I keep fucking staring at him, but he doesn’t elaborate, so I throw up my hands and add, “And? What the fuck did this chick do? Why did the hit happen before it was agreed upon? More details, man.”

  “Rumor is, she ripped off a few high mafia heads.” Ford takes a seat and starts to explain. “And I don’t mean kill ‘em. She robbed them blind right from under their noses. It took a while to figure out it was Bonnie. She was on her fifth victim when they caught up to her scheming ways. There were more she ripped off but because some were, I would say happily married, but that’s not always the case in the mob life, but yeah...you get the idea with married men, having a slice on the side who robbed them isn’t something you spill during a family picnic. Not to mention losing face with your own damn men.”

  “How many in total?” I question.

  “About twelve, but the last one was on to her and let it play out to make sure she was the one doing it and to collect proof the syndicate needed,” Yegor chimes in.

  Ford nods. “She would run into a guy and make it seem it was coincidental. She would flirt her way into his house and during a bathroom break she would go looking for the victim’s computer and tap her way into digital access. And if it wasn’t enough she would even empty a safe or snatch up the wife’s jewelry. Go explain that one, huh?”

  I rub a hand over my face. “I’m guessing the men who were her victims didn’t wait but put a hit on her to end it clean?”

  “Yep,” Peacock states. “Also, why the syndicate acted fast into making it official after the hit, since her father had no fucking clue what his daughter had been up to.”

  “Jorge Campell,” Afon states. “That’s the name of Bonnie’s father. Some say he did fucking know since he was close to bankruptcy. Others say she did it without his knowledge to help her daddy. But black, white, fucking gray area or reasons...truth is, she was just a plain thief who robbed the wrong people.”

  I take in all the information my friends give me but there’s one thing that snags my attention or I’ve missed something. “Why is the syndicate demanding I leave this shit alone? If they are looking into it, they know something, right?”

  Peacock sighs. “It’s a delicate situation. We all know what will happen if you run into him or his,” he rubs his eyes, “oh, fuck it. I almost spilled it anyway, so here goes. I’ve called in a few favors and asked around. The syndicate is sure they are looking at the right...guys. Meaning it’s either the father behind it—dodged a fucking bullet the last time—or the fucker is innocent again, because his hitman specializes in explosives. Not to mention the hitman was also Bonnie’s lover. See how history might repeat itself again? The syndicate is all over this. They won’t tolerate any interference with vigilante shit they have to cover up by agreeing after the fact. It makes them look weak. Especially when it comes to this mess rearing its ugly head again.”

  “So, I should sit back and let someone else fucking decide who’s the perp, and if they’re going after a fucking hitman who specializes in explosives? And was the lover of the chick my woman’s father killed? Fuck that,” I growl and grab my keys I keep in the drawer of my desk. “I need to ride and clear my head. Make sure my woman stays here, or take her to your place, Peacock. Maybe she’s ready to stand on her own fucking feet and go look for something—someone—else. Fuck,” I seethe and march out of my office.

  I rush down the fucking stairs and jump to the floor when I’m half way. I’m so damn pumped with anger, I need to get the fuck out of here. I hear Peacock call my name but I don’t fucking care.

  Leon tries to block my path. “Move. And keep an eye on my woman. I’ll be back but I need the road and wind, man,” I snap. He nods and steps to the side, allowing me to leave everything behind.

  Chapter 10

  ***Unique***

  “Isn’t he supposed to be here? He orchestrated all of this. He should see the result or hell, maybe help some time during the day with all of this? I wasn’t even supposed to know about it but I was here, helping out,” I grumble and again Leon only shrugs.

  I take a step closer to Marlon’s annoying VP who’s leaning against the wall of my new workplace. “Where is he, Leon?”

  “Out.” He raises an eyebrow as if daring me to challenge him and I’m seriously debating punching him in the eye.

  “You could always come with us. Peacock’s got a tight security too, I bet it’ll be fine. We could have a couple of margaritas and talk all night,” Karma says and though I’m tempted to say “fuck it” and get the hell out of here...I can’t. It doesn’t feel right to leave Marlon.

  Something’s going on, I just know it. And it might have started when we had our discussion earlier today. I know I’m hesitant when it comes to glancing into the future. I’m not like him. The way he takes his shades off and stares into a bright sunset he wants to walk right into with me.

  This is a first for me. I’ve been the sole one to take care of myself for years on end. To avoid disappointment I always pace myself. Like when I mentioned this morning about his offer to turn his mom’s room into a workplace for me, how it’s a chance to get back on my feet. But I don’t want to bother him or take up residence in his house—forcing myself on him like that.

  Hell, if it wasn’t for this threat hanging over my head, we wouldn’t even be together right now. And do I need to mention he hasn’t even touched me since the first day? Talk about frustrating because he stalks right out of the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped low around his inked-up body. Those V lines taunting me aren’t helping either.

  It’s frustrating. I want him. And deep down I want all of it; a future together. Maybe I’m blinded by the sunset he clearly sees we have. Maybe I just need to close my eyes and let him lead. What else do I have? A life alone where I work my ass off for my designs? Dammit, I’m scared shitless and it doesn’t have anything to do with the killer who’s after me, but everything to do with sharing my life with someone. How stupid is that, huh?

  Fear is a good thing. You need it, otherwise you won’t ever survive. Hell, half the time it’s the only thing running through my veins but I still manage to throw my chin in the air and my shoulders back, ready to face anything. Outer appearance is everything, the feelings and emotions on the inside I’ll never show anyone, it’s a weakness I always keep locked up inside.

  Fuck. That’s the whole problem with me and Marlon. Me and my stupid shield I hide behind and not letting him in at all while he’s been trying to break through it for a long time. Shit, what if he’s done trying? Where the hell is he, dammit?

  I haven’t seen him for hours and I’m getting itchy. It’s the first time he hasn’t been around since I walked into his clubhouse asking for help. What did he do to me? Making me care and build up feelings I never even thought were able to rise inside me. Ugh. He’s already under my skin, isn’t he? And deep down... I’ve liked having someone to lean on. No. Not someone; Marlon.

  I can do this. I should do this. Like how he seemingly claimed me before I fully threw my heart into this thing that’s us. Wow. Talk about playing catch-up. First things first. Leon. I get the annoying feeling he knows more.

  For this exact reason, I punch his shoulder. “Talk. Now. I’m the Prez’s Old Lady and I damn well deserve the truth from the fucking VP of this MC. You owe me fucking loyalty too. Now tell me where he is.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “It’s about time I see the queen inside you rise, the one Marlon always talks about. Though I have to repeat myself...he’s out. He left right after the meeting with Peacock and his other friends. Told me he needed the wind and road, meaning he’s taking his bike for a spin to clear his head and won’t answer his phone. He was pretty far off his rocker too. So, my advice would be to sit this one out. He’ll return when he’s done chasing the wind.”

  Done chasing the...I give the idiot for brains a facepalm. “Marlon doesn’t chase the wind, you moron. He chases me.”

  Leon leans into my face. “Well I guess someone is tired of the chase since he went out.”

  I’m about to stick my fingers into his eyeballs until my knuckles hit his eyebrows when Karma pulls me back. “Easy there, Unique. Picking a fight with Leon won’t get you anything and will only soothe the right here and now. Think, where would he go?”

  “I don’t fucking know!” I growl.

  “Hey,” Peacock snaps, “watch your tone.”

  My shoulders sag. And again, it hits me in the chest how Peacock protects his woman the way Marlon always protects me. Even if it’s two friends who are snapping at each other.

  “Sorry,” I manage, while Karma throws an arm around me.

  “Hey, I understand. If it was Peacock who’s gone out for hours, I’d freak out too. But I’m sure Marlon will return soon enough, it’s been a whole day already. Besides...I’m sure he isn’t out doing stupid stuff.”

  “Fuck,” Peacock mutters to himself.

  Karma’s head spins in his direction. “Okay, spill, Rooster. He didn’t just leave because he had his panties twisted because of Unique? Did he say anything else when you talked to him about that stuff you needed to discuss?” Karma snaps at her husband.

  If the tension wasn’t as thick in this moment, I’d laugh at Karma calling Peacock ‘Rooster.’ She only does it when she’s pissed or wants to annoy him. Right now, she’s furious and I’m leaning toward it too since Peacock clearly knows more. Why else would Karma mention stuff they needed to discuss?

  Wait, they have information? Why didn’t they tell me? Confused, I look at Leon who gives me a little shake while his shoulders raise slightly. Great, at least I’m not the only one who’s left in the dark in all of this.

  “He wouldn’t be that stupid,” Peacock states. “I told him he needed to leave it to the syndicate, they are on it, our hands are tied until they give the go ahead.”

  My gaze swings from Karma to Peacock and back. “Anyone care to enlighten me? Apparently you two know something while Leon and I are standing on the sidelines. And really, Karma? You knew something and didn’t say shit to me about it all day?”

  “My decision,” Peacock simply states. “She gave me hell for it, and I’m pretty damn sure I won’t get laid any time soon, but it’s the fucking syndicate we’re talking about. My hands are just as tied as the rest of us. You can’t take that shit lightly. Remember this, because your hands will be tied too with the shit I’m about to tell you.” He pierces me with his gaze until he’s satisfied I understand his words before he continues. “We found out who the daughter was your father took out. Her name was Bonnie Campell. Her father, Jorge Campell, is the head of a large mafia gang. Bonnie stole from a number of mafia bosses, putting a target on her head while doing so. The syndicate was investigating the matter but the bunch of guys she pissed off couldn’t wait and took matters into their own hands. The hit on Bonnie wasn’t approved by the syndicate. Though the syndicate covered it up by agreeing after the hit took place. Jorge still thinks his daughter was innocent, no matter how high the pile of evidence was. He thinks your father killed his daughter, that she never had a chance to defend herself. Or hell, they have doubts about the father. Maybe he knew his daughter was a thief, yet they had no evidence to be sure. But to make matters worse, Jorge’s hitman—an explosive expert—was Bonnie’s lover. When I brought your situation to the attention of the syndicate, they jumped into action. They don’t want history repeating, hence the strict order to let them handle it. They need to find out if Jorge Campell is involved—so they can finally take care of him—or if he’s yet again innocent while his hitman is out to avenge his lost lover.”

  I rub my hands over my face. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me. I landed my ass into a bad movie where the main character is fucked from the very first second. This hitman, mafia stuff was my dad’s life, not mine! I don’t have anything to do with Bonnie’s hit. And how? How the hell after all these years have they decided to go after me? Me! I didn’t pull the gun that killed Bonnie, nor did I put the hit on her, and really? She ripped off a number of mafia bosses? A freaking number of guys...why doesn’t her father believe it even when the syndicate agreed to her death? Sure shows she did a bad thing, no need for loverboy to go nuts either. The syndicate handled it in their own rules they all follow. Ugh, again, your world. Not mine which revolves around cutting through fabric instead of bodies, come the fuck on.”

  “I hate to break it to ya, but it kinda is your life now, and has been for months,” Karma tells me in a gentle voice. “Besides, you rarely choose to be part of something. It becomes you. Even if you slide into it from a different direction. You were basically born into it since your father was a hitman. You might have stepped out of it for a few years but it was always around the corner. And I’m truly sorry I pulled you into my world when I stepped inside your store the first day we met, but seriously...those shoes were to die for. I couldn’t pass your shop window. And I can’t imagine not being here for you now—if you’d be all alone to handle this—you’d be dead, I just know it.” Her voice cracks at the end.

  Dammit, she makes me go all teary inside. “One can’t pick their family,” I mutter while I bump my shoulder against Karma. “But I sure as hell pick my own friends. Mafia or not. And you’re right; it was and is my life.”

  I need to stop with the self-pity—though it’s a comfort zone to sulk in—just as I was hiding from my feelings for Marlon. I was brought up cleaning guns instead of playing with dolls. Yet it was my choice to step out of it, my father’s wish for me to do more than get blood on my hands. Or gunpowder, as he liked to put it, when I forgot to wear gloves while he was teaching me the art of being a hitman.

  This also reminds me how my mind works, how I work; how a hitman works. Alone. Though I’m an Old Lady of the President of an MC filled with hitmen, I might need to step up and embrace what I’m a part of. Even if I have shitty experience with the previous VP of this MC, it doesn’t mean history always needs to repeat itself, right?

  Well, maybe it might need to this time. The syndicate might need to agree after the fact yet again because I’m going to make sure both those idiots are dead by the end of the day for coming after me and killing four people because of it.

  “Okay,” I breathe and give the two people—who need to leave—a sweet smile. “I’m fine now. Leon here is going to keep me company for a little while longer so you two can go home too. Tarzan, Ruby, and Andy already took their hubbies home, so you can grab Peacock here and give him some attention, Karma. He was right to ask you not to tell me. Though it sucks on a friend level, it’s fundamental between lovers—trust—something you need and goes both ways, I totally understand. Go give ‘em some lovin’.” I wiggle my eyebrows and shoot the both of them a grateful smile. “And thanks. The both of you, all of you, for helping me.”

  “Don’t mention it. We’re here for you,” Peacock vows. “All of us, whatever it is you need. You’re a part of this family.”

  I give him a nod while my throat clogs up. And dammit, it’s good to know they have my back whenever I need them, because I have my mind set on moving my ass out the door—out for vengeance—the second they leave.

  Karma gives me another squeeze and tells me she’ll call when she’s home to make sure I’m okay. I’m actually relieved when it’s just me and Leon standing in Marlon’s apartment. Time to put my heart on the line in more ways than one.

  “Two questions.” Leon’s gaze connects with mine. “How good is your aim? And what car do you drive?”

  Chapter 11

  ***Marlon***

  “You trusted the wrong fucking woman, asshole,” I growl. “Ironic since I didn’t fucking trust mine enough to take her word, and ended up losing her. I’m working on getting her back, though. Fucking doubt I’ll ever get her to be in the same mindset as me since she won’t let me in. Women are fucking difficult, that’s for damn sure.” I tilt my head. “Am I boring you? Is my gun pressing against your forehead any indication how I feel about your lack of engaging in this discussion we’re having?”

  I raise the second gun I’m holding in my left hand, silencer and all, and pop a round in the guy’s upper thigh. I’m pretty sure it went through his calf too since he’s on his haunches awaiting his death by my hand.

  “Never fucking mind engaging in my discussion. I changed my mind. I don’t need any damn discussion because you went after my woman. Someone who had nothing to do with shit that happened years ago. You and your boss should have left it alone when it was settled by the syndicate. That’s what they’re fucking there for. Bonnie brought it all on herself.”

  “She was innocent!” the fearless man, who’s about to become a dead man, states.

  “I highly doubt it. I’ve read the file, seen the pile of evidence, they even have her on tape breaking into a damn safe. How the hell do you think she’s innocent?” A chuckle rips from my throat but it’s got nothing to do with amusement.

  Arch Brandstein, hitman for Jorge Campell and former lover of Bonnie, remains silent. It was easy apprehending his address myself after I knew Jorge Campell and his hitman were the ones after Unique.

  I couldn’t care less about the syndicate. Fuck waiting for them to decide. This fucker right here could plant a bomb as easy as making a cup of coffee. I ain’t waiting around for that shit.

  I’ve managed to keep Unique safe for days but the more people know—the syndicate’s involvement—the bigger the risk, so it all ends now. When I’m done here, I’m going after Jorge.

  “She was my life. They took her away from me,” Arch tells me in a thin voice.

  Fuck. It’s actually something I can relate to. Since, hello...I’m standing right the fuck here handing out my own brand of vengeance while my woman is still alive. I can’t even understand how fucked-up I’d be if she wasn’t walking this earth anymore.

 

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