The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2) (6 page)

So much for escape
, Vincente thought from his seat in the shadows as he held Nika’s round gaze.
Holy shit. World rocked. With just a look.

He’d gone into the main room a few minutes ago, only to spin and come right back outside when he’d gotten a load of the eye-fucks Vex and Maks were leveling on
his
redhead.

No, not his.

His inner Fan Boy’s.

“Hey, V.”

He nodded at Caleb’s absent greeting, his attention still glued to the guy’s sister.

“You okay, Nik?” Caleb snagged the wineglass from Nika’s hand and came over to plunk it onto the table Vincente was sitting on the other side of, dragging her along.

“I—I’m fine, Caleb. I was just . . . startled. I didn’t know anyone else was out here but us.”

Vincente forced his eyes away from hers, settling them somewhere to the right of her ear. Okay. He could handle this.
Be casual. Act normal.
“Good you made it, Red. How was your flight?”

There was a slight pause, and then her voice hummed into his bones with every word out of her lush mouth. “Uneventful. A little long, but I caught up on some reading.”

He nodded once, figuring the coast was clear for him to head inside again—when had he become such a pussy?—and got to his feet just in time for his muscles to seize. A light breeze had blown from behind Nika, and he had to cough to hide his groan as oranges and jasmine slammed into his nostrils, the scent surrounding him, wrapping him in an erotic tangle of lust.

Hell’s fucking bells.
He needed to get good and gone.

“Vex with you?” he growled at her brother.

“He’s inside. You need him?”

“Yeah. I wanted to compare notes.”

“I’ll go get—”

“I’ll get him,” Vincente barked, cutting off the offer. There was no fucking way he was going to survive being out here alone with her. Not without making an idiot of himself.

“I can go get him if you guys need some alone time,” Nika offered.

Unable to stop it, his focus came to rest on her again. That flaming hair of hers flowed like a molten river, contrasting beautifully with the black material covering her shoulders. He noticed this because he
did not
look any higher than her slender neck. A neck he wanted to bury his face in and just breathe.

Caleb’s sister. Remember? In case you’ve forgotten, again, he’s standing right beside you. And you and your shitty life are not what this chick needs.

“That’s okay, Red.” He cleared his throat and wondered where the gold dress had gone. She was in green now—making her striking eyes pop. “Where’s your old man?”

She blanched at the bald question but recovered quickly. He didn’t miss the subtle tightening of her features as she brought a fragile shoulder up in a shrug. “He had other plans.”

Vincente made a sound to let her know he’d heard her. And stared. So did she. Man, she was so beautiful he could barely stand it. Soft and delicate, and even though she had to be a good five ten in her bare feet, her femininity was undeniable.

And didn’t that bring his protective instincts roaring to the surface like nobody’s business. Without meaning to, he took a step closer, which brought his thighs against the table, and nearly groaned when her lips parted on a quiet breath.

Step back, dude. You forgetting something?

The ringing of Caleb’s cell was a welcome distraction. Both he and Nika looked at her brother as he dug the instrument out of his pocket.

“Sorry, guys,” the biker muttered, then said into the receiver, “Yeah. Aw, fuck off. When did he call?”

Their chaperone walked off as he talked, and Vincente wanted to grab him and yank him back.

“I can see why you chose to be out here,” Nika said, looking around. “It’s quiet. Your home is lovely, Vincente.”

So are you.
“Thanks.”

Something small flapped overhead too fast for them to see, but it was clear enough to be heard. He looked at Nika, waiting for her to duck and shriek, but all she did was smile a little.

“Bats?” she questioned, walking out from under the overhang to look up.

“Yeah. That time of year.”

“Cute little things.”

His brow quirked. “Cute?”

She glanced over and then away. “Eva and I used to work at her mom’s dress shop during the summers. One day we came to work and found a bat had somehow gotten in overnight. We went to the sushi place across the street to decide what to do, and the owner heard us talking about it. He came with a broom and a clear plastic take-out container and caught the thing. Perfect, close-up view—his face was a cross between a mouse and a tiny dog.” She came back to stand next to the table again. “The bat, I mean.” She smiled and bowed her head as if to hide the million-dollar expression, and he wanted to curse because she’d robbed him of seeing it for more than a split second. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d scream the place down if one flew into my hair; they do have teeth. But”—she shrugged—“they’re relatively harmless.”

He jammed a hand into the front pocket of his pants to rattle his spare change, and with his free hand, stuck a finger in and yanked on the collar of his goddamned shirt. “You an animal lover?”

“I’ve never met one I didn’t like. Other than that skunk that accosted me, Eva, and her mom one night as they walked me home from their house. He was aggressive and horrible. And porcupines I also admire from a distance, though they usually won’t do you damage unless they get spooked. Caleb and I always had dogs growing up, but I haven’t had a pet since I’ve been on my own.”

“You’re not on your own,” he reminded her. Or was he reminding himself?

Her head ducked again, no smile this time. “No, I’m not,” she agreed in a subdued voice.

“If they do show, call.” Her brother’s voice broke through, and he hung up, shaking his head and walking back over to him and Nika. “Our boy at NYPD said Smythe is gunning for us again. Jackass.”

Vincente didn’t pay much attention to the griping. The cops were always somewhere in the background. What was news about that? He was more concerned with reminding himself that this woman in front of him was married to some fucknut and Vincente led a shitty life and had nothing to offer her. She was Caleb’s little sister, for fuck’s sake, and the guy was standing right there!

And none of it fucking mattered at all. He still wanted to be wrapped around the redhead’s long, curvy body for a week straight. And given one sliver of a chance, he knew he’d take her. No. Matter. What.

The knowledge was . . . Well, he wouldn’t say shocking. Because he’d always pretty much lived by his own rules, taking what he wanted when he wanted it. But he’d never done so without first making sure any collateral damage was minimal. In this case, it wouldn’t be. And he didn’t care enough about that fact.

That was unacceptable. He usually held himself to a higher standard than that. His mother and sister would be ashamed.

He had to keep his distance from her.

He blinked when Nika stiffened. Noticed because she was all he was aware of. She took that step back that
he
should have taken a few minutes ago, blinking rapidly, her flawless skin paling. Her voice came out just a whisper. “I’m going inside. You coming?”

I wish.

She turned without waiting to see if Caleb, to whom the question had been directed, followed and then disappeared back into the house.

Cigarette smoke and the smell of weed hung heavily in the air as Kevin Nollan walked between two large shipping containers and came to a clearing in the center of the run-down building in Crown Heights. He sidestepped his way around cords and strategically placed lighting systems.

“Why didn’t you bring her with you tonight?” his cousin said over his shoulder as he led them to a disaster of a desk in the corner, surrounded by a half-dozen metal chairs. “She coulda checked things out. We coulda got started tomorrow instead of waiting another day.”

Kevin eyed Darren, his fucked-up family’s resident videographer, wondering again if the guy was going to want in on the action once they started filming. Did he want a piece of Kevin’s property? His wife? The way every bastard who saw her wanted her?

Like
he
had when he’d first seen her walk through the doors of the clubhouse in Seattle—the very one he’d hoped to one day call his own.
Fucking bikers.
Assholes hadn’t let him in. Caleb Paynne hadn’t let him in. He’d heard that prick tell the president of the Seattle chapter that he didn’t think Kevin was Obsidian Devils material.

The president had agreed.

Sonsofbitches.
All he’d wanted was a place to hang. Boys to hang with. The brotherhood that came with groups like the ODMC.

But they’d turned him away. Told him he could loiter but wouldn’t be asked to join their ranks. Would never really belong. Like always.

Fuck them.
He hadn’t needed them anyway. He had something better than brothers now. He had Niki.

And Caleb Paynne’s downfall if she ever left him. Getting the evidence he’d used to bind Niki to his side had been almost too easy, because Paynne had jumped at the chance to play hero. The guy hadn’t needed any prodding to exact revenge on his buddy’s behalf for the scenario Kevin had set up. All he’d had to do after getting Paynne in the right place at the right time was hit Record.

And he’d gotten a beautiful wife out of the deal. Kevin sneered. A beautiful wife who couldn’t even get him hard. She had a couple of times, in the beginning. When she’d walked into the clubhouse in south Seattle with her brother and that bitch friend of hers, Kevin had grown hard as a pipe.

But he’d never been able to get that way once he had her in his grip. Not since Niki had fucked everything up, confused things, turned his simple revenge against her brother into something else. Yeah, he’d thought she was hot and had wanted her. But he’d wanted to get back at Caleb more. Then she’d made him fall for her. Made him value her opinion. Made him feel like shit for only doing what people deserved. What
she
deserved. He felt guilty now when he had to teach her a lesson the way his parents used to teach him and his idiot brother. And the fact that he didn’t like doing it made things worse for her. When he felt that pressure in his chest, he hit harder, went at her longer. But that was all her fucking fault.

And Darren could go fuck himself, Kevin thought as he looked up from the tear in the knee of his jeans, that familiar pressure blooming. They all could. Except for the ones that would get a taste of his wife during the filming. That would teach her to look down her nose at him. To judge him for the shit he did. He’d let these guys do what he couldn’t because he knew that for a girl, getting fucked by someone you didn’t know and didn’t want was as humiliating as it got. And for Niki, it would be several someones at once. It would bring her down a notch. They’d fuck her, and then maybe she’d see herself more on his level. And after the action had been filmed, she’d never see them again.

She’d see Darren in the future, though, because they might have to make more than one movie. That all depended on how much coin this one brought in. He was still trying to figure out a way to have Niki work without spending so much time away from him.

What if she takes a liking to Darren?

His hands curled into fists at the sound of that little voice in his head.

What if she wants your cousin in on the action?

A warped fury filled Kevin’s head. He’d make her pay for that.

“So where is she?” his cousin asked.

“She went to a wedding.”
The whore
, he added in his head. Just like that bitch getting married. The one Niki was friends with.

Nosey, judgmental Eva Jacobs. Should of taken care of her when she came back to Seattle last month. Driven her off for good. Now that she was here in New York again he’d lost the opportunity. Especially now that she was with that fucking guy who’d embarrassed him at the club in Seattle a few weeks ago. Couldn’t fuck with her now. Even Kevin recognized power when he saw it. And that prick who Eva had sucked in was powerful.

“So, are we decided on four guys then? Or did you want the fifth?”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed on his cousin. Did he want to be the fifth? “Four’s good this time around. We’ll see about a fifth next time.”

Darren nodded, as if he wasn’t concerned.
An act?
“Sounds good. She up for it or is she gonna need a little convincing?” He picked up a small vial of clear liquid with a rubber top on it. The kind from a doctor’s office.

“You use that on all the girls?”

“If they’re in need of some happy juice. A few cc’s of this shit and they spread their legs for anyone who comes near them.” Darren laughed as he slipped the bottle into his pocket.

Kevin’s imagination took off at his words, throwing up images of Niki, red hair flying, four complete strangers taking turns with her.
Fuck.
It was lucky they needed the cash, otherwise he wasn’t sure he’d be able to offer her up, no matter the lesson she needed. She was his. She belonged to him, and soon she’d realize it. He owned her so completely, he could control who she fucked and when. Then they could make that move he’d been thinking about. Take her away. Maybe down to San Francisco or LA. Somewhere with less rain. Somewhere her fucking brother wouldn’t be able to bother them anymore.