Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
ZOE
I’ve convinced Connor to let me return home, but as he glances around my apartment, he seems on the verge of changing his mind.
“Are you going?” I ask as he circles the living room.
“Are you in a rush for me to leave?” he returns.
“I need to shower and then work some more on my presentation. If you want to, you can call me later?”
He smiles. It makes him look his age, which is twenty-seven. Most of the time, he’s so serious that along with his dangerous reputation, he seems more than six years older than I am.
He strides over, taking my face in his hands. “Why don’t you pack your bag with some fresh clothes and come home with me?”
“I told you why. I want to see Rachel. She’ll come here, but she can’t come to your place.”
He takes a fistful of my hair into his hand. I want to stop him because it’s stiff and full of product, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him as he rubs it between his fingers, then uses it to pull my head back. He kisses my throat and then my mouth.
“Rachel’s fine, but no one else in here tonight. You hear me?”
“I’m not planning to have a party, C.”
“Not what I asked.”
His voice is so dominant. Shades of when we had sex earlier come rushing back. My pussy, which loves that side of him, throbs. Deep in my core I’m still wet from coming and from his cum inside me. A flush heats up my face for a moment as I lick my lips.
“What?”
“Nothing. I understand. Rachel’s the only C Crue-approved visitor tonight,” I say in a teasing voice.
He rubs a thumb over my bottom lip. “I know a girl who’s begging for a long, hard spanking.”
“I’m not.”
He gives my ass a slow squeeze. “Then be a good girl.” He kisses me one last time before walking to the door.
“Connor?”
“Yeah?” he asks, turning back.
“What are we doing? Is this a little bit of nothing? Or a little bit of something?”
“It’s something.”
I smile, happier than I should be. He’s dangerous and likes to order me around, which I know is something we’re going to clash over eventually. But I do want to mean something to him.
“I’ll see you,” he says as he leaves.
Rachel arrives with a bottle of gin and half a dozen limes.
“Do we need that many?” I ask, setting them on the counter.
She shrugs, getting glasses down from the cupboard. I wash a lime and cut it into wedges. She gets two glasses from the freezer and tonic from the fridge. In a ridiculously long pour, she half fills the two glasses with Bombay Sapphire.
“Jayzus, Rach.”
She coats each rim with lime juice before dropping a wedge in the glass and splashing some tonic over it. I pull my glass back before she heads to the couch with it. I add more tonic water and another squeeze of lime, knowing that bit of dilution may not be enough.
She sits on the couch and swirls the contents of her own glass, then takes two long swigs.
“All right,” I say, joining her on the couch. “Spill.”
“Nothing,” she says. “You’re the one who was snatched up by C Crue. Tell me.”
I wince and shake my head. She’s heard. Word’s out. “What are people saying?”
“That you’re Connor McCann’s property.”
I flush and lean back. “That’s a bit much.”
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“What do you mean? He took me. Literally took me.”
“So you said. And now? It’s done. You answered his questions, and it’s done?” she asks softly.
I look into my glass, take a long swig, and then continue to have a stare-down with the lime wedge.
“I don’t know.”
“If you’re with him, I won’t be able to come here. I won’t be able to see you at all. You get that, right?”
Tears sting my eyes. “It’s not easy to say no to him.”
“Meaning what? He raped you?” Her voice is suddenly hard.
I look at her sharply, finding a deadly expression on her face. “No. Definitely not.”
She exhales, the tension in her shoulders relaxing by a degree. “Good. For a minute, I thought I was going to have to find a way to kill him and that’s apparently not very easy to do.”
I smile. “Rachel,” I say, shaking my head.
“So tell me the truth. I know you’ve had a thing for him forever.”
“What?” I ask.
“You always asked more questions about him than any of the others.”
“He’s gorgeous, and he’s the leader. Of course I noticed him back then,” I say.
“Gorgeous? He’s all right,” she says, like it pains her to admit it.
“He’s gorgeous,” I say emphatically. “And he has a way of looking at me—like he’s hanging on my every word. No one’s ever listened to me like that before.”
“I have.”
“I meant, no guy.” I lean forward suddenly and hug her. We’ve been friends forever. We have been each other’s sister through the toughest times imaginable. I will not lose her over this, or anything. “I love you. Rach. We’ll find a way to hang out, no matter what happens.”
“Okay,” she says, but I can tell she’s skeptical.
Rachel hasn’t had much control over her life, so I don’t blame her for thinking she might lose me.
She lost her own mom. She swigs the last of the G and T and sets the glass on the coffee table.
“So you’re what—dating him? With his insane reputation with women? ”
“I guess? It’s hard to tell. He doesn’t exactly do the usual things.”
“Meaning?” she asks, and this time her tone is just curious.
“Meaning he doesn’t say what he’s thinking with regard to this thing between us. I just know that I’ll see him again.”
“What’s he like in bed?” she asks, a little challenge in her voice.
I’ve been with four guys. Rachel’s been with none. Unless you count the blowjobs she’s been regularly giving her fiancé at his insistence and with no reciprocation.
“He’s good,” I say, my face flaming.
She smiles and then laughs softly. “He’s good? And how about his personality? Is it nice? And his house? Okay? His car? Fine?”
I laugh. “For fuck’s sake.”
“I think I’ll share that rating. Zoe says Connor McCann’s an all right lay. Passable. Nothing special.”
“Bitch,” I whisper and then we’re both laughing again.
She goes to the kitchen and makes herself another hefty drink. She’s five-foot-three and weighs about as much as a feather pillow. She’s going to be trashed if she drinks another G and T like the first.
“Rachel, go easy, babe,” I say gently.
She shakes her head. “I’m getting drunk, so I can stand it.”
I look at her, tears stinging my eyes again. “We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” she asks, tears in her own eyes as she sits cross-legged on the sofa facing me.
“The way we figured out how I could avoid living with Frank once he decided that’s what I was going to do?
The way we figured out how I could avoid getting engaged to a guy I don’t particularly like? The one that I’m currently engaged to.”
“So we’ll leave. I’ve said it before. Let’s leave. Screw all of this.”
She shakes her head. “You know I can’t.”
“I know you think you can’t. When does it stop being your job to protect your mom? When do you get to have a life?”
She takes a deep breath in and exhales. “Now. Through you. Tell me everything about those three good-looking assholes. God, I hate them for leaving.”
My gaze slides to her. I’ve always suspected she knows why they left Frank’s organization to start their own and I don’t think that was just because they were power hungry.
“They’re—I mean you know them better than I do. They were around a lot that first year you were living with Frank, right?”
“Yes, they were always around, but they didn’t talk to me.”
“So why do you miss them?”
“Fewer people got hurt. Fewer people died. They had a way of just making people fall in line.”
“Yes,” I say. “I can imagine they did.”
She looks at me over the top of my glass. “Spill the tea.”
“He likes to be in charge, and he excels at it.”
“Was it kinky?”
“A little. I don’t think I’ve experienced all there is.”
“But?”
“He can play rough.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not in a bad way.”
“Were the other two there?”
I shake my head. It’s one of the things we’ve heard about them in the past. That they’d sometimes rented a suite and shared five or six women between them.
“Did you see Trick and Anvil?”
“Yes, they were at Connor’s house last night. I talked to them briefly, but it was because they wanted information about that robbery I told you about. Have you heard anything about that?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
She shrugs. “Not a lot of details.”
“What if you just stayed here with me?” I blurt out, wanting both our lives to change now. “C Crue owns this block. If your dad tried to send someone to get you, C Crue would have to stop it because this is part of their territory.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t consider the Palermo princess their problem,” she says, her voice slightly slurred.
“Why don’t I ask?”
“No,” she says sharply. “No,” she adds in a softer voice. “I’m okay. I’m—as long as C McCann takes care of you, that’s enough. But if he stops protecting you, you’re moving to New York. I’ll be there soon enough anyway. We’ll both be away from here.”
“You can go anywhere,” I say. “It doesn’t have be Frank’s house and then another mob guy’s.”
“Sure,” she says in a faraway voice before she lies down. “Sure.”
I’ve never been more worried about her than I am right now.
I wake to find myself under a blanket and alone on the couch. I get up, slightly wobbly on my feet from all the gin and tonics. I go to the bedroom, but Rachel’s not sleeping there. I grab my phone to text and find a message from her.
My driver came for me. Hope you’re not too hungover tomorrow. Have fun with that guy. I love you.
I frown, leaning against the wall. The text is from an hour earlier so she left around one a.m.…
There’s a soft knock on the door. I glance at it and shake my head.
It’s not the way Connor would knock and, other than Rachel, he’s the only person I’d want to see right now.
Suddenly there’s shouting in the hall. My head jerks up. The sound of heavy footfalls fills the air, and then there’s silence.
A few minutes later, there’s a sharp rap on the door and then someone’s fiddling with the lock.
I type in the numbers nine-one-one and then I hear, “Zoe, it’s Trick.”