I slid into the Maserati and hit the button, the engine roaring to life. As I whipped through the streets of Beacon Bay, I couldn’t decide where to go. I needed some air to clear my head. And after the fight with my dad, I could use a drink. So that made my decision easier.
I drove down Main Street, headed toward my old hangout. The River Styx was on the corner, hidden in an alley between two buildings.
I parked at the dead-end and moved past a group of drunken guys with beer bottles in their hands. One asshole had the nerve to touch my arm with his clammy hand. Gross. I hauled ass down the alley, doing my best to avoid the random drunk people in my way.
A black sign hung on chains above the door to the bar, with The River Styx written in red. I pulled on the skull door handle and breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped inside.
I was in the mood to be reckless.
My father brought my wild child side to life when he ordered me to do something. I hated the lack of control over my life, and I hated him even more. I had three weeks until Sean would arrive to “collect” me. Until then, I was drinking myself into a stupor. That seemed like a good way to go.
I searched for a seat at the bar and came up empty-handed. People crammed into the booths and tables spread throughout the ample space. Smoke filled the air, a plume blowing in my face. It was probably the only bar in the state that still allowed smoking. The River Styx was owned and operated by criminals who didn’t follow the rules, a group called The Serpents. I’d probably seen the members hundreds of times without knowing they were right in front of me.
I surveyed the space one more time, surprised to find an old friend. Well, we were never friends, only fuck buddies. Marcello Salvatore nursed a glass of his scotch, his eyes on the television on the wall above the bar. Dressed in dark jeans and a fitted shirt that stretched with his muscles, he watched a Yankees game, sipping his drink.
I tapped him on the shoulder. His chair swiveled, his eyes landing on me with a severe expression plastered on his face. Even after five years, he was still gorgeous, more tempting than I remembered. When he realized it was just me, his expression softened, though not by much.
He shook his head, a frown in place.
So much for our happy reunion.
Chapter Twelve
Rhiannon
Marcello glared at me, not the least bit happy to see me. “What are you doing here, Rhi?”
“How about you buy me a drink, and I’ll tell you about it?”
Marcello slid off his barstool and offered it to me. I got comfortable on the seat, setting my purse on the bar, and he leaned over me to flag down the bartender. He ordered a Bourbon Manhattan on the rocks for me, a scotch neat for him. I was surprised he still remembered my favorite drink.
My dad got me hooked on them in high school. At first, I hated bourbon. One sip and my nostril hair felt as if it was on fire. I swore it was straight gasoline in a glass bottle. But after I fixed him enough drinks, all of which he required me to taste to ensure it was the proper alcohol ratio, I’d learned to like them.
I clinked Marcello’s glass with my own, then took a long sip, letting the bourbon and sweet vermouth slide down my throat. I needed the burn as a reminder I was still alive. And now, I was in the presence of the only man who ever made me feel like my soul was on fire.
“Time to talk, Rhi.” Marcello cupped my shoulders, his breath warming my cheek. “Why are you back in Beacon Bay?”
He couldn’t call it Beggars Bay in front of the locals. These old drunks would have killed him for disrespecting our hometown. Founders were such snobs. They looked down upon us, and yet Marcello chose The River Styx, of all places, to hide.
“I should ask why you’re at a bar in a shady part of town on a Tuesday night.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s none of your concern.”
“Then I guess my life is none of yours.” I buried my face in the glass and took a swig, trying to avoid his steely gaze.
“Let’s go.” He clutched my shoulder. “We’re leaving.”
“I just got here,” I protested. “And I haven’t finished my drink.”
“It’s loud,” he said against the shell of my ear, his breath on my skin doing sinful things between my thighs. “Too crowded to talk. Let’s take this someplace else.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Are you trying to get me alone so you can have your way with me?”