15. June
June
“Dude, but have you had the Thai over on Front Street?” Magnus asks Simon.
Simon scoffs. “It’s good but nothing compared to over on Ballard and Hazel.”
“Bullshit.” Magnus wraps his arms around my shoulder and tugs me toward him, almost like a natural reaction he doesn’t even realize he’s doing while he’s so lost in the conversation of who knows where the best food is with Simon.
It’s kind of strange how well they get along considering they hate each other.
But the more they talk, the more they have in common. Their interests align with food, business, and women.
Okay, maybe not women, but woman. Singular.
I’ve never asked about any of the guys’ exes. I haven’t wanted to know. Because no matter how much I pretend I wouldn’t care, I’d compare myself to each and every one of them. It’s basic human fucking nature, and I want no part of it.
I’m already in my head enough about their feelings for me, I don’t need that to add to the insecurities, too.
Sarah…heart emojis.
I should have heard Simon out when he tried to explain who she was, but I didn’t want to know that either. I shouldn’t be possessive over him, or remotely jealous of some other woman having his attention, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.
Maybe it’s because Simon and I have evolved from enemies to friends; our forced relationship molding us into some weird, platonic relationship. But is that all these feelings are? Platonic? A friend caring about another friend?
Simon steals a glance at me, a smile on his face as he talks to Magnus. He winks at me and turns his attention back to Magnus.
That flutter in my chest telling me otherwise about my friendship theory.
We’re both aware this can be nothing more. It’s forbidden—practically fucking borderline illegal. Dominic and Coen would decapitate us if we even thought about it. Magnus, on the other hand, might be down. Still, there’s no way the other two would be.
The door to the garage opens and my heart completely comes to a stop.
Dominic and Coen, speak of the fucking devils, walk through the door, blood and gore covering their bodies.
I slide off the stool at the kitchen island and rush over to them, not sure which one to focus on.
“What happened?” I stare between them.
Coen is shirtless, but wearing what looks like a bulletproof vest. At least he's fucking careful. But there's white gauze wrapped around his forearm with a center of red.
I press my hand on Dom’s chest to confirm he’s wearing a vest, too. “Are you okay?”
Dom nods but doesn’t hold my gaze. Instead, he looks to Magnus. “I thought everyone would be in bed by now.”
I snap my fingers in his face. “Hello, I’m right here.”
“I, uh—” Coen starts. “I’m going to get some sleep.” He points to the stairway past me.
I raise my arm and stop him. “Not until someone tells me what’s going on.”
“June.” Dominic sighs. “Can we not do this tonight?”
I cross my arms. “Then when? Huh? You mean tomorrow morning, when you sneak out of the house before I wake up? Or maybe when you come home after I’ve gone to sleep?
All you do is avoid me. You don’t respond to my texts; you don’t bother to call.
You make plans with me and miss them, knowing damn well how important it was to me that we spent some time together.
Listen, I’m trying to be fucking patient here—be the understanding girlfriend to the big bad mafia man, but you’ve got to give me something Dom, a fucking crumb to signal that you still care. ”
Dominic’s jaw clenches, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think his eyes were glistening. But I do know better—and Dom is fucking heartless. His emotions are reserved for being a merciless psychopath with only his endless pursuit of ambition on his mind.
He doesn’t give a shit about me, and he continues to make it known each day as he pushes me farther away. And when he looks away, his feet taking him around my body and toward the stairway, my concerns are proven correct.
If that's how he wants to be, two can play this fucking game.
Dom leaves the room, Coen’s eyes unsure of where to focus.
I sigh and glance up at him. My sweet, tortured boy with blood all over him. “Let me guess,” I tell him. “You’re not allowed to say anything.”
“I’m sorry, J.” His apology is so genuine it makes me want to hug him and never let him go.
I reach up and run my thumb along his cheek. “I know, Co.”
He turns toward me, leans down, and kisses my forehead. “Give him a week, okay? We’ll come clean then.” Coen flits his gaze toward Magnus. “Right?”
Magnus nods. “Promise.”
At least two of my men don't completely want to keep me on the outs. How is it that Simon is so unaware of what's going on? He'd tell me without question, not giving a shit what Dominic or any of the guys had to say. He’s always been honest with me—in the ways that matter. He recognizes how hurt I’ve been by them shutting me out, there’s no way he would withhold information if it meant my unhappiness.
But I guess that’s the difference between Simon and the rest of the guys.
Simon understands the darkness within and doesn’t deny that part of me.
No, he helps me embrace them and nurtures those illicit tendencies.
Simon isn’t a good guy by any means—he’s no hero.
He’s the villain who extends his hand and guides me into the depths of my deepest desires, even when they’re twisted and sinister as fuck.
I knew it from the moment he brought me my abuser and was willing to cut his fucking heart out just because I asked if it was possible.
He proved in that moment he would do anything for me, no matter how fucking insane, and has only continued to with each moment we spend together.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask Coen.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “I’ll be fine.”
“Get some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow.” I stand taller and press my lips to his. “Thanks for texting me back earlier.”
Dominic is old as fuck, but it only takes two seconds to respond. If Coen can do it in the condition he’s in, there’s no reason Dom shouldn’t have been able to, too.
Coen heads out of the room, and I go back over to Magnus and Simon. They both stand there like they’re waiting to get in trouble. A house full of feared mafia men and not a single one of them will look me in the fucking eyes. If I had it in me, I’d yell boo just to see if they’d jump.
“A week?” I state.
Magnus bobs his head up and down, finally meeting my gaze. “Not a moment longer.”
“Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.” I pause and add, “Or something like that.”
“On that note, I’m gonna go," Simon announces and slaps Magnus on the shoulder. "Glad I'm not in the dog house with ya.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “It can be arranged.”
Simon winks at me again. “Have to be in the house before I can be thrown out.”
"Something will change in a week’s time. Either way, you'll know the truth, and we'll all live happily ever after, or the three of us will run away together." Magnus shrugs. "It's a win-win in my book.”
“Wait.” I chuckle. “Us three?” I motion between us and Simon.
Simon raises his brow and cocks his head to the side. “I’m down.”
Is that a flicker of hope I spot on his face?
Dominic and Coen will snuff that out quicker than they can pull a hairpin trigger.
Magnus shrugs. “Why not?” His question comes out a bit rhetorical.
“Okay, before I wake up from this dream, I really am leaving.” Simon points to me. “I’ll see you bright and early, love.”
“Bright maybe, but not early.
“Don’t worry, I won’t wake you.” Simon walks backward toward the door. “I’ll just watch you like a serial killer while you sleep.”
“Oh, that’s not creepy at all.”
Simon slips out the door and leaves me and Magnus behind.
Magnus rubs my shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.” He pulls me toward him and buries me in his chest, his arms holding onto my body tightly. “Man, I love you so fucking much.” He kisses the top of my head over and over.
“So much you’re willing to suffocate me?” I say into him while enjoying every second of it.
He releases me but only slightly. “Is that better?” Magnus tilts my head up toward him and finds my mouth with his. He swirls his tongue around mine and ignites a fiery passion within me.
I deepen the kiss as he tangles his hands in my hair.
Magnus pulls away, his breath lingering with mine. “You should get some sleep, princess.”
“Actually…” If he’s insisting on going to bed, I have something else in mind. “I think I’m going to torture Dom.”
"Yeah? That sounds fun." Magnus yawns. "Will you film it for me so I can watch it in the morning?"
I laugh and give him a quick peck on the lips. “The things I have in mind shouldn’t be recorded.”
“You’re really making me wish I wasn’t dragging ass right now.” He rests his chin on top of my head. “I could make coffee. You could tape my eyes open.”
I spin out of his grasp, latching onto his hand and pulling him toward the stairs. “Let’s get you to bed, sleepy boy.”
His tattooed arm reels me back into him, his body pressing against mine as we make our way toward the stairs. “Will you tuck me in?”
“I’d have it no other way.”
I finish with Magnus, quite literally nudging him onto his mattress and bringing his blanket up to him. His eyes close the second his head hits the pillow, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had fallen asleep before I even got to the edge of his room.
I tiptoe the long hallway to Dom’s room, entering without permission, and going straight into the bathroom where the water is running.
Despite the elaborate and expensive house, the door creaks when I push it open.
I drag my shirt over my head and drop it to the floor, the steam in the room kissing my bare breasts. Yanking down my bottoms, I kick them off and leave them in the pile with the rest of our clothes.
“What are you doing, June?” Dominic asks me as I approach.
“Whatever I want.”
He might want nothing to do with me, but I don’t ignore the twitch of his cock upon seeing my naked body.
Dom rinses the rest of the shampoo out of his hair and turns toward me.