Marrying the Mob Prince

Tony

2 oz vodka

1 oz Kahlua

splash of heavy cream

We finally made a move against Legion.

We’d acted on Knox’s intelligence and hired Rage Machine to break into a warehouse in Chelsea, which would supposedly cripple their drug supply network, but the small pyramid of cocaine taunted me. Street value was a measly twenty grand, at best.

I stood on a rooftop. Cainan had his back against the cityscape, arms crossed. He pushed a dark curl from his forehead. His pale skin gleamed bone-white. He stood tall, unwavering. A ghost of a smile touched his lips when I approached.

I hurled the duffel bag at Cainan’s feet. “This is what I’m risking my life for?”

The devil never got his hands dirty. He couldn’t be seen disrupting Legion’s affairs. I’d always respected that. We needed someone on the inside, but more and more I wondered if I was just his attack dog.

Fetch. Retrieve. Kill.

Cainan raised his head, meeting my gaze without flinching. “You agreed to do everything in your power to bring them down. This is what that looks like.”

“We’ve been at this for years, Cainan. I would’ve thought after all this effort we would’ve made some progress!”

Cainan stepped away from the edge, his voice softening. “Legion is a conglomerate. Did you think it’d be easy? That they’d fall overnight? They have chapters all over the country and around the world. It is working but it will be slow. I told you that in the beginning.”

“All I ever do is waste my fucking time for you.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

He smirked, boiling my blood. “Tony, what would you’ve done otherwise? Where would you be, if it weren’t for me?”

Back in that prison.

I was breathless with fury.

I held up a finger in warning. “Careful.”

“I don’t have to be anything. That’s the difference between you and me.”

“There’s a lot separating us, you sick fuck.”

“If I’m sick, what does that make you?” A thin chill hung to his words, raking my skin. “Maybe you need a reminder of what you did on the island. The choices you made.”

“Yes, I did terrible things. And I’ll have to live with them forever.”

“Tony, I’m not trying to goad you.” His smile told a different story. He was a sadist, through and through. “I respect you. I don’t like most people, but I like you. That’s why I invited you into the Circle.”

“I only care about destroying Legion.”

“We’re going to get them. We will. But you need to trust the process. And for God’s sake, drop the self-torture already. You take this too seriously. You did what you had to. That’s all any man can do.”

Surviving wasn’t enough.

Not anymore.

A chime echoed from my pocket. Thank God, a distraction. I grabbed my phone, stepping away from Cainan.

I answered it. “Yeah?”

Christian rasped through the speaker. “Evie’s at the club.”

* * *

God was testing me.

He gave me a biker wife to teach me something. Patience. Humility. Grace. Was I supposed to find any of that in this internment camp?

Rows of dilapidated mobile homes filled the east side of the MC’s property. Children played behind the huge brick building. A basketball thumped the pavement. A grill sizzled nearby. Families ate on picnic tables under the setting sun. A group of kids streaked past us, one of them halting in his tracks. Harley-Davidson logos plastered his small chest. A brown mark smudged his freckled nose.

His widened gaze took in my suit. “Who are you?”

I knelt beside him. “Tony. What’s your name?”

“Um-Lincoln.”

He held out his hand and I shook it, eerily reminded of the street kids in Dorchester. I scanned his body for bruises, finding none. “Do you know Evie? She’s my wife.”

“She’s your wife?”

“Yes. I need to bring her home.” I smiled as the boy stuck his hands in his sandy-blond hair. “Any idea where she is?”

“The clubhouse.” The child shifted from foot to foot. “It’s the big red building.”

“Thanks, Lincoln. I appreciate it.” I grabbed my wallet and slipped out a ten, tucking it in his palm. “Here you go, kid. Buy yourself some candy.”

“Wow. Thanks!”

I patted his head. Too bad I didn’t have something better to give him.

I followed Christian to the brick clubhouse, which pounded with a muffled rock beat. Staring at the black doors roiled my stomach but Christian seemed at ease.

The doors opened into a bar and game room. It was a dive. Stale beer and cigarette smoke choked the air, so not my scene. Club sluts mingled about in tube tops and cutoffs. They shot Christian and me incredulous looks. No doubt we looked ridiculous in slacks, overdressed to the nth degree.

A bottle rolled under my feet, and I kicked it aside.

“This place is a sty.”

Christian grunted. “I don’t know why you let her come here.”

“I’ve tried everything to discourage it short of chaining her to the goddamned penthouse, but I’m nobody’s jailer.”

Christian scanned the row of arcades. His attention fell on a woman in leggings. She cradled a blond boy who wrapped his chubby fingers on a joystick. Christian’s tanned face broke with a laugh.

“Jennesy?”

The pink-haired girl whirled around. “Christian! Ohmigod. What are you doing here?”

“Picking up Evie.” He leaned in, waving at her baby. “Who’s this?”

“My son, Benjamin.”

“I’m Christian. Nice to meet you, buddy.” Christian tickled his cheek, and the baby grinned. “Are you teaching him how to play Asteroids?”

“Hah-no. He just likes the music and lights.” Jennesy’s grin widened at Christian, who seemed taken with her. “Geez, you’re tall. What are you, six-four?”

“Six-two.”

She beamed at him. “I bet you have girls climbing you all day long.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m constantly beating them back.”

“So modest. I love it.”

I could’ve gagged.

I grabbed Christian’s arm. “Get her number, and let’s go.”

“You must be Costa.” Jennesy’s unimpressed tone matched the disdain in her eyes. “Evie’s not happy with you.”

Shocking. “Where is she?”

“Somewhere.”

“I don’t have time for this. Tell me where my wife is.”

Christian’s elbow jabbed my stomach as I stepped forward. He shot me a venomous look. Fantastic. My backup was white-knighting a chick he’d talked to for three seconds.

“How about this?” Christian suggested warmly. “Point us in her direction, and I’ll take you and Benjamin out for dinner.”

Jennesy perked up. “When?”

“Whenever you want.”

“Tomorrow. But I’ll get a sitter for Ben.”

“Deal.” Christian offered his hand, and the baby grasped his pinkie. “See you, little guy.”

They exchanged numbers, and then Jennesy gestured down the hall. “She’s in Ghost’s room. The sixth door on the left.”

That name punctured my chest.

She went to him?

Why? What did that fucking kid have that I didn’t?

Regret pulsed through me in sickening waves, reminding me that my actions had consequences. When I pushed her away, she ran straight into the arms of a man who gave her more-the biker boy.

I stormed the hallway, groping for my gun before realizing it wasn’t there. Muffled raised voices echoed from inside. The hairs on my neck stood. I kicked the door in.

The kid from my wedding grappled with my wife. Tears stained Evie’s cheek as she screamed something incoherent. Red smeared Evie’s chin like a blazing flag.

Blood.

My body throbbed.

I ripped him off her and pounced on Ghost. He barely got his hands up. I seized his neck, shoving his head into the wall, smashing through plaster. I dug into his soft flesh, squeezing. Lights popped in my head as though I were strangled. I clocked him in the jaw and sent him flying. Crimson sprayed from his nose. I bashed in his ear, his shit-eating grin. Every part of him I could reach. I stomped on his fingers. I introduced his head to the table and the floor.

Screaming. Someone yelled. A nagging sensation registered in my knuckles. Shockwaves rippled up my arm, and then the world exploded into bright red. My hands were slippery and hot.

The boy rolled on his back, leather cut splayed open. He was shattered. It was like I’d taken a meat tenderizer to him. He made gurgling sounds.

I kicked him between his legs.

“Tony, let him go!” Christian shouted, grabbing me. “You’ll get us killed!”

I hurled Christian off me, and then Evie took my wrists. The image of her battered face stabbed somewhere deep. I was angry-I was scared. My vision clouded with incomplete scenes. Evie alone with this man. Him beating her into submission. Raping her.

The agony cleaved into my skull.

I closed my eyes and jerked on my hair, distracting myself from the pain. The memories. I yanked as tears stung my eyes. Tears I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to feel.

Fuck it all.

All I wanted was to save her.

White Russian. A milky drink materialized. Two ounces vodka. One ounce Kahlua. A splash of heavy cream-

I couldn’t stop seeing it. Ice gripped my throat.

“Tony.”

Evie’s tearful voice snapped me out of it. I met her gaze. She peered at me cautiously but said nothing. She didn’t ask what was wrong. She didn’t have to.

She probably already knew.

Evie gave me a bear hug that squeezed air from my lungs. I clung to her like a drowning man on a raft. Panic faded to overwhelming relief, and then her mouth brushed my cheek. Lips softer than feathers pressed into mine.

Our mouths met in a clash of heat. It burned into my chest. She tasted clean. Intoxicating. Like a glass of top-shelf vodka straight from the freezer, smooth and deeply satisfying. She drew me closer and crushed my mouth, her kisses drugging me with every soft stroke. Evie’s hands caressed my back, gliding over my scars to hook onto my shoulders.

This felt different.

She held me like a wife who’d missed her husband after too many months apart. Her lips slammed into mine, the wave of passion knocking me backward. My mouth covered hers hungrily. She slipped her tongue inside, sending spirals of ecstasy through me. She was an OxyContin high, the pleasure swift and delirious.

Too much.

Not enough.

I wanted more. Needed more. My greed demanded all of her, everything from her chocolate-colored hair to her toes. I ached to fuck her ruthlessly, ravish her, kiss her, be inside her, hold her. My heart thrashed as I shoved her against the wall.

Evie pushed me, hard enough so that I stopped. We gripped each other, breathing like we finished a marathon. She looked at me, and the storm in my head quieted.

“Let’s go home.”