Page 17 of Veiled Amor

Capone might feel a flicker of joy for her, knowing she needed out of her father’s strict ruling.

But he also knew this was only the start of the shitstorm.

The unhappy tension stung his skin.

There was no recollection of Capone booking a plane ticket to Louisiana or packing a bag, or catching a cab to the airport because his mind was reeling.

He was going to lay eyes on the woman who’d tormented him for years.

The woman he’d fucked on the day they’d put his whole family in the ground. The day she’d laid rest to her husband.

“Give me strength, Holy Mother Magdalene ,” he muttered to himself.

Tense like a caged lion.

He was going to need it.

Like a kicked dog who was still loyal to its master, he took many fortifying breaths that day and headed toward the danger.

Shit was never gonna be the same after this.

SEVEN

“Biker on an airplane.” - Capone

Who the fuck could catch sleep on a plane?

Probably psychos and kids.

Not Capone, that was a fact.

No such luck for getting some sleep after Rider’s wedding when he was striding through the Louisiana airport with his guts on fire, knowing what he was walking toward.

Seeingheragain.

No matter how much she might have changed, he knew Lucia was still going to be killer beautiful. At nineteen she was stunning, and maturity could have only made her better.

Capone wasn’t ready for it.

Hadn’t he avoided this shit forever?

Laying eyes on her was never in his plans, because it would mean being in Miami, and that was the last place he’d ever go back to.

Too many memories were clawing through the white meat of his brain. So fucked up on a normal day without adding in his anger, too, if he caught the sights and smells of his old home town.

If he were in Miami, he’d be compelled to hunt down Nicholas Cole and beat the ever-loving fuck out of the wolf until his insides spilled onto the floor.

He remembered why he couldn’t do that and chewed down on his teeth until his jaw ached. It was anyone’s guess if he could resist putting hands on her the moment he saw her. Not like he controlled himself the last time, for fuck’s sake.

The call with Lucia lasted only a few minutes. He was no more the wiser about why she’d fled. But Capone couldn’t say he wasn’t fucking thrilled she’d finally done it.

The cab dropped him off at a motel complex sometime later, his eyes cut to two slits, surveying the sleazy place.

Walking along the landing, he heard a loud TV coming from one room, rowdy sex from another, and a piercing argument from the room next to hers. By the time he thumped on her door, he was fit to burst with his anger barely simmering beneath his skin.

Not a second later, as if she’d been watching out for him, the door swung open.

And there she was.