Chapter 16
Massimo
The rule of three is more satisfying to the human brain. More memorable. More effective. Just more . Except in cases where I’m pulled from the warmth of Hadley’s arms to deal with a third motherfucker in my torture chamber.
The fact she’s a woman makes little difference to me. The end result is the same. Me, out in the fucking cold and Hadley in my bed, well-fucked and in need of more cock.
“Where’s Gio?” I demand, circling the woman who I recognize from her shifts at the diner. “Talk to me, Susan.”
I already know the facts. Emilio called me down to my office, shoved a report in my hand, and revealed he’d scooped her up from a shitty little lean-to that skirted my property. Seeing her name tied to Gio’s— Colton Bernard’s —leaves me no choice in the matter. She helped to hurt Hadley, so she has to go.
“Where’s Gio?” I demand again.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she spits, her breath as vile as her body odor.
I’ll find that motherfucker with or without Susan’s help. Under the circumstances, I tried for an easier route.
I don’t have time for her games. The few times I saw her at the diner, she was shitty at her job and even shittier to Hadley. There was always something about her that didn’t sit right in my gut. The day the hitchhiker came in, Susan conveniently called out. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. She took days off more than she worked her shifts.
I have to do a deeper dive into her background. Find out if she worked at the diner before Hadley was hired or vice versa. One scenario meant Gio was tracking Hadley too and sent Susan in to report her movements, or he was tracking her and hired Susan to keep an eye on Hadley.
Emilio shifts.
I lift a brow at Susan, and she clamps her jaw. For all the good her goddamn tongue is doing, she could’ve cut it out like the other two dickwads.
I don’t have time for this. I pull out my gun from my side holster and put the barrel to her head.
Her eyes widen. “No! I’ll talk—”
I pull the trigger, cutting her off mid-sentence. I don’t give second chances.
“Fuck!” Emilio barks. “Blowback. Jesus, I just took a shower.”
“Take another one,” I snap. I’m standing right in front of her, and he’s complaining about blood splatter?
I hope Hadley is already asleep. I can’t imagine how I can explain the blood and gore on me.
Scowling, I return my gun to the holster and storm to my F-150, nodding at Thomas, a silent sentinel in the early morning hours. He’s pulled a double shift. Big John’s there to relieve him, so Thomas can rest for a couple hours. Fatigue leads to fuck-ups.
Emilio races ahead and jumps into the driver’s seat.
Powdery white snow glimmers in the darkness. The bracing air washes against my skin and slides through my hair like a lover’s caress, reminding me of the brush of Hadley’s fingers.
Once I settle into the passenger seat, Emilio guns forward. We don’t speak. Anger competes with worry, and I’m better left to my own devices in this mood. When we arrive at the cabin and I walk into the house, I hear Greta in the kitchen. I’m not in the mood for conversation with her either, so I skirt past.
As I walk into the den, the Christmas tree greets me. Bright, beautiful, and innocent. Everything I’m not. Everything Hadley is. I should be grateful that I so diligently watched her and then decided to “borrow” her until shit gets sorted. The hitchhiker hadn’t succeeded in doing whatever the fuck he intended. He was one man at one time.
Susan was a coworker. She could’ve taken out Hadley at any time. Since the asshole failed, Susan probably would’ve tried next, and I couldn’t allow it to happen.
I rub the back of my neck, not liking the fear pulsing through me. Fear equates to vulnerability. But my enemies, Hadley’s enemies, are closing in. For whatever reason, anyone and everyone tied to Colton Bernard and this scheme Gio has been running for decades ends up dead. In order to protect Hadley, it’s time to face everything and everyone remaining. She needs answers and explanations. She needs the full story to make an informed decision.
Barring that, I have to smoke out Gio. Motherfucker must know I’m on to him. He must realize The Tulip’s death is connected to me.
“Mass?”
I’m bloody and strapped. But this is who I am. Seeing the real me has to be a part of her informed decision. I turn my back on the tree and all that I will never be.
Hadley gasps and covers her mouth with a hand. Her gaze roams from my face to my bloody shirt, then meets my eyes. “Where did you go?”
She’s asking the wrong questions. Ones I can’t answer— won’t answer. To forge a safe and happy future, she needs to understand her past. She needs to know she isn’t Hadley Bernard.
She’s Halona Tsosie. The name, the first meaning fortune and the other slender, has a lyrical quality and is fitting for a woman with golden skin, long dark hair, and warm brown eyes. Outside of Amos, she is the best thing that’s happened to me.
I recoil at the thought. I love few and fall in love never.
“I deserve to know,” she says flatly. “This is the second time you’ve come in here all bloody. Are bad guys breaching your fortress, or does your compound contain a death chamber, and you’re the executioner?”
Murder is easy. Death. Torture. Love is hard. Love is hardest when the woman you’ve unexpectedly fallen for has a target on her back.
“I need to shower.”
I start around her, but she blocks my path. She is frustrating and fearless, but she won’t best me. I grip her hips and lift her out of the way, then stalk to our bedroom. She’s hot on my heels.
My pace picks up. I attempt to slam the bathroom door, but she rushes by.
“Did you kill someone?” she demands as I strip away my shirt and throw it in the trash can. I’ll order it burned later. I leave no DNA evidence, mine or anyone else’s. “Did you?”
My trousers drop to my ankles. I’ve gone commando, so my hard cock springs free. The sight of my straining dick doesn’t grab her attention, annoying me to hell and back. Of course, I won’t touch her until I shower. The material served as a barrier between my skin and Susan’s blood and tissue. It was also the dividing line between good and evil. Me and Hadley.
She can’t touch me until I shower. I won’t taint her in such a manner.
I brush past her and flip on the hot water. Behind me, Hadley moves. I refuse to turn to see what she’s doing.
Right before I step underneath the spray, her voice reaches me.
“You said I was your woman. If you can’t give me any other answers right now, at least tell me that.”
Heaving a breath, I tip my head back. “Will it make a difference?”
A heartbeat passes. Two.
“No,” she whispers.
Something inside of me settles. My disquiet eases. She’s mine. My woman. Mine to keep, protect, and love.
Mine.
“Let’s try this again,” she says quietly but firmly. “Did you kill someone?”
“Yes.”
I step into the shower. The water hits me in a hot stream.
Hands glide down my back. Pleasure jolts through me at the feel of her soft fingers. She slips in front of me. As tough as she is, she’s so much more delicate than me; I add a little cold water so she won’t be scalded.
Water rains over her, plastering her hair to her head and sluicing over her golden skin. She grabs the bar of soap from the holder inlaid into the marble. I think she intends to soap me. Instead, a cat-like smile curves her lips and she glides the bar over herself, sets it down again, and uses her hands to lather the soap.
She crooks her finger at me. If my fucking life depended on it, I can’t resist. She presses into me and shimmies, her body transferring the soap to mine. I dip my head and take her mouth as she continues her movement, wrapping her fingers around my cock in the process.
She tastes so fucking sweet. My dick surges into her hand. She’s still soaping me. I caress her nipples. Immediately, she pulls her mouth away.
“No. Don’t touch me yet.”
I want to ignore her order, but I can’t.
She grabs the soap again. This time, she does use it on my skin instead of her own. I consider ignoring her command, but she’s so sweet right now I don’t want to ruin the moment. I shove aside my need to take charge.
When I’m sufficiently soapy, she quickly lathers herself up, turns toward the water to rinse off, then takes her position behind me again. As the suds wash away from me, she places tiny kisses along my back. My nuts throb and the base of my spine tingles, so I turn to her.
She smiles at me. I run a finger down her belly, over her mound, and then between her folds, circling her clit in the gentlest caresses. I slip a finger into her and increase the pressure against her clit.
“Massimo,” she breathes.
I brush my lips over hers. She grinds against my hand. “I love licking your pussy,” I whisper against her ear. She shivers. “You have the sweetest cream, Bellissima .”
She groans.
“So soft. The next time, I want you to ride my tongue.”
She shatters, and I cover her mouth with mine, absorbing her screams and lifting her into my arms.
Limp, her head lolls against my shoulder as she wraps her legs around my waist.
I thrust into her and lose myself in the grip of her pussy walls.
Hadley
Anticipation fills the eve of Christmas Eve. It’s been three days since Massimo returned to the cabin after leaving me in the early morning hours. I’d been asleep, but it was restless, and his movements awakened me, though I didn’t let on.
Time alone gave me a chance to come to grips with how much I’d ignored the lack of birth control. Not only that but the realization that Massimo wants me pregnant. I should feel a little more panicked and outraged. Instead, it’s… anticipation . The idea of a real family to call my own and a relative who shares my love. Not just a relative, but a baby. Massimo’s baby.
“Hadley!” Amos screams happily, his voice traveling from the direction of the kitchen. “Come see!”
Throwing aside the book I’ve been reading on the sofa in the den, I jump to my feet and hurry to the kitchen. Emilio stands near the door, his hand on the knob. Greta is at the counter, seasoning some type of meat.
Amos runs to me and grabs my hand. “Zio says you told him we needed a sled.”
I mentioned it yesterday, still determined that Amos enjoy a sled at Christmas time. I wasn’t sure how that would happen being snowed in, but I hoped it would somehow. Before I ever mentioned the idea of sledding to Massimo, I wanted to have the sled. Otherwise, he might deem it too dangerous and veto the idea.
“We have to wait for your dad,” I tell Amos. “He has to give his permission first.”
Amos nods and races past Emilio. Snow threatens again. Although I haven’t asked Massimo what happens now since he’s decided to keep me, I want the option of us leaving. Too much more of the white stuff and we will be stranded for who knows how long.
I’d like to return to civilization again. Had I still wanted to leave on my own, I couldn’t, not with the maze of back roads Massimo drove on to get here. I need the option to come and go as I please.
Keeping me as his woman doesn’t mean keeping me as a prisoner. I want options and freedom. Surely, when he called me his , he meant…?
Well. What the fuck did he mean?
Twice he’s returned with blood on him, and he disappears for hours at a time. Surely, whatever danger that has brought us here has been extinguished. Yet, no secrets have come to light. Not the ones he promised to reveal to me and not the ones I hold so close. Gaspare Marino was one of the darkest… when I chose life over death.
When my father…
When…
“Hadley?”
I force a smile on my face, shoving aside the darkness. “Want to see the sled your zio bought?”
My joy is more genuine as I beam at Emilio. Yet, I can’t forget the momentary panic that surged through me when I thought I saw a younger version of Gaspare among Massimo’s men.
Emilio holds up his phone. “Mass is on his way.”
“Come on, Hadley,” Amos says. “Let’s go outside and look at the sled while we wait for Dad.”
“When we come back inside, we can make cookies for later,” I absently suggest, needing the distraction.
“Will we still bake them tomorrow too? For Santa,” he reminds me.
“Of course.” I’ve never left cookies and milk for Santa either, so I’m excited on behalf of Amos and me.
Emilio opens the door and allows Amos to run outside.
“After you,” Emilio says, our rocky beginning behind us.
“Thanks.”
I walk outside into the gray afternoon and join Amos next to the pull sled crafted from a deep, richly colored wood and outfitted with red cushions.
“What do you think?” Emilio asks, walking to Amos and ruffling his hair.
“I love it!”
The blacked-out SUV pulls up and both the driver’s side and passenger side doors open. Massimo exits the passenger side, while Big John gets out on the driver’s side.
Smiling, Massimo saunters toward us. “Emilio, help take the presents out of the SUV.”
“Presents?” I blurt. Did he leave the property without me?
“Oh, boy!” Amos says. “What’d you get me, Dad?”
“Santa’s delivering your presents, piccolino .”
Amos grins.
And the shooting starts.