The Good Bad Man, page 7
The vehicle comes to a stop, and I’m roughly jerked out. Luca’s strong musk cologne fills my nose. I kept him away from Laurel for a reason. Glad I can still trust most of my instincts.
“Well done, Luca! I didn’t think you could pull it off,” I hear Daddy Soritz shout.
Luca must be close because I hear him mutter, “Not so loud,” but when Soritz nears, Luca replies loudly, “Only doing my job, sir.”
There’s a slap on the back and then an order. “Take him away and give him a good reward.”
I wonder when Luca will realize that his payment is a bullet in the brain. No one wants a faithless rat in their organization. This act of betrayal isn’t going to win Kimberly’s hand in marriage. Besides, even if Soritz would give Kimberly to Luca, she wouldn’t have him. He’s good enough to fuck on the side, but you don’t marry the help.
Bright sunlight stabs my eyes when Soritz attempts to pull the hood off my head. He’s short, so it gets caught, and I have to jerk the rough black material off the rest of the way. I peer down at him in irritation.
“What’s the point of this?”
Soritz beams. “Come inside and you’ll see.”
I don’t have much choice at this point since my hands are tied and I’ve got four men surrounding me. Inside, there will be more opportunities to break free, so I follow Soritz into the concrete and glass structure he currently calls home.
Halfway up the paved path, I hear a gunshot. That damned fool.
“Couldn’t keep him around, you understand. Once a traitor, always a traitor. And for money? I’m sure you took good care of him.”
So Soritz doesn’t know. I don’t bother to correct him. What’s the point now? I didn’t refuse his offer of Kimberly before because she wasn’t a virgin. It was because I didn’t like Soritz, and I didn’t want her. Tying yourself to one person for the rest of your life requires a certain level of commitment that I didn’t think I could give to anyone before Laurel. I thought it was also a weakness. I was very wrong. If I thought I could be ruthless before, that was nothing compared to the hell I’d unleash if anyone so much as touched her.
Inside the house, someone cuts my ties. I guess Soritz wants to pretend we’re civilized or he thinks there’s enough security in this house to keep me under control. That’d be stupid of him. I take a seat in the chair across from him.
“If you wanted to make a deal, Soritz, you should have called me up. You didn’t need to go to these lengths.”
Soritz harrumphs and tugs on the bottom of his sweater. “You should have bought me a meal at our last dinner and maybe I wouldn’t have gone to these lengths.”
“I’m not marrying Kimberly. Or Sophia or your youngest. Luca should’ve told you that and saved you this trouble.”
“I don’t think you understand your situation here, Santino.” He snaps his fingers, and a gun appears at my temple. What a fool. “This is the marriage contract. Before I was going to give you a gift, but now, you’ll pay me for the privilege. I’ll take the new city block you’re building as compensation.” Another flunky lays a contract and a pen in front of me. “I want you to know that in return, I’ve taken care of the dry cleaner for you. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“You would have killed him regardless.”
“Sure, but now it’s doing double duty. Two birds one stone.” Soritz cackles.
I consider the room. There are five guards inside and four outside. All of them are armed, but only one has the gun to my head, and that gun has a magazine of eleven bullets. Enough for everyone, including Soritz, if I want.
My hand shoots up and knocks the gun out of the guard’s grip. I catch it as it falls. In one motion, I’m out of the chair and have the guard in front of me. Someone shoots and the guard takes one and then another bullet. I take out the two men standing and the one on the other side of the door. The men outside rush toward the entryway. The guard at the front ducks behind a marble pillar and shoots at me. My human shield takes the brunt until I find my own protection behind a similar pillar.
“Soritz,” I shout, “call off your men before it gets messier than it already is.”
“Fuck you, Santino!”
A few chips of marble fly by my face as bullets pummel the pillar. I peak around and take out the shooter. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse something moving down a hall perpendicular to me. I shoot at it and hear a grunt and then a fall. I’m down to four bullets. I duck and roll across to the man I just shot and pilfer his gun. A quick check of the magazine reveals eight bullets. Definitely enough to get me out of here.
“Soritz, don’t let your fucking pride get you killed today.”
There’s no response. Not even a torrent of bullets. The instinct is to peek out, thinking maybe it’s safe, but my gut tells me it’s a trap. I follow my gut and run down the hallway. It spills into the kitchen where white-coated chefs cower in the corner. I wave at them. “Exit?”
One of them points me toward another door. I race over and find myself in a service garage. There are four vehicles including one G Wagon. That tank will see me out. I grab the keys off the wall, climb into the SUV, and press the starter button. It purrs to life. I slam on the gas and punch through the garage door. Bodyguards jump out of the way. In my rearview mirror, I see Soritz shaking his fist at me from his front porch. “Don't worry, Soritz. You’ll be dead by nightfall.”
CHAPTER 18
LAUREL
They’re being weird. I watch Con and Sham walk past again. Are they pacing? I lean over, trying to get a better view of them. I’m not sure what's going on, but something is off.
“Hold still please,” Ms. Michaels tells me as she does something to the back of the dress. “I’ve almost got this. I knew it was going to be the one. Only needs this pulled in a bit. You’re a tiny thing.” I am, but that’s quickly changing.
I think I've put on ten pounds since I got here. The doctor that had helped with my leg had commented as much when he came back to check on it. I’m not sure he’ll be back again. Kane hadn’t been too happy about him making any comment about my body, saying he shouldn’t be looking at me. I tried to reason that the point of him being there was because of my body, but it was pointless. There’s no reasoning with Kane when it comes to me.
I smile, thinking back to that day. Kane is a very confusing man. I’m not really one to talk. When it comes to him, I’m all over the place. I’ll hate and love something at the same time that he’ll do or say.
“How does it feel?” Ms. Michaels comes around to the front to get another look. We’re in the living room. We’d been in the spare room but I wanted to see myself in a full-length mirror. There is a giant one in here on the wall. The one in Kane’s bedroom wasn’t an option. He doesn’t care for people besides us being in there, and I find I don’t either.
“It’s fine,” I mutter, watching Sham dart by again.
“Fine?” She laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone call a twenty-thousand-dollar wedding dress fine.”
“What?” I gasp. “That’s the cost of a car. A few of them.” I run my fingers across the lace on the corset. It’s snug until you get to the waist that has silk tulle that’s light. It flows down in soft waves not overdone.
“I highly doubt your husband-to-be owns a car that is anywhere close to twenty thousand.”
“Right.”
“If you don’t like it, dear, we can try—”
“No, it’s fine. I love it.” I really do. Ms. Michaels had brought over a handful of dresses. My eyes landed on this one, and I knew it was what I wanted. It is delicate but sexy.
“Ms. Michaels.” Sham is back now in the living room. Con and a few others are with him hauling everything out of the spare room that the woman left. “It’s time for you to go.”
“Of course.” She doesn’t miss a beat, grabbing her bag on the table.
“I’ll need help out of the dress.”
“No.” Sham holds his hand out when Ms. Michaels tries to come back over to me. “Ma’am.” He motions for her to go.
“I’m sorry. Thank you.”
“It’s fine, dear.” She gives me a warm smile before departing. I keep my mouth shut until she’s gone. I’m not sure Sham or Con will answer any of my questions, but I know they definitely won’t in front of Ms. Michaels.
“What was that? Did she do something wrong?” I ask as soon as the elevator doors close.
“You’re on lockdown,” he responds.
“That’s old news, Sham. Been on lockdown since I got here, and Ms. Michaels has been allowed here the whole time. She steal something?” I tease and get almost no response, but I can tell he’s off. “Sham?”
“Everything is fine.”
“You’re lying.” I glance over to Con. “Is Kane okay?”
“He’s fine,” Con finally answers.
“But he wasn’t?” I don’t know if I want to scream or cry. The frustration of never knowing shit gets to me, but the worry is worse. My throat grows tight. “I can’t breathe.” I have to get this dress off.
“What do you mean you can’t breathe?” Con steps closer to me.
“Get it off me. I need it off me.” I yank at the dress. That sends Con back more steps than he’d taken toward me in the first place. Sham retreats with him.
“I promise Santino is okay,” Con tries to reassure me.
“We won’t be if you take that dress off,” Sham grumbles. The sound of the elevator doors opening pulls my attention away from them. My heart sinks when an older man in a gray suit steps off with a folder in his hand.
“That was quick,” Con says to him.
“I already had the papers.” He glances over to me. “I take it you're the bride?” I only nod my head, panic still bubbling up inside me.
“Let’s go into the office,” Sham tells the man. “Laurel, you too.”
“The dress,” I mutter, but I go, hoping they might tell me something else.
“I suppose you can sign.” The man tries to hand me a pen. His folder is now open. From what I can see, it has a marriage license in it. He holds the pen out closer to get me to take it, but I don’t.
“Laurel!” Kane shouts my name, and it booms through the house. His steps are loud. The expression on his face is the first thing I notice. I don’t register the splattered blood on him until he’s right in front of me. His hand comes up to touch my face.
“She’s okay, sir.” Con’s tone is the same one would have if a wild animal was drawing closer. His hand freezes a breath away from my jaw.
“Little bird.”
“I’m okay,” I repeat. Though I feel I should be asking him that. His hand drops, and he steps back. In the wake of his rage, I feel cold.
Kane takes the folder and the pen from the man. Placing it down on the desk, he signs it. Then he hands the pen to me. “Sign it,” he orders.
“I suppose I’m dressed for the occasion.” I take the pen and sign my name. My signature is barely done before Kane pulls the paper out from under my pen. He hands it back to the man.
“You’re now husband and wife,” he says. “I’ll take it over to be filed right now.” That’s all it is. A piece of paper. There are no vows or promises.
“You won’t touch me?” He’s so close but so far.
“Not yet,” Kane replies. That does sound like a promise.
“Not yet?” I hear the squeak of the office doors closing.
“Now you’re my wife.” He grabs my jaw, pulling me in to meet him, his mouth coming down on mine. I gasp as his mouth devours mine. The sound of fabric ripping fills the air.
“Kane.” I try to catch my breath when he finally releases my lips. I don’t know if we’ve been kissing for seconds or hours. My back presses up against a wall. Kane tugs at his belt and then his pants, lifting me higher at the same time, keeping me pinned to the wall. The head of his cock sinks into me. A grunt rips through him.
“Say it.” He’s like a beast that's been trapped in a cage being let loose. Whatever happened shook him. It also made him rush back to me. That means something.
“What?” I moan, gripping his shoulder. How did the man get me naked?
“Say you’re my wife.”
“I’m your wife.”
“Again,” he orders as he starts to thrust faster. I don’t understand his need to hear me speak the words.
“I’m your wife.” Whatever control Kane was holding on to splinters away, taking us both into oblivion.
CHAPTER 19
KANE
My wife doesn’t look happy. It’s not that she’s looking sad either over our dinner—steak for me, sole for her—but…bothered as if there’s a rock in her shoe she can’t get out. Any other person, I’d ignore it. What do their life annoyances have to do with me? But Laurel is my life partner. The only end to us is if one of us dies, and even then, I’m going to stick around and haunt her. Definitely not allowing any other man near her. If that makes me a dick, so be it.
“Did something bad happen today?” Laurel asks in a soft voice, jerking me out of my fantasy of ghost Kane terrorizing Laurel’s alive partner.
“I had a discussion with Enrico Soritz about our future.” I wave the fork between her and me.
“And it ended up with blood on your face?” She scrunches her face in obvious disbelief. She’s not buying my edited version.
I hesitate and then try to offer her a fuller explanation. “He’s wanted me to marry one of his daughters for some time. I had no interest in that, and we worked it out. Sometimes disagreements are best solved the old-fashioned way. You know who I am, Laurel,” I end quietly.
She presses her lips together and then forces herself to relax.
“I know.”
We eat in uncomfortable silence which fucking sucks because not an hour ago, I was balls deep inside her. I can never sate my need for her. All I could think about was getting back to her. I’d been more pissed off about Soritz trying to take my little bird from me than trying to kill me. An overwhelming need to make my final claim on her fogged everything else in my mind. I bulldozed my way into making her my wife. Then I consummated our marriage against a wall. I should be ashamed, but my wife enjoys the way I take her. Stake my claim over her body.
She wants me in the bedroom, but outside of it, it seems she’s second-guessing her decision. I can feel her slipping through my grasp. My fingers curl around my fork tightly enough that the metal bites my skin.
“Did you not like the clothes? Or is the apartment not to your liking? You can redecorate if you want. I’m not tied to anything.” I try to be calm. Sure, I can get her to crave my touch. Agree to stay and be mine, but I still want more. I’m a greedy bastard when it comes to her. God knows she owns every damn part of me. She’s in my bones.
“The clothes are beautiful. The apartment is beautiful.”
“But you’re not happy.”
She shoves her fish around for a moment and then pins me with her beautiful eyes. “You know what excuse my father would give me when he locked me in the cage? The world outside is a scary, dangerous place and I can’t be trusted to be out there. Him locking me up, him punishing me was for my own good.”
“I trust you. It’s all the assholes like Soritz I don’t trust.” She already appears to be ready to leave, to run from me. My hunter’s instinct flares to life. I won’t let her go. Can’t. I decide to be brutally honest because at this point, what do I have to lose?
But before I can speak, she beats me to it. “I don’t want to leave here. I like your apartment. I feel safe here. I like the clothes. They’re beautiful, but, Kane, I feel like I’m no different than your apartment or a dress you bought or the shoes on your feet.”
“You’re a helluva lot more important than any of those damned things,” I growl, angered suddenly. How could she not know what she means to me? And then it hits me. I’ve never told her. She’s only ever heard things like “you’re mine” and “stay” and other orders I bark out without even thinking. I’m Kane Santino. I expect people to obey me, and they expect me to be in command but Laurel is not like Luca or Sham or Constantine. She’s not on my payroll. Whatever loyalty she has for me is a gift, not something I bought.
“It’s okay, Kane. You don’t have to say anything. I don’t even know why I’m complaining. I would rather be here than anywhere else.” She picks up her fork and starts to eat again, but I’m not ready to move on. I’m not. This is one I can’t let go. I don’t want her to stay because I’m the best option or because I ordered her to. I want her to need me. The same way I need her.
“I won’t lie to you,” I say. Laurel freezes. “I do want to own you. I want you to wear my brand. I want to lock you up here, but it isn’t because you’re an object that I want to own. It’s because I’m jealous. I’m a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal when it comes to you. I don’t want you to be perceived by anyone but me. It’s bad enough I must share you with Con or Ned or even Sham. I want you to myself.”
The crease in her brow smooths out, and the corner of her lip turns up. I watch in confusion as her hand covers mine. She strokes the tops of my clenched fingers, smoothing the surface of my fist until I relax my grip in the knife. “Kane, are you trying to tell me that you love me?”
Love? Is that what I’m feeling? Is the tightness in my chest when I’m not with her love? Is this fierce need for ownership love? Is it?
“I don’t know much about love either,” she continues quietly. “My mother died when I was young, and my father…well, you saw what he thought love was, but I’ve never felt safe with anyone like I do with you, and when you’re gone, my heart races but not in the exciting way. The fearful way. I worry that you won’t come home to me. I worry that you will tire of me and replace me with someone younger and that I will be alone again.”
