She came to me. Walked fast. She wore beautiful heels that made her legs seem ten stories tall. The dress was flattering, the skirt tight against her hips and bust, without being too showy. Probably approved by her dad. I didn’t care. She looked incredible. Her lips were red and her hair was that perfect auburn like the sky on fire. She came to me, walking fast, swaying with eagerness, and I met her halfway.
Didn’t bother saying hello.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight against my chest. Felt her warmth. Her body. Her breasts and hips. Fucking Cap.
“Mal,” she whispered. “God, I’m so happy to see you.”
She pulled back, but I didn’t let her go. I took her hands and held them. Like I couldn’t release her, not when I’d finally found her again. I reached up and touched her cheek, and noticed the slight discoloring—makeup hiding a bruise. I’d seen it before on her a hundred times. It was so familiar it ached, like a punch to my stomach. Anger, rage, hate—it swelled like an ocean.
“He did it again,” I whispered.
She chewed on her lip. Uncertain. “It’s okay. I’m handling it.”
“We have to get you out. This is too far, Cap.”
She pushed my hand away from her face, but didn’t pull back. “Not yet. I’m not going anywhere yet. Not until we’ve finished what we started.”
My jaw clenched tight and my teeth ground together. I wanted to run with her right now. We could get away—I had a little cash and I knew how to disappear. We’d go to Colorado and get a place in the mountains, or skip over the border into Mexico and vanish into Peru. A thousand possibilities and lines stretched out from us like roots from a tree.
But she was right. Carmine was still dead, and we still had to get revenge on his killers. It hurts so badly I wanted to scream, but I nodded once.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “Why the clandestine meeting?”
“Clandestine.” She grinned. “I didn’t know you had a big vocabulary.”
“I read Tom Clancy novels.”
“You read?”
“I like the violence.” I squeezed her fingers. “Come on, Cap. What’s going on?”
She chewed on her lip. Wet it with her tongue. I couldn’t help the rush of heat in my chest. The stirring I felt in my stomach. My cock going half-hard. She looked amazing, like sex with a purse. Like those heels were made to lift that ass high in the air and keep it there forever. I wanted to strip off the dress and leave on the shoes and fuck her, take her, savage her, make her shiver and moan and beg my name. I needed to taste her, savor her in all the ways I’d always wanted.
Instead, I held back. I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t cross the line.
“I’ve got news.”
“Give it to me straight.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. Let it out real slow.
“My dad wants me to marry some Russian mobster named Maxim. He’s from Dallas.”
I stared at her. The words barely made sense. “Russian? From Dallas?”
“Maxim. He’s inside. I haven’t met him yet, but that’s why we’re here.”
“Marry?”
“My dad wants it, not me. I don’t plan on marrying anyone. But I have to play along, okay?”
“You have to play along.” The words came out flat. Dead. My head was having trouble making sense of this. I let her hands fall from mine. Her face twisted, like I’d hurt her. I hated myself for that. The self-loathing was back, and I didn’t know if I could survive it.
“We need to stay close to my dad, right? He needs to think he broke me.”
“Broke you?” I stepped closer. The anger was back. “What did he do?”
“It’s okay.” She put a hand on my chest. I felt a thrill again.
She was going to marry some Russian from Dallas.
“It’s not okay.”
“He locked me in a room. Didn’t really hit me. Not him, anyway. But I’m fine now. The night I called? They let me out that day. I snuck into his office to talk to you.”
I stared at her and heard the blood rushing past my ears. “He locked you in a room.”
“In the basement. Mal, you’re turning red.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“I know, but—”
“Right now. Right here.” I pulled from her and turned to the door. “That motherfucker. He locked you in the basement.”
“Mal, stop.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled. “I’m okay. Please, you’re going to fuck this up and I don’t have much time. He’ll notice I’m gone.”
Rage filled me. I was an inferno. Anger burned so hot I thought I might die. If I went, I’d take this whole hotel with me.
Mauro Balestra would die. Cap’s father would burn. I’d take him down for hurting her. I’d always known he was an abusive prick. I figured Carmine would do something about him sooner or later, when she finally got around to asking him for help. But Carmine was gone, and Cap was mine.