Page 27 of Her Dark Mafia Protector
“Let me guess, it’s got a cracked pot?” she giggles. “I’m starting to think that a few scars here and there are more like badges of honor.”
She reaches out with both hands as I walk closer and touches the scars running down my forearms.
“You never told me how you got these,” she says as her fingers trace along the lines of the scars that mingle with my veins.
“Trust me, it’s not something that you’d want to know. You already know too many unsavory things about me as it is.”
“It would be impossible for me to think of you as unsavory now,” she says as she stands on her toes to kiss my lips. “Just like it’s getting harder for me to see you as the Ghost.”
“Oh? Who do you see me as then?” I ask.
“JustNico,” she says. “A man, flaws and scars and all. Not a hero, not a ghost, not a monster. Just a man who has done his best to do the right thing.”
Everything about Elle makes me melt on the inside.
While I stand in front of the coffeemaker waiting for it to brew, I start to think about that night in the alley. I want to make up for it. I want to make up for my inaction and for not stepping in to stop things before her mother was killed. I feel now like Ineedto make it up to Elle.
When the coffee is done, I hand her a cup and watch as she sips it while looking out my apartment window at the Strip in the distance. That’s when an idea comes to me. Thereisstill one thing that I can do to atone for the role that I played that night, and for the consequences that my inaction led to. I can still try to give Elle closure by bringing her the men responsible for the actual act of murder that stole her mother from her. I can bring her father to stand judgment before her, and I can find and deliver the killer who pulled the trigger that night, too, because while I might have shot him, I didn’t shoot to kill that night. All I need to do is find out who that man is. I’ll go back to the nightclub and shake down the Bratva in ways that only theGhostknows how to do. I’ll get his name and then bring him to her so that she can decide how to claim her closure over what these two terrible men did.
If I hurt or kill them myself, it will create a debt for me that will involve other facets of the mafia family system. I’m not the one that the gunman wronged. But if I bring the killer to face Elle and letherdecide what she wants to do with him,thatis playing by the few rules that the mafia has. No one can deny me the ability to do that.
“I have something to do this morning,” I tell her when she turns around. “Will you be okay here alone?”
“You want me to stay here in your apartment?” she asks. “But I have work to do.”
“I’d say that after all you’ve been through, you deserve a day off,” I say as I give her a small kiss on the cheek before getting ready to go get dressed. “Take a sick day, or a mental health day. Your schedule should be a bit lighter now that you don’t have to spend so much time huntingme. I won’t be long, and I’ll be bringing something back for you.”
Elle shoots me a smirk and agrees to stay at my apartment for the day while I am out. “Okay, fine. What is it?”
“Asurprise.”
I go to get Elle’s father first, since he will be the easier of the two men to apprehend. He is technically on duty this morning, which means that he’s sitting in his patrol car outside one of the casinos waiting for one of hisunofficialcontacts to drop off a payout.
Over the years, there have been many times that I’ve had to get into the back of a cop car quickly. It has enabled me to develop a certain skill in the matter. I pull out a small, stiff wire from my pocket and walk straight up to Detective Monroe’s patrol car. He’s so preoccupied staring at the building up ahead and waiting for his guy to show up that he doesn’t even glance in his rearview mirror until I’ve already stuck the wire into the lock and opened the back door of his car. Honestly, you’d think by now that the city would invest in better security technology for its fleet. It works to my advantage, though, so I’m not complaining.
“Good morning, Hale,” I grin as I slide into the backseat and point a gun at the back of his head.
He doesn’t stand a chance at being able to counter me in time. Not that he doesn’ttryto.
“I don’t think that I would reach for anything if I were you,” I warn him. “Trust me when I say that I would truly enjoy pullingthis trigger and watching your brains splatter all across the front windshield. I haven’t done anything violent yet this morning, and to be honest, I’m kind of itching to.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hisses as he pulls his hands back out where I can see them.
“That’s a rich question coming from a man who had his wife killed in front of his daughter.” I glare at him and then urge him out of his car and into mine.
My carisoutfitted with better tech and security, thanks to Zara’s talented help. So, once Detective Monroe is in there, he can’t get out.
Next stop—the nightclub.
I don’t wait until they open for business, even though their hours are nearly round-the-clock. I’m welcome anywhere, or at least my person as theGhostis. I’m not so sure that the open invitation continues to stand, though, after what I did last night, barging in and busting Elle out of here before the Bratva could sink their claws into her. I guess we’ll see.
“Gutsy.” The bartender snickers as I walk inside the back door that is reserved only for employees and “special” VIPs. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you around for a while after that stunt you pulled last night. You know the boss is still mad as hell about it, right?”
“Your boss isnotmy boss,” I say, unfazed by his low-key warning.
“That’s right, I forgot. You work forno one, or at least that’s what the rumors say,” he chuckles as he dries a few glasses and hangs them upside-down by their stems above the bar. “Althoughrumor also has it that you favor a few of the top players—the Morettis, for example, as being one of them. I guess that means you know one of their girls was in here last night, probably acting up to no good.”
He's referring to Zara, and I ignore him. I don’t know exactly what she was doing in here last night, but I doubt Vincent sent her. He tries to steer clear of this place, too; it’s a cesspool for trouble. Plus, as angry as I still am at Zara for having put Elle in danger, she’s still my friend, and I don’t want to stir up any more trouble for her than she’s already in.
