Chapter 8
Eight
Dante
I didn’t think we would see her again. Fuck. I thought for sure she was cast to the wind. I knew before I opened my eyes this morning, she was not in bed with us. It’s like a part of me could feel she was gone. When I finally did open my eyes, the sight of her tanned skin and dark hair over white sheets not filling my vision drove me to drive a fist into the nearest wall.
We all showered and downed coffee for breakfast in silence. The whole time Con made arrangements for our trip back to Seattle I plotted on how to track her down, but how the fuck do you track down a ghost? It’s not like this place has cameras in their hallways or suites and none of us thought of taking a picture. I didn’t expect her to just be… gone.
With all the phone calls in and out, Con failed to hear her message come through until it was nearly time to depart The Society. It had to be three in the afternoon by then.
When he found it and read her words aloud, I fell to my knees with a prayer of thanks on my lips. We had a way of reaching her. That one-liner linked us to the woman I was not ready to let go of yet. If ever. I am not a man of faith but for a moment this morning, I found some while I was on my knees.
One taste of her didn’t feel like nearly enough and I know my brothers feel the same way I do. They don’t have to say it for me to know.
Feeling like I drank gasoline for breakfast, I force myself to calm down or risk exploding with the shit show of emotions swarming my insides. I scrub a palm over my mouth and let out a pent-up breath.
We’ve been here once. In love and ready to fucking burn the world down for a woman. But that was a couple of years ago. I never wanted to feel those ties again. And now this petite spitfire with thousands of emotions swimming in her eyes and lighting my world—our world—on fire stirs needs in me I wish I could kill off.
Love. Is it possible? Fuck no.
Con shifts in the seat beside me and pulls back the coat we draped over her slight frame. She is still wearing the clothes from last night and the evening air holds a chill.
“She is sleeping.”
I hold her to me as we ride back to the city. Our driver pulls through airport security and Bastian steps out to take care of our paperwork. Before leaving, we grabbed her shoulder bag from her car. She had a couple of suitcases not filled with much, but we brought those too. The Society promised to move her car and store it for us until we are ready. Con rifles through her bag and takes out her ID.
“Laila Romano of Seattle, Washington.” Bastian knocks on the window and Con passes it to our brother.
Silence.
I can’t believe we took her, all fucking three of us, and we didn’t even ask for her full name.
My gaze meets Con’s with the same question he’s thinking. “Romano as in that Romano family?”
He shrugs. “That is a good question to ask when our sleeping beauty wakes.”
A few minutes later we pull into a private hangar and board our jet. It’s not billionaire-status-sized yet, but we are getting there. One ladder rung at a time.
I settle her in the single room in the rear of the jet before joining my brothers by the bar. They are thrown in the seats with vodkas in their hands. I grab one for myself. Since this was a last-minute flight, we didn’t bother booking a stewardess service.
“What do you think happened?” I ask after we all have a minute to digest the last hour. Hell, the last day. We were on our way out of the Society and back to the airport when we saw Laila pull up to the gate. None of us were sure it was her until the guard pulled his flashlight and shined it on her face.
Red eyes and tears. I’ve only felt this helpless once in my life. My fucking bleeding heart fell to the gravel driveway and died at the sight of her emotionally torn up. I jerked the door open, took her in my arms and I kept her there until just a few minutes ago. I eye the back of the plane wondering if I should go to her.
“Let her be for a moment, brother. She knows we are near.”
Pressure builds in my chest. I drop my elbows to my knees and force myself to breathe through the need to touch her.
I swing my gaze to Con’s and we stare at each other for a moment.
“I feel it too, moy brat. I feel it too. But we need to talk.”
I slowly nod my head. “ Da, moy brat. But let’s make it quick. She needs us. And we need answers.”
“I doubt she will talk to us if we pressure her. For now, she needs somewhere safe. We can at least provide that for her until she is ready and then we can send her to where she wants to go.”
Never. She’s never leaving my side. Fury and rage roll over me and I can’t seem to rein it back. Con watches me but wisely says nothing. His gears are turning though. He’s thinking the same damn thing I am. How do we keep her without getting too attached?
Simple. We don’t.
“Are any of you terrified that we took her bare last night?” Bastian lowers his weight into a chair opposite Con and me. The aisle isn’t large but big enough to where we can stand and walk without hitting one another.
“Yes.” Con is direct.
I consider my answer as the captain’s voice comes over the speaker and announces take off. In less than five minutes we taxi out to the runway and climb into the dwindling light. New Orleans fades into the darkness but the secrets it holds from us are anything but disappearing.
Something happened tonight and I want to know what. “We can’t help her until we know what happened. Let’s start there.”
Con scrubs his face and Bastian clanks that fucking ring of his against his glass. It’s like nails over a chalkboard. My knee bounces and I’m ready to bury knuckles into teeth.
Metal clanks against glass again and again until Con throws a hand out and knocks him on the shoulder.
“For fuck’s sake stop, asshole.”
I pull my hair back and pin it to the base of my skull out of the way in case this turns into a brawl at forty thousand feet. I pull the blade I keep tucked into the back of my belt and start flipping it between my fingers. Cool steel over flesh soothes me.
“I don’t know if I can do this again.”
I sip my drink and consider Bastian over the rim. “A little late after the fact, brother.”
“The two of you shut the fuck up. You heard her. She’s on the pill. But Bastian is right. We need to find somewhere for her where she will be safe. But not with us. I refuse to go through it again. I can’t.”
Determination etches deep into the creases of Con’s forehead. He’s wanted a family for so long. We all have. And once upon a time, we had it. Until a blade was driven into our backs.
“I just can’t.”
He sounds haunted, but I’ve long ago released the ghosts that still cling to my brother.
He’s speaking of Melody—the bitch who climbed into our bed, fucked us, stole from us, passed our secrets to the enemy, and then got knocked up with his baby. She actually tried to pass it off as ours. For a while, I felt sorry for us. But now I just feel sorry for the child in the middle of a mafia war he was born into.
The night we dropped Melody from our lives was the night we all agreed there would be no more women between us. Not until we could sacrifice the time and energy it will take to find someone we could all share.
“Melody was not pregnant with our child. We all know she cheated on us. But that doesn’t mean every woman is like her. Laila…seems different.” I pick my words carefully. “And I’m not talking about instant love with Laila. I’m talking about keeping her close, protecting her. The rest we can see about.”
Bastian and Con look torn. They like Laila, but Melody worked them over. They loved her. I mean actually fucking loved the woman so much they would have fallen on swords for her. I was neither here nor there for her. I went along with the plan because it made my brothers happy.
“Good sex is one thing,” Bastian counters with a straight face. “Stop thinking with your dick and face reality. We don’t know her. Yet.”
He’s doing a shitty job of hiding the need to go to her too. His knee is about to take off with how damn hard he is bouncing it.
“Who are you trying to convince? It sure as shit isn’t me. By the way, how did my dick taste in your mouth?” We don’t look at pleasure as having lines. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fuck with him. I level a hard glare across the aisle. His fist knots up and I know we are about to test our fighting skills in tight quarters when we hear a door creak open.
“You two shelve your sour-ass attitudes for another time. We’re landing soon and she’s waking up.”