The younger recruits in our clan could always use a bit of torture training but volunteers aren’t easy to come by in this line of work.
“And the Irish?”
I run my tongue along my teeth. “We already killed one of theirs, plus his side-kick. They’ll have got the message we’re not fucking around. I also took a bullet from Saint Fucking Patrick, let’s not forget that.” I heave in a pained breath as if to labor that point.
“But, I don’t want any more rookie attacks on our businesses, so set up a meeting and let’s figure out a more sensible truce. We can cut them a deal on one of the shipments coming in from Cuba. That should pacify them.”
“Consider it done,” Remo concludes. But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he continues to eyeball me like he knows I’m keeping something from him.
“You have a week and a half, brother.”
Don’t remind me.
I feign ignorance. “To what?”
He lifts a shoulder. “To break her.”
“Oh, right. That. I’m well aware.”
He shifts forward, resting his forearms on the desk between us.
“You still want to, right?”
“Of course I do.”
“Because the way she came skipping down from the eighteenth floor the other morning… doesn’t look like you’ve been making her life hell up there.”
I bite down on my cheek to stop the smile.She came skipping down?
“Don’t worry, Remo,” I lie. “I’m playing the long game.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Pfeiffer
Ten nights to go.
I’m still glowingdays later and my priorities are a little torn. I had the most amazing night—and morning—of my life, with a man I’d fully expected to despise until I was six feet under.
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to continue to experience earth-shattering orgasms the rest of the day, into the night, and maybe forever.
My stomach lurches wistfully. I let my guard down for the first time, telling him why I couldn’t bear to feel his—or anyone’s—hands on me. He was persistent about finding out who it was, but I have no intention of letting another living soul know that.
But, while I wish I could have stayed in his warm, thick, protective arms, I also need to be here, with Dad, making most of the time we have left.
His forgetfulness is increasing day by day and I still haven’tgotten him a doctor’s appointment. I don’t know how I’d pay for it. A quick rummage through his papers revealed that he does have some medical insurance with his job at the hardware store, but I don’t want to disclose his illness to his employers just yet. They might let him go, and I’ve heard that when you take away someone’s purpose, they fade even faster. I couldn’t bear for that to happen.
I close the door behind me softly, but when I turn around, he’s standing in the hallway. I almost scream in surprise.
“Dad? You okay?”
“Where’ve you been, love?”
He knows I have a temporary job in a bar but I’ve never pulled an all-nighter before, and now I feel guilty as hell.
“It got late. I didn’t want to wake you, so I stayed at a friend’s place,” I lie.
I walk up to him noticing his face has gone all pale and gaunt.
