Sweet Vengeance (7 page)

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Authors: Cindy Stark

BOOK: Sweet Vengeance
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"Is
that it, Sal?  You want out?"  Jase's organization was the only one in
town where someone could walk away and live to tell about it.

Big
Sal met his gaze and held it for several long seconds.  Then he sighed. 
"No.  I'm with ya, boss."

"Good." 
Jase didn't show his relief.  The last thing he wanted was a civil war between
him and his men with Allie vulnerable in the kitchen, but he sure as hell
wasn't going to show any emotion that could be considered weak.  "Anyone
else?"

A
stony look settled on Mario's face, but he didn't comment.  Thank God none of
the other men did, either.

"Good,
now get the hell out of here, all of ya, before I really get pissed."

His
men grumbled as they got to their feet and headed toward the kitchen and out
through the tunnel.  Jase followed to make sure they didn't mess with Allie. 
When Leo passed by, Jase slugged him in the arm and then handed his gun to
him.  "If you ain't going to use it, keep it in your pants."

Leo
grunted a laugh, but from the look on his face, Jase knew he'd follow orders. 

In
the kitchen, Allie didn't meet any of their gazes as the men filed through, but
she didn't shy away from them, either.  Good.  She'd need some of that spunk to
get her through the next little while.

All
of the men left except for Max.  Instead of going out the kitchen door, he
closed it and headed for the fridge where he grabbed a beer.

Jase
waited.  Max was his right-hand man and could get away with more shit than the
other guys.  Max twisted the cap off the bottle, tossed it in the garbage and
focused on Jase.

"You
might want to reconsider, Jase."  Max flicked a quick glance at Allie. 
Jase watched as her eyes widened.  "We could use her.  Nobody has to get
hurt."

"You've
heard my decision."  Jase matched Max's icy blue stare.

Max
took a big swallow of beer and relaxed his stance.  "Why don't we let her
decide?" 

He
didn't glance at Allie, but Jase did.  Her green eyes were wide with fear, her
body tight with tension as though she were ready to make another run for
freedom.

"No." 
Jase walked to the kitchen door and opened it.  He faced Max with a rigid
glare.  "That's my final answer.  Don't ask again."

Max
downed more beer before placing the half-empty bottle on the counter.  He
watched Allie with a measured look as he walked past her.  She met his stare,
holding it until Max reached the door, then he swung his gaze to Jase. 
"Fine." 

He
walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Damn
it.

"I'm
sorry."  Allie got to her feet and started walking toward Jase.  "I
didn't—"

He
held up a hand, stopping her.  "Why don't you go turn on the TV?  I'll
finish putting these away."  He turned toward the counter.  He needed some
space, some time to cool down.  He'd never had his men question him that way. 
Why now?  Why with Allie?

She
didn't answer, but he heard her move.  He waited a moment, and then turned,
watching her walk away.  The sway of her hips snagged his attention as did the
length silky dark hair reaching down her back. 

She'd
proven to be one hell of a distraction.  For him as well as his men.

*        *        *

Allie's
blood still raced through her veins at an alarming rate even though the
immediate danger had passed.  She knew she'd been sent away, but she didn't
mind the time to collect herself, either.  She walked into the living room and
sat stiffly on the soft beige couch where Jase's terrorizing men had been only
moments before.  She grabbed an ivory-colored pillow and hugged it to her
chest, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

Now
that she was alone, the throbbing in her arm became more noticeable though she
didn't really feel anything from the cuts on her hands.  She tucked her legs
beneath her, gathering herself into a ball. 

She
felt like she'd just slipped through an executioner's fingers.  Jase was the
only one who seemed to value her life.  Joey had put her in the line of fire. 
Aunt Rita would be glad she had one less mouth to feed.  Even the cops would
only want her for what information she could provide them with.  And the mob? 
They wanted her dead.

Really,
at this moment in time, she had no one.  No one but a dark-haired stranger who
was tough enough to command a room full of dangerous men, and yet gentle enough
to hug her when she was scared or hurt.

She
swallowed as her body's fight or flight reflexes went into remission.  She'd be
okay for now.  She was safe here with Jase.

Needing
something normal to do, she took the remote off the table, turned on the TV and
began flipping through channels.  She couldn't get past the nagging little
thoughts she had about Joey.  Like, why didn't he warn her he was in danger? 
Worse yet, why did he drag her into it?  How could he have truly loved her and
done that?

She
flipped the channel again, stopping when she caught sight of her favorite
show.  It showcased the dangerous job of crab fishing in the Alaskan seas.  The
sea captains were rough, tough men, and yet somehow sexy as hell.  In a way,
they reminded her of Jase.

"You
like this show?"

Allie
jumped, not expecting Jase to have come up behind her.  She nodded, not taking
her eyes off the TV.  She was grateful he'd protected her, but things had
turned awkward when he'd asked her to leave the kitchen.  His men had forced
him to choose between her and them, and although she'd won, she knew it must
have cost him something.

How
did she repay something like that?

"I
brought you some Tylenol."

"Thanks,"
she said, finally meeting his gaze.  The anger she'd seen in them earlier was
gone.  She gave him a hesitant smile.  "For the Tylenol and for protecting
me."

He
shrugged.  "They need to learn they don't make the decisions." 

Allie
found herself focusing on the muscles in his arms as he handed the pills and a
glass of water to her.  They were lithe and strong as they bunched and relaxed
in turn.  She took the pills and swallowed them, drowning out the thoughts of
how close they'd come to kissing.  What had she been thinking?  Flirting with a
guy like him was flirting with disaster.  And what about Joey, the man she'd
thought she'd love forever…the man she'd thought would also love her forever? 
Maybe she'd been wrong.  Maybe she knew nothing at all about real love.

She
shifted on the couch so she didn't have to crane her neck to see him. 
"Why do you do this?  Why do you want to be part of such an
organization?"  She couldn't wrap her mind around someone inviting
violence into his life.

"These
men help me achieve my goals."  He studied her.  "It's not what you
think."

"Then
what is it?"  Because on the surface, his activities didn't seem any
different than the other organizations she'd knew about.

"It's
hard to explain." 

"Are
you doing illegal things?"

"We're
not dealing drugs or guns like the Trasattis, if that's what you're
asking."

She
sighed.  He'd evaded her question again.  "But it's still illegal."

He
shifted his gaze to the TV as though he was stalling and then looked back to
her.  "It's complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Okay. 
It skirts on the illegal, but there are no innocent people getting hurt." 
A tired look dropped over his face.  "At least not if I can help it."

"How
did you manage to hook up with your gang of thugs?"

Jase
shrugged as he perched on the arm of the sofa next to her.  "I met them
here and there over the last few years.  Max introduced a few to me.  We all
have a common thread that brought us together."

"The
Trasatti Family?"  Allie tilted her head up farther to see him better. 
She'd figure this out yet.

Jase's
expression hardened.  "They have screwed all of us over in one way or
another.  We want to see them hang—figuratively, if not literally."

That
was some intense stuff.  "How did you get to be the boss?"

He
smiled then.  "I've got the money to back us."  He stood up and held
out a hand.  "Enough of this talk.  We need to change our bandages.  It'll
be easier if I do yours and you do mine."

"
We
have to do it?"  She had no idea how to care for a gunshot wound. 
"Shouldn't Doc Green take care of that?"

Jase
shook his head.  "Nah.  He's busy with his practice.  I only call him in
emergencies.  We can manage this."

Allie
swallowed.  "I don't think I can."

"Why?" 

He
couldn't possibly be serious.  "I'm not trained."  Her heart started
beating faster.  "I mean I wouldn't know where to start.  It's not like
putting a band-aid on a paper cut."

He
chuckled and helped her from the couch.  "I'll tell you everything you
need to do."

Allie
followed him up the stairs, trying to keep her pulse calm.  Stuff like this
made her nervous.  She had no idea what to do.  What if she did it wrong? 

He
left her in the bedroom while he retrieved the supplies.  It didn't take him
nearly long enough.  He laid out a white towel on the bed and busied himself
getting the items in order.  "I promise, this is no big deal."

The
sharp smell of alcohol assaulted her as he rubbed sanitizing gel on his hands. 
He tossed the bottle to her.  "Clean your hands good with this."

He
cut off long strips of gauze, folded them and laid them on the towel.  Next, he
opened several gauze pads and placed them beside the strips.  Allie watched as
he set out a roll of white tape and a tube of ointment before facing her.  He
kept his eyes trained on her as he gripped the bottom of his black T-shirt and
pulled it over his head.

She
tried to keep her focus on his face, but she couldn't resist checking out his
well-sculpted chest.  Slowly, she looked lower, over his pecs and down each of
his defined abs.  He must do a million sit-ups to have such amazing abs.  She
ended at the top of his jeans and rested her gaze there a moment, her thoughts
taking an interesting direction.  She blinked her gaze back to Jase.  He raised
a brow, and her cheeks warmed.  She'd totally been caught checking him out.

"I'm
not taking off my shirt," she said, trying to hide her embarrassment.

"Didn't
ask you to."  His eyes darkened, taking on a dangerous quality that
tempted her. 

Tension
strung between them like a taut wire, increased tenfold from their interaction
in the kitchen.  Allie stood and took a step away from the bed, afraid of how
she'd react to him if he had asked her to remove her shirt.  She was pregnant
with Joey's baby, she reminded herself.  And Jase was a dangerous man.

She
cleared her throat and looked at the supplies.  "What do I need to
do?"

"Maybe
we'd better do yours first, and you can watch me."  He indicated the
bottom of the bed with a jerk of his head.  "Come sit here." 

She
did as she was asked, trying to ignore how close she was to his bare skin.  He
knelt before her, taking her left hand in his.  On the backside of her hand, he
used a small pair of scissors to snip away the layers of gauze and then turned
over her hand to examine it. 

Her
hand looked small and fragile next to his.  He spread her fingers with a
roughened thumb, looking for damage.  There were a couple of gashes, one with a
stitch, but overall she didn't think it looked too bad.  He covered the two
larger cuts with ointment and rewrapped it before taking her other hand. 

She
exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.  He glanced at her and
then back at his work.  He was so close.  Close enough she could reach out and
run a hand over his spiky hair.  What would it be like if she could touch him
like she'd been tempted to?  What if they weren't in hiding?  What if she'd met
him instead of Joey, and he wasn't connected to organized crime? 

She
inhaled.  What would it be like to kiss him?

He
tilted his face toward her, and she exhaled a slow breath.  She hoped her
expression didn't betray her thoughts.  There was no way he could know what
she'd been thinking.  No way.

He
gave her a smile that said otherwise.  "Let's work on that arm now."

Allie
glanced down at her hands, finding nothing but a band-aid on the second one. 
She'd been so distracted by him she hadn't realized he'd finished.  "This
one doesn't need to be wrapped?"

"It
looks good.  We'll have to leave the one stitch in for a little while,
though."  He nodded.  "You had a rough time last night."  He
stood and with a gentle touch, he slipped her shirt sleeve up to her shoulder,
the act seeming far more intimate than it was.  "This might hurt a
bit," he said as he lifted the scissors. 

His
hands felt strong, capable as he held her arm and began cutting the gauze
wrap.  Allie watched as his deft fingers removed the wrap, leaving only a gauze
pad.  She held her breath as he lifted it away, not really feeling any pain. 
When the air hit her injury, she sucked in a sharp breath.  It burned like no
other.

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