Page 33 of Ruthless Beasts

She skimmed over the sharpie labels, examining them. “I wasn’t allowed to have ice cream often, but our chef would sneak me some when my father was out of town. I always loved cookie dough, unless it’s Christmas season, then candy cane with fudge sauce.”

“And your mom?” I wondered because we knew nothing about her unless it came to her father.

“Died during childbirth. I was an only child. Such a disappointment to my father to have a girl and not a male to follow in his footsteps.”

“I’d never want a kid to follow in my footsteps.” I shoved in a bite of ice cream and fought the moan that was surfacing. “I’d just want them to be happy.”

She froze, looking at the ice cream carton, looking thoughtful before admitting, “It’s all I’ve really wanted.”

I knew she was talking about for the baby. The one we saw wiggling around happily inside of her. Did she think we’d alter that course? Did she suspect we’d use that child for ill will when all we wanted to do was give it the love and security we never had?

We.

I needed to get my head on straight because I was already acting like this child was ours. All of ours. They say it takes a village to raise a child and that may be true, but if I didn’t get my thoughts in order and fast, I might become too attached to an idea that I had no business entertaining.

When the room got quiet, everyone lost in their ice cream, leaning against counters, eating their frozen treat without bothering to sit, Adam whispered to himself, “I’d just wanted them to be happy, too.”

I doubt he realized he said it. Still, when I looked up, I saw her watching him, taking in every inch of the scars that covered the side of his body, and I felt it. I felt the sadness that came with her gaze. The sorrow and wistfulness of longing and wanting something we can’t have. Was it him she wanted? Or the reality of the love he once shared? I didn’t blame her for yearning for something she hadn’t had, because deep down I was there with her, wishing for once I had a single quality that was redeemable enough to love.

CHAPTER TWELVE

MERCER

My fingers gripped the bicep of the puny messenger as I dragged him through the casino. I knew he wasn’t directly responsible for my anger, yet somehow, he found himself on the receiving end of it, anyway. Under my iron grip, he whimpered and begged me to let go, his eyes already watering as he gasped and wheezed from the smoke in the area.

He wasn’t one of Accardo’s men; I knew that. He was too weak, too spineless to be part of this life. But he had to have accepted money from the man in exchange for the package delivered. The exchange of goods for cash made him equally guilty.

I practically dragged him down the stairs toward the basement, using my keycards and secure passwords to pop open the forbidden door that no one but us were allowed through. It was for the best. We couldn’t have everyday staff walking in while we were drenched in blood with bodies at our feet. We did a lot of questionable things down here in this basement,and that’s all we would need is Glenda from housekeeping traumatized because she was nosey.

“You can let me go,” he begged. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone?” I laughed at how pitiful he sounded. “What exactly would you have to tattle on me right now? I’ve not done a single thing to you.” I paused. “Yet.”

“Oh god. Please. I was just delivering the package, that’s all.”

“Who gave it to you?” I demanded as I pushed him into a room. It was soundproof, with cement floors and a drain right in the center for easy cleanup.

“It was dropped off at our office, with a note and payment.” He rushed to speak the words. His explanation came so fast that he stumbled over it.

“Did you open this?” I held up the thick envelope. The one with Accardo’s emblem on the corner. I didn’t know what it contained, but I didn’t fucking care. Nothing good could come out of this. Nothing good ever came from anything Accardo was involved in.

Another push before the door slammed behind us, and he was jolting forward, tripping over his feet as he fell hard onto the cement. That would bruise for sure. Not like I expected him to live long enough to feel much of the pain. I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him toward the chains we had bolted to the cement floor in the center of the room, conveniently right by the floor drains.

Without releasing him, I reached for the shackle and snapped it onto his wrist. When I was confident he was secure, I released his neck and grabbed the other, yanking his arm hard before snapping it in place. He may be scrawny, but I wasn’t taking my chances. Sometimes fight or flight has men drawing power I’d never imagine they possessed.

I stepped back. “You know who sent this to us, don’t you?”

He shook his head wildly. “I swear I don’t.”

I leaned in, cringing at the smell of his putrid sweat. “This man, right here…killed my best friend’s wife. My other best friend’s sister. My friend. She was my friend too. And that was shit, don’t get me wrong. But now? Now he wants our girl. Can you imagine what type of threat you delivered?”

Our.

The word just seemed so fucking right, even if I wouldn’t admit it to Adam or Ace yet.

She was one of us. Ours.

Ours to protect.

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