Chapter 23
Koby
“One last thing,” Carter says, tapping his fingers against the hardwood desk in Scarlett’s back office. “Noretto’s meeting with us next week. Get the warehouse cleaned. I’m not inviting him here, and definitely not my place. I don’t want him anywhere near the girls. And nowhere public.”
The heavy silence that follows says enough.
Even after agreeing to work with him, I’m sure Carter’s still wondering what it’d feel like to put a bullet between Noretto’s eyes. And by the look of him, he’s struggling to remember the reasons why he can’t.
Though, if I were betting on who’d pull the trigger first, my money would be on Broadway. He loathes the idea of siding with Noretto, even if we do get to raze the bastard’s sex-trafficking empire to the ground.
Violet may be healing, but scars don’t vanish. The kind of trauma Noretto made her suffer will never fully go away, and Broadway’s not built to forgive or forget. He’ll remember forever and crave revenge just as long.
“I should probably sit that one out,” he says, eyes focused on the desk. “I get why you agreed to collaborate, but—”
“I know,” Carter cuts in with a sigh, like he’s had this argument in his head a dozen times. “I’d sit it out too if I could. You’ll be at my place with the girls. You, Apollo, and Arthur. I doubt Blaze has the balls to double-cross me, but better safe than sorry.”
He rises to his feet, eyes raking the screens that line the wall, even though we’re about to head out there. Broadway does the same, his features softening when he spots Violet, both hands cradling her big belly. Ryder’s more inconspicuous about checking on Bianca, but he does.
It’s a habit by now, a fucking ritual they share. I wonder if my compulsiveness will rival theirs once the Grey brothers are dead and Leilani isn’t confined to my apartment.
It fucking kills me that she’s always alone.
At the same time, I love knowing she’s waiting for me. Especially now we’re getting to know each other more intimately. A week of sex and pillow talks has deepened our connection at lighting speed. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life.
Oh, and she only hit me twice, so progress.
Carter leaves first, Broadway at his shoulder, Ryder close behind.
Their footsteps fade down the hall while I stay behind, pulling my phone out of my pocket.
I bought one for Leilani while shopping for condoms and a morning-after pill, and she’s even more distracting now I can text back and forth with her.
Me: What do you want for dinner? You can’t say “your cock” again.
I watch the screen, waiting to see three dots dancing, but minutes pass, and nothing happens. My knee starts bouncing, anxiety rising in my chest the longer she doesn’t reply. It’s not like her. She’s got her phone practically glued to her hand whenever I leave. She always replies within seconds.
Maybe she’s asleep?
One look at the wall-mounted clock tells me it’s not even ten. She never sleeps before I get home. She waits.
A bead of sweat slides down the nape of my neck. I finish my drink, doing all the breathing exercises I know to calm the fuck down between gulps.
She’s okay.
Safe.
She’s probably taking a bath.
Nothing’s wrong.
Too bad no amount of reassurances can decelerate my heartrate. I bolt upright, dialing her number, the phone pressed to my ear as I leave the office and turn toward the emergency exit. Each unanswered ring echoes inside my head, overdriving my mind further.
“Hey,” she answers softly.
Relief almost cuts my legs from under me, but it’s short-lived. She sounds weak, sad, confused...
“Where are you, baby?”
“Um, I’m in the living room.”
“Are you okay? I sent a text. You didn’t reply.”
She chuckles. “Could you possibly be any more needy? I was taking a nap. I’m okay.”
“I’m not needy.”
So fucking needy it’s pathetic.
I don’t care.
“Fuck,” I hiss on an exhale, my back hitting the side of my car. “You scared me. I thought—”
“I’m fine, Koby. Just not feeling well. Could you...” She pauses and I can almost hear her teeth clamping on her lower lip.
“What is it? What do you need?”
“Gosh, I’m sorry but I’m on my period and I need supplies. Maybe you could ask one of the girls to go shopping with you?”
“Why would I ask the girls?” I yank the driver’s side door open and take the wheel. “I know what to buy.”
“I don’t want you to feel awkward...”
All tension vacates my muscles at once. A dark, manic kind of amusement bubbles up.
“Awkward? Try proud.”
“Oh-kay...” she drawls. “I need sanitary pads and painkillers, please. If my cramps don’t kill me, my back sure will.”
“I’ve got this, baby. I’ll be home soon. Don’t move.”
She’s mine to take care of so she’ll have everything she needs.
Everything she wants.
And everything I can think of.
***
The woman at the till smiled like a Cheshire cat the whole time she was scanning the items I picked out for Leilani.
It was weird.
What’s so entertaining about sanitary pads and chocolate?
Beats me, but Leilani has a similar reaction when I drop the shopping bags on the coffee table and kneel beside her.
Amusement tugs at the corners of her kissable lips.
And since they’re so kissable, I lean out, catching that pouty mouth with mine.
My tongue slips in, curling with hers, the sensation equal parts sedative and adrenaline boost. I groan into the kiss and my blood rushes south.
I pull back before my cock hardens. There are more pressing matters.
“Exactly how long do you think a period lasts?” Leilani asks, cocking an eyebrow at the shopping bags. “Because judging by how much you bought, you must think I’ll be on this couch for eighteen months. That’s too much, Koby.”
“It’s not.” I brush a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear before kissing her temple. “How are you feeling? What do you need?”
This is the first time I’ve taken care of a girl going through her period. No long-term relationship, well, any kind of relationship, in my past makes me inexperienced, but thankfully, I’m a fast learner.
“Painkillers,” she admits, struggling to sit up.
I tip out the first bag.
“Wrong one,” I mutter, pushing the boxes I’ve littered the table with aside. “Hold on.”
Leilani whispers something under her breath, too low for me to catch, and then she snorts. Actually snorts a sharp, ugly-cute laugh I’ve never heard from her before. I peer up, finding her eyes glassy and lips trembling from holding back a grin.
“What’s so funny?”
“Eleven.” She presses her knuckles to her mouth, trying and failing to smother the laughter “Why would I need eleven boxes of sanitary pads, Koby?”
“I wasn’t sure which ones you liked. Three drops or five? Long or short? Overnight, ultra-thin, super-plus? Wings, no wings, scented—there it is.” I pluck out a box of Tylenol from the pile of sweets mounding up over the table. “Here, let me get you some water.”
I hand her the box, ignoring how she bites her lip to hold off another bout of laughter. Next time, when I know what she likes, it’ll be easier.
“What’s in the third bag, Koby?” she yells when I disappear with said bag into the kitchen.
I don’t answer right away, too busy working through my prepared list of steps.
Plug in the heating pad, check.
Transfer the store-bought soup into a bowl, check.
Pop it in the microwave, check.
I take a glass of water back to the living room.
“Do I smell soup?” Leilani asks with a straight, innocent face that doesn’t fool me for a second. “Koby. Baby... I’m not sick.”
“Shush. Don’t ruin this for me. Take the pills, stop laughing, and wait here.”
She pretends to zip her mouth and throw away the key but her eyes sparkle like diamonds.
I swear she’s not far off giggly tears.
Whatever.
I’m on a mission that takes me back to the kitchen, then the living room again. Once Leilani has soup in hand and the heating pad tucked against her belly, I head into the bathroom, third bag tucked under my arm, lighter now I’ve unloaded half its contents.
If there’s one thing I know about periods, it’s that heat helps with cramps, so a warm bath is a must. I line up an array of bath salts on the counter, sprinkling a generous amount of each into the tub as the hot water fills it up.
Candles are next, and within seconds a sweet scent is permeating the room while I fish out brand-new comfy PJs and the holy grail—fluffy socks. I sure hope those will earn me a few brownie points because Leilani’s feet are ice cold all the fucking time.
I step back, surveying the room as if it were a murder scene I’d spent hours staging to look like an accident.
“Not bad,” I praise myself, spinning on my heel to get Leilani, only to find her in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, face a little less pale. “Why are you up? I would’ve—”
“Carried me? Try it, see what happens.” She winks, her expression softening. “How can you be both?”
“Both?”
“Yes, both.” She steps in further, nuzzling her cheek against my chest. “A red and a green flag?”
“I’m not a red flag.”
“You kill people, Koby.”
“Only when they deserve it.” My arms wrap around her, careful not to squeeze too hard and cause her more discomfort. “And for you... I’ll always be green.”
She tilts her head back, kissing my chin, and the domesticity of this situation crashes over me.
I’ve never wanted this. Never craved what my friends had: relationships, one woman to come home to, hugs, kisses, and good deeds.
I never imagined myself as monogamous, but now that I have this, her, I can’t imagine giving it up.
“Get in the bath,” I tell her. “Heat helps with cramps.”
Her mouth grazes my jawline before she rises on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear. “So do orgasms.”
Pulling back, she smiles, watching my reaction with bated breath. Judging by the confusion clouding her features, she expected something other than desire.
I grab the back of her neck, crashing my lips to hers. My teeth bite her lower lip, tugging and earning a muffled moan.