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I shook my head. “No. You just killed me. I’m not sure I can walk.”
Before I knew what was happening, he lifted me into his arms and carried me inside. The garage opened into an expansive living area that was bare except for a lone couch sitting on a large rug, overlooking a glass door that stretched the length of the room.
He placed me down on the couch, and I immediately stood, and said, “I need to use the bathroom.” Glancing up at the mezzanine level above us, I asked, “Is it up there?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
I headed upstairs, taking in the exposed brick walls, polished concrete floors, and industrial-type fixtures and fittings. King’s home was masculine to the nth degree, not only with all those things but also with the dark greys and browns throughout. The only thing that surprised me was the lack of furniture. He had the couch downstairs, and upstairs he had a king-size bed and another rug, but so far, that was all I could see. The bathroom had a handful of toiletries, but not many belongings. It was almost like he didn’t actually live here.
I used the bathroom and made my way back downstairs, finding him in the kitchen. This room appeared more lived in, and I wondered if perhaps he was just in the middle of renovating the place, because it was amazing. I took a good look, loving what I saw. The high ceiling and large windows lent space and light to the room and allowed his use of black for the cupboards and black granite for the kitchen counters to work well. The splash of colour coming from the brick walls accented the black beautifully.
Meeting his gaze, I said, “Your home is not at all what I was expecting.”
He rested his ass against the counter and crossed his arms. “What were you expecting?”
“Well for one, a lot more furniture. Other than that, I guess I just wasn’t expecting a home that looked like an architect or designer had been in recently. I wouldn’t have picked you for a guy who would hire either of those. Are you renovating at the moment?”
He considered that question for a beat. He then moved to where I stood and said, “I bought this place eight years ago, but I don’t live here. I’d intended to renovate it and have a family here. Those plans got fucked up, and I walked away and just let it sit. I came back about a year ago to finish the work so I could sell the place, but for some fucking reason couldn’t bring myself to sell it, and never did finish the renovations.”
“It looks pretty good to me. You mustn’t have much left to do.” It looked better than pretty good; the perfection in what I’d seen showed he clearly valued attention to detail.
He looked out through the doorway to the living area. “There’s still a fuckload of shit to do.” Settling his eyes back on me, he added, “Figure I might get started on that soon.”
The way he said that made me feel he meant something deeper by his words, but I couldn’t be sure. “By the looks of what you’ve done so far, you’ve put your heart into this place, King. I can’t wait to see it when you’re finished.”
He studied me intently, causing flutters in my tummy. I didn’t know why, but there was something in the way he watched me. He didn’t say anything further about it, though. Instead, he finally dropped his gaze to my breasts and said, “You see that bed upstairs?”
I smiled and nodded. Was this a trick question?
“Get your ass up there and get naked. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I didn’t wait for any further orders.
I did as he said.
But as I went, I grabbed my bag he’d brought in and left on the couch, because I had toys and I’d be making him use them.
25
King
“Ghost isn’t giving us any hell,” Nitro said after church early Monday morning. “He’s staying with his sister still, and his brother has thrown him some work. I’ll keep an eye on him, but from what he’s told me so far, he doesn’t seem interested in stirring up any hell.”
It had been two weeks since Ghost had been released, and I hadn’t seen him or heard from him. And that was exactly the way I liked it. I’d had Nitro and Hyde lay down the law with him, making it clear Storm wouldn’t hesitate to deal with him if he was even seen looking at the feds.
“Good,” I said, turning my attention to Kick. “Where are we at with D’Amato?” The last he’d told me, there was nothing happening there, but my gut told me that if the feds knew about Moses, it was only a matter of time before D’Amato got wind of it, too.
“There’s nothing to report. He has a routine that’s more anal than any I’ve ever seen, and he doesn’t seem to deviate from it. Monday through Thursday is work and family. Friday is work and then boxing with his Pulp Fiction friend.” He stopped talking for a moment, grinned, and then said, “It’s the craziest shit, the guy looks like that actor from Pulp Fiction. And the weekends are mostly with his family. I got Zane to tap into his phone, and there hasn’t been any talk about us or the feds or anything that would lead me to think he knows.”
Hyde leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So where the fuck are the feds directing their attention? And how fucking long are they gonna drag their feet on this? I’m tired of sitting around waiting for the shit to hit the fan.”
He wasn’t the only one. Axe’s guy had advised me that regardless of what Detective Stark had told us, the case wasn’t as tight as they’d thought. Eliminating Romano had helped with that, but also the information he’d given them had proved not as useful as they thought, because after all our visits around Melbourne and Sydney, no one was willing to talk about Storm to the feds. Also, their new witness looked likely to walk. At this point, I was more concerned about the fallout from D’Amato if they talked to him about Moses to confirm that information. And that all circled my thinking back to Stark and the fact I hadn’t dealt with her like I should have.
I looked at Hyde. He was pissed I hadn’t handled Stark, and had been very fucking vocal about it. “Getting Stark on our payroll is an option,” I said.
“You’re fucking kidding me, King. If you’d just done what you went there to do, we wouldn’t be sitting around discussing one of your shittiest fucking ideas yet. You’re going soft, brother.”
“You’d do fucking well to watch what the fuck you say,” I snarled. “Removing her from the case would only lead to them replacing her, and the body count would just keep rising.”
