in any rush. I’m not going anywhere, ace.” Going up on my tiptoes, I press my lips against his.

And then I smile.

“I’m yours. No chains required.”

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