Chapter Ten #3
use. Because for that reason right there, you aren’t better than me, asshole.”
“That’s an interesting, but erroneous, comparison.”
“Whatever,” the guy muttered.
“I’ve never raped a woman.”
“Oh, good. You’re a saint,” he bit back.
“I’ve never ordered a woman to be raped.”
“Whatever, motherfucker, just end this.”
“The games I play, every player knows the score.”
“Jesus, put you in a suit, you’re a superhero.”
“The point I’m trying to make is, she was an innocent woman
walking through a parking lot not having any idea someone was going to commit a
violent act using her body to do it. And what I’m trying to understand is how
you could be that someone who’d commit that violent act using an innocent woman
to do it.”
“I mighta got my bell rung pretty
fuckin’ good by those two fuckin’ assholes, but I’m not missin’
your point.”
Simply out of curiosity, Marcus asked, “Have you done this
before?”
“Never taken it all the way.” He suddenly sneered at Marcus,
showing him a set of bloody teeth, of which three were missing in a way Marcus
knew they’d only been recently lost. “Your girl was my first.” The sneer faded
and a different kind of ugliness replaced it as he shook his head. “But no
bitch disrespects me. No bitch. I had my way of communicatin’
that, and I don’t give a fuck I’m on my knees, I got no regrets. A bitch has it
comin’, that’s just the way. You’re too weak to get
that, not my problem.”
At that, Marcus heard from behind him Brady pull in a hiss
of breath through his teeth.
This was not because the man on his knees had insulted
Marcus.
Or, not entirely.
It was because Brady had three younger sisters and two
shit-for-brains parents that got their asses incarcerated, one three weeks
after the other, leaving an eighteen-at-the-time Brady the only one who could
look after those girls like Marcus’s sister had done, or let them hit the
system.
He’d decided to look after his sisters.
Fortunately, he’d found Marcus not long after and Marcus
helped him do that.
Nevertheless, for obvious reasons, Brady, like Marcus,
wasn’t a big fan of any man thinking it’s just the way if “a bitch has it comin’.”
Down low, Marcus swung a hand slightly out and he felt the
heat of Brady’s anger at his back subside.
He’d taught Brady the lesson about rage too.
Marcus focused again on the man.
“She was going to get her lip gloss.”
“Do I care?”
“Her laugh sounds like bells.”
“Again, asswipe, do I care?”
Again, Marcus studied him and he did it for a good length of
time.
Closely.
“No,” Marcus finally said, speaking quietly. “You don’t. You
don’t care. And that’s it. That’s why you could do what you did. Because you
don’t care. I was right. You’re nothing but an animal.”
“You think I’m gonna beg for
mercy, I’m not, fuckwad. Again, don’t give a fuck
she’s convinced you different. That gash don’t matter. Most gash don’t matter.
But her? She’s a fucking stripper!”
The gunshot echoed loud through the room.
The man slumped to his back.
Marcus turned, Brady came to his side, and Marcus handed him
the gun.
“You’ll coordinate things with Dom?” he asked.
Brady nodded.
Marcus took that in.
Then he walked out of the warehouse.
Sitting in the back of his car, Ronald driving, the
phone held to his ear, Marcus heard it ring three times before Smithie answered
with, “It’s after four in the fuckin’ morning.”
“It’s done.”
There was silence then, “What’s done?”
“Daisy’s safe.”
More silence before a muttered, “That Nightingale guy.”
Marcus said nothing.
“This does not make me happy,” Smithie announced.
Marcus felt his neck get tight. “How can this not make you
happy?”
“’Cause, brother, whatever got done got done without me gettin’ my licks in.”
Marcus let out a breath. “You’re not that man.”
“Maybe you don’t know me too good.”
“I know you, Smithie, and you’re not that man. But I am.”
“Fuck,” Smithie bit out, his way of conceding the point.
“She’s safe. It’s done. We can all move on.”
Abruptly, Smithie asked, “You love her?”
Without hesitation, Marcus answered, “Yes.”
Smithie was back to muttering. “Fuck, now I gotta find a new dancer.”
Marcus smiled into the dark. “She likes to dance, Smithie,
but yes. Eventually, she’ll be busy having our children, and my guess is Daisy
will feel the need to put all her attention into that.”
“I like you enough to hope you don’t have girls,” Smithie
mumbled.
Marcus hoped he did.
“Thank you for being the first man in her life she could
trust,” Marcus said.
Again, there was silence.
After Marcus gave him time for that, Smithie replied, “Thank
you for bein’ the second.”
Then Smithie hung up.
Marcus flipped his phone shut and turned his head to look
out the window in order to watch Denver slide by on his way home to Daisy.
“Boss,” Ronald growled.
Marcus stared out the windshield at Lee Nightingale standing
beside the elevator doors, arms crossed on his chest, one booted foot up, the
sole resting against the concrete.
Yes, Nightingale was good.
Marcus’s building was secure. In other words, it had armed
security guards that looked after everyone, not just Marcus. There were codes.
There were monitored cameras. And Nightingale looked like he’d been waiting for
some time, undisturbed.
“It’s okay,” Marcus said.
Ronald swung into his spot and bit out, “Fuck!” as Marcus
threw open his own door.
Lee pushed away from the wall. Marcus closed his door and
met him halfway across the short space.
Nightingale shoved his hand in his pocket as Ronald warned,
“Not another move.”
“It’s fine, Ronald,” Marcus said, not looking from
Nightingale.
He pulled his hand out of his pocket, lifted it, and from
his fingers dropped a necklace—delicate gold chain, at the bottom a row of
pearls.
“Wasn’t the time to give you this an hour ago,” Nightingale
muttered.
Marcus lifted his hand palm up.
Nightingale let the pearls go and they fell into his hand.
His fingers closed around it.
“Do you work on retainer?” Marcus asked.
Lee Nightingale’s head twitched.
And then he smiled.
Marcus slid into bed beside Daisy, gliding a hand
over the silk at her belly and pulling her back into his front.
He curled into her.
Her fingers curled to link through his at her middle.
“Everything good?” she asked sleepily.
He buried his face in her hair.
“Everything is perfect.”
Her fingers tensed in his.
He pulled her deeper into his body and whispered, “You’re
safe now, darling.”
At that, her entire body tensed.
She let his hand go, turned in his arm, and slid hers around
him.
He could feel her gaze in the dark.
“Are you okay?”
Marcus tangled his legs with hers.
“I’m fine, honey.” He gave her a squeeze. “Are you?”
“Peachy.”
He grinned.
She snuggled closer.
“Love you, baby,” she whispered.
“Love you too, darling.”
She stiffened then melted in his arms.
He’d had to wait to say it. He’d had to wait until he knew
he’d done all he could to make it as right as he could make it.
He’d done that.
So he said it.
“A dream,” she murmured.
“Sorry?”
“You. You’re the dream a girl like me never thought she
could dream.”
She was right. She’d told him she’d never given herself a
prince charming.
But now she had one in the way he came.
So all that was left was to build her a castle.
And Marcus was going to take care of that too.