Chapter 28
Bronte
It’s hard to leave Silver Pines Senior Living without slamming my fists into Bobby’s face.
My primary focus was getting Meirna out of there—away from him and my conniving mother—so that I could speak to her and divulge my plans for the next couple of days.
I have three more until New Year’s, when I give Meirna the option to divorce me and be legally single. And I’m not going to spend them having a pissing match with my brother, even though we have more than unresolved business between us.
Meirna isn’t his, will never be his, and he either accepts that and takes it up the ass.
Or I’m going to drag him through the media, throw his head through a wall, and permanently put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
We’ll see if Jolene and any of his other bitches want him then.
“I’m fine,” Meirna rebukes in the backseat as I run my fingers down the softness of her upper arm again, looking for bruising or any marks that Bobby may have left. “I’m not a collector’s piece, Bronte.”
“No,” I agree, finding nothing but kind of wishing for something so I can just kill Bobby altogether. “You’re irreplaceable, however.”
Meirna scoffs lightly, clearly not used to being coddled, not that she needs to be. “He didn’t hurt me. It was just a flex.”
Doesn’t matter.
It still doesn’t stop the murderous adrenaline coursing through me. The things he was going to use her for and ruin everything she’s ever accomplished in her life.
His life is fucked, so he was going to draw my woman at his side with him. There’s nothing she has that’s going to be able to bring her back up again.
Besides me.
Bobby touched what was mine, again, and still thinks—despite everything he knows—that he’s still going to marry her. I don’t know if he’s that fucking desperate or stupid, but the reality remains the same.
Meirna is my fucking wife.
My fucking life.
My fucking issue.
And no one touches what’s mine.
“I’m just trying to calm myself down,” I answer honestly. “There’s nothing more that I’d like to do right now than go back and make him disabled for life.”
Meirna surprises me and reaches for my hand that’s still running lines across her skin. “Stop it. There’s no need for it.”
“There’s definitely a need. I didn’t want to do it in front of you.”
“Why? Do you think I’ve never seen a fight before?”
“Not my kind.”
“Mhm.” She laces her fingers with mine, and the action simply steadies my pulse. “Tell me what you’ve been doing since you dropped me off from Prague. You’ve texted, but it’s been vague and all about what I’ve been doing.”
“You’re more interesting.”
“And you’re evading.”
“I’m not.” I lift her hand and press a kiss to the top. “But it’s not the kind of news you tell someone over the phone.”
“News?” she repeats. “Do you have another brother?”
“No. The world has enough on its plate to have a third of me.”
“Don’t I know it,” she mutters. “It’d be a damn pandemic.”
I fix her with an impressed stare. “Two of me fucking you would be a fantasy, Daydream. I know how you think and operate.”
She rolls her eyes purely for the fact that she wants to show me it’s not something that would make her come twice as hard. “Love to see that you’re still humble after forty-eight hours.”
“Well, I put my fair share in. I went to Chicago. And paid a visit to Franco Giordano.” I feel Meirna freeze underneath my palm, and her skin pales. “You’re off the table. Whatever ties you had with Bobby and his dealings, it’s over.”
“Over?” she whispers. “Did I have many?”
“One is too many.” She remains still and quiet, mulling over information she doesn’t have and can only imagine. “I handled it, Daydream. You’re no longer linked to anything regarding Bobby anymore.”
“How? What did you do?”
“Threatened him.” Meirna’s face appears defeated even though I’m giving her good news.
Nonetheless, organized crime doesn’t abide by rules and laws, but they do listen when you have more power or money to throw at it.
“Bobby sent him a text message the day we were leaving Prague, promising the money he owed. He was going to steal the million I gave you for your nonprofit.”
“How?”
Good, now she’s mad.
It’s easier to swallow for me when she doesn’t look like she’s about to cry or scared to death of the repercussions of things she didn’t do.
“Not entirely sure,” I reply. “But I’m sure he could figure it out.”
“What makes you think he still won’t?”
“I have millions in droves, Daydream. However, I needed to make it perfectly clear to Giordano that any money coming from Bobby that had my name on it would be his funeral.”
“Bronte,” Meirna warns, giving my hand a squeeze. “Please don’t tell me you’re capable of murder or—”
“Not for money, no. For you, yes.”
She tosses over an exasperated look. “Stop it.”
“Telling you the truth? Or having meetings with the mob?”
“The mob, of course,” she immediately replies. “The truth always.”
“Then the truth is that I didn’t want you, in any way, thrown into danger.
That I have the means to stop Giordano if he decides to mess with me and mine.
I’m never going to stand by and wait for someone to do something.
He needed to be brought up to date on what was happening because I know Bobby won’t tell him the truth. ”
“I don’t want…” She trails off, and I’d give my whole fortune to know what runs through her head. How she feels about everything and anything.
As much as I know her, she’s still a mystery to me on some things.
“If you’re concerned about my well-being, I’m not.”
“I am,” she clips back, a bit of anger edging her tone. “You don’t just walk up to a mob boss and demand things.”
“And you’ve met many?”
She scowls at me. “Bronte, I don’t care how much money you have. It doesn’t give you a free pass to not be killed.”
“The Giordano mob is a dying breed anyway.”
“You still said the word mob in that sentence.”
My lips coil into a mindless smirk. “Fuck me, is that you caring about me, Daydream?” Her death stare deepens, but she doesn’t confirm it.
She doesn’t need to.
I’m growing on her, whether she likes it or not, and I’m not slowing down.
I’m only going to amp it up.
“The meeting ended in a mutual understanding,” I prompt to ease some of her anxiety. “If it doesn’t, we’ll own a few businesses in Chicago.”
“Why would you want a few businesses in Chicago?”
I notice her separating us as a couple in that sentence, and it beats my ego. “Because it’ll put the Giordano mob out of business and, if your little heart desires, you can build whatever you want.”
“I know nothing about Chicago, Bronte.”
“Wanna go?”
“No.”
She’s mad.
Irritated at me because I’m dealing with criminals and throwing my weight around.
And that makes my dick hard.
“I need you to do me a favor, Daydream.”
“You want me to do you a favor when you’re killed? I didn’t plan on being a widow before thirty.”
“Your birthday is in three days before you potentially divorce me.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “What is it, Bronte? You really are a pain in the ass.”
I can be that, too.
“I was wondering if you’d come to Boston with me.
Meet my family.” Her features soften, but no words come out to play.
It’s a big step, one I know that’s important, but it’s one I’d like to take so Meirna can see what kind of life she’d be having if she decided to stay with me.
“My mother and sister know I married you; they’re furious.
I was hoping you could distract them with your warm personality and get them to forget I married you without them being there. ”
Meirna promptly looks intrigued. Probably by my getting into shit with the two predominant, up until recently, females in my life. “How much trouble are we talking here?”
“The rest of my life. Constant reminders. Guilt trips galore.”
She smiles. “I think I like that.”
“This isn’t the time to team up against me.”
“Why?” she presses. “It sounds like an amazing one to me.”
Dragging her hand back to my lips, I press another kiss to her skin but warn, “I’m petty, Daydream. We’re a team. I’d like us to stay that way.”
She watches me as I compress my lips to her flesh again and says dazedly, “You wouldn’t want me to get along with your family?”
“They’ll love you. But three of you on me, I might go visit that mob again and beg for them to off me.”
She laughs softly. “When do you leave?”
Dropping her hand, I slide mine between the seat and her body, scooping her up and forcing her thighs to straddle my lap.
Then I attack.
Tickling and extorting laughs from her throat as she tries to shove my hands away left and right.
I don’t stop until she’s begging for me to. Until she’s bowed over and trying to wrestle my fingers for some power to get me to cease hitting the spots that make her squirm and giggle.
“Alright, alright,” she pleads through fits of laughter. “When?”
“Tomorrow morning.” I stop tickling her and ground my palms on her hips to keep her on me. “I’ll drive us there.”
“And how long…are we staying?” She’s trying to catch her breath, and I love how she hasn’t tried to get off me.
“I was hoping until New Year’s. My sister and mother always make a huge dinner on New Year’s Eve. You being there might shave off a few years of them griping at me.”
“I dunno,” Meirna drawls. “I like the idea of you being harassed from time to time.”
I lift my shoulders. “That’s fine, Daydream. But when I get off the phone with them and I’m agitated, I’m fucking you until I feel better. Either way, I’m going to get something out of this one way or another.”
Meirna lifts her chin. “If we’re still together.”
“Married or divorced is just a legal term. You being mine is a forever one.”
“And if I don’t want to be yours?”
With my free hand, I reach for her chin, placing my fingers along her jawline, but don’t squeeze. “I’m not above kidnapping, as we well know. However, I’d like to do this the normal way.”
“Are you capable of such a feat?”
“Depends on whether you’re giving us a fair chance.”
“I am,” she says simply. “It’s just…a lot…fast.”
“I understand.”
Meirna presses her lips together, still keeping eye contact with me when she finally says, “Okay, I’ll go with you to Boston.”