Page 17

B oyd

I pull out of Sarah, slowly, listening to her gasp when I’m gone.

It’s the first sound I’ve heard out of her since we finished.

I gingerly let go of her hips and ease her to the mattress, scooping her with one arm as I do. I shuffle her spent body until she’s settled and resting against me.

I like having her here. More than I should, but I’ve claimed what is mine. If this pisses Massimo off, he’ll just have to get over it. Him and his new bride. Nothing will come between me and the girl in my arms. Ever.

I made that decision the moment I kissed her lips and tasted what I wanted more of.

Sarah dozes off against me, so I let her sleep. I reach for a cigarette, light it, and get more comfortable.

I’m not ready to rest quite yet. I’m buzzing with an energy that is more fulfilling than smashing in doors and letting the rage simmer right below the surface before it rises and snaps some asshole’s neck.

This is the kind of high you don’t come down from. The moment you feel it pass, you go back for more. There are guys around me every day who find this with a gun in their hand. A boy becomes a Made Man. A Made Man becomes a psychopath. Then the boss calls me to clean up the problem.

Or that’s how it used to be, before Erica stormed into my life and started what I never realized would be a downward spiral. Straight to the fucking bottom, before two pretty blue eyes and a lovely laugh made me believe things could change.

I take a drag from my cigarette and exhale. There’s still a glass of whiskey by the bed, so I down a satisfying gulp, then just drain it.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I fucking needed that.”

I look down at Sarah and brush some hair away from her eyes. Her lips twitch into a smile and she nestles against me.

I never thought I’d have beautiful moments like this.

I let the bitterness sour me on the idea, entirely.

But maybe it’s possible to cling to this.

Massimo did. I never thought he’d run on anything but malice and poison after his wife was murdered.

I’m not surprised Erica thought the Morandi family would be better off with someone else in charge.

But certainly not Emilio, or her running things until her fucking kid comes of age.

That’s all over now. Massimo is back. The guy who used to come to the Broken Lily to see his best friend and bastard brother. The guy we all knew would be the leader the Morandi family needed after Salvatore finally retired.

If Lea can do that for him, then maybe Sarah can do the same for me. Give me purpose. Give me a reason to get up every damn morning—and an even better reason to go to bed. That’s what I’ve needed for a long fucking time.

I crush out my cigarette, get comfortable with my head against the pillow, and hold Sarah close.

I’m asleep in a matter of minutes.

It’s late in the evening when I wake up, and I startle myself because of the unfamiliar environment, which jostles Sarah awake too. She sits up with a blank stare, then a smile tugs the corners of her beautiful lips.

“That was the best sleep I’ve had in… ever,” she sighs.

“Slept away the entire fucking day,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes as I get my composure. “But damn, you’re right. I’ve needed that for a long time.”

“Now I need a shower,” she groans, pulling away from me. I stare at her gorgeous naked body as she stretches her arms. “I’d ask if you want to join me, but the showerhead is barely tall enough for me. We’d have to aim it straight up.”

“When you’re my size, you get good at squatting,” I sigh as I push myself out of bed.

“Your poor knees,” she winces.

“They’re fine,” I chuckle. “I was on them a long time and they’re not even sore.”

“Hah,” she giggles. “If you hadn’t been holding me so tightly, I wouldn’t have any skin left on mine with as hard as you… fuck.”

I laugh under my breath as I follow her into the bathroom. It’s not an easy fit, but I make it, and I get to put my hands all over her gorgeous body again while we bathe. I make sure her soft, pouty lips get nice and clean, too, by checking them regularly while the water cascades down our bodies.

Still, my knees are grateful when we get out and return to the main part of her hotel room.

“I’m pretty hungry,” Sarah says, taking a hit of her vape.

“Yeah, me too,” I admit, sitting down on the bed and running my hand through my damp hair. “But I really don’t feel like going anywhere.”

“I’m staying for free, and that includes the mini-bar and room service.” Sarah picks up the menu and tosses it to me. “Let’s order something.”

“I feel like I could eat the damn menu,” I say, flipping it open and looking over the familiar items. “I eat this shit all the time, so why not?”

We order enough food to feed a ravenous pride of lions, and she cuddles against me on the bed while we air dry what is left of the dampness from our shower.

Once we get a call to let us know the food is on the way, I get dressed, and she slips on a robe.

I make sure she’s out of sight before I open the door.

“Oh, Big Boyd!” the employee says. He’s been working at the hotel for years, so he recognizes me, but I have no idea who he is. “Didn’t realize you were staying here. I was bringing room service to a Miss…”

“Me,” I interrupt, then I yank my money clip out of my pocket and peel off a generous stack. “And as far as anyone else is concerned, you haven’t seen Big Boyd at all today. Got it?”

I shove the money in his hand, and he nods, then scurries away.

He works for the family, even if he’s just a hotel employee, so he gets the nice way of being told to keep it to himself.

I’d prefer to tell Massimo myself, and while people saw us get on the elevator, that’s about as far as anyone needs to know things went until I get the chance to speak with the boss.

Then I’ll scream it from the top of the fucking Salvalagio.

“Alright, we ordered like we haven’t eaten in a month, so…” I chuckle and start removing the covers from the plates. “Dig in.”

Sarah doesn’t respond, so I look over and see she’s scrolling through her phone. Intently, with panic radiating in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, tilting my head slightly.

“What the fuck?” Sarah says. “There was a murder in Las Vegas! Several hours ago… What? They’re saying it’s the Mafia Prince Killer! That’s impossible. Arthur Dykstra is in prison!”

I tense up immediately and dig my phone out of my pocket. I don’t have a single message or missed call.

“It says there was something written on the wall at the scene that… said Arthur Dykstra is innocent! The police haven’t released any information about what it actually was,” she rattles off.

I keep staring at my phone. There was a murder in Las Vegas? A serial killer? A serial killer who kills the children of crime bosses. And nobody called me?

“Who did he kill?” I ask flatly, feeling some sourness in my mouth. I grab a cigarette and light it.

“Oh!” She scrolls through her phone. “Liam Brennan. His father is a businessman. That’s what they all say, of course.”

“Shit, Lloyd Brennan’s kid?” I shake my head. “Damn it. He’s the same age as Emilio’s son.”

I start texting a few people, trying to figure out why nobody has reached out to me. Massimo is in charge now, so it wouldn’t be on him. Probably not even Rowan, since he’s the boss’s bodyguard, and likely to be the second in command until Emilio’s kid is old enough.

But still, somebody should have reached out. I’ve been sidelined a long fucking time, but I’m still a ranking member of this damn family. Still hold the position of Bodyguard Capo, which is only given to those assigned to protect a member of the boss’s immediate family.

I look up, take a drag from my cigarette, and see Sarah is still scrolling through her phone.

Frantically scrolling, as she continues to read.

I look back down at mine as it starts lighting up with responses.

It doesn’t take me long to realize nobody reached out because nobody really noticed I wasn’t there.

Fallen from grace? Fuck, I might as well be a ghost.

Sarah runs to her laptop, opens it, and hops on the bed. She winces when she touches down on her ass, but finds a comfortable position.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m going live!” she says excitedly. “I don’t have my equipment here, so I’ll have to do it old-school, but this…

” She looks up and her eyes are radiating the same excitement in her voice.

“This is my thing! The Mafia Prince Killer! I don’t know if it’s a copycat, or if Arthur Dykstra is really innocent, but I’ve got to get a podcast up with the details as they become available! ”

I shouldn’t do this. Oh, fuck, I shouldn’t do this. This is a really, really bad idea.

But she’s so excited. Maybe more excited than she was when I was inside her. Those pretty blue eyes—they make bad ideas seem like good ones.

“Or we could go to the scene of the crime,” I offer, shrugging my shoulders.

The color drains out of her face, along with the excitement. Both of them quickly return.

“Wait, what?” She looks around and lowers her voice like she’s afraid the neighbors might hear. “We can do that?”

“The Brennan family answers to the Morandi family,” I say. “And so do plenty of cops. If I want to go somewhere in Las Vegas, nobody is stopping me.”

“Even doors,” she laughs nervously and takes a hit of her vape. She quickly closes her laptop and nods. “Okay, but can I talk about it on my podcast? Won’t that be a problem?”

“Well, I don’t think you should describe it in detail or anything, but you said the police haven’t released what was written on the wall, right?” I wave a hand toward her.

“Holy shit.” Her eyes light up. “That always leaks! I’d have the scoop, and it wouldn’t even be that surprising!”

“Exactly,” I say, reaching for my suit jacket. “But we really should take something to eat on the way.”

Sarah nods in agreement and starts getting dressed.

I pile some food that looks like it will travel well into a few napkins and wrap it up.

I shouldn’t do this at all—dragging her along to a crime scene.

But fuck it. My family doesn’t seem to give a damn about me tonight, and I can do something for her nobody else would.

I need to look into this anyway. Since Massimo is the boss, and his baby hasn’t been born yet, there’s no immediate danger for the Morandi family, but there’s still plenty of others in Las Vegas we are supposed to take care of.

The Brennan family certainly won’t feel like we’re doing our job well tonight.

“Ready!” Sarah says, grabbing her purse and scrolling through her phone.

“Alright then,” I sigh, walking to the door. “Let’s go.”

So much for boundaries.

Here I go looking for trouble again.