Page 228 of The Rising


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“Okay,” I reply, loving attentive Beau. Looking after me. It was never something I considered could be. Could accept. It’ll be a while before I’m back in the gym, but I’m prepared to take small steps, take my time and use it wisely with Beau.

When we make it to Danny’s office, she pushes the door open, and everyone looks my way. I gesture to my casual attire. “It’s as good as it gets right now.”

Beau helps me to the couch and eases me down. I’m a lot looser. I could have done it myself, but I’m humoring her. Mothering me suits her, and that thought alone makes me smile.

“Be gentle with him,” she quips, bending over and dropping a kiss on my lips. “Behave.”

“Yes, ma’am.” It’s also sexy as fuck. She needs to leave before I abandon this meeting and take her back upstairs. Old man be damned. “Go,” I order.

She smiles and saunters out, and my eyes follow her arse until the wood comes between us. I pout, smiling to myself, planning all of the making-up sex I have to look forward to.More.She’ll beg me for more again.

“Hello?”

I blink and look around the room. Everyone’s watching me. “Get me a drink,” I breathe, motioning to the full bottle of vodka on the cabinet. Goldie obliges and swiftly gets a tumbler in my hand. That first sip. Fucking heaven. I shake my head on a grimace when Brad offers me a cigarette. “What’s the plan?” A newspaper lands in front of me, the front-page news quite something. I pick it up and read the article by Natalia Potter detailing the tragic death of Detective Collins at the hands of Russian ex-KGB mobster Marek Zielinska. Another newspaper lands on top of it. Another compelling front-page story. Oliver Burrows. A hero, killed in service by a bent FBI agent who was assumed dead. Beau’s mother’s face is next to Burrows’s. “Has Beau seen this?” I ask, looking up at the date. Two weeks ago.

“Yes, she’s seen it,” Danny says. “In fact, she met with Natalia Potter and made sure all of the details were accurate.”

I raise my brows, reading the damning report into her mother. Closure. Okay, so apparently I haven’t known where Beau’s been twenty-four/seven.

“I’ve managed to stall the second delivery from Chaka,” Danny says, pulling my attention up as he pulls a pack of Marlboros from his pocket and lights up. “The Mexicans aren’t happy with us.”

I wince, knowing what that means. We might have lost a bear and a zoo, but there’s always another enemy to replace the last. “And Sandy wants guns.”

“Thank fuck,” Brad says. “The bunker’s bursting at the seams.”

I smile, relishing another sip of vodka as Danny’s phone rings and he looks down at it. “Let’s see how many he wants.” He answers and gives Bud instructions to bring Sandy to the office before hanging up and taking his seat at his desk, relaxing back. And the office falls silent until there’s a knock at the door.

I brace myself for the murderous feelings about to descend as it swings open, but when he steps into the office, I feel... nothing.

“Afternoon,” he says, giving everyone a moment of his eyes. “You are all here for me?”

“We’re famous for our hospitality.” Danny smiles around his cigarette. “Why don’t you take a seat?” He motions to the chair opposite him. “Drink?”

I smile around the rim of my glass, feeling everyone else’s amusement too. The Brit being all hospitable? It’s a novelty.

Sandy takes a seat and nods to me. I nod back, a silent acceptance of his olive branch. “My business is out of state,” he says, getting to the point.

“Are you saying you’re leaving Miami?” Danny follows Sandy’s lead.

He smiles. “I don’t think this town is big enough for the two of us.” He looks at me. “Or three.”

“Four,” Brad growls from the couch, making Goldie chuckle.

“It’s not,” Danny confirms. “So you’ll be taking the guns you buy from us to... where?”

“Many will be sent home. Some will remain with me in New York.”

“New York?” Danny muses. “The Italians have New York.”

“I’m favoring the Italians over The Brit.” His eyebrows rise. “Also, the Mexicans owe me. I can ensure they do not trouble you.”Interesting. “Are we talking or not?”

Danny looks at me.

I knock back my drink. New York is far enough away from me, which means Miami is ours and ours alone.

Normality is looking more and more likely. I nod to Danny as the office door opens and Rose wanders in, looking up. She freezes. “Shit, I’m sorry,” she blurts, backing out. “It can wait.”

“Everything okay, baby?” Danny asks, standing from his chair.

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