Pursuit: Brandon & Carly (Mafia Ties Book 4) (4 page)

For an apartment in a New York City, prewar building, mine was quite large. The kitchen and main room were one big space, and the back wall had two picture windows, facing a private courtyard. I’d chosen the apartment for the back and the kitchen. I loved to cook, it was something I’d done with my mother since I was a child. Nic used to give me shit about it until he tasted my food. Shut his ass up real quick.

I pulled out everything I needed to make chicken parmigiana, grateful that I’d had the foresight to send a text to one of the guys to make sure the kitchen was fully stocked for our return. My eyes swept the room, the cogs in my mind spinning as I thought about how it would look to Carly. I owned the whole building, but since I lived alone, I hadn’t felt the need to expand my apartment. Now that I was moving Carly in with me, and knowing I’d be marrying her and knocking her up shortly, I started thinking about combining the two first floor apartments when the neighbors lease was up.

Carly wandered in after around fifteen minutes. “Smells great,” she said, making her way to the window near the kitchen area and staring out warily.

“Carly, c’mere,” I encouraged. She turned around and walked over, straight into the arm I’d held open for her. I pulled her close and kissed her temple. “You’re safe, kitten,” I reassured her. “I’m here, and I’ve got guys watching the building.” I felt her shoulders droop slightly as she relaxed. Kissing her temple again, I held a spoon of the sauce I was stirring to her mouth. She put her mouth around it and just like that, I was hard as fuck again.

“Damn, Brandon. It’s so good,” she moaned.
Special,
I reminded myself as I guided her to a chair at the kitchen table, saying a prayer to the Virgin Mary. Seemed appropriate considering the circumstances.

“Tell me about how you know Nic and why you decided to help him.” Nic had told me some, but I wanted to hear the full story from Carly.

“What do you want to know?” she asked guardedly.

I frowned at her. “All of it. Start from the beginning.”

She sighed and put an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand, watching me as I moved around preparing the food.

“You know about my childhood, mostly. I was home schooled, for lack of a better term,” she spit acidly. “So, I didn’t have a lot of friends, only the kids of my father’s”—she made air quotes—“‘trusted’ men. However, he still made sure I went to Sunday school, needing to keep up appearances and all. We couldn’t have Father Gannon damning him to Hell,” she sneered, rolling her eyes. “As though he doesn’t already have a personally engraved throne at the devil’s side.”

I put the breaded chicken and French bread in the oven and sat at the table with her. Picking up the clenched fist in her lap, I pulled her fingers apart and began to massage her hand.

She sighed, her eyes closing in bliss. “Wow, who knew a simple hand massage could cause such comfort?” she said with surprise.

I smiled. “My mother used to do it for me and my brothers when we were sick.”

Carly’s eyes softened and the sides of her lips turned up. “That’s really sweet.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” I quipped, earning myself an eye roll and a chuckle.

“Anyway, I met a girl who had an Italian father and an Irish mother. Meagan’s mother was considered a traitor and disowned by her family, but she still brought her daughter to Father Gannon’s Sunday school classes. As we got older, we got creative in keeping in touch and stayed friends.” Carly cast her eyes down and dropped her other hand to the table, drawing circles with her finger. I gave her hand a deliberate squeeze to remind her I was with her and urge her to continue.

Meagan was Enzo’s cousin, but her father worked with Nic’s uncle Antonio in one of our legit businesses, and I didn’t know either of them well.

“One day, I don’t even remember what I did, I pissed off my da and he beat the shit out of me.” She flinched, and I realized I’d gripped her hand hard and immediately gentled my touch. “He locked me in the basement of our house, but Tommy had taught me to pick a lock, so my da had no idea I often slipped out of the cellar door. I couldn’t go anywhere, but stepping into the open and the fresh air kept me from going insane.”

She suddenly withdrew her hand from mine and stood, pacing to the window, but I could tell she wasn’t seeing anything beyond the glass.

“I don’t—I don’t like dark, small spaces,” she admitted with a shudder. “I was sitting at the top of the stairs when I heard yelling through an open window a few floors up. My da was arguing with another man. They were fighting over the price of a new shipment.” She turned and faced me, her eyes full of rage. “A shipment of girls.”

Nic had told me the O’Reillys were moving into the slave trade, but I hadn’t realized the information had come from Carly. A pang of regret hit me for the way I’d, kind of, accused her of betraying us. It was in the past though, and we were moving forward.

“I wanted to tell Tommy, but I knew him too well. He would have tried to save the day and gotten himself killed. But, I needed to tell someone. So, the next time I met Meagan at the market, I confessed it all to her. She begged me to let her tell Nic. She swore he would help, that I could trust him.”

She shook her head ruefully. “It took her some time to convince me. No matter how awful my family is, I was raised to believe the DeLucas were the enemy. That they were as evil as mine.” She looked up at me, her eyes pleading for understanding. A lump formed in my throat as it hit me how much guilt she was carrying. I stood and went to her, pulling her into my arms, and kissing her head.

“There were no good choices, Carly. No one can blame you for the path you chose.”

She sighed and buried her head in my shirt, sniffling. Knowing Carly, I was sure she was mortified to be shedding tears in front of me, so I ignored them, despite my desire to wipe them away and comfort her.

“Eventually, my guilt overrode my fear and I agreed to have Meagan set up a meeting with Nic. I told my father I was going to confession and met Nic at the church. As soon as she introduced us, I asked her to leave. I’m not sure she would have if not for Nic. I don’t know what he said to her, but she agreed to leave. He was smart enough to know I didn’t want her involved or for any of this to trace back to her. She still has no idea. I agreed to help Nic take my family down, and he agreed to protect me. My father thinks he rules with an iron fist and he believed I would never betray him. It helped that he thinks women are no better than chattel. So he didn’t bother to hide things from me.” She shrugged and looked up at me with watery eyes. “After our—um—incident, I went to Tommy and told him I needed to disappear.”

I refused to be grateful to that bastard for keeping my girl safe. If I ever met him, I was pretty sure I’d kick his ass. Instead, I focused on how fucking proud I was of Carly. So much so, I had no words. With nothing to say, I lifted her chin and softly kissed her.

S
weet kisses, the best home-cooked meal I’d ever eaten, and a night spent cuddling—Bran certainly was the king of the unexpected. He was so different from what I’d assumed based on what I’d heard about him and how he’d behaved when he was watching over me for Nic.

The steely enforcer with a killer reputation had a soft side he didn’t seem afraid to show me. Then again, he wasn’t scared to reveal his hard edges either. Surprisingly enough, the combination seemed to be my kryptonite. When he grabbed my face the way he had, I should have been pissed way the hell off. Instead, it had sent a spark of desire straight to my core. If he hadn’t walked away, I’m not sure if I would have been able to resist ripping his clothes off and jumping him. I wasn’t convinced it was for the best that I hadn’t, since the chemistry between us was sizzling hot and impossible to ignore. Even the knowledge that I was walking into a meeting with Nic DeLuca to talk about the situation with my da wasn’t dimming it in the least bit.

I couldn’t help but think that it would have taken the edge off a little if we’d gone with the heat of the moment and seen what happened next. Then again, I wasn’t sure walking into this meeting sore from losing my virginity to the DeLuca enforcer would have been the smart thing to do.

Fun as hell? Sure.

Wise? Not in the least.

Coming back to town when my da was out to kill me wasn’t exactly the smartest thing I’d ever done either. Brandon had a way of convincing me to do stuff I never would have agreed to without his influence. Case in point, meeting with Nic DeLuca at one of his warehouses when I’d been in town for less than half a day, and it was sure to be one of the places my da had on his radar for possible clues as to my whereabouts. I should have known Brandon had it covered, though.

“Climb in the back and lay flat on the floor between the seats,” he instructed when we were about a mile out from the building.

“Seriously?” I grumbled as I unclicked my seatbelt.

“Don’t give me any lip. When it comes to your safety, my word is law.”

I didn’t respond until I was settled on the floor of the car, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. This isn’t a democracy. But, what about all the
other
times you think your word is law?”

“I didn’t say your safety was the only situation where it applies.” His voice was a low rumble that sent shivers up my spine. “It just happened to be why I mentioned it at this particular point in time, when you need to follow my orders without question.”

“Caveman.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, kitten. Because I’m most definitely going to be the boss when I fuck you too.”

“We’ll just see about that,” I muttered.

“If you keep up with all the sass, you
will
see, and sooner than I’d planned,” he threatened, taking a sharp turn that jolted me slightly.

“Holy shit.”

“And be warned, I’m not sure you’ll be able to walk straight once I’m done with you.” His response was gruff and almost drowned out by the sound of a garage door going up, but I still didn’t miss the sensual promise in his tone.

I couldn’t deny I was in over my head when his threat sounded like a good time. But hey, walking was overrated, right? Except for when he helped me out of the car and led me down a hallway to Nic’s office. Not being able to walk in this particular instance would have been embarrassing as hell.

“Carly,” Nic greeted me, standing when we walked into his office.

I stepped forward to shake his hand and was surprised when he lifted it to his mouth to place a kiss on the top of my hand. Only when I noticed the humor in his eyes at Brandon’s reaction—a low growl and yanking me back into his body—did I understand what he was up to. But considering the bombshell I’d unknowingly dropped on his now-wife when I hadn’t realized she was unaware of Nic being a mafia boss, I couldn’t really blame him for messing with us. Especially, since the first thing he had to handle after he returned home from his honeymoon was a meeting with me to discuss what to do about my da.

“I’m glad to see things worked out so well with your queen,” I said, lifting my chin towards the huge framed photo of him and his new wife on their wedding day hanging on the center of the wall to the left.

“No thanks to your father,” he answered grimly.

“Yet another reason why he needs to die. And fast, before he causes any more trouble.”

“I can’t really argue with your logic, but the death of your father will cause a major void in the O’Reilly family and that wouldn’t be good for my city.”

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do considering who Nic DeLuca was, but I snorted at the obviousness of his statement. “I hope that doesn’t mean you aren’t willing to do it because he”—I aimed my thumb towards Brandon—“promised to protect me and break me free of my da. The only way to do that is to put him six feet under.”

“Blood thirsty little thing, aren’t you?” Nic chuckled, glancing over at Brandon. “Are you sure you want to keep her?”

My back straightened in outrage, more at the implication that Brandon shouldn’t want to keep me than the idea that he could just decide he was going to. Brandon slid his hand up my back and wrapped it around my neck, practically shackling me in place. It was a macho move, but I found comfort in his show of possession and relaxed into his hold.

“Quit messing around,” Brandon growled. “You knew she was mine before I was willing to admit it.”

“That I did,” Nic murmured with a smug grin before turning his attention my way again. “When you first came to me, I offered to eliminate your father and you refused to believe it was the best way to proceed. What’s changed since then?”

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to fight against the tears that welled in my eyes. I’d learned long ago that my da didn’t really love me, but it didn’t stop the pain of knowing how very little I meant to him. “Killing my da would only halt things in his organization temporarily. I wanted to blow it the fuck up. But, now he knows about my betrayal. Chances are, I’ll end up in his next shipment of girls.”

Brandon’s fingers dug into the skin of my neck, hard enough I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up with bruises. “No fucking way,” he hissed, turning my head until I was staring into his eyes. “I knew he was after you, but I can’t believe he would sell his own daughter into slave trade.”

“He likes to play his cards close to the vest as much as he can,” I explained. “I wouldn’t even know about it, except Tommy overheard my da on the phone with one of his guys when I disappeared. Apparently, he was royally pissed that his ditzy little girl was able to outsmart him. Da told the guy I’d be worth the trade and ‘kept in line’ with a firm hand, or find myself saying Hail Marys on my way to hell.”

“Motherfucker,” Nic growled.

I laughed without any humor. “Oh, and let’s not forget how valuable I am, being a virgin and all.” In any other situation, I might have felt uncomfortable discussing my sexual experience, or lack thereof, with Nic Deluca, but I didn’t have the luxury of being squeamish.

“There’s no fucking way that’s gonna happen.” Brandon’s voice was deceptively soft. “No one will lay a fucking hand on you."