CHAPTER 6
I shake my head and scrub a hand down my face because, yet again, I could have sworn I got a hint of Fleur’s scent. I know it’s not true. I know it’s my head playing tricks on me because I want her to be right here next to me no matter what it is I’m doing.
The last few days since I woke up in Room Eight to find our woman gone, have been long fucking days. It’s like a piece of me is missing without her at my side. It makes no sense that I feel the profound loss of her, but I’m not going to fight the way I feel about my woman.
I’ve done it for long enough and ignored everything right in front of me.
In doing so I pushed her away. I can’t do it anymore. It hurt not only Fleur, but my brothers and myself as well.
It’s already taking all my self-control to stop myself from driving to Fleur’s place and stealing her away. I could probably get away with it and have her back at my house without anyone knowing. At least, not at first.
The only thing stopping me is knowing once I have her in our home, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let her go. She probably wouldn’t like that considering she’s an independent woman and has been for quite some time. It also might cause problems with her family, both personally and professionally, but that’s the least of my concerns.
I don’t want to upset her.
I don’t want her to look at me like I’m a monster.
I want her to want us as much as we want her. I want her to choose us.
Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense considering a lot of women have chosen me over the years. The thing is, I know those women chose me because of what I could do for them, whether they realized it at the time or not. If Fleur chooses to be with me and my brothers, it won’t be because of what we can do for her.
She doesn’t need us in her life. She has power at her fingertips if she wants it. She has money she only has to snap her fingers to get. She has support from her family and a club of men who would kill for her because of the loyalty that runs through their veins.
She doesn’t need us.
I want her to want us. I want her to choose us.
Maybe it’s too much to ask considering she walked away from us without a backwards glance.
I absently rub my chest over where my heart feels sluggish. It’s felt that way since I woke up to find Fleur gone with only the lingering smell of her perfume and something uniquely her reminding me that what we shared was real. Fuck. It was so real. I’ve been kicking myself for not sinking into her tight pussy for days.
I should have fucked her hard and filled her with my cum. I should have fought my brother for that right, but I thought I would have plenty of time. I figured she would fall at our feet and never walk away.
I was wrong.
Roch looks at me from where he’s been sniveling at my feet with fear in his eyes. I sigh and shake my head, knowing he’ll be able to see the disappointment in my eyes. Roch is someone who scurries through the seedier side of New Orleans, and he always keeps his eyes and ears open for me.
I’m sure it helps that I pay him very well for his skills and his loyalty. Only one of those things do I actually trust and, believe me, it’s not his loyalty.
I have zero doubt that Roch would sell me out if it was a better deal. Which is why I also make sure to instill a healthy bit of fear in the man.
He has a nasty little habit of losing his money at underground poker tables and with bookies who are more than willing to take his losing streak out on him. And he always has a losing streak going. He might be the kind of guy who people can ignore and forget about, which means they have loose tongues around him, but he has horrible luck when it comes to winning.
I would almost feel bad for him if using him didn’t work for me while helping my brothers and myself from time to time.
Since Viola was abducted and had to be rescued from Juan Martinez months ago, Roch has been on the lookout for anything to do with Martinez, his whereabouts, and his business. I hate that the piece of shit who dared to put his hands on my sister went to ground, and we haven’t been able to find him yet. He should never have gotten through that day with his life, but Martinez is a cockroach like that.
He’s been quiet since then. I wish my gut was telling me he had abandoned his business and need for power here in New Orleans, but I know that is only wishful thinking. There’s no way he left the city. He must be biding his time while making plans.
Which is where Roch comes in.
“I’m sorry,” he fucking sniffles like he’s about to cry and I barely stop myself from roaring at the man in frustration. “There’s still no word about Martinez. No one on the street is talking about him. None of the guys who used to do business with him acknowledge his existence. His bookies have all gone underground.”
“Roch,” I growl his name and he flinches, “if I find out you’re blowing sunshine up my ass I am going to be pissed.
His hands, which were hovering in front of him at chest height, go even higher like I’m holding him at gunpoint—which I am not—and he wants me to know he’s not armed. “I promise you. I haven’t heard anything.”
I narrow my eyes. “What about the Riding Rebels MC?”
Roch starts to shake his head rapidly at the mention of a rival club who decided it would be a good idea to antagonize the DSMC a few months ago, not long after everything went down with Viola. They had business dealings with Martinez, which means we now keep an eye on them as they navigate their little leadership transition. It’s taken them longer to get their feet underneath them after the death of their Prez than I would have thought.
But, then again, maybe that’s what happens when your whole club is full of men who are more interested in pussy than business and loyalty.
My family lucked out with the ties we have to the DSMC.
Which has me thinking about Fleur. It would strengthen our ties for the club princess to be married into the Guidice family. I shake my head and tell myself to ponder that shit later. Especially considering the thought of her wearing only a sparkling diamond ring and a pregnant belly is making my cock get hard as a fucking rock.
Not like the fucker has stopped being hard since I woke up to find out Fleur ran from us.
“They’re still trying to get their shit together after Anarchy’s,” Roch swallows hard and his eyes dart away from mine, but I know it’s from fear and not from lies, “disappearance. They are selling some low-level shit out of The Alloy Riot, but you know about that already.”
“We do,” I grunt, making sure to remind him that while I might be the only Guidice standing in front of him, there are more at my back.
Roch nods like a fucking bobble head doll and part of me feels badly for making him so afraid he’s on the verge of pissing himself. Another part of me relishes his fear, soaking it up and cackling like a demon because it gives me a feeling of victory.
I could use a moment of victory.
When Roch shifts, something in my gut twists and I barely stop myself from gripping his hair and reminding him who is in charge here. Instead, I bark, “Spit it out, Roch. I don’t have all fucking day to dance with you.”
He swallows hard and his eyes dart around again, like he expects someone to pop out of nowhere. His voice drops so low I almost can’t hear him, “Word on the street is that you and your brothers spent the night with a certain club princess.”
My body goes rigid, and I glare at him. He shrinks in on himself, but it doesn’t make the urge to kill him go away.
I don’t confirm or deny his information. I’ll never deny my feelings for Fleur again, but I sure as fuck am not going to admit to someone like Roch about how I spend my time. “And?”
Roch shrugs one shoulder. “Word is she’s even more untouchable because of it.” I nod and cross my arms across my chest, feeling my muscles bunch with the need to turn my annoyance and rage into physical hurt. It wouldn’t do me much good in terms of Roch and I know it. “Still, someone has been asking about her.”
I growl, barely stopping myself from roaring at the sniveling weasel in front of me, “Someone?”
He nods slowly, fear entering his gaze the longer he looks at me. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’m frothing at the fucking mouth with the information Roch is giving me. Feral doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.
I try and relax my shoulders, but it doesn’t work. I can feel the tension mounting and I’m pretty sure the back alley where I meet up with my little rat won’t be able to contain me when it breaks.
I should have tied her to the fucking bed. Then she wouldn’t have been able to get away from us.
“Who?” I prod him, hoping I sound less unhinged, but I fail. Miserably.
“Don’t have a name,” Roch’s voice is gentle and soft as if he knows he’s about to be slaughtered and is hoping to talk his way out of it first. He’s lucky I need him to keep his ear to the ground or else I might strongly consider it. “Just know he’s a little obsessed with her. Saw her and wanted her but couldn’t get his hands on her. From what I heard, he was pushed in her direction. Meeting her was not by chance.”
I force myself to focus on Roch’s words and look into the man’s eyes. His first loyalty might be to himself, always, but I also know he’s telling me this for a reason. I have to take it seriously, which I would do no matter what, where Fleur is concerned.
I hiss, “Martinez?”
Roch’s head drops, the frustration evident in the way he’s holding himself. I’m sure it’s not helping that fury is rolling off me in waves. I’m barely stopping myself from going on a killing rampage and that is far more Rocco’s style than my own.
My poor baby brother has been beside himself for days. He seemed to be hit the hardest when we woke up in Room Eight to find Fleur gone. I wasn’t surprised considering the history between us and her independent streak. I was disappointed though.
Rocco’s barely spoken or eaten in the days since it happened, and I have a feeling he spends most of his time looking at the tracker app he has telling him where the necklace he gave her is. I don’t know if she figured out that’s how he found her or not, but there hasn’t been a lot of movement to report on his end.
I can only hope she still has it on.
If she does, she’s stayed at her house for the most part. She’s gone out, but only to places like the clubhouse, where we would expect her to go considering the DSMC is in her blood, and the store. The tracker sure as fuck hasn’t shown her going back to Club Sin.
Which is a fucking relief.
“Don’t know if it was Martinez or not, but everyone knows the club princess and your sister are best friends,” Roch tiptoes around his answer and I can’t blame the man.
“They should both be untouchable.”
Roch nods slowly. “Your sister is. The Falsini triplets are crazy fucks. Between them and your family, no one who doesn’t have a death wish will touch her.”
Relief fills me, but it’s short lived. Fleur should be given the same protection. She might not be willing to acknowledge it, she might even want to run from us, but she is ours.
Our woman.
Ours to protect.
Ours to love.
Ours to spank when we get our hands on her because I’ve been barely functioning.
I shake my head and barely stop myself from chuckling. I’m the one who is supposed to not be bothered by the things people do. I’m supposed to be able to laugh it all off with humor.
The reality is that people underestimate you when you’re a clown or a playboy and I’ve used both to my advantage time and time again. The problem, I’m learning, is it’s hard for some people to take you seriously when you need them to.
“Fleur Whelan is off limits. From everyone,” my edict is filled with rage.
“I know,” Roch whispers and keeps his head down, unwilling to look into my eyes.
Can’t say I blame the man.
“If you can find out more information on who was asking after her, let me know,” I demand.
“Of course. I’ll keep you in the loop about whatever I hear,” he promises, and I know he’s telling the truth.
He might not be loyal to me and my family above all else, but he’s not stupid. As I take the envelope with his payment out of my pocket and hand it to him, I know it’ll all be lost taking a risk in one way or another.
Maybe this time, luck will be on his side.
Yeah, right.
Fuck.
He’s not the only one who could use a little luck. My brothers and I need to sit down and come up with a plan. I have a feeling the information I just found out, slim as it may be, will push them over the edge, one we’re already teetering on.
They’re going to be pissed and I’m already barely stopping myself from punching the brick wall as I make my way back to my car. Roch better find out some more information about the asshole asking questions about our woman.
If Martinez is behind it, I want to know. If that’s how whoever is looking for her got pushed into my woman’s orbit, nothing will stop me from hunting Martinez down and ending his life. I already want to do it because of Viola. But the thought of him hurting Fleur? It guts me.
Now the problem becomes how to find a man who has gone so far underground that not even a snitch, who slithers through the underground like poison, knows anything about him. It might not be soon, but he will pop up.
I’d rather be going after him before he does because I know, if he comes up for air on his own terms, it’ll be to execute some fucked up plan. My brothers and I will take him down either way, but I hope it’s before he can wreak any more destruction.