4. Bear
4
BEAR
I wasn’t supposed to find her so damned attractive. The fact she was a Caputi meant that I should hate her, that I should be repulsed by everything she represented. But she smelled like heaven and looked like a siren devil and, when she smacked me, I wanted to bend her over the nearest surface, turn her ass pink, and bury myself deep inside her.
Did I deserve it? Most definitely. I’d been angry and my tongue reacted before my brain could stop it.
Did I like it? Fucking fuck. Her beauty was matched only by her zeal, and when she set all of that on me, I wanted to consume it like the raging, spiraling void of a black hole. When I had my hand around her throat, her pulse beat like butterfly wings under her skin, and I wanted to see how much faster I could get it.
Shaking that off, I retreated for the bathroom to cool down, and when I came back out, she was already in her room. Which I figured was for the best because I needed a drink and some time alone.
After I had my tumbler of whiskey, I went to my bedroom and pulled out the research we’d managed to compile on the current Caputi players. Based on what Julia and Leo told us, there were a few of Benito’s siblings who would be willing to hear us out, but looking at their family tree, I wondered if it would be enough.
These bastards bred like bunnies, and there were a dozen cousins we’d have to get on board as well, not to mention the underbosses Leo had promised to visit.
As if summoned by my thoughts of him, my phone buzzed with a text from the Caputi prince himself.
Leo: Rancone is on board. Davila may take some work.
Me: What’s he want?
I sat back and rubbed a hand over my mouth, waiting for the reply.
Leo: A bigger piece of the pie.
Fucking figures. These crime bosses, all they ever wanted was more—more money, more power, more status.
Me: How big?
Leo: Another territory. Higher percentage.
Me: And?
Leo: I’ll consider it. I’m reaching out to Frankie and Sulli tomorrow morning.
I left it at that, and I massaged my burning eyes. I had my own shit to deal with. Stallion, Reaper, and Lunchbox would be a problem, one I wasn’t sure Doc could fix. He’d planted the idea there could be dissent when he’d been vocal about this alliance not working, and now we reaped that harvest. Other people in the club thought it was okay to rebel, to make their opposition known loud and clear. Instead of coming to me man to man, Stallion had openly expressed his dissatisfaction and fear that the Caputis would betray us.
That wasn’t to say I didn’t harbor that same fear myself. Julia and Leo could be playing us, but I didn’t see how that worked out to their advantage. The Caputi princess and I were legally bound to each other. She could kill me in my sleep, perhaps. But what remained of the club would come for her. She was on Rose territory, knee-deep in the thorns. Leo wouldn’t risk his only remaining sibling like that if he planned to turn coat at the last second.
I would have to do something about Stallion, Reaper, Lunchbox, and whoever else joined in with their scheming. An incoming text came from my sister, telling me our father had reached out. While she was Rose adjacent, she wasn’t a patched member. Therefore, she could talk freely with Crow, and as much as that chafed, I was glad one of us could communicate with him.
Detective Jordan was up his ass and the DA had plans to rake him through the coals. He would fall on the sword for us, the way the president was supposed to, but that didn’t mean I liked it. Sick desperation brewed in my heart, and I wished for the millionth time that I could talk to him myself, that I could get some of his old-fashioned guidance.
On top of all this, the Hell’s Knights MC were seen riding through North Carolina, much farther north than their territory would predicate. When Gabriella enacted her murderous plan four months ago, she had made a deal with the Hell’s Knights to get information about us through my sister. In exchange, Gabriella had sold Verona to the president as retribution for his brother’s death, something my father had done before any of us were born. We now had more enemies than we could count, and the walls were quickly closing in on every side.
I took another drink of whiskey and sighed. A soft murmur echoed through the house, and I grabbed my gun, clicking off the safety before remembering I had a new roommate.
The sound came again, this time louder, a moan or perhaps…a stifled plea. I stood and walked toward the hallway, holding the nine millimeter in one hand while I turned the door handle. The moaning grew more intense when I opened the entry, but as I got closer to Julia’s room, it turned into words.
“Please, don’t,” she said. “Please. Please, stop. He didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything.” She groaned again, the pained sound turning into a muffled scream. I opened her door and held my gun up, prepared to shoot any intruders, but the room was empty. Moonlight trickled in through the French patio doors, bathing the space in a soft glow. I stepped closer, tilting my head to the side as her cries grew more despairing.
“Zia, stop it. Please. He had nothing to do…” She trailed off into a mumble, something unintelligible and pained. I squatted in front of the mattress, bringing myself to eye level with her. She gripped the sheets in a tight fist, her knuckles white, and wisps of her hair stuck to her forehead from the sweat of her nightmare.
“Julia,” I said softly, trying not to startle her. She didn’t wake.
“Please, don’t. Please. Please. Let him live.” She thrashed, her body shaking as she cried, small tears tracking down over her cheeks.
“Julia,” I said louder this time, gently brushing hair out of her face to grab her cheek.
She woke on a gasp, snapping her eyes open and jutting a hand out toward me. The cold kiss of metal met my throat, and I stiffened, recognizing the blade in her tiny fist.
“Relax,” I said, holding up my palms, showing her the gun pointed toward the ceiling. “It’s just me.”
She took a long, deep breath, her golden eyes glancing around her room. “What are you doing in here?”
“You were having a bad dream,” I managed to say despite the prick of her blade’s edge digging into my skin. “I was just trying to help.”
“Help?” She still didn’t lower her guard or her weapon. “Do you think scaring me awake in the middle of the night is helping me?”
“Well, it’s certainly better than whatever was happening inside your head,” I said. She pressed the knife harder against my windpipe, and I sat up straighter, trying not to back down but also not wanting to get my throat sliced open. I ignored the lace nightie she had on and the delicate dance of fabric over her perfect perky tits. If there was ever a good time to ogle my new bride, it wasn’t after she’d had a nightmare.
“What were you going to do with that, huh?” She nodded toward my pistol, still in my left hand. “Shoot me in the head to protect me from myself?”
“I thought someone snuck in,” I explained. “I thought someone was hurting you.”
She paused, seeming to consider that for a moment before sneering. “I don’t need your help, Roman.”
“Fine,” I said, and when she didn’t lower the knife, I dropped my hand to her wrist and tenderly…oh so gently…slid it down to her elbow, hoping the contact would ground her, would make her realize she’d nearly murdered her own husband because of whatever she’d been dreaming about.
“What time is it?” Perhaps trying to get me to stop touching her, she moved her weapon away from my neck and looked at her phone, resting on the table next to her bed.
“Two in the morning,” I said, running my fingers back up her forearm, ignoring how soft and delicate her skin was as I took the knife from her grip and placed it next to her phone.
“Were you still awake?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Why?” She furrowed her brows and pouted her lips, and in that moment, I didn’t care about family titles or where she’d come from or what she and her brother might have planned for us. She looked so delicate, so precious, that I wanted to climb into bed next to her, wrap my arms around her, and protect her from every evil thing haunting her.
The thought confused me, so I stood and put distance between us. She’d bled for this war, sacrificed as much as any Rose. I should find a way to trust her, especially if I wanted to have a real marriage with her. But she was still a Caputi, my enemy, and everything I’d been raised to hate. Trust had never come easy to me, and it definitely wouldn’t in this relationship. She wasn’t even trying to meet me halfway.
“Get some sleep, Julia,” I said instead of answering her question. “We’ve got a long road ahead.”
I walked toward her door, but she called out to stop me.
“Roman,” she said, making me turn back to her. “Thank you for being prepared to protect me.” She nodded toward my gun.
“I said you were safe here,” I murmured. “I mean to keep my word.”
“Even if it’s from you?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a cute grin. “What if I have to smack you again?”
“Well, now,” I teased, “let’s not get carried away.”
I closed the door behind me to her soft giggle and took a deep breath to slow my racing pulse. Something tickled the side of my neck and when I reached to swipe it away, my fingers came back crimson. I walked to the primary bathroom in my room and clicked on the light, grimacing at the cut on my throat. It was barely a flesh wound, nothing more than what I might have done shaving, but the thrill of her having caused it sparked something in my gut, echoing down to my balls.
My cock had been half hard when she smacked me earlier in the night, and now that she’d pulled a knife on me, I ached with the need to release. I wanted to hold her down by her little wrists and make her come on my face before burying myself deep inside her.
Yes, I was married to her, but this compulsion was a problem for so many reasons, not the least of which was how deeply her hatred for me ran. Despite agreeing to the patronizing and revolting “procreation” clause in our marital contract, I wouldn’t sleep with a woman who didn’t want me. I wouldn’t force myself on her unless she begged me for it, and I wouldn’t sully the image of our alliance by fucking around with other women, infidelity clause aside.
Which meant only one thing.
Letting out a deep exhale full of regret and self-deprecation, I shucked off my clothes and climbed into the shower. When I fucked my fist thinking about the beautiful half naked woman in the other room, I told myself it was because of physical attraction. Nothing more. And certainly not because of how her ire matched my own in the most delectably deplorable ways.
When I woke up the next morning, I made breakfast for both of us and checked in with my sister. She’d talked to our father that morning and he told her to tell me to keep going with the Caputi truce, despite the Roses that disagreed.
“Shit will even itself out,” he’d said. “But keep an eye on your six.”
I had a shift at the garage, so by the time Julia came downstairs in her fluffy pink robe and matching slippers, the prospects I assigned to guard her had already shown up and posted outside.
“Sleep well?” I asked, ignoring the cute rumpled look on her face.
She dropped her gaze to the nick on my neck before returning to my eyes. “Fine. You?”
I shrugged and lied. “Perfect.”
Julia nodded and headed to the carafe of coffee, opening the cabinet above to grab a mug.
“I have to go to work,” I said. “There are three prospects outside to stand guard.”
“Stand guard?” Julia dropped one spoonful of sugar into her cup before pouring the hot beverage and adding a little bit of cream. I took a mental note just in case that information became useful sometime in our eternity together. “Afraid I’ll tear the place apart?”
I smirked. “Do your worst, wife. We both have to live here. It’s in our contract.”
She scowled, and I scooted the plate of tepid food toward her on the counter. “Here’s breakfast.”
She glanced down at it and raised an eyebrow, perhaps assessing whether I’d dosed it with something lethal. Just to be a menace, I picked up a strawberry and stuck it in my mouth. “It’s not poisoned.”
Julia rolled her eyes and took a drink of coffee. “You don’t seem like the type to kill me in secret.”
“Oh?” Since I had a few more minutes before I’d be late, I entertained her. “And how do you think I’d kill you?”
Julia hummed and ran her gaze over the length of me. “You’d stab me in the heart. You’d make sure the last face I ever saw was yours.”
The thought made me laugh, and perhaps once upon a time, I’d almost done that very thing to her dear brother.
I turned toward the door, throwing a quick, “Don’t burn the place down,” over my shoulder before I pulled it closed behind me. Mick, the prospect just outside, looked at me as I exited. “No one goes in or out without my permission. If she wants to go somewhere, take her, but I need the details.”
“Ten-four, boss,” he said.
I clapped him on the shoulder and headed down to my bike, bringing it to life and taking off toward Rose Garage. It was only eight in the morning, but the humidity was enough to have me sweating by the time I got there, despite only wearing a white T-shirt, my cut, and jeans. I pulled into the parking lot and parked next to Hollywood’s bike, putting out the kick stand before swinging my massive leg over the back and taking off my helmet.
Then I caught sight of a black Crown Vic on the other side of the parking lot and alarm shot down my spine.
What the fuck are the pigs doing here?
I walked inside the office, trying to temper my rage when I found Detective Jordan and her partner, Detective Green, talking to Selene. She stood behind the counter with her hands on the top, chewing a piece of gum. Thor and Hollywood stood behind her, the former with a sledgehammer in his hands, the latter with a huge, charming grin.
“Well, well, well,” I said, tilting my head as I made my way next to my brothers and cousin. “To what do we owe this very great pleasure?” Disdain dripped from my words, and I crossed my arms to show how much I found their presence irritating.
“Roman Montgomery,” Jordan said. “We’ve come to ask about searching the premises.”
I snorted. “And what in God’s good name makes you think we’d agree to that?”
“This land belongs to Aris Washington, correct?”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.
“They were already snooping when I got here,” Thor said.
Green shot his gaze to the brother in question. “The sign says you open at eight. We were here at eight.”
Thor cleared his throat and shifted his stance.
“Do you have a warrant?” I asked.
“No,” Thor and Selene said at the same time.
“Then, there’s the door.” I pointed to the entry. “Kindly fuck off.”
“Your smart mouth is gonna land you in a cell right next to your daddy, son.” Green smirked.
“I’m not your son.” I sneered. “And thank fucking fuck for that. You look like you?—”
“Hey,” Selene cut in, stopping me from letting my attitude get the best of the situation. “If you don’t have a warrant and you’re not taking us in, there’s nothing else to talk about.”
“Roman,” Jordan said, bringing my attention back to her. “Could I have a word?”
I grimaced.
“In private,” she added, causing a glare from her partner. Evidently, she hadn’t cleared this with him beforehand.
I pursed my lips and considered her request. This could lead nowhere good. Nothing she wanted to ask me would work out well for the club, and I’d had enough of her pig shit to last me a lifetime. She’d personally arrested my father, and even though I wasn’t there when it happened, I imagined she gleefully slapped the cuffs on his wrists. She’d had it out for him for years, and if I weren’t so interested in what she had to say, I would have told her to go pound sand.
Instead, I ran my tongue over my teeth and nodded toward the mechanic’s bay. Jordan took the lead, her bright eyes missing nothing as she pushed open the door so I could follow her in.
“So?” I asked when she turned to face me. “What do you want?”
“How are you holding up?” Her features softened, and she brushed her brown hair behind an ear.
“You wanted to talk to me in private to ask how I’m doing?” I balked. “Well, let’s see. My dad’s in lockup and the Caputis are still out there killing my family. How would you feel, detective?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose. “I heard you got married.”
“Oh yeah?” I raised my eyebrows, surprised it had gotten around that quickly. We hadn’t put an announcement in the newspapers yet, and unless she was watching the county registrars like a fucking hawk, she couldn’t have known. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Around.” She shrugged. “Now, it does surprise me you of all people would marry Julia Caputi. Your families have been at odds for years.” She put her hands on her hips. “All of a sudden, you’re bedfellows.”
I chuckled at her mafia reference. “I suppose the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “And how did you and a Caputi princess even come across one another? Would this have anything to do with the rumors I’ve been hearing about Leo?”
Now, I was curious. “What might those be?”
“That he’s still alive and living on Rose territory, cutting deals with the people who held him captive for over six months.”
I trained my features into my best poker face, zeroing my focus to her and her tells. Objectively, she was a beautiful woman. In her early thirties, she had deep ebony skin, defined cheekbones that gave her a model-esque brilliance, and eyes so hazel, they were almost the color of the sun. But her lips quirked when she wasn’t sure about something. If we were playing poker, I’d say she was bluffing. So she might have heard about Leo, but she wasn’t sure, and now she was fishing.
“I don’t know where Leo is,” I said. Which was objectively true. He could be at the house we’d given him or back on Caputi territory, making deals with underbosses. Who the hell could say?
“Hmm. Convenient.” She raised an eyebrow, returning my skepticism.
“You know what’s convenient, detective,” I started. “An FBI raid on my clubhouse at the same time as a Caputi attack twenty miles from here.”
“What are you insinuating?” That seemed to get her attention.
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but if I were you, I’d start looking a little closer to home.”
Jordan didn’t say anything. She trained her features into a stoic expression, one she must have learned in all her years of investigating us lowly criminal scum.
“How did you know our clubhouse would be mostly empty that day?” I continued. “How did the Caputis know you’d be tied up there so they could savage our brothers?”
“Roman,” she said, glancing to the ground, “I’m sorry for your loss, but if you’ve got something to say, out with it.”
“I think someone on the inside is slipping info to the Caputis. I think someone cut a deal, and judging by the look of indifference on your face, you either don’t know or you’re covering it up.”
Her lips twitched again.
She doesn’t know.
“Trust me,” I said, “when I find out who it is, I intend to plug that leak.”
She stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
I laughed cruelly and tried not to sound too much like a cliché. “It’s a promise.”
She pursed her lips, her eyes searching mine for sincerity.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I turned back to the office, where it seemed Thor and Detective Green were in a good old-fashioned stare down.
“Roman,” she called, making me pause to look back at her. “What if I could help your father?”
I didn’t have a comeback to that, cliché or otherwise. “What do you mean?”
“Since we’ve taken both Montgomery and Washington into custody, they’ve said nothing. They’ve been uncooperative at the best of times and downright belligerent the rest of it.”
I huffed to myself. That sounded like them. Both the president and the vice president, Aris, had been arrested that day concerning an attack on the Holabird docks some two years before. It had taken all that time for Jordan to get the evidence she needed to arrest them, and now that she had it, I didn’t see why she’d be willing to help either of them.
“My father’s not a snitch,” I said. “And neither is Aris.”
She stepped forward and put her hands on her hips, lifting her chin to look me in the eye. “What if I could get you visitation rights? What if…what if you tried to talk some sense into him?”
My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I wanted to see my father so badly it itched. But even if I made such a deal, he wouldn’t listen to me. Just like I wouldn’t listen to him if the roles were reversed. He was in the pen with other Roses, other MC members, other outlaws. None of them would suffer a former president with loose lips, no matter how hard his son may plead with him.
“That’s a pretty offer, but it’s no good. Crow won’t do that. You’d be better off trying to paint the sky purple than to get him to talk. But I do wish you luck in both efforts.”
“I want to help him,” she said. “I want the people who hurt your family to find justice, but I can’t ignore all the terrible things he’s done, too.”
Fair enough.
“Find out where your leak is, detective. Then maybe you have a case.”