Hard Up: A Military Mafia Romance (6 page)

“Oh
good
, that way I’m not tied to you. You know, it’s almost like I’m free to roam—”

“Fuck off with all that.”

He turned away, arms crossing. He was losing interest in the conversation, quickly.

“Alright,” she said to his back. “You get me the stuff from the drugstore, then. Scissors made for cutting hair, and a box of hair dye. A dark color, and the most expensive you can find.”

He was on her in a second, turning and moving toward her in a flash, his breathing heavy. Viola took a step back, then another, until she was pinned between Callum and the kitchen island.

He moved forward until they were almost touching, until the space between them was next to nothing, a heart’s breath. Daring her to make the connection, to bridge the gap — if she would.

Her eyes flared bright, her breath caught.

“For what?” he ground out. “For this?”

He caught a long, shining lock of her cornsilk hair, rubbed it between his fingers.

“Yes,” she snapped, pulling her hair from his touch.

“What if I like it this way?” he asked quietly, staring at her.

Two shimmering pools of sapphire met his gaze, her eyes searching his. He saw it a moment before she spoke, the teasing that came out of her mouth.

“Doesn’t really matter what you like, does it? You’re just a sex toy, nothing more. Nobody asks for your opinion.”

He made a low sound, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

“You weren’t saying that the last time I had you. In fact, I think the only thing you were saying was, ‘oh GOD’.”

She stared up at him for a long second, and he wondered if she would break the spell by kissing him.

Instead, to his definite disappointment, she spoke.

“I know your game, Callum. I grew up with guys like you, cocky assholes who flitted from one flower to the next.”

“You’ve never seen a guy like me.”

“I’ve seen a thousand if I’ve seen one. That’s why I took what I could, when I could, then moved the fuck on.”

Her words were too provocative. He broke his own rule, crushed his body against hers. Made sure she felt every inch of his flesh pressed to hers, the raging hard-on he had for her.

“The reason I know that you have never seen anyone like me,” he said, running a hand down her side. “Is because I have fucked you. I’ve seen your face when you cum, seen how much you needed it. No woman should need it that bad, yet they always do.”

He watched her intently, saw her lips tremble. Read the indecision in her eyes, the hunger mixed with fear…

And caught himself.

Just as she moved, whether to kiss him or shove him away, he stepped back.

And then he turned, leaving her in the kitchen. Booking it to his room, like he was on fire and the extinguisher was in his bed.

He stripped and lied down, physically exhausted but also emotionally drained.

She was a huge liability, that much was obvious. He knew she was a risk, yet he was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

What the hell was his problem? He knew better than to touch her, and yet…

He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, determined not to spend the night tossing and turning.

She was a problem best left to waking hours.

“
F
uck
.”

The word came out of Callum’s mouth fast, almost as if it were a bullet.

Dec looked into the fading sunset, squinting into the light as it came in across the dash. They sat in the car outside one of the safe houses, after they’d finished moving the last one.

“Yeah.”

“He’s already here?” Callum asked.

“Yeah. He just called me, asked me to arrange a meeting.”

“As if I’m a hostile.”

Declan rubbed his reddish-brown beard and didn’t say anything. That actually made Callum more angry, but he couldn’t say anything. He should’ve expected trouble from the Cúram.

“Where are we meeting him?” he asked, instead unleashing his anger on Declan.

“Actually…” Declan glanced in the mirror. “He’s here.”

Callum saw a sleek black town car pull up beside theirs, unquestionably the Cúram. For all their Irishness, they reflected the mob in a lot of ways, one of them being choice of vehicle.

The Cúram always looked comfortable, arriving in style.

Muttering a curse under his breath, Callum got out of the SUV. He eyed the town car, taking a moment to straighten his dress shirt.

He walked over, unsurprised when Brian Connor got out of the driver side.

“Brian.” He nodded to the driver, Fallon’s usual guy. Dark hair, dark eyes, wearing a leather jacket, the guy was practically deaf and mute.

Or so Fallon liked to pretend. Yet here again, Brian was standing outside the car. Apparently there were things he wasn’t allowed to hear, and this was one of them.

Brian nodded back, like this was a normal piece of business. Hell, for Brian it probably was normal.

Callum opened the town car and slid in. It was dark, completely done up in leather.

And there sat Fallon. His dark blond hair going white, his emerald eyes sharp as a hawk. He gave Callum a good idea what he’d look like when he got older, assuming he made it to that age.

Fallon was Callum’s uncle, and a no-nonsense guy. Familial relations took a back seat to business, that was for sure.

Callum could hear his uncle’s thick Boston accent before he even opened his mouth.

“Nephew. I hear you got yourself a girl,” Fallon said, getting right to the point.

Callum eyed him, then nodded.

“A witness,” he said, keeping his voice calm.

“Uh-huh. Well, two of our boys have been hit today, up in Boston, so we are looking at a big-time hit. Retaliation, you know?”

Shit.

“They shouldn’t have sent someone to kill us in the first place,” growled Callum. “They brought this upon themselves. Can’t you talk some sense into them, negotiate on our behalf?” Callum hated to ask, but maybe his uncle was feeling generous today.

Fallon gave a humorless chuckle.

“Doubtful. You killed Antony Valetti.”

That made Callum stop and stare at his uncle, taken aback. Why was he acting like this whole situation had a foregone conclusion already?

“I know, but — “

Fallon held up a hand, silenced Callum.

“Yeah. And a hit on you changes things, says they know who and where you are. Big problem, since you don’t take orders from your father about who you run around with. You practically gave the order yourself when you came down here.”

Callum kept his face carefully blank. There was an ocean of distance between him and his father. Hell, he’d joined the Navy at seventeen, just to escape the shadow of his old man.

And that was back when he and his mother had lived in Stoneham, a quiet life in the suburbs of Boston. Barely seeing his father, except for holidays.

Before his father had even truly come into power in the Cúram.

“So they know where I am,” Callum said, changing the subject.

“Yes. So what are we going to do about it?” Fallon asked, looking him dead in the eye.

Callum was silent for a minute, unsure how to respond. When Callum didn’t answer, Fallon spoke again.

“Callum, I want you to think very carefully about what you say next. Because you are family, and we don’t lie to one another.” Fallon took a breath. “Were you the one that killed Valetti? Because it wasn’t done with your gun, it was done with an old revolver.”

Callum sucked in his breath. He hadn’t expected the Cúram to dig up the autopsy. He could lie, but… It seemed unwise, given that Fallon had come all this way to ask about it person.

“It was the girl,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’d be dead without her.”

Fallon looked speculative, folded his hands together.

“You’re sleeping with her.” Fallon’s accusal was brief, so unsurprised that Callum almost didn’t naysay it.

“No,” he said at last.

His uncle made a face, whether at the pathetic lie or the idea that a girl wouldn’t sleep with Callum, he didn’t know.

“What’s her name?”

“Viola.”

“Somebody’s gotta pay, and it ain’t gonna be more of our guys. She’s the only one who’s not family, you get me?”

“We’re beyond that,” Callum pointed out. “They already killed two of our guys in the street.”

Fallon stared at him for a long second, then nodded. “I know.”

A thought sprung to Callum’s mind, something half-formed.

“What if there’s another option? Vi saw a second guy turn tail and run. What about him?”

Fallon brought his hand to his chin thoughtfully.

“Another guy?” he said. He peered out his window, mulling it over. “That could work. If we can find him, that is.”

“Let me try. I can get a description from her, put a bound and gagged order on him. We can scoop him up. If he thinks that the boss he saw murdered is dead, he needs to clean up the one loose end before he’s good to go back to New York.”

The thought of Viola as a loose end was something Callum didn’t like to delve into too deeply.

“Which is your girl,” Fallon nodded. After a moment, he said, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, as in, you’ve got my approval
temporarily
. I’ll give you a few days to look into it.”

“Thank you.”

Fallon gave him a hard look, then shrugged. “It’s good for business.”

Fallon glanced away, and Callum realized he was dismissed. Opening the door, he slid from the car. He straightened himself, nodding to Brian, and headed to his SUV.

Declan was nowhere to be found. He didn’t care for authority figures, so that was no surprise.

Pulling the car out, head full of swirling thoughts, he headed home.

C
allum came
home to the sound of the treadmill going. Peeking in the gym, he found Viola running at full pace, as if trying to escape.

He cocked a brow, noticing her choice of wardrobe — tiny black shorts and a pink tank top.

Damn
. If she was trying to catch his attention, there wasn’t a much better way. He loved women that worked out.

He indulged himself for a moment, looking at the sweat trickling down her back, pooling at the base of her spine. He was hard and hungry, suddenly…

She turned her head and caught sight of him in the glass. Panicked, she turned, hitting the emergency stop button on the treadmill and ripping out her headphones at the same time.

“You,” Viola said, leaning down and putting her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

And all he could notice was the fact that he could see down her shirt when she did that.

Not a good idea
, he warned himself. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I’m back,” he said.

“I see that.” She stood up, grabbed the water bottle from the treadmill, then took a long drink of it. Head back, throat working, fingers gripping the bottle…

He had to turn away.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay…” she said, following him as he walked into the living area. “What is it?”

“Do you want to shower first?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“Am I leaving the apartment?”

“No.”

“Well then, out with it.”

Callum stared her down for long seconds, then sunk onto the couch. Disturbingly, she did the same, right beside him. Looking away, he spoke.

“I need the description of the guy you saw, the one that ran off when you spotted him.”

“In the parking lot?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“So you’re looking for someone to pin it on.”

He looked up at her, startled. “What?”

“If you’re here asking me about what this guy looked like, you’re looking for someone to blame. Right?”

Callum cleared his throat. “Yes. How did you know that?”

“You know, my mom might’ve been a model, but I’m no dummy.”  The second she said it, her cheeks colored. She brushed it aside. “Season five of The Sopranos.”

Callum had been God knows where crawling around and carrying a rifle when The Sopranos had aired, so he’d have to take her word for it.

It doesn’t sound right, though…

“So you’ve figured out my motive. Good for you.”

“I can help, you know.”

“Yeah, by giving me his description.”

“I can do more than that. You’re looking for the guy, right?”

Callum stilled. “How do you know he’s not on a plane to New York right now?”

Her cheeks went pink again. She shook her head.

“I don’t. I’m guessing.”

He could sense a vague untruth in her words, but couldn’t suss out the meaning.

“Mmm,” he said. “Right.”

“I can help. I can be your Girl Friday.” She shifted her tone to be faux-serious, low like a drill sergeant. “Be on the lookout for the suspect, etc.”

“Not a chance,” he said, standing up.

She stared at him for a moment. “Then I guess you’re going to have to hope that your shitty Irish mafia connections work, huh?”

She was right, of course. The Irish had no real connections here. The underworld of Savannah was all but untouched, as far as they were concerned.

He glared down at her. She took the other road, grinning widely.

She knew she was right, he could see it on her face.

Rather than admit it, Callum made a frustrated noise. He turned and strode from the room, but he didn’t miss her small sound of celebration. No doubt paired with a victory dance…

If only she realized the kind of danger she was walking into…

V
i banged
her hand on the flimsy linoleum table.

“No way!” she said. “There is no
way
that you were on the swim team.”

“All four years of high school,” he said. “How do you think I got into the Navy? I had to be able to swim a shit ton of laps.”

Callum looked around the diner, prompting Vi to look as well. She saw that the waitress was still occupied with the solo gentleman sitting at the counter, a dozen feet away.

That was the thing about going to all-night diners at two a.m. — the service was shit, but no one noticed you coming or going. Plus, it was interesting to see their fifty-something waitress flirt with her handsome customer, who couldn’t have been older than late twenties at most.

More power to her
, Vi thought.

“Ready to go?” he asked, pushing away his half-eaten steak and eggs.

“Sure.”

She watched him pull out his wallet and throw down cash. They got up and left, Callum following her. When they got outside, Callum took his time unlocking the car and helping her in.

“What’s with you?” she asked him when he adjusted his side mirrors. “You’re usually rush, rush, rush.”

“Nothing,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot.

His tone had gone all tight though, worrying her.

“Did you get a message from work? Is that what you’re all upset about?”

“Just leave it be, okay?” he said, glancing in his rearview mirror again.

Vi laid her head back on the car seat, looking out her window. She saw a car behind them, but didn’t think anything of it until they made several turns. Then she saw the same headlights, following them from afar.

She sat up, her eyes trained on the rearview mirror.

“Callum…”

“I see them,” he said. “They’ve been with us since the diner.”

“Really?” she said, trying to turn and see the vehicle better.

A firm hand came down on her shoulder, pushing her down in her seat.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Just try to behave like a normal person.”

Vi couldn’t hold still, leaning forward to catch their reflection.

“They’re tailing us from so far away.”

“They’ve had some practice, it seems.”

“Is that what—”

She was cut off when he took a right turn suddenly, then the immediate left turn. There was little to no traffic, enabling him to cut across some lanes, and quickly take another left.

Viola was left clinging to the armrest, unsure what was happening.

“What the fuck??” she said when they straightened out and drove as if nothing had ever happened.

Looking in the rearview, he was calm.

“Evasive driving maneuvers.”

“Well, maybe let your
passenger
know next time!” she said.

She looked behind them, and saw nothing.

“They’re gone,” she said.

“Only because I let them know I was aware of them following me. I’m normally a champion at shaking a tail, but this one… It’s hard to get rid of them without traffic.”

“It makes me wonder who they are, and how long they’ve been tailing us.”

He made a face. “I can guess on the first count. On the second, I think this is the first time. I actively practice ways to ditch a tail. I’m a hard man to follow.”

“I see that, now.”

He gave her a hard look and took a careful right turn. He glanced in the mirror, then cursed.

“Shit. They found us,” he said.

He stepped on the gas, picked up speed, but the other car wasn’t about to let them go again.

“Viola, I need you to reach under your seat,” he said, calmly as possible.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He was speeding now, outwardly calling attention to himself. What if they were pulled over?

Then again, they weren’t doing anything wrong.

She reached under her seat. To her surprise, she found two guns and some ammo.

“Jesus,” she breathed as he took them from her and piled them in his lap.

The guns were heavy in her hands; she’d never held anything but a revolver.

A glance in the mirror showed that the car was gaining on them. She could make out the type, a dull red SUV.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, uncertain.

“We’re going to get on the interstate, and drive the loop that goes around the city until they’re gone.”

“What if that doesn’t work?” she said, starting to panic.

“It will. Now see if you can fold your seat down and slide into the backseat.”

He pulled onto the on-ramp that led to the highway, face grim. She did what he asked, took off her seatbelt and managed to get into the backseat.

“Don’t bother trying to fold it up again,” he said as he gunned the engine. “Just get behind me, and get your seatbelt on.”

She shut her mouth and focused on doing as he said. She looked out the window at the highway flying by, noticing that the headlights were right behind them now.

The rear window shattered suddenly, making Vi scream.

“Get down!” he said, though Vi was already ducking.

He drove as fast as the car could go, but they edged closer. The other car pulled out wide of them, then came back to almost slam into them. Luckily there was enough room on their car’s left side to maneuver away, but just enough.

Viola looked to the other side in a panic. They had less than three feet left to go on that side, and the red SUV was pulling out wide again.

When the car started its collision course with them, Vi screamed and shut her eyes… only to be be yanked totally short when Callum stomped on the brakes at the last second.

There was a grinding of steel as they slowed, then sped back up toward the exit ramp. It was another jaw-dropping moment when they raced to the exit ramp, just making it off by the skin of their teeth.

When they got off, they hit the drag going fast, although not so fast as on the highway. Vi held the oh-shit handle by her head for a few more blocks.

“You okay?” Callum asked.

“Fine. Just… amped.”

He looked at her for a second in his rearview, then pulled out his phone and called someone.

“Marks, I need a pickup. Yeah, this car is dirty… Meet me at the parking lot of the Denny’s near downtown. Yeah. Alright.”

They rode silently for a minute until they reached the Denny’s parking lot, where they pulled in.

“Come on. Outta the car,” he said.

Sliding out of the car, Vi realized that she should feel something. Anything. Panic, at least.

At the moment though, she didn’t feel anything but a soft buzz, probably fading adrenaline from their brush with death.

She turned to Callum, to say something to him. She was shocked when he bear-hugged her instead, not speaking. They stood like that, him grappling her, for almost a full minute.

Then he released her, just as two men pulled up in a gray sedan.

Callum exchanged a few words with them, then they traded cars.

“Later,” he told them, unlocking the sedan doors for Vi.

They pulled out, refreshingly slow.

“That’s all?” she asked. “That’s all you do after being tailed?”

He looked over to her, slowly nodded.

“That’s all we will do, tonight. My guys will be out looking for the red SUV. Maybe the guy driving it is stupid, maybe he won’t dump it.”

“You don’t sound very convinced.”

He shrugged. “Let’s get you somewhere where they can’t see you, hmm?”

It was silent the rest of the way home. Viola thinking…

What was the bear hug? What did that mean?

The city passed by her window, quiet as ever, not bearing witness to their escapades.