father’s old chair, I roll my neck, but it does jack shit to release the tension pinching my shoulders. Restlessness crawls under my skin like an itch, and it’s only when I realize I’ve spent more time glancing toward the study door than poring over the port’s traffic logs on the desk, do I realize Rory is the source of it.
Christ, if I could spend all day watching her sleep, I would. Skin warm and mouth parted, her golden curls tangled on the pillow. I want to watch over her, protect her like a fucking rabid guard dog. But unfortunately, I can’t protect her simply by watching her.
Grunting in frustration, I grip the back of my neck and force myself to stare at the logs again. I’ve spent nine years chairing an investment company for fuck’s sake. I’m used to working with spreadsheets populated with numbers a hundred times bigger than this, yet I can’t seem to make sense of them.
My obsession with her is maddening.
Just as I’m starting to settle, floorboards at the end of the hall creak, making my abs tighten.
She appears in the doorway, a mix of sleep and confusion smeared over her perfect features. I lean back and rake an unapologetic gaze over her body. Okay, I definitely need to get her clothes and fast, because her prancing around, wearing my sweaters and shirts as dresses, is going to drive me insane.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“To do what?” Amusement prickles my lips at her frown. “Come here.”
She rounds the desk and the moment she’s within arm’s reach, I tug her onto my lap and cave to my addiction. Breathe in her warm scent and run my hands up her bare thighs. Fuck, she’s so small and delicate. So breakable. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I wrap my arms tighter around her waist, as if someone’s going to burst into the office at any moment and try to take her from me.
I’ve spent nine years carving out a new life for myself, one as far away from Devil’s Dip as possible. And yet, in just a fistful of weeks, I’ve given it all up. Moved back to the town I hate, started a civil war with my own fucking family, all for her. A girl that curses in bird puns, eats enough sugar to be pre-diabetic, and is addicted to petty revenge.
Oh, not to mention she’s almost young enough to be my daughter. Sometimes, I think I must be fucked in the head. I was up at the crack of dawn like a crazed man, and dedicated my morning to making her feel as comfortable and as protected as possible. Her father’s caregivers are now on my payroll, and the cunts who dared to touch her are chilling at the bottom of the Pacific with the help of a couple of bricks tied to their ankles. Suddenly, I realize I’ve gone from killing one man a month as part of our Sinners Anonymous tradition, to averaging one hit a week, and all of them trace back to her.
Her breath skitters over my neck, and the way it makes my dick tingle pisses me off. I hate her hold over me; it makes me feel weak and pathetic. I slap her thigh and nip on the shell of her ear.
“You need to wear more clothes around the house, baby. If I catch one of Gabe’s men so much as glancing in your direction, I’ll carve their eyeballs out.”
Her chuckle is sleepy and content against my chest. “Okay.”
I rake my fingers through her hair. Christ, she has so fucking much of it, it’s all-consuming. “I’ll send a personal shopper over this afternoon.” I pause. “Do they have them here?”
Another laugh, followed by a playful slap on my chest. I grab her hand and graze my mouth over her knuckles. “It’s Devil’s Dip, not New York. I’ll just go into town.”
I still, and I know she feels it, because she looks up at me from under those thick lashes. “You’re not leaving this house until it’s safe, Rory.”
She bolts upright. “Why isn’t it safe?”
“It’s not your problem to worry about, baby. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”
She pushes against my chest, pinning me with an angry glare. “No. I want you to tell me, I want to be kept in the loop. I’m sick of not knowing—I didn’t know Alberto didn’t have the power to tear down the Devil’s Preserve, and I didn’t know what you were up to when you disappeared for a whole week. Don’t keep me in the dark!” Frustration flecks her tone, and even though it’s adorable when she gets angry, a hot urge to bend her over my desk and spank her for her insolent tone crawls under my skin. But I don’t have time for that right now, so I push it down and stroke her cheek with my knuckle.
“I’m not going to tell you everything Rory.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I grip her jaw and growl, “And that’s non-negotiable. But, I’ll tell you what I think you need to know. Deal?”
By the annoyance smeared on her face, I know it’s not good enough. Reluctantly, she nods.
“I killed Alberto, and now Dante is the new capo of Devil’s Cove. It’s not going to be clear sailing, and if I know him, the revenge will come cold and calculated. He already has a pre-established army, and he’s always had his sights set on Dip.”
When panic crosses her features, I tighten my grip on her jaw and tilt her face up to meet mine. “There’s nothing to worry about, baby. I’ve got Gabe, who’s building out an army twice the size of Dante’s as we speak. And then there’s Rafe, who’s everything Dante wishes he was.”
She plays with the blade of my tie, chewing on her bottom lip. “Is there going to be a war?”
It’s instinctive to tell her no, but when she looks up at me with those big, whiskey-colored eyes, I know I can’t fucking lie to her. “Yes,” I say simply. “I don’t know when it’s coming, but it’ll come. I’ll be working long hours, and I won’t make it home to you every night.”
I study her for a while, tense as I wait for her reaction. I’m surprised when a shy grin spreads across her face. “It’s kind of exciting.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I flick her button nose and pull her tighter into me. Her dark streak is small and innocent, but it’s one of the sexiest things about her.
“Not for you. You’ll be holed up here surrounded by security for a little while.”
Something flickers across her features. Something between disappointment and regret.
“Rory, look at me.” I don’t give her a choice, threading my fingers into her hair and clamping my palms against her cheeks. “I am not Alberto. You’re not really my captive, but you are mine. I need to keep you safe, but I’ll do my best to give you the world.” I run a thumb over her pillowy bottom lip. “As long as the world fits inside the walls of this house. Okay?”
She nods. Pulls out of my grip and grazes her lips over the curve of my throat. I groan into her hair, fisting it at her nape. “Don’t tease me, baby girl. I don’t have time.”
She stills at my collar. “Why? Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a meeting with Gabe and Rafe.”
“Oh. Can I…?”
“Spit it out, Rory.”
She brushes a curl away from her face and looks up at me nervously. “Can I have a friend over?”
My gaze darkens. “What friend?”
“Just Tayce.”
“The tattoo girl?”
She nods, and I chew this over for a second. “Give Gabe a list of friends, and he’ll have them vetted, and then they can come and go as they please. But yes, she can come round.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, lighting up in a way that makes me want to give her everything she’s ever fucking asks for. I know I will, anyway. “Can I uh, use your cell?”
My eyes thin. “Where’s yours?”
“I just have the burner Alberto gave me.”
Of course. I’d forgotten what a tight fucking leash Big Al kept her on. I fish it out of my pocket and toss it onto the desk. “I’ll get you your own cell, and anything else you need. Write a list.”
She smiles, curling her hand around my iPhone. “Lists, lists, lists. You really are a businessman, aren’t you?”
I let out a hiss of breath and twist the fabric of her sweater. Her eyes widen as I suddenly rise to my feet, spin her round and pin her between my thighs and the desk, before winding my hand in her hair and bending her over.
Fuck it, I’ll make time.
My belt leaves my slacks with a loud thwap. “I’ll show you exactly what type of man I am, baby.”
Seek hope where the air is salty and the cliffs are steep.
That’s what the fortune cookie said. The one I brought from the chick in San Francisco’s Chinatown. It held the exact same fortune that convinced my mom to move here all those years ago.
Sure, they are all made in the same factories; a coincidence rather than fate. But it led me to Rory, and I like to think my mom had something to do with that.
I’m standing on the edge of the cliff, toying with the cigarette packet in my slacks. It suddenly dawns on me that I haven’t smoked since I brought Rory home. I guess I haven’t felt as stressed, now that I know she’s safe.
Charcoal-colored clouds hang low in the sky, the air crackling in anticipation underneath them. The wind carries over a familiar purr of a sport’s car, and a few moments later, Rafe’s shoulder is grazing mine.
The click-clack of tossed dice in his hands accompanies his words. “All yours now, brother.”
I huff out a laugh, following his gaze to the town below. “Nah. I’ll deal with the port. Everything else is all yours.”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
But I do. Despite being one of the most powerful men on the West Coast, with the whole of Vegas at his fingertips, Rafe’s always had a strange obsession with Devil’s Dip, in all of its moody glory. He’s big on family, big on home. I’ve always known he’d move back to the coast in a heartbeat. And weirdly enough, there’s a dark excitement bubbling under my rib cage. For once, I’m looking down at Devil’s Dip and don’t have the urge to burn it to the fucking ground.
Maybe Rafe’s enthusiasm is rubbing off on me, or maybe it’s because the town now has something—someone—that I need. It feels like a new beginning, the start of a new era.
But I can’t start it with secrets.
I glance back at the road, and when I see Gabe’s Harley still hasn’t pulled up, I walk the three steps to our parent’s grave. Rafe joins me.
“I need to tell you something.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Nah, I do—”
“No.” Rafe’s voice is as sharp and cold as an icicle, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are trained on the grave. “I already know. I know Mama was killed, and I know you killed Dad.”
A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. “How?”
“‘Cause the night you killed him, you called Sinners Anonymous.”
I frown, gazing up at the church, trying to rack my brain for details of that night. Of course, I remember my father’s lifeless body so clearly, remember the tangy iron smell and the dark satisfaction that sparked in my veins. What I don’t remember is what happened after I sat at his desk and sank a bottle of Smugglers Club.
“You didn’t say anything.”
Silence stretches between us. He thumbs his mouth, his diamond cuff link glinting. “You called the hotline because you wanted us to know, not because you wanted us to react to it. I knew you’d tell us in your own time.”
“You’re not pissed at me.”
His gaze darkens, and I’m suddenly reminded of what a good asset Rafe is to have on your side. “After hearing what he did to Mama, I’m glad you killed the cunt. And the kid?”
An icy hand grips my heart. I give a quick shake of my head. “Working on it.”
He nods.
We stand in contented silence for a few moments, until Gabe’s motorcycle rumbles into view. Rafe’s hand slaps my back. A dark chuckle melts from his lips.
“The Angels of Devil’s Dip, back together again. Fuck man, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”
