Slippery slope was the understatement of the century. Kissing Noemi was more like walking up to a black hole—I was helpless against its gravitational pull. One taste of her, and there wasn’t a force on earth great enough to cleanse her from my system.
And her voice. Jesus Christ, her voice.
Husky but feminine, the sound of my name on her lips nearly buckled my knees. And to know I was the first to hear her speak? I didn’t care that the words were coerced from her. I loved knowing I was the only one who’d reached that part of her. Who’d seen past her barriers and coaxed her out from where she’d been hiding. I could have listened to her talk all damn day, but instead, she’d run from me, which sent me spiraling in an entirely different way.
The woman made me insane. I wanted to rage against her hold on me, but a bigger part of me was too preoccupied with need for her surrender. I didn’t want to bleed the truth from her like I would an enemy. I wanted her to lay it at my feet. Freely. Unconditionally.
It would happen, eventually.
For now, I’d give her the space she needed. Whatever had motivated her silence still bound her. It pissed me off that she wouldn’t give me an explanation. I’d get my answers one day soon, and then I’d have her, too.
When I felt madness sinking its claws deep inside me, I tried to convince myself that pursuing her would only make my life worse. Then the darkest parts of me spoke back, arguing that the clawing insistence would subside once I’d had her. That after I’d gained her surrender, the insatiable craving would finally disappear.
Those were blatant lies, and I knew it. Something I fed myself to rationalize away my growing compulsion.
As if the darkness in me had needed a rationale.
When it came to Noemi, I was beyond reason. Infatuation had seized me like a toxin in my blood.
“If that scowl deepens any farther, it’ll mar that pretty face of yours forever.” Shae winked at me, seating herself on my desk.
After my exchange with Noemi, I’d busied myself with errands to keep from thinking. Once I’d run out of tasks, I came in early to the office but had found myself hopelessly distracted.
“Better than what I’ll do to your face if you touch my wife again,” I groused.
Shae’s eyes widened. “Did you two exchange vows I’m unaware of?”
“Semantics. You knew better than to lay a finger on her.” I’d already been in a dark mood, and Shae’s presence wasn’t helping. I’d seen her in action with women and knew she could seduce better than most men. I’d been pissed beyond measure to see them together. Hell, I hadn’t even kissed Noemi at that point. I hardly even knew her, if I was honest, but none of it mattered. Nothing seemed to dilute the feral possessiveness that overcame me where she was concerned.
Shae placed her right hand over her heart and held up the other. “I swear, I won’t touch Noemi from here on out.” Her lips quirked with a devious smirk. “Unless she asks me to.”
“Swear to God, Shae. You’re walking a fine fucking line.”
“Relax, Reid. I’m not moving in on your territory but think about it. She doesn’t know anyone in the family. Us ladies have to stick together, and I can only imagine how isolated I’d feel if I was her, especially not being able to talk.” She shoved off the desk and sauntered to the door. “I just think having a friend would be good for her.” Pausing, she shot me a patronizing look that would have had me drawing my gun if it had been anyone else.
Fucking Shae.
“Just try me, woman, and I will put you on fucking bathroom duty. For life,” I called after her, reclining back in my office chair with the weight of my frustrations.
“Bathroom duty? Damn! What’d she do to earn that?” Bishop filled my doorway, his too-large brown eyes shining with amusement.
“None of your business,” I grumbled. “I’m surprised to see you here. I was starting to think you’d quit and moved in at the gym.” Bishop could be a pain in the ass, but I’d known him all my life. He’d naturally fallen into step as my right hand and knew most everything I did about the business. I trusted him with my life. I still wasn’t interested in sharing my Noemi dilemma with him.
“When the guys called and said they had a guest waiting for me downstairs, I figured I could combine work and pleasure.” He raised the white towel I hadn’t noticed he was carrying, blood smears staining the terry cloth.
I stilled. “You holding out on me?” A prisoner was exactly what I needed to excise some of these demons.
Bishop’s answering grin was almost maniacal. “Albanian was caught sniffing around the 58th Street club this morning. Got him all squared away downstairs.”
“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me?” I pushed to my feet and slipped off my jacket.
“Just loosening him up for ya.”
I marched from my office before I’d even finished rolling up my sleeves. It was a good thing some people never learned because I needed this today.
Our dual-purpose storage room in the basement was currently empty save for a middle-aged man tied to a chair beneath a single pendant light bulb. That, and a small metal table lined with various tools used for persuasion.
Bishop had been right. The guy was bruised and splattered with blood, but no permanent damage had been done. He’d be ready to sing soon.
All the swirling thoughts from earlier settled, and I was filled with a peaceful calm. The certainty of purpose and the joy of revenge.
“I take it our friend here hasn’t been in the mood to talk yet?” I asked Bishop, moseying closer to the table.
“Nah, thinks he’s a big shot.”
Excellent.
I took the cordless drill into my hands, enjoying the feel of its weight. When I turned toward our prisoner, his eyes briefly flashed with terror before his pathetic mask fell back into place. That was my favorite part. Watching just how quickly they broke.
“We don’t have to do this, my friend. Just tell me what your boss is planning, and this can all be over quickly.” Please, please don’t.
He glared at me through glassy black eyes, then spit at me.
I love it when they act tough.
I revved the drill and buried the tip into his knee, pushing the drill bit down into bone and cartilage.
Hysterical wails filled the room.
The drill was highly effective, so I didn’t have to go too deep before they started talking. Once I heard his cries, I stood back and looked at him expectantly. The man’s face was lowered, obscuring it from view.
“I don’t have all day, asshole,” I deadpanned.
When the man lifted his face to mine, what I’d thought were sobs was, in fact, maniacal laughter.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” he said, his words lightly accented and raspy from pain. “The Mancini girl is quite the prize. Would be a shame … to lose such a … sweet little cunt.” He could hardly hold up his head but still managed to smile triumphantly because he knew he’d struck a nerve by the vengeful wrath that darkened my face.
Rage like I’d never known seized me, stealing all rational thought and launching me into action.
I pulled the gun out from the waistband of my pants and shot him in the gut. I couldn’t help myself. I had to punish him for spewing such filth and having the gall to speak to me about my fiancée.
“Well, shit. You really shouldn’t have done that,” Bishop said over the Albanian’s screams.
Yes and no. I’d wanted to end his life then and there, but I wouldn’t deny myself the pleasure of knowing he suffered. “You have any idea how long it takes to die of a gut shot? We still have plenty of time. And maybe, if he asks really, really nicely, I’ll put a bullet in his brain before it’s all over.”
Bishop chuckled. “Guess I better settle in.”
I grunted, feeling a smidge better. Not only would the Albanian die but he’d probably also tell us everything we wanted to know by the time he took his last breath, and I’d be able to send him home with a maggot-infested wound and pain etched into every crevice of his ugly face.
Life was all about finding the silver lining.
