On The Ropes (22 page)

Plus I now had a baby to think about, along with school, so I needed to collect every spare penny I could get. I’d probably end up going full-time at the Salad Hut until I could get a better position.

Dancing might pay well, but that life wasn’t for me. Even if the club wasn’t overrun with criminals and other unsavory types, I deserved better than that. Too bad it had taken me so long to see it.

Besides, I was pretty sure me shaking it with a big belly wouldn’t excite anyone but the fetishists, and…ugh, no thanks.

“What kind of dancing we talking about here, Anderson? Because I have a feeling you’re not telling me this just to share.”

Yep, suspicious as hell. Understandably, in this case. If I had room left for emotional crises, I’d be drowning in guilt from what I was about to ask. But I didn’t have any other choice, short of missing Fox’s fight with he who would not be named, whose presence at the match was just incidental. And Jenna would make a good night’s take from it, because I wasn’t going to ask for a percentage. I just wanted to make sure I’d have a job left for the next night.

In my situation, an extra couple hundred dollars was important. Just not more important than missing my almost brother-in-law’s fight, since the last time he’d fought Giovanni he’d ended up in the hospital.

“It’s…suggestive dancing,” I hedged. “Very suggestive. Similar to what I’ve seen you do when we go out. You have moves, Walsh.”
Only difference is, you need to lose your top
. “You’ll be in a cage. But only for about an hour and a half total, with a short break between.”

“A cage? What the hell kind of dancing are you doing?”

I couldn’t lie to her. It wasn’t right, and no way would I send her into that situation without the facts. Well, most of them regarding the job anyway. “Topless.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. You’ve been topless dancing since…since…”

“Springtime,” I supplied. “And I’ve made a lot of money doing it. A lot, Jen. On one weekend night, you could easily clear two large.”

“Two large as in grand?”

“Not that large.” I think I had my money euphemisms messed up. “Medium-large then. Two hundred bucks.”

“Wow, it takes me two weeks to make that much at The Cage.” She was a part-time front counter receptionist, along with going to school for, of all things, a dual major in French and theology. She hoped one day to teach at the university level, and claimed she’d decided to major in theology over philosophy to broaden her mind. She wasn’t overly religious, just curious.

On second thought, she was probably the absolute last worst person to ask to dance in a glorified titty bar.

“You know, the more I think about this, the more I realize it’s a bad idea. I was desperate, which is the only reason I asked you.”

“Gee, thanks. My breasts are every bit as good as yours, dammit.” She sighed. “Okay, fine, they aren’t. Yours are like melons. But mine are nice too.”

I took a peek down my shirt. If they were like melons now, what would they be like in a few months? Hot air balloons? “Yours are great. It’s not that—”

“It’s because you think I don’t know how to grind, right? You always tease me about that.”

“No, it’s not about your dancing skills—”

“Then what? Why can’t I make two large in a night like you?”

“Let’s see. Because your brother—brothers, plural—would kick my ass for even mentioning this to you.”

And they’d be right. It had to be hormones. That was why I’d asked a theology student to dance half naked to save a job I’d already quit so I could go watch my mob-affiliated baby daddy in an illegal underground fight.

I grabbed the pillow and pulled it over my head. “I make such bad choices,” I moaned.

“This wasn’t a bad choice. You turned me as a close confidant, assuming that as an experienced, twenty-one year old woman of the world equipped with nice breasts, I could dance for you for approximately ninety minutes without anyone being the wiser. We are similar heights and similar builds, minus the aforementioned boobage,” Jenna mused. “The hair’s a problem though. My baby fine blond can’t hold a curl to save my life.”

“I wear wigs,” I said simply, then bit the pillow. Someday I would learn to pipe down.

That day was obviously
not
today.

“So
that’s
why you store your awesome wig collection at my place. I always wondered why you changed your look more often than a CIA agent. So I could go with pitch black hair down to my butt?”

“Sure, if you could find a wig like that before next Friday night.”

“Cool. I’m in,” she said cheerfully. “So, like, do I need to wear glittery stuff? Because I’m not the best with sparkles. Maybe a leather halter and mini? Jaycee has an outfit like that in her closet.”

Jaycee was her roommate, and probably had a few shelves of stripper-appropriate gear. “That’s fine. Look, Jen, you really don’t have to do this. Maybe I should bring you to the club first, so you could get a feel for it?”

Then again, Giovanni would be there tonight, so that wasn’t the best idea. I didn’t know if he’d ignore me entirely or if I’d start sobbing at the sight of him—hormones were a bitch—but either way, the fewer witnesses the better.

“Actually, go check out the website,” I said before she could answer me. “ThePyramidClub.com. Take a few days to think on it. If you decide it’s not for you, no problem. I’ll just…do something else,” I finished lamely.

They didn’t need me at the fight. I might as well shake my soon-to-be hormonally enhanced boobs for change while the guys worked on putting each other in traction.

“Oooh, the site is so classy! I love it. And the pictures of the club, wow, it seems really swank.”

Not so much when you were in a cage looking down at the masses, but I wasn’t about to pop her delusion balloon. “A lot of high-rollers go there,” I admitted.

And mob guys, and criminals, and murderers…

Just your everyday, wholesome family environment. Hell, I’d probably gotten in the family way there, so—

I frowned. It was just as likely the deed had been done at Giovanni’s apartment as in that back room. I refused to believe my child had been conceived as part of some elaborate…God, I didn’t even know why they did the things they did. Why they’d selected me and insisted we have sex for their sick entertainment.

But Gio understands why. He’s their right-hand man.

When we got off the phone a few minutes later, Jenna was still gushing about the club, and needing to brush up on her moves, and with every passing moment, I felt like more of a jerk. Why had I sucked her into my mess? How could I begrudge Giovanni for doing that, when I’d just learned how easy it was to pull others down with you into the sludge?

I shoved my cell in my pocket and shut my eyes. I just wanted to sleep. I hadn’t gotten much rest since I’d viewed the results on that stick, and my exhaustion was catching up with me.

Rolling over, I pressed my cheek into the pillow. Maybe I’d take a quick nap before dinner. Just a few minutes.

“Carly, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

I shook off the hand on my arm and shot up in bed, gasping. I couldn’t breathe. I looked down at my stomach, and could only see blood. My flat stomach, because there was no baby. It was gone. They’d taken it from me.

Marco smiled, his eyes gleaming with menace. “I’m sorry, gattina. The baby didn’t survive.”

“Carly.” My sister’s face swam into my line of sight. “You were just dreaming. Everything’s fine.” She brushed my hair away from my face. “You were thrashing and crying out. I didn’t know what you were saying.”

I did. I knew very well, because the scream was still trapped in my chest.
Gio.

I’d been screaming for him, because they’d taken my baby.

I locked my arms around my stomach and hunched forward. “I need a few minutes alone,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Sure. Come on out when you’re ready.” She pressed a kiss to my forehead and left me alone with the demons in my head.

Gio could never find out about this child. If he did, they would too. I’d be the one shot dead. Collateral damage.

I’d run away first. Leave town entirely. Just…vanish. If I had to, I’d leave everything behind—school, my friends, Fox, my sister—to ensure we’d be okay. I didn’t know how I’d survive without them, but I was going to be a mother, and that had to come first.

Still riding on the fear from the dream, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and scrawled out a quick note. It would be my last resort, absolutely, but having that piece of paper with me at all times would make me feel secure. I wasn’t trapped in this town with these men who might harm me or my child, even incidentally. I had choices.

Folding up the paper, I slipped into my purse. I’d do anything to avoid taking that step, but if I had to, I would.

Swallowing hard, I tightened my arms around my belly. I’d do whatever it took.

I
watched
her from the corner of the club, helpless to resist her pull.

I didn’t want to see her.

I didn’t want to let her out of my sight.

She danced as if it was any other night. Tonight her hair was a long, brown ponytail that swung every time she propped her heel between the bars of the cage. She shimmied down to the floor and popped back up, pretending to scale the back wall of her miniature prison. Ass shaking, breasts bouncing. Smile never faltering once.

Until I approached her after the second set, and her face turned into a pale mask.

She didn’t address me, didn’t even look my way. Just walked past me as if I didn’t exist. As if I hadn’t been inside her seven days ago.

Had she forgotten already? Because I sure as hell hadn’t. I would never forget.

I waited outside her dressing room, as always. I didn’t know what else to do. There was no way I’d let her walk out alone and take the subway home. Even if Marco and his men saw me with her, and decided I’d been lying, I didn’t care.

Taking care of her was what I did. We’d only had so few weeks together, but I couldn’t stop now. Whether or not she hated me—for good reason—her safety was paramount.

Unless I was inadvertently putting her in more danger. I still couldn’t quite figure out their end game. Did they want us together or apart? Would it be easier for her to harm her if I got jealous and steered clear? Or did they think I was too stubborn to listen to their directives?

Times like this, I missed Dante with a fierceness that tempted me to pick up the phone. Strategy was his bread and butter, and he’d been raised with it at the forefront of his mind. He was very much his father’s son, and with his contacts, he’d be able to tell me what lay ahead.

He might also be the one holding a gun at the end of the road.

I wanted to trust him. Good goddamn, I needed to trust someone. He’d been like my other half for the first decade and a half of my life, but he was a different man now. Family only held sway when it didn’t interfere with the needs of the organization. I’d heard too many stories of fathers killing sons, and friends leading friends to the slaughter.

Loyalty to the family was all that mattered. Not the blood one, but the one you’d given an oath to. And Dante wasn’t on my side.

No one was on my side. No-fucking-one.

She came out of the dressing room and didn’t so much as skip a beat as she walked past me. I followed her to the street, expecting her to fall into step with me even if she had no intention of speaking to me. As long as I could drive her home safely, I didn’t care. But she turned toward the subway as if I didn’t exist.

I’d already become a ghost.

If she wanted to work it that way, fine. As long as she got in my truck, she could ignore me until the end of time. I wasn’t leaving without her.

I shadowed her for a moment, then grabbed her waist and hauled her over my shoulder, carrying her in a fireman’s carry up the street, dodging people while she cried out and slammed her fists into my back. Their power was always a surprise.
She’d
been a surprise from the moment I’d laid eyes on her.

People stared at me, wondering if they were witnessing a crime in progress, but an icy stare from me was enough to have them looking away. A six-foot-three, heavily tattooed and muscled man with murder in his eyes wasn’t who anyone wanted to take on this late at night.

She stopped fighting by the time we reached the parking garage. Stopped making any sort of noise at all.

Once we reached my truck, I let her slide down my body and searched for a way to apologize. Regardless of the situation, I hated to humiliate her and take her choices away—again.

Her eyes were puffy and red, and it hit me like a sledgehammer that she must’ve been crying.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so—”

Her leg came up so fast that I didn’t have a prayer in hell of avoiding it. She moved like a damn ninja, as fast as her sister ever had in the ring. And drove her knee right into my groin, dropping me where I stood.

“Don’t you ever,
ever
, touch me again. Do you understand me? You lay your hands on me once more, and this is going right in your goddamn eyes.” She waved a can in my face, and I wasn’t sure if it was pepper spray or napalm. “And I’ll hope you fucking end up blind.”

Staring up at her as she glared at me with hatred and fury in her fiery blue eyes, I fell so far that there wasn’t a bottom. No end to the well inside me for her.

Christ, I loved her. So much that the burn in my chest was ten times the one in my shriveled sac.

Clutching my aching balls and trying not to writhe on the concrete was a hell of a time to realize the truth. Or to admit it, finally, at least to myself.

I’d committed the ultimate betrayal toward Emilia, and it wasn’t because I wanted to walk away from this vendetta so close to achieving what I’d been striving toward all along.

It was
this
, the love I had for Carly. That was the betrayal.

That was the thing that could save me.

She marched over to the passenger door and pulled it open. “I’m only going with you because I’m already here. But if you don’t get your ass off the ground in thirty seconds, I’m hoofing it back to the subway. I have better shit to do than listen to you whine all night.” The door clicked shut after her.

I sat up and grinned.

It took another minute for me to drag my ass to my feet and make it into the driver’s side of the truck. The sensation between my legs was unpleasant, to say the least.

It was probably a good thing my balls wouldn’t be called into service tonight, because they were far from operational.

Carly didn’t speak on the way home. As I pulled up to the curb in front of her building, I held out a hand to stop her from exiting immediately. I didn’t touch her. I’d gotten that message loud and clear.

“Tomorrow night, I’m going to be there to take you home. I won’t lay a finger on you, won’t even say hello. But I need to do that much. Please.” I hadn’t used that word in too many years to count. I never begged, for anything.

I would beg for the privilege of keeping her safe. It was the one thing I could do for her.

For myself.

She appeared to think it over. “Okay.” She gripped the handle, hesitating longer than was strictly necessary. “Next time, bring my dog. Unless you threw it out,” she accused, her eyes going squinty like they always did when she was pissed.

For a second, I had no clue what she meant.
What dog?
Then I remembered the Dalmatian currently stashed on a chair in the corner of my living room. I’d moved it so I didn’t have to look at it every damn minute of the day and remember how much she loved the stupid thing.

“Of course I didn’t throw it out,” I muttered, strangely affronted. What kind of heartless bastard did she think I was?

The kind you’ve already proven you are.

“Then I want it back. Please,” she added, biting her lip. “I know it’s technically yours, since you played the games, but—”

“It’s yours,
tesoro
.” The stark pain that flashed over her face clued me in to what I’d said. Dammit, I would never learn. “I’ll bring it,” I said quickly, needing her to leave before I did something insane.

Like beg her to stay.

“Thanks.” She climbed out and shut the door.

It was a small victory, though I understood I’d lost the war. Lost too damn much.

I drove home and let myself in my apartment, my only thought an ice cold shower and falling into bed. I hadn’t had a fight tonight, had only trained for the bout with Fox next week, but I was exhausted. My limbs were like leaden weights, only still functional from sheer will.

But it only took one step into the apartment for me to realize I wasn’t alone.

I waited, letting my vision adjust to the darkness. Then I considered where the closest weapon was. My .45 was under the coffee table, but there was a fireplace poker right beside the door. I didn’t have a fireplace. The poker was simply another weapon. They surrounded me, but right now, I’d happily use my own fists.

Someone had invaded my apartment. My one private sanctum.

Before I’d taken another step, a man stepped out of the shadows that had made him. Words failed me as my gaze raced over the features that so closely mirrored my own.

“Giovanni, it’s been a long time,” my father said, his voice as pleasant as a cloudless summer day. “I’ve gathered you haven’t missed me.”

I grabbed the poker and scanned for others out of the corners of my eyes. I might not come out unscathed, but I’d go down swinging.

My father chuckled. “Now, there’s a hero’s welcome. My boy, you disappoint me.”

“I’m not your boy.”

“No, I suppose you aren’t. What is this?” He picked up Carly’s dog and stroked its cheek, sending a wave of disgust through me. He shouldn’t touch anything of hers. It felt like he was tainting her, even from a distance.

Like he’d tainted me.

“Oh, I know.” He set down the dog at his side and snapped his fingers. “This must belong to that lovely girl you’ve taken up with. What is her name? Carly. Yes. Carly Ann Anderson, who lives at Apartment 3B in the Hastings Building on Franklin Street right here in Brooklyn.” He smiled at me while the dinner I’d barely eaten that night churned in my gut. “So close by, she is.”

I clenched the poker, lifting it just enough for him to see the glint from the shaft of moonlight coming through the window. I wanted him to know I was armed. That I would beat him to death for even daring to threaten Carly and not fucking blink. “How did you get in here?”

I knew the question was pointless. All the steps led to the same place, and taking them was like living through
Groundhog Day
, over and over. But buying myself time while I tried to find out his angle was my only recourse.

It would be one thing if he was operating alone. I could kill him and trust that would be it. Carly would be okay—at least from this side of the ledger. The Andrettis were another story altogether.

Except he hadn’t operated alone since…ever. He hadn’t spent years without another’s counsel, as I had. No one to confide in. No one to turn to.

No one to pull me back from the edge I crept closer to with every passing moment.

“I’ve been in here before. I’m surprised you didn’t realize.” He gave the dog one more pat and circled behind the couch, linking his hands behind his back and strolling without a care in the world. Because I was the sweet, soft son. I would never hurt him.

I hoped like hell he still believed that.

“I’ve seen so much. The little love note she left you, the discarded condoms from your nights together. Glad to see you’re being safe. That didn’t work out well for you before.”

Around the poker, my fingers tightened. I moved much faster than my father would ever guess. He wouldn’t realize how many hours a day I trained. Even the residual ache between my legs from Carly’s knee wouldn’t slow me down. I was too used to operating with physical pain, and moving past it.

My father, in his thousand dollar suits and with his expensive Scotch and cigar habit, was not. He’d be dead before he realized he’d been struck.

All I needed was an opening.

“What is the point to this?” I asked, taking a step behind the coffee table. I wanted to be in good position if the opportunity arose. I didn’t know what I’d be unleashing if I brought him down, but eventually the slights became bigger than the consequences.

“The point is, my boy, that while you’ve been cozying up to the Andrettis, I’ve had my eye on you. I know your thoughts before you have them.” He pointed at his head, then at me. “Far be it from me to disrupt your plans, but you might stop to think that maybe, just maybe, you have it wrong.”

He continued strolling, not deeper into the apartment but toward the door. I stared after him, tempted to just bash his head in and not wonder about what fuckery he was taunting me with now. What did it matter? If he walked away, I’d have one more reason to worry about Carly.

One more reason to want to snatch her up and get the hell away from here. Just disappear to a place where no one could find us.

But the reality was killing him might not make her any safer, even for a moment. Any orders he’d handed down would be executed even upon his death. He had commanders to handle thing in his stead. The organization was like a many-headed hydra. Chopping off one head only meant a new, untested one would spring to life in its place.

“What do I have wrong? Enlighten me,
padre
.” I’d tacked on the last bit sarcastically, but he stopped and eyed me for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“Women have always been your weakness. I understand, as they were mine too, once. Your mother diverted me from my path for many years. Even when I righted myself again, her voice was always nagging in my ear. She didn’t like what I did.
Merda
, she’d known all along. When she met me, I wasn’t selling newspapers. I was breaking legs, and it was work I was good at.”

“You call that
work
?” I spat. “Harming people?”

“Such judgment from one who breaks heads as part of his work. Who gets paid to make people bleed,” he said, on the move again.

This time I didn’t even track his movements, because he was right. It was for different reasons, and the men I fought were willing participants, but perhaps it wasn’t that far apart.

“Your brother, he is honest about what’s in his blood. He doesn’t wear his bleeding heart on his sleeve while he aims a gun with the other. He is a true soldier, and happy to do what he is good at. What he was meant for, as you are.”

“You have no idea what I was meant for.”

“Perhaps not, because you allowed a woman to confuse the issue. To put thoughts in your head that shouldn’t have been there.”

“Carly has nothing to do with this.”

His mouth curved in a mocking smile. “I wasn’t referring to Carly, but Emilia. Though it’s all the same with you, isn’t it? Led around by your
cazzo
, always.” He walked to the door and I took a step forward, but not fast enough to stop the words already leaving his mouth. “I put an end to my diversion. Perhaps one day you will too. Or it will be done for you.”