Chapter Two
Marco
HE KNEW Rome was holding himself back, that almost indiscernible tick of his jaw the only giveaway of his anger, but nothing Rome did or said would change his mind. He’d decided that this was the best course of action, and he wasn’t backing down now.
“They won’t be happy about this,” Rome said, voice smooth and emotionless.
“I couldn’t care less about their happiness,” he said pointedly to Rome.
And there was that tick again.
“If they don’t like it, they can take it up with my gun.”
He wasn’t afraid of the Destroyers. He wasn’t about to let them expand into his territory. Well, technically, it wasn’t his yet, but it would be. The Destroyers knew better than to pick a fight over Fell’s Point. It would never belong to them. Now, the Kings on the other hand? Of those two motorcycle clubs, the Kings were the only ones he had any kind of respect for. Their president was not a man he wanted to get on the bad side of.
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Rome muttered.
Marco didn’t have to ask what he meant. The Destroyers might try to hit him, but they would never succeed. His men on the other hand? His distributors? Innocent bystanders? They could easily get to them. Which was why he needed the Kings on his side. It was the only way they could avoid bloodshed. The Destroyers weren’t strong enough to take on both of them.
He rested his arms on the railing and looked up at the submarine that had its home in Baltimore’s harbor. It had been a museum for longer than he’d been alive. Mamma had taken him and his sister to see it countless times as kids. That and the aquarium. Alicia had always made them finish their trip at the Cheesecake Factory in the harbor. Those had been good times. Before Mamma died. Before he’d truly understood who and what their family were.
He knew from the way Rome tensed that the Salvation Kings had arrived. He took a second to just look at the water splashing against the sides of the submarine before he straightened and turned around.
King was a military man turned president of a motorcycle club he’d founded years ago. They usually stayed on their respective sides of their territory. The harbor was neutral ground for them both, though. King wasn’t a small man, and his leather cut laid perfectly on his broad shoulders. Anyone who looked at the man would know to fear him. He had two men with him, and they didn’t exactly look happy to see Marco.
“We’re here,” King said, voice deep and irritated. “What do you want?”
“I know you’re having some trouble purchasing a certain property.”
King’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “What’s it to you?”
“I can have the red tape removed for you.”
King crossed his arms and said, “And why would you do that?”
“I need an ally.”
He knew he was giving King the upper hand by admitting it, but he preferred the man feeling in control because if King thought he had none, he had no doubt the man would react appropriately.
“I doubt you’re a fan of the Destroyers, either. Keeping them from trying to take over our city would be in the best interest of us both.”
He knew he had King exactly where he wanted him from the look that entered the man’s eyes. He knew King loved this city as much as he did. Maybe even more.
“And how do you suggest we do that?” King asked.
“Simple,” Marco said, meeting King’s gaze. “We show a united front. They’re not stupid enough to want to fight both of us.”
King nodded slowly.
“If you’re anything like your father, I know you’ll keep your word,” Kings said and extended his hand. When Marco grasped it, King said, “If you don’t, it’ll be worse for yourself.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Marco said, a smile widening his lips.
He watched King and his men walk back down the pier and wasn’t surprised to see quite a few bikers waiting for them on their motorcycles at the other end of the pier.
He waited until the Kings had taken off before heading back to the car, Rome at his side.
“I can’t tell if getting laid made you less or more reckless,” Rome said, giving Marco a perplexed look.
A grunt was his only answer because, truthfully, he didn’t know the answer to that either. Neil had left an impression on him unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. A part of him wanted to track him down. The other part feared that he’d lose himself in the man if he did.
He barely had time for sex. Anything else? No, he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted those startling gray eyes to look at him with need and desire in them again. They were better off away from each other. Especially considering who they were.
Sleeping with an intelligence officer was insane. Having more with one? Utter madness. And yet, that pull he felt toward Neil didn’t seem to want to go away. He couldn’t get the man out of his head. He was really going mad, wasn’t he? His sister would have a good laugh about it, he was sure. Her stone-cold, no-nonsense brother having some sort of a relationship with a spook? She would tease him endlessly.
The fact that he was still thinking about it, about Neil, didn’t bode well for him or his heart.