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“We wait.” He nodded firmly, his jaw set, his eyes hardening with stubbornness.

“For what?” I asked, throwing my hands up in frustration.

I was answered by the approaching sound of roaring motorc

ycles, the vibrations small and faint until they grew louder and stronger until the glasses in the kitchen began clinking together and the windows began shaking in their panes.

I looked questioningly at Dante.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face.

“For my brothers…”

Dante

“So you just fucking kidnapped her, Dante?” Angry Bobby whispered, as we all stood outside the cabin. Gabby and I had walked out to greet them, but they had already seen the news. “You didn’t think that maybe kidnapping a mob princess was a bad idea?”

I groaned.

“I didn’t fucking kidnap her! And, I didn’t know who the fuck she was at the time. Not until a few hours ago,” I explained.

“Well, what the fuck were the two of you talking about all night then?” Gio asked.

Romeo snickered and I felt Gabby tense beside me. I reached over to her and grabbed her hand and squeezed gently.

“Probably not a lot of talking going on,” Romeo joked.

“Shut the fuck up, Romeo!” I growled. I was in no mood for his bullshit. “Look, we have to figure out what to do, how to handle this.”

“We do, huh?” Alonso asked. “Why ‘we’?”

“Why ‘we’?” I asked, anger rising in my voice. “Maybe because we’re a fucking team, Alonso, or did you forget that? Did you forget everything we’ve been through? Did you fucking forget what happened in Afghanistan? Or maybe that didn’t mean anything to you, huh?”

“Dante that’s not what I meant…,” Alonso replied, shaking his head.

“No?” I asked, my voice raising. “Because for a second I thought maybe you forgot that I saved your ass from that fucking IED? Maybe you forgot that the only reason you still have both your fucking legs is because of me?” I was in his face, yelling like a lunatic, rage filling my veins. I’d blown up like a fucking bomb. Out of nowhere.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought.

“Chill the fuck out, Dante!” Italo said, getting between me and his brother and pushing me back. “Listen, dude, of course we’re a team. Nobody’s forgotten that. We’re here for you, brother. You just gotta tell us what you want us to do.”

I took a deep breath and walked a few feet away, pacing between the bikes.

“Sorry…” I muttered a half-assed apology, glancing at Alonso. He shrugged it off, and lit a cigarette, taking a long, slow draw.

“So what are we dealing with exactly?” Italo asked. “All we know is what’s on the news. There was a kick ass fight, and now you’re both wanted for the murders of two of the Iron Godz. How much of that is true?”

“They fucking started it. One of those bastards hit Gabby, I had no choice but to kick their ass. We didn’t know at the time that we killed anyone.”

“I saw the video on the news,” Bats said, shaking his head. “Looked like the bartender was filming while you two were going all Kill Bill on the Godz. Two of the guys took barstools to the head and they never got up after you left.”

“Video. For fuck’s sake…” I said, glancing over and meeting Gabby’s eyes. Her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip started quivering.

“I didn’t mean to kill anyone…” she said, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks.

“Fuck,” I muttered, pulling her into my arms. “Of course you didn’t. That fucker deserved it, though. He never should have put his hands on you.”

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Alonso said. “What’s done is done. We gotta figure out where to go from here, brother.” He closed the distance between us and hugged me briefly.

“But first things first,” he said, looking at us. “Are you two okay?” Alonso had more medic training that any of us, and he was the first person to think about shit like that.

“We’re fine,” I said, my head replaying the fight in my head. I didn’t know much about Gabby, but if there was anything she’d proven to me last night, it was that she was tough.

“Not for nuttin’, Dante, but I gotta say - after seeing that video - I’m surprised only two of those pricks died,” Bats said. “The two of you did a number on the place. I was impressed.”

“They were a bunch of pussies,” I muttered over Gabby’s head, inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of her hair. She leaned into me, the warmth of her body making me wish everything was different.

I wished I could just tell the guys to leave and take Gabby back to bed and forget any of this ever happened. I wished she wasn’t who she was. I wished that stupid fucking fight had never happened. I should have just grabbed her and left with her, leaving those assholes standing. But no.

I let my stupid fucking pride get in the way. Yeah, of course they deserved it, but what harm would have come if I’d just walked away?

Honor. I was always concerned about honoring people, respecting people. Always demanding that same respect was given and defending that honor when necessary. Especially when it came to women.

Hell, I knew why. I knew where it all started. My fucking wife-beating asshole prick of a father. He’d finally left us when I was eight and it wasn’t a moment too soon. Not before causing a lifetime of scars and making me get neck-deep in countless situations where I’d have been better served to just walk away.

Some of the scars you could see. Like the small moon shaped scar under my right eye where his wedding ring caught me when I threw out my crappy dinner instead of eating it. I’d never been hit in the face before, and he made damn sure I didn’t forget it once I had. It took weeks for that cut to heal.

But most of the scars were in places that I made sure nobody saw. Because I didn’t open up to anyone and I liked it that way. And yet, despite my best efforts, here I was - tangled up in some shit that I didn’t know how to get out of.

I forced myself to let go of Gabby and started pacing again. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Waiting. Waiting for me to pull some magical plan out of my ass.

The fucking mob was looking for me because I’d run off with the Boss’s daughter.

The fucking Godz were looking for me because I’d killed two of their guys.

The fucking cops were looking for me because of both of those reasons.

As far as I could see, I was fucked. Pure and simple. Fucked.

And yet here I was, still concerned about someone else. Still concerned about defending and protecting someone.

I glanced back at Gabby and saw the fear and confusion in her eyes. She was used to Daddy getting her out of trouble, but that wasn’t going to work this time.

“We stay here. That’s all I’ve got right now. Nobody leaves,” I strolled past them, their questioning eyes staring me down - everyone but Bear, who was standing quietly at Gabby’s side - wanted answers I didn’t have.

Yet. The answers would come. I just needed time.

I left them all outside, closing the door after Bear followed me in, and headed straight for the kitchen.

I may not have any fucking answers, but I had a bottle of whiskey, and for now, that would have to do.

Gabby

One by one, the members of Dante’s club turned off their bikes and tore off their helmets. If I hadn’t already had the daylights fucked out of me by Dante, and if I wasn’t totally freaked out by finding out that I’d allegedly murdered someone, then I was pretty sure I’d be melting from all the testosterone these guys were throwing around.

For fuck’s sake, each one of them were extremely hot in their own right.

Alonso and Italo looked like they’d just stepped out of a fucking Italian GQ magazine - their smoldering eyes and lashes for miles were enough to stop any woman in her tracks.

Angry Bobby had eyes so gentle and kind that I wanted to crawl into his arms every time he flashed them at me. He had long black hair, longer than Dante’s, and it whipped around his face in the wind as we all stood outside of the cabin talking.

Gio was a man’s man. All thick muscle and machismo, his python-sized biceps threaten to rip right out

of his leather jacket. His long black hair hung in a heavy braid down his back and he had a tattoo of a snake around his neck that scared the shit out of me. He didn’t say much; instead, he kept his arms crossed over his chest, his face drawn tight as he listened intently to everyone else. His eyes were like black pits of mystery that left me wondering if anyone ever got close to him. And if they survived.

Romeo was the hottest of them all, even hotter than Dante in a way. You could tell he was the player of the group. He strutted around the parking lot, pacing with nervous energy. He was tall and thin, his ropey, sinewy muscles rippling with every step. He wore a black patched leather vest with a tight black t-shirt underneath, leaving his heavily tattooed arms exposed. It was his grin that appeared to be his secret weapon. The confident way he flashed it at me made me glad I was wearing jeans, because I was pretty sure my panties had melted away.

Bats was the most interesting of all, though. He was tall and lanky like Romeo, but he was quiet and calm. So much so, it was unnerving. Like Gio, he watched everyone from the sidelines, his intense blue eyes seeming to look right through me when they fell on me. His presence was confident and demanding. Sure, he only had one arm, but I didn’t really notice. Neither did he, apparently. He seemed to get along just fine without it. I watched in silent amazement as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulled one out, and lit it on his own. He caught me watching, and I looked away quickly, heat rising to my face.

“So, you’re Loprinzi’s daughter, eh? What’s it like growing up a mob princess?” Alonso asked after Dante disappeared inside the cabin. I wished like hell he hadn’t left me out here with these guys alone, but I was determined not to appear weak. It was obvious they already thought I was bad news.

“It’s not - look - do one of you have a phone? If I could just get to a phone to call my dad, he can sort all this out.”

“Daddy’s girl, eh?” Gio grunted, his arms still folded over his massive chest.

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