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I stifle a sigh. I not only like the man, but I also respect him.
I scrub my face with my hand and stretch back in the chair. “I’ve got an issue.”
“Christ, Marco, when are you going to nail the woman down and stop fucking around?”
“Come again?”
“I didn’t stutter. I like you, despite your last name—”
“You forget my sister has the same last name.”
“No, she has my name,” he growls in return. “The point is that even though I like you, you called when I’d rather be fucking your sister instead of fucking around with you. So, take my advice and lock Helena down.”
“I’m working on that,” I mutter.
“Bullshit. I’ll believe it if that means you’re telling me the issue you have has nothing to do with Helena.”
“Well, it does—”
“Lock that shit down, Marco.”
“There’s nothing to lock down,” I growl.
“Then, how is she a problem?”
“She’s in Phoenix, Arizona.”
“I know.”
“You know?” I snap.
“Her and Lina talk almost daily. So, yeah, I know.”
“Well, I just found out she’s working for Zervas Cirillo.”
“Christ,” DeLuca responds.
“I need that situation contained and I don’t have that reach. She knows my men. If I send them in, it will make shit worse. Helena loves this job. She has enough reason to hate me. I need to give her a little freedom without…”
“Without giving her freedom?” DeLuca finishes.
“Mostly,” I admit, the truth of that statement burning in my gut.
“This wouldn’t matter if you’d—”
“I thought you might know someone out that way. Someone willing to alert me if she gets in over her head. While I get some things done here so I can bring her back.”
“You already know she’s going to get in over her head,” he practically groans.
“I’ve not heard of Zervas personally hurting a woman…”
“But?” DeLuca prompts.
“He hates me almost as much as I hate him. If he finds out Helena is mine…”
“Christ. Okay. I don’t really do business out that way. I do work with the Russians who have a stronghold in the area. Killian has some men out there who can help. I’ll shoot him a message have his guys reach out.”
I rub the back of my neck. It burns that I’m having to ask for help at all. I’m going to turn Helena’s ass red for this shit. I make a fist with my hand, frustration rolling through me.
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t thank me yet. E-Z—the man who will get in touch with you—is a good man but he also has a taste for blondes.”
Fucking great.
“If she decides to go to another man, and that man is a good man, then I’ll deal,” I mutter.
“Do me a favor, if you’re going to lie to yourself, stop trying to sell me the same lie. I don’t believe that shit and I don’t think you do. I don’t know what kind of bullshit you got slithering around inside of you—”
“I—”
“I also, don’t care to know—as long as it doesn’t interfere with what you do for me. What I do know is that shit builds up and if you don’t deal with it, it will get you killed. Deal with it brother, because losing you would make my woman unhappy and that would piss me off. Got me?”
“Got you,” I respond. What he’s saying is probably true, but fuck if I know how to change. I’m too old to try at this point.
“Later Marco-Polo.”
I growl under my breath. “You know I hate that shit.”
“Why the fuck you think I do it?” he laughs and hangs up.
Asshole.
I shake my head and toss my phone onto my makeshift desk. I close my eyes and immediately Helena’s face fills my vision. Fuck.
Lock her down.
I shake the thought away. DeLuca doesn’t understand. He doesn’t have the filth boiling inside of him that I do. I haven’t taken a breath of clean air in so long… Shit, I don’t know if I ever did. My old man poisoned everything, and he did that from the day I was born so chances are I never have and never will.
I need to make sure when I bring Helena here, I can keep her happy. Having her living in a fucking construction trailer with no gallery to work in will not do it. When I get her here, it needs to be perfect.
“Fuck,” I hiss and get up.
I’ve got a house to rebuild based on my woman’s plans. The rest will have to wait. I can only do so much…
Chapter 30
Helena
I look down at my phone and immediately panic when I see Marco’s name. The urge to let it ring and not answer is so strong that I can’t catch my breath. It’s probably not good to be terrified by a phone, but I am just the same. I pick it up off my nightstand, staring at it, willing it to stop ringing. At the fifth ring I decide I’m being a wimp and pick it up.
