30. Zira
ZIRA
Every part of me throbs from last night, but it’s a good pain, a satisfying pain like the ache from an extremely satisfying workout.
Sitting at the kitchen table after showering with Bradley, I nurse a mug of warm, sweet tea to soothe my throat and study Bradley’s rippling, muscular back as he flips pancakes on the stove.
The remains of last night's dinner sit steeping in the sink and as the warm scent of pancakes fills the air, my stomach grumbles slightly.
A throb pulses between my legs, matching every beat of my heart, and I squeeze my thighs together to amplify the sensations.
Last night was incredible. Bradley took me to the very brink of everything and then pushed me right over.
I’ve never come that much with anyone, ever.
Never had someone go down on me so much and eat me out like there’s a feat between my legs.
Bradley was like a man possessed and it was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Right now, if I squint, I can pretend we’re a real couple about to have breakfast together in a cute little life where the most stress I have comes from a mortgage payment and making it to the market before all the good produce is gone.
“Chocolate?” Bradley asks, drawing me out of my fantasy and holding up a small bag of chocolate chips. “Or Blueberry?”
“Ooh, chocolate. I don’t like blueberries.”
“Really?” He squints at me with a soft smile.
“Yup. I like blueberry-flavored things, but not blueberries. The one time I tried them, they were so freaking sour.”
“Sounds like you had a bad berry.”
“Maybe.”
Bradley pops something in his mouth, flips a pancake, and then turns again.
As he walks toward me, his eyes sparkle and my heart lifts as he reaches me, places two fingers under my chin, and tilts my head up.
The moment our lips meet, my mind is soothed into blissful silence, and I sink into it until his lips part and his tongue snakes into my mouth, carrying a blueberry.
I blink slowly while the kiss breaks and his brow lifts.
“Better?”
Obediently, I crunch down on the berry and while the tart juice that darts across my tongue is much sweeter than the berry I tried, it’s still not for me. My nose scrunches and I laugh softly. “Sweeter, but no.”
“Damn,” he sighs softly, then kisses the tip of my nose. “I tried.”
This is all far too romantic for a man who was just supposed to give me sex, right? As he returns to the stove and saves the pancakes from the heat, I shift in my seat and sigh. It’s all so sweet and yet it’s not real. There’s no way Bradley has feelings for me. He was just being nice.
As nice as any guy who will fuck to make you feel better.
Apparently.
My sigh brings Bradley’s attention back to me and he sets a plate of pancakes in front of me. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I reply honestly. “But it’s a really good sore.”
“And up here?” He pats my head while passing toward the fridge.
“Quieter.”
“That’s good.” He returns with some orange juice and sets it down next to me. “Eat.”
The first mouthful is like biting into a cloud and my eyes close over in bliss as the buttery sweetness collides with the chocolate and makes heaven in my mouth. “Amazing.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you.” Opening my eyes, I catch his gaze as he moves to make his own. “For this. For last night. I’m… I’m really sorry I hit you. And tried to hurt you.” A pulse of hot guilt rises in my gut. “You didn’t deserve any of that because all you’ve tried to do is help me. I’m really sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“But I—”
“Zira.” He fixes me with a calm stare and moves his mixing batter from the counter to the table.
“I brought you here because I knew you had a lot bottled up. And that’s what it took to get it out of you.
I was prepared and I’m glad I could help.
I don’t hold it against you and we worked it out. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
The urge to argue back rises in me like an obsession because there’s no way he’s just forgiving me like that. I have to earn it. I always have to earn it.
“But Bradley…”
“Zira.” His smile remains warm. “If it makes you feel better, consider that I got to shove my dick down your throat at least three times last night. If you won’t believe my forgiveness, then believe that I got my payback.”
My cheeks instantly flare and Bradley laughs. It’s a deep, warm sound and might be the first time I’ve heard it properly. It’s nice. I want to make him laugh again. Always.
“I’m still… mad at myself,” I admit with another bite of pancakes. “For not realizing Peter was using me. For being so foolish about all of this. And I know it was hard, but I feel like I should have recognized my own brother.”
“It sounds like they went to great lengths to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“Yeah. And I’m so fucking angry at Harris.
He’s gotten away with everything and he’ll escape with half those diamonds.
I lost my brother, as much of a dick as he was, and my job, probably, and my home, and everything.
While he just gets away with everything.
” My fork hovers over my pancake. “Part… part of me wants him dead. And I want to be the one to do it.” My voice softens. “And that scares me.”
I’d never have admitted that out loud if Bradley hadn’t made me feel so incredibly safe with him.
“You won’t have to do that,” Bradley assures me. “He won’t get far.”
“You don’t know that,” I murmur. “He’s such a slippery fucker. He should have been in prison years ago, but he always gets away with everything.”
“Zira, no one can hide from the Mafia, not for long,” Bradley says, and he turns back to the stove, pouring his batter out.
“We have eyes everywhere, and the only reason we didn’t go after him full barrel was because of the concern for your brother’s safety.
A concern, sadly, that no longer holds us back. ”
“Maybe I could call him and set up some kind of deal?” I suggest, lowering my fork in favor of a glass of orange juice. “He did say he wanted me to crawl back to him with the diamonds we have. Maybe we can use them to lure him out?”
“I considered it,” Bradley replies. “But we’re already using what we have to soothe the Irish.
Unfortunately, that’s a higher priority right now.
The Irish need the diamonds to seal a very important deal that risks many families and a lot more lives.
Securing that deal comes first. Harris second.
” He flips his pancake. “But that doesn’t mean Harris is any less important. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
“Will you be able to track the diamonds Harris has if he decides to get rid of them?”
Bradley serves up his blueberry pancakes and sets them on the table.
“To an extent. If he starts to sell them, we’ll snap them up immediately.
Raven’s reached out to every black market cutter that we can find, so if Harris goes to one of them to get his diamonds cut and renewed, then we should catch him, assuming none of them get blinded by riches. ”
“So you’re relying on the honesty of black market gem cutters or Harris getting greedy and selling them as they are?”
Bradley’s cheeky smile warms my heart. “Exactly.”
“Damn.” Mulling it over as Bradley sits, I return to my pancakes and pop the next mouthful past my lips, savoring the soft, warm sweetness. “I wish I’d done more back at the house.”
“The house with… Adam, was it?”
I nod. “I was so… so shocked. And he just killed Adam in front of me. I didn’t know him. I think he was one of Harris’s friends, but he didn’t even blink when he killed him. I don’t understand how someone can be so cold, but I wish I’d done something more.”
“You just learned that your brother was dead and you were chasing a ghost. I don’t think there was anything more anyone could have expected of you.” Bradley devours his first pancake in two bites and I chuckle.
“Maybe. But if I’d been smarter or… something. I don’t know. I just wish there were some way I could have found out which GPS he uses, or whether the cars were connected or something.”
Bradley’s entire form suddenly freezes. “GPS?”
“Yeah… yeah, sorry. I remember when he was yelling at me, he told me the only reason he wasn’t using the GPS to get the diamonds was that he wanted me to crawl back to him with them.
I get that he’s paranoid, so I bet he would have put one on his own car, y’know?
If he could kill Adam like that, then surely, he didn’t trust him.
I guess it’s how he also knew I still had the diamonds and hadn’t taken them to the police or something—”
The abrupt way Bradley drags his phone out of his pocket brings me to silence, and a strange cold sweeps through my chest as darkness descends across his face. He dials quickly and lifts the phone to his ear. The subtle hum of ringing reaches my ears and for a few tense seconds, we just sit there.
No one answers.
Bradley lowers the phone, taps the screen, and calls again.
“What’s wrong?” My gut twists and the lingering sweetness from the pancakes sours in my mouth. “What’s happened? Did I do something?”
“No,” Bradley snaps and then winces as if he didn’t mean to. “No, not you.”
Again, he lowers the phone and taps the screen once more, then he stands as he presses it back to his ear. The darkness in his eyes melts into worry and my heart lurches up into my throat.
“Why doesn’t anyone answer their fucking phone!”