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Her face turned ghostly white, and she swayed slightly. I reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. “Shit, cara, you really didn’t know?”
“No,” she whispered in a pained voice, tears filling her deep green eyes.
My throat went dry, and I pulled her closer to me, holding her up so that she wouldn’t fall to the floor.
I’d known about what Lorenzo had done; he had told me. I didn’t know why he had killed Jason, I didn’t ask questions, I just presumed the guy had been a traitor or some shit. Maybe he had been, but I had no idea what she had been to him. When she said that he had been her brother my initial thought had been that she was seriously messed up to even sleep with Lorenzo, but somehow that didn’t seem right, so I guessed she was using him, playing him so that she could hurt him. It was what I would’ve done. Messed with the guy who killed my family. Get close, and then kill him myself when he thought he was safe.
But she’d had no idea.
Her body was trembling against mine and I had to swallow hard to keep myself composed. I could feel her pain, I knew what loss felt like, but I couldn’t allow myself to relate to her too much. I couldn’t allow myself to truly stop hating her. I’d been responsible for this though; I had opened my mouth and the truth had come out.
Why the fuck had hurting her made me feel so shit though?
“What the fuck is this?” Lorenzo snarled as he appeared behind Mallory, and I shot him an apologetic look.
“You,” she hissed and pushed away from me to face Lorenzo. “You killed him,” she said shakily, but she held herself tall and closed in on him. I wasn’t sure if she was brave as fuck, or a complete idiot.
“I kill a lot of people, amore, please be specific,” Lorenzo said flatly, ignoring the emotions radiating from her.
“Jase.” Her voice broke into a watery sob, and I fought with every fibre in my body to resist moving closer to her. Instead, I stood back and watched as my stepdad’s eyes met mine and turned pitch black.
He snapped his attention back to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s talk somewhere a little more private,” he said, and guided her away from the bar. She pushed his hand away and marched ahead of him out of the ballroom doors, and he threw a furious glare back at me.
Fuck.
I turned back to the bar and ordered myself a large whiskey, then took the drink and left the ballroom. I couldn’t stay in there, not knowing that two short tempered killers were somewhere in this hotel possibly hurting each other. I sat on one of the small white sofas in the marbled foyer and undid the buttons of my jacket.
People came in and out of the foyer, some leaving, some booking rooms, all of them happy and at least a little intoxicated. A man came over to me after a while and informed me that the meal would begin in ten minutes if I wished to go back into the ballroom. I told him that the three of us would be skipping the meal, and requested that he tell anyone who asked about our whereabouts that we had called it a night due to Mal feeling unwell. I supposed I could do a little damage control; it would be good practice for when I was running things.
I grabbed my phone and scrolled though the numbers, not that I had many, and pulled up Coopers number, smirking at his saved name, Captain Dickface, then pressed call.
“Adonis, is something wrong?” he asked when he answered, he was out of breath, but I wasn’t going to ask what he was up to, I didn’t care.
“Fucking obviously,” I said bluntly. “The boss and your best friend might be dead.”
“What? Fuck, what’s happened?” he exclaimed, sounding panicked.
“I didn’t know that Mallory didn’t know Enzo was the one who killed Jason,” I said casually, swirling the liquid in my glass as I began to briefly explain. “So now she knows, and she’s not happy about it. They disappeared about twenty minutes ago. I’m presuming they are still in the hotel, but God knows if either of them are alive.”
“Hang the fuck on. What?” Cooper practically shouted. “Lorenzo killed Jase?”
Fuck. Did no one in The Brotherhood know about that?
“Yes,” I said, feeling exasperated. “So I need you to do your techy shit and find out where they are.”
“Adonis, you can’t just drop shit like that on people,” he hissed. “Fuck, right, fuck, okay,” he rambled on. “I can access the hotel’s cameras. I might be able to find them, hang on.”
I heard tapping coming from the other end of the line and threw the rest of my drink back as I waited.
“Got’em,” he finally said. “Wow she looks angry.” Of course she looks angry, dickwad. “They are in the ladies’ room to your left, looks like they’ve locked the door from the inside because three women have tried and failed to get inside. How haven’t you noticed that?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes.
“I’m a little bit stressed and distracted right now, pretty boy,” I snarled, and he growled back at me.
“As am I, and I still noticed. I swear to god, Adonis, if anything happens to her, fuck. Adonis, you keep her safe.” He practically begged.
“It might be too late,” I said quietly.
“Don’t,” he snapped. “Just make sure she’s okay. I’m watching.”
I put my phone back into my pocket and stared at the bathroom door and waited, holding back the urge to beat the door down. A knot was twisting in my stomach. I didn’t want her dead. I didn’t want him dead either. He wasn’t my Dad, but he was the next best thing, part of me felt something towards him. Familial love or not, it was something.
The door flew open, and Lorenzo came storming out. He ignored me and headed towards the ballroom doors, he paused, straightened his tie, composed his expression, smiling, then pushed through the doors as if nothing had happened.
My eyes snapped back to the bathroom door and a few moments later Mal came walking out, tugging her hair loose and tossing hairpins on the floor. I released a breath that I didn’t know I’d been holding and stood up. Her eyes met mine and she shook her head at me then ran to the main doors. I followed after her as she flew down the outside steps and managed to catch her arm as she hit the bottom step. I turned her to face me and a growl tore through my throat.
“He did this to you. He hurt you.” Blood was trickling from her lip down her chin.
“What does it matter to you?” she shot back with a deep frown lining her forehead.
I grasped her chin in my hand and ran my thumb over her lip, wiping blood and lipstick across her face. “He doesn’t get to do this to you,” I muttered. “Come on, lets go.” I dropped her face and pulled her arm.
She twisted herself out of my grip and made to move away from me. I shot in front of her and was met with the cold metal of her pocketknife sliding up my chest towards my throat. “Where’s the bike?” she asked.
“Cara,” I began, and she pressed the blade hard against my skin, piercing the flesh and sending a warm trickle of blood towards my crisp, white collar.
“The bike, Adonis,” she repeated, and her eyes filled with tears again.
The voice in my head screamed at me to not let her go, to not let her leave, alone, in this state. Yet when I looked into her eyes, I knew I wouldn’t fight with her. I pulled the key from my pocket and directed her to where I’d left my bike and had to hope that she knew what the hell she was doing. I could not have her death on my conscience.
She dropped the blade from my throat and gave me a grateful look. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, searching for words then pursing her lips. She grabbed my shirt in her fist, tugged hard, and her bloody lips collided with mine. My hands instinctively grasped her waist, and I dragged her in closer. She pulled away a breath later and shoved me hard before she turned and ran away towards the parking lot. A blur of fiery red hair and emerald silk.
I stared at the place where she had been standing, my hands balling into fists, hating what she had done. Hating that I was struggling to cling to any reason for hating her. And hating that I wanted her to come back.
She had tasted of blood, and fury, and grief. And I wanted more.
I wanted a woman I’d never be able to have.