Chapter 21 #2
But he speaks in a calm, steady tone. “Ciaran Pierce is my father,” he tells me.
I freeze, gaping at him. What the hell did he just say?
Tipping his chin up, he adds, “No one knows except Hunter.”
No one…
No one except Hunter and me now, he means.
He’s Ciaran’s son? He’s Fallon’s brother? And she doesn’t know?
Why would Ciaran not tell anyone?
Farrow breathes slowly, stating, “I will never hurt someone Fallon Caruthers loves.”
So I’m safe with him. Is that why he told me his secret?
God, Fallon… I clear my throat.
I hope he doesn’t expect that I can keep that secret. Not from her. He has to know that.
But I don’t have time to hash this out right now.
“In any case...” I nudge him to the ladder. “You go first.”
He chuckles, damn near jogging up the ladder as I haul myself up behind him.
We climb three flights and hop over the ledge, onto the roof. Hugo stands near a large air vent, flanked by two of his guys.
“Nicholas and Axel,” Farrow informs me under his breath.
Stopping just in front of Navarre, I swallow to wet my throat.
I know he enjoys being someone he imagines I’m scared of. I used to kick him out of Green Street when he was so desperate to be a bad guy for Reeves.
Now I’m the one facing him.
He takes a step toward me. “You haven’t tried to evict me,” he says, “because you know Green Street is more than a building now. I’ll just take the organization and move somewhere else.”
True.
“And I haven’t taken care of you,” he adds, “because…”
“Because what end does that serve?” I fire back. “If you can so easily move, then what hold on you do I really have?”
“Exactly.” Light glints in his gelled hair. “I didn’t see you as a legitimate threat.”
I’m not sure how I feel hearing that. I want to be a threat to him.
“That is, until you started throwing your weight around,” he goes on. “Showing up in Weston, your little piece of ass taking over sacred ground on Knock Hill, and you ordering my people about as if you’re back in charge.”
“I was never in charge.”
“That’s not how they see it,” he snarls. “In their eyes, I’m the usurper.”
Most of those people have no memory of me there. They just know their lives haven’t gotten better under Drew or Hugo, and they think the college boy who owns the building can do better.
I shrug. “You can’t be worse for them than Reeves.”
“I might be.” He shifts his eyes to Farrow, his gaze hardening. “But of course, I don’t have the allure of being an original member.”
“So, what…” I ask. “I give you Green Street and promise never to go into Weston? It’ll never happen.”
Not with Quinn living there now.
But he shakes his head. “It’s too late for that. The women will follow you. The mothers, sisters, and wives…and my girls.”
I go still, noticing the possessive way he says it, but knowing he’s not referring to his family or his girlfriends.
He’s talking about his strippers and escorts and their families.
Some might remember me from when they were younger and hanging around, and others might think any change is better than Hugo.
“They would crawl to you if you asked.” His jaw twitches. “And without the women, I can’t hold it.”
“I’m not looking to step into your shoes.”
“And I’m not shutting down!”
I pause, only smiling a little. “You will. And soon.”
He lunges for me, grabbing my collar just before his fist slams against my jaw. I growl, squeezing my eyes shut as my face whips so far right that pain shoots up my neck. My cheek catches fire as the inside of my mouth cuts against my teeth.
I swallow blood. Fuck.
His thugs and Farrow swoop in, trying to push us away from each other, and I fight to stay on my feet as the world tilts around me for a moment.
Curling my fingers around his throat, I shove Hugo back. He stumbles into his guys, both of them straightening him up immediately as Farrow steadies me.
Hugo breathes hard, both of us glaring at each other. “You have twenty-four hours to get your ass back out of the country, or I hunt you down and kill you,” he tells me. “And I will reopen that grave and dump you where Reeves should’ve put you eight years ago.”
I get in his face. “Why not do it now?”
He’s fucking scared. Too many cops around tonight, and we’re in public.
Or maybe Reeves, wherever he is, doesn’t want me dead yet. Hugo’s still not really the boss, and it pisses him off.
He closes the distance between us. “There are twenty-thousand breaths in twenty-four hours.” He inhales, savoring a long gulp of air. “One down. Make the most of the rest you have left.”
Pushing off, he leaves, back down the fire escape and followed by his boys.
Twenty-thousand breaths.
He wants me gone by this time tomorrow night. Would he kill me?
I draw in one and let it leave me.
Quinn…
I inhale another. Then another, picking up a scent.
Farrow steps up to my side. “Lucas...”
“Go take care of your shit.”
I don’t want to talk to him right now.
Filling my lungs again, I catch a fragrance. Subtle. But close.
He descends the fire escape, and I follow him. Car horns honk, the area floods with lights, and we rush to the street to see the commotion. Sprinkles of rainfall, music blasts from a truck’s speakers, and Farrow turns, giving me a grin.
Weston is here.
“Shit,” I grunt.
He holds my eyes, backing away, and heads to his crew who just rolled up to make a mess of the Falls tonight. Holding out his hands, he shrugs, and it’s amazing how easily he can pretend to have a one-track mind when he’s actually quite good at multi-tasking.
I watch Weston bulldoze their way into the crowd, taking over the music and amping up the thunder as rain spills on skin and bodies sway together.
I gaze out at the crowd, now so thick you can’t make out individual faces as they hover close, hold each other, and the rain soaks their hair to their faces.
Chaos.
What a perfect opportunity for Hugo to strike. Or Drew.
One breath, then another, and another, and I feel the target branded onto my back, but I weave through the dancers, finding her at the edge, near the sidewalk.
The strap of her dress slides down her arm, and I’m no better than Drew Reeves. Panting after a girl way too young for me.
I knew I smelled her.
I stare at her, she stares at me.
I take a step toward her, and she takes one back.
Did she hear what we said up there? How would she get up there without us seeing? How would she have gotten down so fast?
One thing is likely, though. If she followed me here, then she heard what Farrow and I were talking about back at the house.
I move toward her, and she moves away again, holding my eyes. Dylan and Aro dance a few yards behind her, and I softly jerk my head, telling them to leave.
This is what it would’ve felt like to embrace Green Street. To be the villain and take what I want.
They stop moving, looking to her for direction, but she’s unaware of anything else but me.
Tears fill her eyes, even as she clenches her fists.
I’m not the best choice for her. I’m not a choice at all.
But twenty-thousand breaths and they’re all going to be for her.
Closing the distance, I press my body to hers, holding her waist tightly. When I look over her head again, Dylan and Aro are sinking into the crowd, giving us privacy.
“Who are you?” Quinn chokes out.
Yeah, she heard everything.
Lifting her up by the backs of her thighs, I slip my fingers under her dress, close enough to feel the heat pouring out of her.
She lets out a groan, squeezing my shirt in her fists as rain pours down her arms.
“You’ve got ass at your beck and call, I hear,” she grits out. “Call one of your girls.”
I love the flush of anger in her cheeks.
She jerks her chin to the crowd, the two of us just figures in the mass. “They all want you.”
But I want you.
Sliding my fingers into her panties, I rock with her to the music as I lick her mouth, coaxing her fucking tongue out. I don’t care who sees us, who’s watching, or about the cameras all over the street.
Everything is about to end anyway, one way or another.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I sink into her mouth.
Twenty-thousand breaths.
How many will I last inside of her?