Chapter Sixteen #2
“You don’t have to tell me this, Karina,” I said gently, regretting the last four minutes of my life. I had been so rough with her…disgust pooled in my gut, hatred for myself becoming stronger than ever before.
“I have to. I—I want you to know.”
“Angel, you –"
“It was before I met you, right after Dean left Gwen to play for the Cubs. God, she was a mess. She only wanted to party and drink. She lost herself, and I let her. I blamed myself for her heartbreak, since I was the one who told her to go for it when Dean made the first move. Jer was the one who always brought us back when we would drown our sorrows,” she said, chuckling slightly.
Nothing about this was funny, but I held my tongue.
The mention of her brother had my chest hurting, but I refrained from rubbing the spot.
Goddammit.
I closed my eyes, needing to get my shit together. The night of the Gala years ago, I had only one regret, and that was hurting her…
Almost six years ago. The St. Louis Art Gala
“Leave us,” Cal Matthews, my boss, ordered.
I looked at Gwen Davenport one more time. She was being held back by two guards, her teeth bared, threatening me. I smiled and waved my fingers. Good riddance.
Shutting the door behind me, I went in search of Kevin.
He was nowhere to be found and that pissed me off.
As I cut through hallways, my eyes scanned for the idiot.
Most likely, I would find him with his cock shoved between some random bitch’s legs.
I rolled my eyes, because even when he looked like shit, Kevin Matthews could still get laid.
What a cunt.
Beating his ass two days ago on the field apparently didn’t teach him his lesson. He was so ungrateful, a silver spoon fed brat blind to the amazing life he was given. There was no point in going back down to the Gala, because he avoided that area like the plague. My cell phone rang in my pocket.
“What?” I barked, heading through the kitchen. The staff bustled round me, steering clear. Smart move.
“The body has been dumped, sir.”
Jeremy Jones.
I stabbed him about half an hour ago on the edge of the dance floor while Gwen danced with Ray Romano.
“That was fast,” I remarked, shoving my way out the back door of the building. I was greeted with the humid night air. Summer was just around the corner, which meant I would be back in Chicago overseeing drug runs and taking protection fees.
“Does the boss need anything else?”
I remained silent as I lit a cigarette, heading to my car. “No, the boss wants us back at the house until further instruction.”
“Yes, sir.”
I tucked the phone back into my pocket and puffed my cig.
This was a new habit for me, but it was something I needed to take the edge off.
Things were getting stressful within the ranks, so it was either smoking or killing everyone.
When my car came into view, so did something else.
A blonde angel was leaning against the hood of my Audi, her blue eyes shining with anger, dressed in all black.
“Karina,” I greeted coolly, flicking the butt onto the street.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, keeping her face neutral.
I pointed my thumb back in the direction of the museum. “I was here to pick up Kevin, but he seemed to have bounced already.”
Why in the fuck was I still lying to her?
She nodded and clicked her tongue. “Yeah, I can’t blame him for that. Considering you nearly killed him on the field two days ago,” she snapped. She moved, but I held her eyes, only her eyes.
“He had it coming,” I said, clenching my jaw.
“Col,” she gasped, her blue eyes going wide.
Fuck. That damn nickname. I shook it off. It was something of the past. Col wasn’t a part of my future.
“Don’t call me that,” I said, brushing past her. Her vanilla scent followed, a sweet form of the purest torture.
“Don’t fucking walk away from me,” she said. I felt her coming up behind me, and I spun, getting right in her face.
“Walk away, Karina. Right now,” I warned.
Her eyes filled with tears—not from sadness, but from anger. It wasn’t a sign of weakness. No, my angel was strong, too damn strong and I fucking hated it, I was weak in comparison.
I was weak because I didn’t have the balls to hurt her or break her.
Even though I just stabbed her brother, I never wanted her to know it was me. It was foolish, wishful thinking. She would find out; she always did. I would hurt her then, and the knowledge of that would be enough. Enough for my angel to finally hate me.
“Don’t fucking lie to me anymore! I know about the bug you planted in Gwen’s apartment. Did we mean nothing to you? Was it all just a fucking…” She trailed off, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand and looking away from me.
My chest ached. I hated that too.
“Walk away before I'm forced to do something I don’t want to,” I said, stepping back from her, the evening breeze hitting her from behind, making her high, blonde ponytail come over her shoulder.
She was too beautiful for words, and too good for me.
My angel tilted her chin to me. “I fucking dare you,” she seethed, pulling a gun out from behind her. I smirked.
My strong, fearless woman, not backing down from me.
My Karina.
“I don’t have time for games, Karina.”
She laughed. “Says the man always playing them.”
“Goodnight, Karina,” I said, before getting into my car.
I peeled away from her, pressing on the gas and shifting gears, leaving a piece of heaven behind.
Present Day. Boston, MA.
Later, I would find out that Jeremy Jones survived, as well as Gwen and Dean. The only one who didn’t survive that night was Cal Matthews.
My fingers reached out, playing with the ends of her hair as I came back to the present, wanting to be there for her.
“One night, she wanted to hit up a frat party. I told her it wasn’t really my scene.
I didn’t like Greek Life, and it was one of the reasons I chose to go to school online.
But I wasn’t going to let her alone. One hour into the party, I was standing in line for the bathroom, the only bathroom downstairs.
Non-Greek life students weren’t allowed upstairs.
Anyways, the next thing I knew, this guy slammed into me from behind, knocking me into the person in front of me.
It was a fucking mess, but the guy put his hands on me, and at the time I thought he was just trying to steady himself. ”
Her voice began to shake. “Col, he bumped into me on purpose. He marked me as the target by doing that.”
A growl formed in my throat, my fingers dropping from her hair.
Blood. I needed it. I needed to hear the cries of those spineless men.
She kept her eyes on the Boston skyline.
“Later that night, I finally convinced Gwen we needed to go home. We called Jer and left. It didn’t happen until a week later. They had been following me. They knew where I lived, and when I came back from work one night, they were waiting for me.”
“Stop,” I begged, my stomach souring as images of her flashed in my mind.
She turned to me, tears falling down her face, she didn’t bother to hide her pain from me, she was letting me see it, and I was grateful—honored. My chest ached again, but my body was shaking in anger, my jaw jumping as I tried to keep my fucking shit together.
“I moved apartments after that, started picking up bar, shifts at my uncle’s bar. I moved into a nice neighborhood that was way too expensive for me, because the building had security,” she explained, looking at her feet.
She was trying to shake this off, as if it wasn’t important.
I stepped towards her then, not stopping until her back was against the window. My hand slid to her chin, taking it between my fingers. Those eyes were avoiding mine, looking everywhere but me.
“Look at me,” I ordered. My voice wasn’t soft or quiet. The anger inside me was dangerously close to boiling over, and I didn’t have the strength to conceal it from her.
She had seen me at my worst, bathed in blood.
“Col…”
“Now!” I barked. She flinched but complied.
“Give me the names.”
“I can’t—
“You will, or I will burn that entire city to the ground.” It would be up in flames by the time the sun rose, Arch and all.
Her eyes widened as her mouth opened and closed.
“That day in the lobby. That was one of them?” I pressed, hating myself for not chasing after her, grabbing her, seeking out revenge in her name.
“I was there for an interview,” she explained. “I didn’t know that he worked there, I was there for an internship. He works for his father—who the internship was under.”
I remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
A sigh escaped her. “I had only applied for two internships, and I didn’t think my applications would get anywhere.
When I got the call for the interview, I was so excited.
Sullie and Jer were thrilled. Then, I showed up and saw him.
He cornered me in an elevator, panicking because he thought I was there to go after him.
Then, he hit me. People don’t want to believe good boys rape poor girls. But—"
“Enough,” I hissed, leaning in closer. “I want names. Nothing else that comes out of your mouth matters until you give me the list.”
“Kiss me.”
Fuck. That mattered.
“Karina.”
“Kiss me, and I’ll tell you,” she begged, panic present in those sky-blue eyes. She would never have to beg me for long. I would give anything, do anything, for her. It scared the shit out of me, and nothing about this made sense, but right now, it didn’t have to.
She was the only thing I needed. More than air.
My lips collided with hers, delivering a harsh, painfully quick kiss.
As I began to pull away, her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me back.
A groan escaped me as I gave her what she wanted.
Consuming, possessing, demanding, claiming.
Mine. Mine. Mine. She kissed back with desperation and when her whimper filled my ears, I pulled away, resting my forehead against hers.
“I'm going to kill them all,” I growled, my hands squeezing her waist.
“I know,” she breathed. “I know you will.”
I looked into her eyes. “No one will ever get the chance to hurt you again. Do you understand me? You have my protection.”
She crumbled then, her knees giving out. My arms banded around her as her hands clung to my shirt, her tears soaked my chest. She let out a strangled cry.
That was it.
I didn’t belong to anyone but her. I would serve her. No one else.
I would give her an empire, his empire. But first…
“The names, Karina,” I growled.
“Thomas Smith, Chase Matten, and Gary Danes,” she replied thickly.
“Danes?”
“Yes.”
I tipped her chin up to me, meeting her eyes. “As in Danes Shipping?” I pressed.
Her brows came together for a second before shooting up in realization. “Yes, why?”
Danes Shipping was who the mafia had been using for the last fifteen years, their trucks ship alcohol, drugs, money, and if I had to guess…women and girls.
My hand snaked into her hair as the other grabbed her hip. “Thank you,” I said softly in an effort to cover up the roughness of my voice.
“For what?” she asked, looking up at me.
I swallowed, wondering how in the hell I got her. “For trusting me with this. For sharing your pain.” My throat felt thick with emotion, my voice rough as I tried to contain the one emotion I shouldn’t bottle up. Rage.
“I have wanted to tell you for years,” she whispered, her blue eyes wet with tears as she looked up at me.
My knuckle stroked her cheek.
“Does anyone else know?” She shook her head, and that frustrated me. “Karina, your family would've taken care of them. Those bastards would have already been dead.” It was the truth. Sullie Jones and his Crew would've strung them up like hogs and gutted them.
“I didn’t want to burden them.”
“You didn’t want to—”
She put her finger to my lips, silencing me.
My brows rose at the look on her face. Bravery. Determination. Strength.
“It was my problem to deal with, not theirs. I went to therapy for it, and after ten years, the only person I wanted to tell was you.”
She rested her cheek back on my chest, her arms wrapping around me. I looked out into the city, unsure of what to say. She began to hum a soft tune, and I swayed us. We sat in a new, comfortable silence as we processed everything.
“Are we really doing this?” she asked after a few minutes.
This. Such a small word that carried such a heavy burden.
“Define ‘this,’ angel,” I whispered, holding her tighter.
“Putting an end to Romano.”
I made a sound of agreement, because the words still tasted sour on my tongue. Aside from living on the street as a kid, the life of a killer was the only one that I have ever known. I was the person who spilled blood so it wouldn't stain Romano's suit.
“Col?”
Karina brought me back to the here and now, with her in my arms. The last few days had been so perfect. Too perfect. The darkness in me didn’t trust it—this feeling she created inside me.
“Hmm?”
“Take care of it for me,” she whispered.
“Of what?”
“My heart.”
Fuck everything else.
My lips collided with hers in that next instant, the urge to consume her whole possessing me.
She froze for a second—scratch that—half a second before she melted against me.
Her arms snaked up to my neck, pulling me closer to her.
My hands dropped to her ass, squeezed her flesh.
A groan came from me as the need to claim her became stronger.
Her lips fought against mine for dominance, and my tongue danced with hers, her taste overthrowing all other logic.
I pressed my aching erection against her, letting her know just fucking crazy she made me.
“Say ‘yes’ again for me, baby,” I demanded, trailing bites and kissed down the column of her neck. “Angel, give your demon consent.”
“Always,” she rasped, her nails gliding over my head. “Yes.”