Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (35 page)

Daniel stood first, crumpling his tablecloth and throwing it on his empty plate. He took a couple steps away from the table, passing me on his way out, and paused.

“I trust that's the old attitude talking, the one you developed wearing orange. I get it. Going behind bars makes a man angry and a little crazy.”

I growled, giving my brother the evilest eye I'd produced in my whole fucking life. “Shut up. Do what I say. Leave her to me.”

“We will, brother. We will. I just wanted her to know how lucky she is being here.”

Before I could grab him by the neck and throw him against the wall, he was on his way out. Lev was smart enough to keep his distance, heading for the door with the table between us.

He looked at Sabrina. “Remember what we discussed, love. You do everything Anton says. Everything we ask. That's the price for keeping you alive and breathing. Any other Ligiotti would've gotten their head popped and dumped in the nearest ditch on our way home after breaking out Anton.”

She shook once. No fear, but rage. The door shut and he was gone.

Fucking assholes. It was in their nature. I didn't expect anything different – especially because they sure as shit didn't have the same weird connection with this chick I did. But fuck, sworn enemy or not, when did my brothers forget how to treat a woman with basic civility?

When did I?

Obviously when we looked at her. Their blood roared with hate, venom, vengeance. Mine stormed pure lust, a barbaric need to fuck her, more than I wanted her uncle dead.

I walked to the other side of the table and sat down with her, still pondering that shit. I tapped the table several times with my fingers 'til she took her face outta her hands.

“Look at me, Sabrina. We've got shit to discuss. Before we do that, I wanna give you a chance to eat to your satisfaction.”

“I'm not hungry,” she snapped.

“I don't give a fuck. You're gonna keep up your strength because we both have jobs to do. Pick something up off that table and take it bite-by-bite. I don't wanna have to force anything down your throat.”

Bullshit. There was one thing I wanted to force through her lips more than anything else. Cold, stoic war crept back in my heart, but it hadn't turned me to total ice. I wasn't so far gone I'd throw the food off this table if she disobeyed, throw her down flat, and fuck her right there.

No. Not yet.

“Do it for me, babe. Do it for yourself. Let's go. I want you talking to me with a full stomach. You'll be way more pissed and irrational if your belly's running on empty.”

She stared at me for a good long while with the same hateful eyes she'd aimed at my brothers. Finally, she moved her hand to the plate, took the muffin, and chewed an angry bite outta it. I would've laughed if she wasn't seeing red and I didn't have a deadly serious mission here.

“I overslept,” I said, watching as she swallowed and took another bite. Good. “If I'd been down here on time, I wouldn't have let them get away with that disrespect. They give you any trouble in the future, Sabrina, you let me know. Promise me.”

My fists tightened, and I leaned forward on the table. She set her half eaten breakfast down and took a gulp of tea before answering. “Why bother? Stop acting like you're here to do me any favors. I know a good cop, bad cop thing when I see one. It's how you tricked me to come back for that followup.”

Fuck. The girl was smarter than I'd given her credit for, at least in hindsight.

“Fine. You wanna play rough instead of treating this like a civilized business arrangement, I can do that.”

She snorted. “Civilized? I don't think violating at least ten Federal laws and keeping me hostage fits the definition. Neither does blowing up my uncle's nightclub downtown and killing twenty well respected men.”

It was my turn to laugh, letting the derision roll out. Incredible. She still had no clue – no fucking idea – what I'd really done.

“Come on, babe. You wanna be a part of the media, I get it. Just thought you'd know by now half the stuff you read about's pure bullshit.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What? Are you going to tell me the bombing didn't happen and it wasn't you? I never figured you for the tinfoil hat type.”

“No. I didn't tell you a single lie during our other talks, except for the fact that my Uncle Volodya's place wasn't really called the Red Eagle, and he never died on a Wednesday. That was code for Lev and Daniel to break me out.” I paused, reached over to the coffee pot, and poured myself a tall mug. “I blew that fucking place to kingdom come, and the only regret I've got about it is not having your asshole uncle there to die with the rest of those freaks.”

She shook her head. “Great. So you admit you're a killer.”

“Admit it?” I blinked. “I've never denied that shit once. I
own
the fuckers I kill. What you don't get is that every asshole I'd knifed or burned or shot has always had it coming. You really don't know shit about the underside of your family's business, do you? If you did, you'd know the guests Gioulio has at his parties are some of the most sadistic, twisted motherfuckers in the entire city.”

She looked at me like I'd just spat out a tall fucking tale. Okay, maybe I had, but this one was all true.

“What are you talking about? Don't tell me this is some kinda
Eyes Wide Shut
crap. You killed them in cold blood. All because my uncle was your target.”

“No. I wanted to make sure I killed all those fucks. I just missed a couple when Gioulio and his guards didn't show up on schedule. You're missing the point – none of them were collateral damage. All twenty of those assholes deserved to be executed. You don't know them. I do.”

Another shake of the head. Another flick of that dark, smooth hair. Fuck, how good would it feel to just grab it while I shoved my cock between her legs? I'd hold on and rock her, pluck it like reigns, just short of ripping it out while we fucked.

“If you want me to even consider a word you're saying, you'd better tell me what's going on.”

I folded my arms. “Not 'til you eat some more breakfast. Go on. I'll fucking wait.”

She glared. At first, I didn't think it was gonna work. But then her small hands reached for more muffins in the center of the table and another orange. I watched and waited as she ate, sipping my coffee, trying not to admire the cleavage peeking through her top too close.

Grigor and his maids did a good job picking out her wardrobe. Shit, she was dressed a lot like the Latvian girls I'd fucked a couple years ago, two dark haired, blue eyed chicks straight from the old world. They barely understood a word of English and even less Russian, but their cunts understood my dick pounding them to blubbering pieces. One of them tore stripes in my back when she clawed me, and a few warm streams of blood poured down my ass.

It was the roughest, craziest fuck of my life. And I had a damned certain feeling it wasn't half as intense as what I'd feel unloading my balls inside the Italian girl playing bitch across from me.

Sabrina's fork clanged on the ceramic plate when she was done. She blotted her mouth dry and then looked at me.

“There. Is there anything else you'd like before you can trust me with an adult conversation, instead of treating me like some little girl you've got locked up in your tower?”

The poison on her tongue made me grin. “Babe, you're gonna stay locked up for a good long while. Even when I tell you the crazy fucking truth, it's gonna take you time to chew on it. Digest it. But you'll turn on that fucker. You'll help me kill your uncle. I know you will.”

She waited. I swore I heard her foot tapping on the tile underneath the table.

Impatient. I liked that.

All right. Enough fucking around. It was time to let her know what really happened that night.

“It was an assassination, plain and simple. My brothers and I had enough intel to know how Gioulio ran these parties. Shit, he'd been doing them since your old man died and there was nobody left in the windy city to stand in his way. Drugs and guns are the bulk of this business. Always have been, always will be.

“But that shit's hard money. Your uncle wanted to diversify into something easier. Nothing like trafficking with some rich, well oiled assholes to bring in a few easy million more.”

I watched her jump and squirm in her seat. Heard her swallow before she spoke.

“Trafficking? Like...women?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Seems like no matter where you go, powerful fucks like to play devil when they're done pretending to be angels all day in front of the public. It's not all about the money either. By giving the high and mighty an outlet for their depraved desires, your uncle gave himself something sweet to hold over their fucked up heads if this city ever gets a mayor who wants to go tough on crime. Probably part of the reason Ligiotti business has been smooth as ice since your old man died.

“Gioulio's got himself a stable of girls he keeps for his boys. Slaves who have to do anything and everything short of holding out their throats to get cut.

“Not that there's a helluva lot of difference sometimes. You should've seen what that banker, Wilkins, did to this Sicilian girl your uncle imported...left her bleeding and infected for weeks with the chunks he tore outta her with his teeth. Then there was that fuck on the city council. Bastard liked to put out his stogies on fresh young skin. My boys told me the last chick he had needed plastic surgery after the fucker was done with her. Gioulio charged his ass a hefty damage fee and an extra premium for the night I blew him straight to hell.

“Then there was that real estate mogul, Chuck Winston Mayhar. You know you're dealing with a bastard when a man flaunts three fucking names. Too many business trips to Japan for that boy, where he got into some really sick stuff he saw in his comic books. He couldn't even get your uncle to say yes to half the twisted shit he wanted, but damn if he didn't keep trying. The boy picked this pretty little blonde from a shelter in Rome, had her shipped back here by Gioulio, and –“

She'd been reaching for the tea, and the half-empty cup crashed on the table. Sabrina was red in the face, bunched up like her seat turned into needles. She almost leaped halfway to the ceiling when the china smashed.

“Enough,” she said weakly. “You made your point. Please, I don't want to hear anything else.”

Fuck. I kinda felt bad for her. But only a little bit.

I'd done my fucking job. I'd planted the seed of doubt by shining the bitter truth right in her eyes. And shit, that wasn't even half of it. I'd read the files my brothers collected before we put the bombing together.

Every one of those sick motherfuckers was the kinda stomach turning shit no sane prostitute would ever do. All the money in the world wouldn't buy them what they needed to get off from any regular escort service. That's why they went to Gioulio, the magic man who could fulfill their depraved desires, all because the girls he pimped didn't have a choice.

I'd stopped trying to figure out why some dudes needed to torture and kill to get their nut. All I needed was right across the table, staring at me with huge, tormented eyes, and a pussy that would rocket me to heaven when I finally got it wrapped around my dick.

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand with both of mine. I held her, refusing to let go, lacing my fingers through hers and stroking up her arm.

“Don't worry about the mess. Housekeeping will take care of it. Look, I'm not saying this shit to hurt you, Sabrina. I'm trying to make you understand there's more to every story than what you read. I've done terrible things to terrible people. I don't regret a goddamned thing.”

She took a long, ragged breath. Her lips opened, like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't get it out. A fast moving tear swept down her red right cheek.

“I need you to help me because you're different, babe. Your asshole uncle knew that. It's why he kept you sheltered. If you were remotely like him and his crew, you wouldn't be crying over this shit. You'd be feeding me excuses.”

“I don't...I don't know what to believe,” she forced out.

I tightened my grip on her. “You will. Very soon. It's been a long morning for both of us, and yesterday was even longer. Come on. Lemme walk you back upstairs so you can get some rest.”

I wasn't gonna drop the rest on her when she was like this. That was for later. I had to chisel away every evil piece of Ligiotti bullshit left in her, everything Gioulio had hidden and twisted inside her.

She walked limply in my arms as we headed up the stairs, back to the big bedroom. I got her into the chamber and laid her on the bed, pulling off her shoes.

Two black heels with straps. Didn't know the girls in charge allowed her such luxuries. Didn't know she'd choose that kinda shit to wear around here either.

Maybe she was hoping to use them as a weapon – whack me in the head or take out an eye when I wasn't looking. Whatever the case, she wasn't gonna do a damned thing now.

I let her smash her face into the pillow while I stroked her back. Soon, her breathing grew slower, more normal, and I lightened my caresses.

It wasn't easy to walk away while she slept, but I fucking had to.

This job was far from over. And if I'd stayed there another minute, I knew my dick would rip right through my pants and plunge into what she had underneath that sleek purple skirt, pulling me into her like a fucking magnet.

I'd hurt her enough for one day. I did what I had to. The only screaming I wanted her to do was the kind she made when her mind was exploding with a good, deep fuck.

God willing, we'd get there soon.

I headed for the gym. I needed some time to think, something to distract me from the lust boiling my blood. I walked into the spacious exercise room, stripped off my shirt, and went to work on the punching bag.

Everything Sabrina stirred up came ripping out in my punches. The ceiling rattled with my blows, angry and hot, filled with all the obligations and vows I had left to fulfill.

Too many promises were piled on my back. Heavy, heavy promises, one-ton obligations, ready to snap my fucking spine like a brittle twig if I took a single step outta line.