Page 3

CHAPTER 3

Ford

S ix months ago

Billie and I actively avoid one another as we mingle with family and friends in Dutton’s backyard to celebrate his girlfriend’s son’s sixth birthday. If you’d told me a year ago that Eli Monti, my boss, and head of the Italian mafia in New York, would fall in love and get married but that his equally unhinged cousin, Dutton, would be smitten with a woman, I might’ve actually laughed.

But they’re both lovesick fools. It’s not that I can’t tolerate love. I just find the notion of it unsettling. It means things are changing. And I don’t particularly like change. Especially when, in the past, it always meant that Hawke and I were first to be discarded.

Not that I think Eli will throw us to the wayside; we’re too damn efficient. But if those two are somehow finding what I didn’t think was possible for any of us… Well, then fuck. It’s definitely going to be just me and Hawke again. Because I’m not interested in that level of commitment, and Hawke can’t keep his dick in his pants for longer than two seconds, let alone be faithful to one woman.

“Fuck off, Hawke!” I hear Billie yell.

“Shh, we’re at a party for kids, little tornado,” he teases as he holds something too high for her to reach. She looks around and notices her parents shaking their heads in disapproval. My brother has always had a playful relationship with Billie. If anything, I’m certain Dutton thinks Hawke might try to fuck Billie. If only he knew he was suspicious of the wrong twin.

Either way, I’m not a fan of watching them together.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” Ivy asks, coming to stand beside me. Her short blonde hair is smoothed back, and her blue eyes are fixed on the others, playing over what I now notice is a small gift. Most likely, Hawke is trying to steal the gift Billie brought for Bentley because he didn’t think to bring one.

“Hasn’t it always been?” I ask rhetorically. I like Ivy Walker, but I wouldn’t trust her as far as I can throw her. I say that about most people. It’s mostly because of the way she keeps to herself. She’s a bit of a mystery, even though I’ve known her for years. She’s close with Billie and my cousin, Hope Ivanov.

“It’s even more when my father’s here,” she says with a smirk, watching Will Walker talk to Billie’s parents, Honey and Dawson Taylor. Alina, Will’s wife, stands silently next to him, looking amused. Will has the ability to piss everyone off, and yet, somehow, everyone still likes him. That’s exactly why I’m suspicious of Ivy. She’s a prankster, in a weird, twisted way that only she seems to find humorous. Though, I do enjoy it when we play chess.

I glance back in the direction of Hawke and Billie. My eye twitches at the way she clings to his arm, trying to use it for leverage to jump higher.

I turn and head toward the house.

I need something sweet.

Now that a kid lives in Dutton’s home, there are more treats available, which is fucking fantastic for me.

I’m searching through the pantry when Billie walks in. She leans against the counter, pours a glass of water, and hands it to me. She then pours herself a glass of vodka and orange juice. A long time ago, she picked up on the fact that I don’t drink alcohol and that I only pretend to do so when around others. Not because I give a shit about what they think, but because there are certain things I don’t want people to notice about me. So I try to throw them off the scent.

“Are you not going to talk to me at all?” she asks, placing the small box between us. “This might be what you’re looking for.”

My gaze dips but not to the gift. She’s wearing a low-cut shirt that’s showing off her perfect breasts. A small, heart-shaped gold pendant hangs at her throat, and I stare at it, trying to focus on anything other than devouring her with my gaze.

I want her.

I want my next hit.

I want to eat her pussy on this counter and smack her black and blue for ignoring me all day. And it doesn’t make any fucking sense because she hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I want to fuck you. Now,” I tell her.

She sucks in a sharp breath and looks over her shoulder as if someone might hear. They can’t; they’re all the way out the back.

“We can’t do that here,” she whispers. And that’s exactly why I try my hardest to stay away; I struggle to control my impulse to grab her.

To break her.

To devour her.

To brand her.

“Here, this might tide you over. Sorry, the box is broken a little because of your brother, but I baked you some cookies. Eat them in private in the bathroom or something.” She laughs as she slides the box toward me.

I go to take the box, my hand covering hers. The feel of her smooth, cool skin against my hot, callused palm breaks my resolve. I yank her toward me and cup her pussy, holding the box in my other hand.

“I want to eat this,” I growl, and a small moan escapes her lips. “I want to taste your sweet cunt right now.”

Her lips part and then close. “Not here,” she replies, sounding unsure.

I step into her space, pressing against her so she can feel my hard cock against her stomach. I just can’t control myself around this woman. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

“Kiss me?” she asks.

My eyebrows drop.

“Kiss you?”

“Yes, Mr. Badass. Ever done it before?” She waggles her eyebrows in amusement as she looks into my eyes. I don’t fucking kiss. Ever. But if it’s all the crumbs she’ll give me right now, I’ll fucking take it. “We can’t fuck here, but I might be open to?—”

I crush my lips against hers, taking whatever she’ll give me. Whatever will tide me over until the next time I can get my hit.

She seems startled at first, but her tongue finds a rhythm against mine, then submits to the way I devour her. I place the cookies down and cup her cheeks, consuming her. Scared that if I let myself get used to this, I won’t be able to stop.

A soft whimper escapes her, and she tugs at my belt greedily. I begin to lift her shirt off. All of her. I need all of it. Every last bit she’s willing to give me.

Something crashes, and Billie shoves me away.

“What the fuck?” Hawke says in disbelief. “What are you doing?”

Billie pulls her shirt back down, and I reach out to help because I don’t want anyone else to see her like that.

Especially my brother.

Then, a predator steps into the room, and I’m immediately ready to fight.

“What the fuck?” Dutton snaps. Hawke’s staring at him in shock. Dutton barges past Hawke and shoves me away from his sister. I don’t even think I’d try to fight him. I’d probably let him pound me into the ground, knowing Billie would hate me if I hurt her prim and proper brother. Who, by the way, I actually like.

I don’t even feel guilty.

“Dutton! It’s not what it looks like!” Billie yells. “I had a bug on me!”

Dutton pauses, glancing between me and Hawke as we silently communicate in the way twins sometimes can.

The thing about my brother and me is we’d lie for one another.

Die for one another.

Kill for one another.

But right now, I’m silently communicating that I’ll handle this.

“Is that true?” Dutton demands, not at all believing Billie’s explanation. And if he were to take one look at my cock pressing against my jeans, it would tell him that’s the biggest fucking lie. But he’s seeing red. I’ve seen what Dutton does when he’s in these moods, and I’m waiting for the punishment.

I go to speak, but Hawke beats me to it. “It was pretty fucking big, but don’t tell Eli I’m scared of them or anything.”

Dutton’s eye twitches as he looks around as if searching for the imaginary bug. He can’t seriously be falling for this. Then again, why would he have any reason not to trust us? We’ve always had his and Eli’s backs.

I feel a sense of guilt because, yet again, I can’t refrain from my impulses. Billie’s so terrified she doesn’t even look my way. And I realize then that it might be shameful for her to be seen with me. She is, after all, basically a princess. I’m no more than a street rat who was polished into a killer.

“And why were all three of you in here anyway?” Dutton asks, and I can tell he’s trying to calm himself down.

Billie rolls her eyes. “You can’t seriously be pissed right now? And we came in to get the cake.”

“The cake’s out there,” he says suspiciously, staring her down.

Whatever she sees in his expression makes her pause, but only for a moment before she starts arguing.

“Hello? Did you forget I enjoy baking? Did you really think we’d only bring one variety of cake?” Her tone is sassy, yet I can sense the hint of nervousness in it. “Gosh, you’re so insufferable. I need to find Hope and Ivy to get away from all this testosterone.” She huffs as she heads for the door. “Besides, shouldn’t you be getting your shit together?” she asks with an arched eyebrow.

Dutton swallows, and realization dawns on his expression. I notice him looking at the stack of plates on the counter, and I hand them to him. He nods but seems unsure as he stares at my brother and me.

Then he takes his leave.

I don’t feel any particular way about it. But I’m certain that whatever Billie and I had is now over. It was bound to come to an end one day, but my hands ball into fists as I grapple with accepting it.

The moment Dutton closes the door behind him, Hawke shoves me against the pantry door, fisting my shirt. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I don’t do anything to resist him. I know I deserve punishment for touching her. I just didn’t expect to get hooked on her in the process.

“Say something. Are you serious right now? I thought I had a problem when it came to women, but you’ve chosen the one woman in this entire fucking world who is off-limits. What the fuck are you thinking?”

I shrug.

Hawke shoves me and takes a step back. “Fuck, Ford.” He runs his hand through his jet-black hair. “When did it start?”

I curl my hand around the box of cookies. “About six months ago.” His jaw drops. “It’s nothing serious.”

“How the fuck have you kept this from Dutton?” he demands.

“She only comes around when he’s out of town. Besides, he was never looking. He’s been preoccupied with his own shit.” I jut my chin in the direction where I can hear everyone clapping.

Hawke peers out the window and then throws his hands up in the air. “Dutton’s down on one fucking knee. What the fuck is happening around this place? First Eli and now Dutton.” He turns on me. “Don’t start getting ideas. It’s you and me. You know we’re incapable of that shit.” He grabs the back of my head and brings our foreheads together. “If Eli finds out, think about how this might affect him.”

My fingers curl into my palm. Does Hawke think I haven’t considered that? That I don’t know the chaos it might cause? I’ve devoted myself to Eli and the Italian mafia. And that reminder makes it that much harder. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

Hawke sighs as if he understands. “If it’s just sex, find someone else. It ends here and now, okay?”

I nod. Killing is the only thing I’m good at. The only thing I’m useful for. And Hawke fucking loves it. We’d survive if Eli decided to cast us off due to my indiscretion. We’ve always been survivors. Hell, we could probably take over our mother’s business. But I don’t want to be the reason for any of that. I don’t want to let down Hawke again because of my impulses.

“Understood,” I say, and he lets out a breath and straightens. He then notices the box in my hand and points to it.

“She baked me cookies,” I admit.

He rolls his eyes and snatches the box from me. “You’re not eating her fucking baked goods if it’s only sex.”

Within seconds, I have him pinned against the pantry, his shirt fisted in my grip. “You can comment about my shitty choices, but you don’t get to dictate when I can and can’t eat my cookies.”

He’s pissed, and despite being bigger than me, I’ve always been faster than him. Although we’ve never truly gone blow for blow, we both know it’d be pretty fucking even. And the one thing he knows not to fuck with me over is my sweets, more specifically, one’s she baked for me.

“For fuck’s sake, why do I only get anything out of you when it comes to food?” he growls and hands the box back to me. I back up, my temper quickly receding as my stomach simmers contently.

“I’m going to congratulate the happy couple. And I mean it—you two are done,” he says.

I run a hand through my hair, knowing too well he’s right. We got off by sheer chance this time, but it was too fucking close. I’d become reckless. I open the box and then bite into the first cookie, immediately satisfied by the sugar hit.

And I’m not at all surprised when my phone buzzes with an unknown number.

Unknown Number: I’m sorry I freaked out. But we have to stop. I’m sorry.

My jaw clenches, and I have no right to be annoyed by it. It was only ever sex.

I just didn’t think it would impact me like this.