Chapter 3
3
T he next day, there’s a giant display of flowers sitting on my desk when I get into my office. My stomach drops. Luke was gone when I got up again, and he hasn’t given me any indication that he’s changed his mind about breaking up. Why would he buy me flowers?
I circle the vase warily. This feels wrong the same way the ring—still on my finger—felt wrong. That doesn’t stop me from approaching and plucking the card from the arrangement. Before I can open it, I see something else. A little rectangle nestled into the petals of one flower. I pick it up and go cold.
It’s a bar of soap.
“Fuck.” I drop it onto my desk and pick up the card.
We’ll be using this later, dirty girl.
“In your dreams, asshole.” I will not be washing my mouth out with soap. Ever. I pick up the vase and drop it into the trash. The bar goes in after it, followed by the card. I shouldn’t be entertaining this guy, shouldn’t be accepting gifts from him, no matter how perfectly suited to me they are.
I grab the ring and try to pull it off, then whimper when fiery pain erupts. “What the fuck ?” I tug on it again and have to bite down a second whimper.
“Ruby?”
I drop my hand and straighten so fast, my head spins. “Oh, hi, Da.”
My fathers have similar coloring—dark hair and pale skin—but that’s where the similarities end. Dad is about my height. Da fills a doorway. He’s doing that right now, his dark eyes concerned. “Did you hurt yourself?”
I am not about to explain that I was trying to take off a ring that apparently has prongs set into it to prevent removal. I guess I know what’s special about it now. “No, not at all. Just tossing this in the trash.”
He eyes the flowers. “Trouble in paradise?”
I stare. He sounds almost... happy. But that doesn’t make sense. “I thought you liked Luke.”
“I do.” He shrugs, not even bothering to deny his tone. “He’s a good kid, but that’s the problem. He’s not like us. And you might be a pampered mafia princess, but you’re not like him either. It was never going to last.”
I stare. “But you’ve treated him like you’re ready to walk me down the aisle to him.”
“ You liked him. That was enough for us as long as he treated you well. You seemed happy enough.” Another shrug. “It’s all a father can ask for.”
Somehow I think Dad has a different standard. If Da gave Luke a fair chance, Dad never did. Not that he said much about it, but he doesn’t say much about anything. “Well, we broke up. He’s looking for another place right now.”
He walks to me and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you cared about him, even if he ultimately wasn’t a good fit. You’ll be okay in the end, though.”
I let myself sink into his hug. He has a way of wrapping me up that drowns out whatever has worried or scared or bothered me. It works now, too, beating back my conflicting feelings about my current situation.
It’s enough for me to take a deep breath. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Oh, that.” He gives me one last squeeze and steps back. “One of our guys was killed last night. Or the day before. Hard to say.”
A chill slides down my spine. “We’re not at war with anyone.”
“I know.” Da shrugs. “But people are going to people, and he was a mean motherfucker. He probably just pissed off the wrong person and they dealt with it. But he was one of ours so I’m looking into it.”
My mouth goes dry, but I can’t stop myself from asking, “Who was it?”
“I don’t think you’d know him, honey. It was Rafe, one of our newer enforcers.”
The timing seems suspicious in the extreme. I can’t remember the last time violence broke out in our territory, let alone murder. There are bar fights from time to time, but even the most trigger-happy of enforcers doesn’t go too far for fear of bringing the territory leaders down on their head.
A coincidence. Has to be a coincidence. I don’t know the name of the guy I fucked, but surely he’s not the same person. We were in neutral territory, so he could easily belong to any of the territory leaders. I didn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean much; I don’t interact with our enforcers.
I force a smile. “I’m sure you’ll find out what happened.”
“Sure will.” He pulls me into another hug. “If you want to move home?—”
“No, Da.”
“If you want to move home,” he repeats, “you know we have space for you. You don’t even have to stay in your old room. We have an entire empty wing that you could redecorate to your heart’s desire.”
If I do that, then it’s only a matter of time before Catalina starts pushing different partners on me. She’s been respectful since I started dating Luke, but I know she’d prefer me to be married to someone in the life and ideally popping out a baby or two as quickly as possible to secure the line of succession. If I move home, she’d take it as a signal that I’m ready to dance to my family’s tune. I love them, but I’m not doing that.
Not yet.
I still have life to live before I’m forced to take on that role. I’ve spent too much time in the past two years settling. But Da means well, so I just say, “I’ll think about it.”
“That means no.” He steps back but smiles as he says it. “It’s okay, honey. We’re here however you need us. And if Luke gives you any trouble, me and Dad will deal with it.”
Considering how they’d do that, I’m not giving them even the smallest excuse to step in. “I have it covered. It’s all being dealt with very politely.”
“Politely.” He snorts. “Then he’s not the one for you, Ruby. Any person worth having in your life will fight to stay there, even if it means fighting dirty.”
Dad would know. He and Da played all kinds of dirty to end up with Mom, but I heartily prefer not to hear that story. Again. He seems to realize it. His grin is almost sheepish. “If you need help with anything, just give us a call.”
“I will. I promise.” I give him one last hug, and then he leaves.
I barely wait for the door to close before I rush to my computer and log in to the family database. It’s a heavily encrypted monster of a program, with all the information one needs to run a criminal enterprise. Including our employee files.
It takes me thirty seconds to find the enforcer who was killed. Rafe. “Well... that’s not good.” I slump back in my chair, staring at the man I had sex with a few days ago. “A coincidence,” I murmur. My stalker is all bark and no bite. Surely he didn’t kill someone just because I fucked them. That would be...
Gods, I’m a monster. There’s no other explanation for the twin bolts of fear and desire that go through me at the thought. The feeling of pure power .
I shake my head, shrugging off the feeling. It’s not real. It’s not who I am. I may be a monster in my own way, but I’m not a murderer, and certainly not of someone who didn’t deserve it. Sure, Rafe was an enforcer, so he’s hardly a saint. Even in peaceful times, it’s not like we’re running a perfectly legal business. Which isn’t to say that he deserved to die, but he definitely wasn’t a civilian.
Now I’m talking myself in circles.
I pick up my phone and then set it down. “No, what am I doing? Engaging in this fucked-up game isn’t okay.” I need to pass this over to people who are more qualified than I am. It’s time to end things with the stalker. Except... No, this isn’t my fault. I may be a cheater, but I couldn’t have had any way of knowing what I did would lead to someone dying.
If this is my stalker’s doing.
“Only one way to find out.” It’s an excuse and not even a good one. I don’t care.
Do you know Rafe?
It barely takes him five seconds to respond.
Unknown
Don’t be a coward now, baby. What do you really want to ask me?
I glare at my phone. He’s so irritating .
Did you kill him?
Unknown
Your parents would have done the same thing if they saw his grimy hands all over their precious princess.
He’s not entirely wrong, and I hate him for it. My parents have a firm “no enforcers” rule. At least not for hookups. It complicates things, tempts people to think they’re outside the chain of command because they’re in my bed. A relationship is one thing, but for casual sex, the boundary is firm. I was never tempted to break it... until that night of acting wildly out of character.
You didn’t answer my question.
Unknown
What do you want me to say, baby? That I slit his fucking throat for touching what’s mine? That I’ll do the same to anyone else who puts their hands on you?
I shiver. He’s bluffing. He’s got to be... Except I don’t believe that, do I? I can’t tell what I’m feeling. It’s like my body and brain are at war. My brain is screaming that I’m playing with fire and the only way this ends is in pain and death. My body? It’s got its wires crossed.
Not sure what response you’re looking for with that dramatic proclamation. Do you want a cookie?
Unknown
Haven’t you figured it out yet, baby? I want YOU.
I come home to an empty apartment, but that’s nothing more than I expect. It’s become the usual these days. What isn’t usual is my ensuring there’s no stalker hiding in a closet before I drop my purse onto the kitchen counter and pour myself a strong glass of whisky. There’s a part of me that wants to keep my wits about me... but there’s a stronger part of me, buried deep, that wants an excuse to behave badly.
I don’t have to pretend I’m a good person who has the right priorities when I’m seven sheets to the wind. Whatever that fucking saying means.
I take my whisky and phone into the bathroom and set them on the counter. A long, scalding-hot shower does wonders on the knots forming between my shoulder blades. I’ll have to get a massage soon because there’s only so much I can do to combat the tightness on my own.
By the time I turn off the water and wrap a fluffy towel around my body, I’m feeling loose and somewhere in the vicinity of relaxed. Luke still isn’t home, so I drop the towel on the floor and stretch out on our bed. The sheets smell faintly of him, of us, and my guilt raises its irritating head.
The guilt’s also mixed up in frustration and shame and, yes, lust.
I don’t make a conscious decision to slide my hands over my warm, naked body, but the touch feels good, so I keep going. I have a lot of pent-up tension, and this is a surefire way to release some of it. I cup my breasts and pluck at my nipples. Warmth curls through me. Yes , this is what I need.
I tease myself, dragging my fingertips over my stomach to my pussy. I spread my legs and circle my clit lightly. Delicious tingles start low in my stomach. I want to take my time with this, to really work off my stress.
My phone rings.
I open my eyes. I’m not even sure when I shut them. “I should have put the damn thing on silent.” I ignore the call until it goes to voicemail... and then the phone immediately starts ringing again. “Motherfucker.”
I grab it with my free hand and curse even harder when I see UNKNOWN as the caller. Now’s the time to put my cell on silent or even turn it off. I don’t do either.
Instead I answer. “You’re interrupting.”
His slow chuckle makes things low in my stomach clench. I could pretend it’s because I’m still circling my clit, but that’s not entirely the truth. “Do you think you deserve an orgasm after how you’ve been acting, baby? Fucking mobsters and running your mouth every chance you get.”
I circle my clit faster. What the fuck is wrong with me that his almost-threats make this hotter? “As if you’re not just as bad as a mobster.”
“You’re right. I’m worse.” Another of those delicious low laughs. “Why don’t you let me fuck you instead? I’ll do a better job of it.”
My curtains are closed. There’s no way he should be able to see what I’m doing. He’s bluffing. “I’m not fucking myself.”
“Not yet,” he agrees easily. “Stop teasing that clit and give your needy pussy your fingers.”
Again, my fear rises. Again, it makes my desire deeper, hotter. “Are you watching me, Wolf?”
“Always, baby.”
Either he’s bluffing... or he’s got cameras in my room. It’s possible. Probable, even. He was here to leave the ring, so he had the opportunity. Bastard. “You’re a creep, you know that?” I put my phone on speaker and drop it onto the bed next to me. I could blame this on the whisky, but I’m barely buzzed. No, it’s danger I’m drunk on. “You want to fuck me, Wolf? Come do it.”
I roll over onto my stomach and knees, the new position putting my ass in the air. It feels extra vulnerable, which makes me work my clit harder. It’s not enough, but I knew it wouldn’t be. I slide two fingers into my pussy, almost shocked at how wet I am.
He hasn’t responded. I’ve startled him. Good .
My orgasm is close, flirting with the edges of my awareness.
“You want me to fuck you, Red?” His voice is different. Even more ragged. I think there’s an accent, but I can’t be sure. “You want me to give that pretty cunt all the things you’ve been too much of a good girl to ask for?”
I finger myself harder, faster. This isn’t real. He’s not here, for all that his presence saturates the room. “Big words for a guy who isn’t even in the room,” I gasp.
“Give your clit some love, baby.”
Without having any intention of obeying, my fingers move from my pussy to my clit. I’m so sensitized, it’s almost too much. “Fuck.”
“That’s right. Come for me, Red. Say my name when you do.”
I can’t give him that. I won’t . My orgasm rises and crests, and with my last little bit of willpower, I moan, “Luke!”
A beat of silence. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“Prove it.” I roll onto my back. It was a good orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. I’m not satiated in the least. My body is one throbbing knot of desire, and my fingers aren’t going to get the job done, no matter how many times I come. Damn it. I drag in a rough breath. “Did you put cameras in my bathroom, too, Wolf?”
He makes me wait for his answer. “No.”
I shouldn’t trust him, but strangely, I do. He hasn’t lied to me yet. “Goodbye.”
“Red.”
My finger hovers over the red button to hang up, but I hesitate. “What?”
“Let’s stop playing this coy shit. Friday. Eleven. The Broken Tree. The first guy who talks to you will be me. I want you in that bathroom with your skirt up and my cock buried inside you within five minutes.”
I can barely breathe. I may have fucked Rafe under nearly identical circumstances, but I could at least pretend I didn’t know he was a murderer. Wolf has blood on his hands, and he’s not even trying to convince me otherwise. “Now who’s playing coy? Friday is days away, and I just whetted my appetite. Who knows what I could get up to in the meantime.”
“You know what happens if you let someone else touch what’s mine.”
“You keep saying that as if I’m a sure thing. I’m not.” Probably.
He laughs harshly. “Yes, baby, you are. The only question remaining is how many people you’re going to get killed while you pretend otherwise.”
“I’m not meeting you.”
“See you Friday. And leave the panties at home.” He hangs up.
“Mother... fucker .” Am I breathless at his audacity or because the thought of obeying makes my pussy clench?
I don’t know.
The ache in my body only gets worse as I mentally play through the scenario he painted. Of his rough voice in my ear as he picks me up and sets me on the bathroom counter. Of his possessive touch as he flips up my skirt and fucks me like he owns me. I hate it and love it in equal measure, but it gets me so hot, I can barely stand it.
I spread my thighs wide. “If you’re watching, Wolf... enjoy the show.” I don’t stop for a very, very long time.