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“There he is,” she says and smiles at me.
“Do I know you?” I ask instantly on alert. Just because she’s a pretty woman doesn’t mean she isn’t a threat.
“I sure want to get to know her,” Bishop says loudly causing the girl to laugh freely.
“No, you don’t know me, Beast. My name is Allegra. Severu said you’d be coming,” she replies, putting the butt of her cigarette out with the toe of her high-heeled stiletto.
“And you’ve been waiting in the dark alley?” I ask a little pissed off.
She is pretty but I can’t be sure she’s even old enough to vote. Her face holds an innocence I haven’t seen in a long time, but her eyes have darkness in them. She is so young that I’m wondering what the hell she’s doing here and how she knows Severu. They pride themselves on not forcing women to work for them, that every woman who works for them is there by choice. But this girl has me doubting that creed.
“I run Nocturn,” Allegra supplies. “I saw you pull up on the CCTV and I wanted a smoke anyway. Besides, I didn’t know Severu had friends, so I had to meet you.”
“I could be anyone for all you know. What you did is dangerous,” I chastise her thinking of my younger sister doing something stupid like this.
“Not really.” She smiles. “Severu said you would be the biggest black man I had ever seen, and he wasn’t wrong.”
At this Bishop barks out a laugh. To be fair, the girl is two heads shorter than me in her heels, if not more.
“So,” she hedges, “you’re here to take out the garbage.”
“Yeah.” I shake my head. This girl is something else. She would get along great with any of the women at the clubhouse. “Where is it?”
She points down the shadow-filled alley before walking back to the door on the side of the building. I watch Bishop watch her petite ass swing as she walks, almost drooling.
“Don’t feel too bad for him,” she calls out. “He deserved what he got.”
And with those parting words, she closes the door and disappears, leaving me with a million questions.
“We need to come back here when we’re done with this errand,” Bishop says as he falls into step beside me. “I need to spend some time getting to know Allegra.”
“If she runs Nocturn, she is under the protection of the Camarreri family,” I explain. Bishop is still new to this area and may not know this.
“I know. But I’m also sure that woman might be worth going to war over.”
Chapter Two
Unforeseen Situation
Irene
Someone looking at this situation from the outside might find it ironic. I’m sitting on my kitchen floor mentally scolding myself at the fucking stupidity that led me to this fucked-up situation. I work at a women’s shelter for God’s sake. I know the signs of abuse. I know what to look for. And I definitely fucking know what triggers abusive men.
Yet here I am. Leaning with my back against the silver double-door fridge/freezer combo, holding a bag of frozen peas to my quickly swelling eye. I’m not some damsel in distress but my options are limited. I can call my older brother Laine and within ten minutes my big brother will be here to help me pack my shit, kick the ever-loving hell out of Gerald, and all my problems will be solved.
That is, until they aren’t. Because Gerald is a cop and a prick, and his ego would never be able to handle Laine beating him up. He would have my brother arrested and then he would probably have the entire police force of Louisiana so far up my ass I’d never be able to shit again. So, I won’t be calling my brother. I’ll handle this shit myself.
“Will you stop sulking?” Gerald asks as he sneers at me. “I didn’t even hit you that hard.”
Removing the peas, I glare at him with my good eye, the one that isn’t currently swollen shut. I try to see him the way I did in the beginning. He really is a disgustingly handsome motherfucker. Dark hair and the most vivid blue eyes I have ever seen. He has a smile that belongs in a toothpaste ad, and he keeps his body in peak condition.
I can see why I fell for him. I remember his charming personality and the way he used to make me feel, not to mention how great his ass looks in his dress blues. But all of that is gone now, lost to the fact that this prick put his fucking hands on me.
“I think you hit me hard enough,” I reply dryly.
“If you had listened in the first place, I never would have laid hands on you.” He stalks closer, anger still visible in every line of his body. “But you never listen. You think you can just do whatever you want, and the rest of the world will fall into step with you. But this is my house, and you will fall in line, or I’ll make you.”
Anger surges through me at his words.Hishouse? My name is on the fucking lease. I decorated this place, and most of the fucking furniture is mine. I know the next words out of my mouth will probably set him off again and he’s bound to go into another fit of rage. I could really end up hurt worse, but I’ve never been known to keep my mouth shut.
