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I clench his T-shirt in my balled fists, burying my face in his chest, my body wracked with sobs. I can hardly draw breath. Can’t swallow. “Why?” I croak, pushing myself deeper into his chest. He says nothing.
He knows why.
Because of him.
9
DANNY
The next morning, I’m onboard my jet on my way back to Miami far sooner than I expectedorwanted.
With my wife.
On top of the untamable rage simmering, ready to boil over and erupt, is my untamable worry. I can hand on heart say I have never been so stressed. Rose protested, of course she protested, when I told her I was returning to Miami. She saw the monster inside rousing, but she didn’t know why. I spat it all out while shaking uncontrollably. Worst thing I could have done. She got out of bed and dressed, then packedbothour cases. I didn’t stop her. Was incapable. She looked as determined to come as I felt determined to kill, and manhandling Rose is out of the question right now. So is arguing with her. I didn’t want to bring her. I also didn’t want to leave her behind, especially on bad terms. Rose doesn’t want to be in Miami. She doesn’t want to leave Daniel behind. That fucker The Bear didn’t take my father from this life. Beau will be inconsolable. She’ll need Rose. And Rose can see the unbridled rage inside me. She’s my calm. I’m going to need that.Fuck.
I see Ringo on the steps of the mansion as we’re crawling down the driveway, his tall, sturdy body static and oozing menace. It reminds me that I am not the only one who loved and respected Carlo Black. Fucking hell, The Bear’s move isn’t only the lowest of the low, it’s the most hard-hitting message that could be delivered, and meant to be.
No move is too low.
I pull to a stop and look up at my rearview mirror to Doc in the back. He looks as impeccable as ever, his tweed suit pristine, his gray beard freshly trimmed. “Take her to our room and get her settled,” I say, and he nods, getting out and rounding the car. I can feel Rose’s eyes on me.
“Call me anything but my name again, Danny...”
I close my eyes, hearing Doc open her door, and she gets out, leaving me behind the wheel once again trying to get my head on straight. It feels like it’s constantly spinning on my shoulders.
On a deep breath, I get out and follow Rose into the house, Ringo flanking me. He doesn’t speak. I come to a stop at the bottom of the large sweeping staircase, watching her climb the steps. She’s wearing jeans and my favorite jumper with the Union Jack emblazoned across the front, her dark hair tied up in a ponytail. I’m momentarily taken back to three years ago, when I watched her walk down these steps before I took her to the boatyard for the first time. To the time she was my prisoner. My bargaining chip. Love fucked me over then. And it’s fucking me over now, because I will not make one move without first considering Rose. And that hampers me. She’s my Achilles heel. And I love her as passionately as I hate bringing her back to war. I hate that I yelled at her, suggesting she was never happy.
What do I bring to this relationship? I make your life even more difficult. Cost you money, time, stress, and what do you get in return?
I hate that she doubts herself. Doubts how precious she is to me. She brings everything I never thought I’d have to my life.Love. Acceptance. Purpose. How can she not see that?
“Danny?”
I blink and see Rose disappear at the top of the stairs and turn to face Ringo. He’s motioning toward my office down the hall. “Talk,” I say as we walk side by side.
“James is upstairs with Beau.”
“How is she?”
“I don’t believe there’s an adequate word.”
I inhale, knowing that to be true. There’s not an adequate word for my anger either. “And James?” He’ll be in my camp. Ready to go psycho. All we both fucking want is peace. Calm. Not just for our women, but for us, and every time we think it’s ours, the rug is pulled from under us. We both accepted getting out of this world was impossible. That we’ll always need to rule it and eliminate all enemies. Easier said than done when you don’t know who the enemy is. And on top of that, Tom Hayley is running for mayor and, fuck knows, he hates us and is likely to make our lives as difficult as possible. Or even more so.
“Don’t ask,” Ringo sighs, opening the door to my office. I stand on the threshold for a few moments, as ever having to brace myself to enter. It still smells of him. Like brandy and cigars are embedded into the walls. Today it smells more intense.
Goldie and Otto are on the couch, and Brad is walking in circles. Our eyes meet, and he shakes his head mildly. “Things are about to get very messy,” I say, striding to my desk, laughing to myself. Whenever have things been clean in my world? “If you’re not up for messy, you can leave now.” I take a seat and cast my eyes across the office to the unmoving bodies of my closest, lacing my fingers and taking them to the back of my head, stretching. It’s an impulsive move, as if I’m widening my chest, giving my pounding heart more room to beat. The pain from my slashing mission has lessened, a deeper, more potent pain replacing it. Brad reaches into his pocket and comes to me, setting something on the desk before me. Green eyes stare back at me, dulled by mud.
My throat begins to close as I snatch it up and put it in my top drawer, slamming it shut. “Are we waiting for James?”
“He won’t leave Beau,” Goldie says, her face a picture of disquiet. She knows what James is capable of. Add Beau’s hurt and grief into that mix? Between James and me, we’re all in for one hell of a showdown.
“Someone get Higham to the club later,” I say, standing, needing to keep moving or risk imploding. Ringo goes straight to his mobile. “How’s the boatyard?”
“Ticking over nicely,” Otto says. “Liam and Jerry need a raise.”
He’s right. They do a grand job between them. “Fine,” I mutter. “The club?”
“All good,” Brad chimes in, and I look at him. Vague, to say the least.
