Deal with the Devil (7 page)

“You stay here,” he says, finally. “Lock the doors and get down in the seat. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re leaving me alone!?” Fear lends a high-pitched, shrill quality to my voice that grates on even my ears.

“Relax,” he says, with a small wince. “I just want to check things out.”

Leo doesn’t give me another chance to argue. He slides out of the car before I can stop him and slams the door shut. The car beeps and the doors lock as he hits the button on his remote.

I watch until he turns the corner on the next street and disappears from sight, before moving down in the seat like he instructed.

What am I going to do if he doesn’t come back? Where am I going to go? The thought of being left alone to fend for myself against my crazy-ass family terrifies me.

An eternity passes as I huddle with my knees on the floor of the car. Or maybe it’s only five minutes, but my messed up head can’t tell the difference.

I’m down there long enough that I can’t help but notice how clean the interior is. Even the floor is free of the bits of dirt and dust that accumulate in most vehicles. Leo either never drives anywhere or he details his car on a near-daily basis.

Judging from the state of his apartment, I’m guessing it’s the latter.

The passenger door opens so suddenly that I let out an involuntary scream. Leo is standing over me, nostrils flared and an angry expression his face.

“How the fuck did you get messed up with the Devil’s Rejects MC?”

I stare up at him, still huddled on the floor of his car. “The what?”

“Local motorcycle club caught up in the usual shit — some prostitution and drug-running. They keep their business to shit we’re not into, so we don’t usually involve ourselves.”

“Uh…okay.” I have no idea where he’s going with this.

“A bunch of guys wearing their patch are hanging out around the courthouse. I’d place bets that they’re waiting for you.”

Oh, shit
. “Did one of them have 
The Undertaker
 stitched on the back of his vest?”

“Maybe,” he grinds out, obviously exasperated. “How the fuck should I know?”

“I think maybe Mack sent them.”

“This is real shit, Mara.” The grim set of his mouth worries me as much as his tone. “C’mon, get out”

I slowly climb out of the car. Leo doesn’t raise a hand to help me, true gentleman that he is. Though I probably shouldn’t complain too much, since he’s the only thing standing between me and a group of drug-dealing bikers.

Once I’m standing next to him on the sidewalk, Leo holds out the keys to the car. I don’t take them. “Drive the car back to my apartment.”

“What about the hearing?”

“I’ll call Willy. He can go for you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna get some guys down here and take care of this.”

I can’t keep the quaver out of my voice. “What does that mean?”

“It means what the fuck it means, Mara.”

It’s broad daylight. He can’t possibly be thinking what I 
think
 he’s thinking. “Aren’t you worried about starting a war with the MC?”

“It’s that or let them have you.” He eyes me speculatively. “I bet there’s a nice price on your ass with all that money up for grabs. What do you say?”

“Fuck you.”

“We’ve already been over that, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of his neck, annoyance rolling off of him in waves. I get the feeling he doesn’t spend much time explaining himself to anyone, especially a woman. “I’m not worried about a war. The Devil’s Rejects aren’t big enough for that to be a problem. But I need your ass out of here before I can do anything. Unless you want to wait around for them to go looking for you?”

“Fine.” I snatch the keys out of his hand. “I’m going to be pissed if you get yourself killed.”

“You worried about me?” His voice is full of sardonic amusement. “That’s sweet.”

I walk away from him before I give into the urge to punch him in the throat. I’m completely torn between anger at his high-handedness and terror at the thought that he’s about to get himself killed. “I just don’t want to be out a bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard, huh? That’s a new one.”

He waits for me to get in the car, probably wanting to make sure I actually follow instructions.

I wonder if it’ll be the last time I ever see him.

M
ara looks
like a ghost when I walk back into the apartment. It's been a couple hours since she left me at the courthouse. She sits abnormally still on the very edge of my couch with her hands clenched tight in her lap. Her face is as white as a bedsheet.

She almost jumps out of her skin when the front door slams shut behind me. I realize that she didn’t hear me come in.

“What happened?” She moves quickly around the couch and comes to an abrupt stop in front of me. Her gaze takes in the slight bruise on my cheek and my split lip. Minor wounds compared to the damage that I inflicted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” The anxious look she’s wearing makes me want to kiss her until the lines of worry fade from her face. After the way she threw herself at me this morning, it’s taking everything I have not to force her down to her knees and shove my dick into that smart mouth.

At this point, I deserve a fucking medal for my restraint. Vito, you fat fuck, I hope you’re somewhere burning because I sure as hell am.

I don’t know why I’m even acting like such a fucking saint. I want her and she apparently wants me. I remind myself that the situation is complicated enough as it is, there’s no reason to make it worse.

But I need to get her out of here and back to that prissy school of hers as soon as possible.

I go to the kitchen and grab a bottle off the top shelf of the cupboard. I don’t even bother to look at the label before pouring a full glass. Alcohol burns down my throat as I take a healthy swig. I instantly feel a little better.

Mara is still looking at me like she’s got her heart in her mouth. I feel the perverse need to reassure her, like I fucking care.

“It’s fine, Mara.”

“What happened?” she asks again.

“We took care of it. They’re off your back for now.”

She raises an eyebrow and gives me that haughty look that I’m coming to realize is just the normal set of her face. “And what about later?”

“I’m still working on later.”

Truthfully, I have no idea what we’re going to do. The MC will keep their distance for now. But knocking a few heads together isn’t going to keep them away forever. Short of taking out Mack, a few bikers and probably her mother too, I can’t think of a single thing that will get them off her case forever. That much money on the line is a potent inducement for mayhem. Under other circumstances, I might be tempted myself.

And I realize that I’ve been thinking in terms of 
we, 
instead of 
she. 
Like we’re in this together now, or some shit. Damnit.

This is what happens when you try to do the right thing.

Mara turns away from me. She walks back to the couch and sinks slowly into it. Any other woman would be in hysterics, but not this one. You can see it in her eyes. The wheel’s in this girl’s head never stop turning.

“Would you come sit with me for a minute?”

I eye her suspiciously. Something in her tone alerts me to the fact that I’m not going to like whatever she’s about to say.

I don’t move. Whatever she has say, I can hear from here. “What?”

She turns to look at me over the back of the couch. “Come sit.”

“No. Talk.” I use that brusque tone that’s convinced every woman I’ve ever known not to push me.

Of course, it doesn’t work on Mara. She just looks at me with a tiny smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re really stubborn, you know that.”

She’d see stubborn when I put her over my knee, flip up her skirt and spank her bare ass until she bleeds. “Spit it out, woman.”

Mara lets out a weary sigh like I’m the one who’s impossible to deal with. “Fine. I’ve been thinking about what I can do about all this…well, actually what we can do.”

“What 
we
 can do, huh.” My tone is deliberately sardonic. I try to remember when I agreed that this was all also my problem. I’m drawing a blank. “And what’s that?”

I see the annoyance pass over her features, but she’s doing her best to hide it. Probably because she’s about to ask me to do something that she knows I’m not going to want to do.

“The real problem is that Cecile still thinks she can get at this money. Right now, it’s just threats to get me to sign it over. But eventually she and Mack are gonna figure if they can find a way to just get rid of me without getting pinned, the cash goes to her by default.”

I’m surprised and a little impressed by how matter-of-fact she rattles it all off. Like, 
oh yeah, gotta figure out what I’m gonna do when my own mother tries to murder me.

I’ve worked hard to be stone cold. Makes me wonder what the hell Cecile must have done to Mara as a kid to make her like this.

“What’s your point?”

“I have to stick around long enough to make sure the will gets sorted out with courts. I also need to get the accounts in order and move everything around. Something tells me that Cecile got her hands on at least a few of Papa’s account numbers over the years. I can’t go back to school until that’s all done. But short of sleeping at the police station, I’m running out of safe places to stay.”

“So you want to crash here for a while?”

“Well, yeah.” She says that like she’s already been offered my hospitality for the duration. Presumptuous little brat. “But that still doesn’t stop them coming after me.”

“Just spit out.”

“Jesus, you’re impossible.” She blows out a rush of air. “The only way I can think of to protect my inheritance is to make sure Cecile and Mack know that if something happens to me, the money goes to someone else.”

Her hands nervously clench and unclench in her lap. For anyone else, the movement would have been pretty much unnoticeable. But for someone as nonreactive as Mara, it means she might as well be sweating bullets. There’s something about this that I’m not getting.

“What, like donating it to charity?”

“It would have to be something that they wouldn’t want to go up against. Mack isn’t afraid of a charity.” She pauses and I realize what an effort it’s taking her to get this out. “But I think they might be afraid of you.”

“You want to leave your money to me?”

“No. I want you to marry me.”

This crazy bitch
. “No. Hell, no.”

She glares at me. “You’d rather they just kill me?”

I’ve done more for this broad than I have for anyone still breathing. But this is a bridge headed out into the ocean, or too fucking far as the saying goes. “I’m not doing that.”

“It would only be temporary, just until I figure something else out. We can get an annulment after a few months.” Real fear flares in her dark eyes. “You are literally the only person that can help me right now.”

“Sorry sweetheart. The answer is no.”

I expect the tears that I think I see shining in her eyes to fall, but once again she surprises me.

“You promised Papa that you’d take care of me.” She regards me solemnly. “Doesn’t that mean something?”

“I sincerely doubt this is what he fucking meant.” The idea is so ludicrous that I want to look around for hidden cameras. This has to be some kind of prank because the universe wouldn’t be this cruel. “You want protection or someone’s head bashed in? That I can do.”

“I’d pay you.” Her mouth sets in a stubborn line. “However much you want. Fifty thousand? A hundred?”

“I don’t need your fucking money.”

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything. I just need a piece of paper. You can go on living your life the way you always have after I go back to school. I just need something to keep Cecile and Mack off my back.” She stands and comes around the couch, her palms up in entreaty. “Look, I get you’re not attracted to me. But it’s not like I’m asking for a real marriage.”

Not attracted to her? 
Is that what she fucking thinks? After that searing hot kiss this morning, I pushed her away because I was trying to do the right thing, for the sake of Vito’s memory. Though it seems like the more I try to do right, the bigger the pile of shit I end up having to shovel.

Maybe I should try doing the wrong thing.

“You think I don’t want you?”

Mara looks startled. “You said you didn’t.”

“No, you’re wrong.” I gently wag my finger at her. “I said that it wasn’t going to happen, but maybe now I’m reconsidering.”

“What does that mean?” Her voice quavers ever so slightly.

“It means…keep your money.” I take a slow step toward her. She takes a reflexive step back, her face wary. “I’ll marry you — keep you safe from those jerk-offs — but I want something else in return.”

I can see the little pulse in her neck flutter as she swallows. I bet it takes her a real effort to get any words out. I may have teased her a bit before, but that was just fun and games. Now she has my undivided attention.

“What do you want?”

I smile and I know it’s menacing. “You.”

I think of all the women that have practically run screaming from this apartment when I tell them what I want to do to them. All the times that I’ve given it to a girl vanilla and sweet like she wanted, when I want anything but sweet.

To her credit, Mara doesn’t flinch. There’s a backbone of pure steel running through this chick, I’ll give her that.

“You’re going to have to explain that to me.” Her voice is deceptively calm.

“You think I’m about to have some broad sleeping in my house, eating my food, with a ring on her finger and I don’t fucking touch her?”

I push into her personal space, deliberately trapping her between my body and the back of the couch. She could climb over it to get away from me, but I don’t think she will. It wouldn’t be dignified.

Silence descends as we stare at each other. I want her off-balance and a little afraid. I want to break down that imperious and impersonal shell to get to what’s underneath.

“Are you drunk?”

I can’t help but smile at that. “Sober as a church mouse. This is all me, baby.”

“What exactly are you saying?” she asks, making a good impression of someone that’s not cornered like a mouse under the paw of a house cat.

“I’m saying if you want this, then you’re going to get it all. I have particular tastes. My 
wife 
doesn’t get to say no to anything that I want to do.”

The fear is still there, but a look of slight curiosity crosses her features. “What is it you want to do?”

“Everything.”

“So, what?” If I didn’t have such a good read on her, that imperious tone would be enough to hide a nervous little stutter. “I…I agree to be your little sex slave or you throw me to the wolves?”

“Sounds about right.”

I wait for her to react to that, but she just stares at me. "Would you hurt me?”

Yes. 
“I’d make sure you liked it — most of the time.”

I tell myself that I’m just trying to scare her away, get this ridiculous idea out of her head. But the part of me that craves the control, the part of me that feels a little spurt of satisfaction every time I lay one between the eyes of a target — it’s hoping she’ll say yes.

Because that same part of me wants to
 own
 her.

My hand rises slowly, giving her a chance to tell me to stop. But she just stares up at me, lips slightly parted, and waits. She’s the most intoxicating mix of strength and vulnerability.

It’s delicious.

I touch her throat, stroking my fingers down the jumping pulse in her neck. One hand wraps around her throat. Just the barest use of strength could snuff the very life from her. I’m so much bigger than her and stronger. I wonder if that’s the allure for women, that not-so-subtle edge of danger in being close to something deadly.

“Leo—"

“Sir,” I correct her, smiling a little when her lips pull together in a thin line. She doesn’t like that.

“Like hell.”

“It’s this or the door, sweetheart.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Try me.”

“Sir,” she bites out.

I know I’m taking advantage of her. I know that it’s wrong. But the thought of having this girl here and doing what I want with her, is more alluring than almost anything else I can imagine. And she’s getting something in return. It’s fair.

“Turn around.”

She doesn’t move, stubborn resistance is written into every line of her body. “What are you going to do?”

I shake my head. “What are you going to do….?”

“What are you doing…sir?” she bites out.

“I’m sampling the merchandise before I decide if I want to buy.”

Indecision flits across her face as she considers it as she stares up at me. She’s obviously trying to decide how real my threat is. It’s real enough. I have no problem kicking her ass out. All the goodness in my heart was sucked dry a long time ago.

Mara turns on shaky legs, her body tense. She’s obviously wondering what I’m going to do to her.

I’m wondering the same thing.

I push a hand into her thick hair and yank her head back to expose the long curve of her neck. She swallows hard, making her throat jump.

I chuckle. “Gulp.”

“Fuck you, sir.”

That smart mouth of hers is really gonna get her in trouble one day. She’s lucky I’m in the kind of mood where I think it’s more amusing than disrespectful.

My fingers tighten in her hair, pulling a little harder. She lets out a tiny gasp that has me rock hard in an instant. My gaze moves over the arch of her throat and down to where her tits are practically spilling out of the tight tank top she’s wearing.

Her nipples are hard like tiny beads under the fabric. I suddenly can’t wait anymore to get my first look. One hand keeps its tight grip on her hair while the other slides down her throat and pushes underneath the neckline of her top.

I pull down on the shirt, exposing her chest to the cold air.

“The fuck?”

A raging blush picks up on her cheeks and travels down her neck and chest. It’s like a bright red trail straight to the little bits of metal poked through her nipples.

“Don’t say it—"

“Nipple piercings?” I ask on a burst of laughter. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

She squirms uncomfortably in my arms. “I was drunk and my friends took advantage.”

“This, I’m going to have fun with.”