Page 9 of Mob Knight

“Is it close, or should I walk you there?”

My eyes widen, and I shake my head no. Understanding registers on his face. He knows I don’t want to be seen with him, and it makes me feel horrible because it’s not that I’m embarrassed or that I’m judging him for who he is—what he is. It’s purely about my safety.

“All right. You go, and I’ll follow behind. I’m not letting you walk alone to your car after what just happened.”

I point three cars down the road. “I’m right there.”

When I head toward it, he walks two steps behind me. I want to turn around and tell him I’m fine since it’s so nearby, but people have already witnessed us talking on the street for a long time. It’s inevitable it’ll get back to Pablo, and that means all of that time spent hiding was worthless. I unlock my car with a fob and open the door as Cormac reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. I see the screen flash. I get no chance to say anything before he answers the call. He glances at me as he walks by.

“Have a good day, Joey.”

“Wait! Why do you call me that?”

Chapter Four

Cormac

Why do I call her that?

It popped into my mind, and it won’t pop back out. I think Jocelyn is a pretty name, but there’s something about Joey that works for me. She’s clearly not easily intimidated if she works in this neighborhood, and she was willing to literally stick her neck out for me to protect me. I can tell she has a sense of humor that leans toward dry, which I appreciate. She’s got an athletic build her professional attire hides, but I felt as we rolled down the stairs. I’d rather go for a roll in the hay with her than down steps again. I get the sense she was a tomboy growing up, so I guess that’s why Joey comes to mind.

I didn’t mean to say it aloud.

But I know I said it more than once, which is never a good sign in my family. Giving a woman a nickname is essentially a marriage proposal. I am not looking to get married. I’m not looking to date. I’m not even looking to fuck these days. I just got out of a three year “relationship.”

I had a sub for three years, but I ended things recently. It was a splendid arrangement I didn’t foresee ending. But herbest friend was my brother’s former sub. We met the women the same weekend at a BDSM club Seamus and I are silent part owners of. He hit it off with Makayla, and I hit it off with Deirdre. But things got ugly a month ago when Makayla tried to get in touch with Seamus after he ended things to date his now-wife. She texted twice, and he didn’t read them. He blocked her instead. She didn’t take that well.

She didn’t go allFatal AttractionorSingle White Femaleon him, but she tried to out our family business. When you’re with someone for three years, and your family’s name’s been splashed in the news over the last five years—thanks to shitty dead relatives—it’s difficult to hide who and what we are, even if we never admitted it.

Makayla went so far as to have Deirdre suggest to me that Makayla have a threesome with Tiernan and Seamus. They thought I’d pass the idea along to Seamus. He about lost his ever-loving shite. I didn’t tell him as an endorsement. I told him as a warning because Makayla also threatened to tell people she’d been a mobster’s submissive for three years and repeat organized crime things she supposedly learned while with him.

It’s why Tiernan dealt with it. Seamus was too pissed off. My sister-in-law made sure Makayla understood there isn’t a fucking chance in any universe they’d be interested in her having any contact with Seamus.

I told Deirdre not to get either of us involved, but she claimed she was trying to help her friend who’s in love with Seamus. I stared at her as though she were an idiot. I really thought she was. How would suggesting a woman who’s in love with my brother join a threesome with him and his wife be a good idea?

Deirdre overstepped just by suggesting it, but the way she spoke didn’t fit our D/s dynamics. I warned her, but she persisted. Even after two punishments, she wouldn’t chill the fuck out about it, so I ended the contract.

So, I’m not looking for anything remotely committed right now. I don’t even want a situationship after that, so I have no clue what I was thinking when I gave Jocelyn a nickname.

I’m not marrying her.

I’m not dating her.

Though I wouldn’t mind fucking her.

But that isn’t happening, and that’s the last thing I need right now. I’m trying to uncomplicate my private life. She would be nothing but a complication, considering how we met and how our occupations couldn’t be more opposite even if we tried. Her job is to help keep families together. My job—in part—very frequently—is to rip them apart.

One thing I can say about kids and protecting them is that my family stopped recruiting when my cousin Dillan became the boss. None of us are interested in drawing kids who are barely out of elementary school into this world. We don’t go scouting high schools like college coaches. If someone comes to us, and they’re over eighteen, then we might consider it. If Dillan accepts someone, it’s usually a legacy guy. That sorta makes it sound like the guy’s being admitted to an Ivy League. The mob isn’t officially hereditary, but yeah, it is.

It’s not automatically handed down generationally unless you’re born into the boss’s family. I was, so there was never a choice. We’ve been in the mob for three generations on one side of the family and four on the other. When your great-grandfather, grandfather, uncle, and cousin once removed have been bosses, and your cousin is the current one, there’s no declining the calling.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah.” Whoops. I have no idea what Dillan just told me.

My mind completely wandered as I walked to my car and for the last four blocks as I head home. I’m never unfocused.

“Do you have bad reception or something?”

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