“Sorry to bother you, Mr. MacCabe, but there’s a woman down in the lobby demanding to see you. She seems…overwrought.” I could hear shouting the background but couldn’t make out what they were saying. “We tried to send her away, but she won’t take no for an answer. Would you like us to call the authorities?” the hotel manager asked.
“No, I’ll be right down.”
I could’ve sent one of the boys, but I decided to handle it myself. My whereabouts weren’t a secret, but I also didn’t go around advertising that shit either. It’s why I never brought women here when I wanted to fuck, too messy once the deed was done. Whoever it was had a lot of fucking explaining to do, summoning me like I was hired help.
I could hear screaming before the damn elevator doors opened. I rounded the corner, pissed as all get out, and froze in my tracks.
“You get his ass down here right fucking now, asshole.”
The fuck?
“Otelia? What happened?”
The first thing I noticed were her beautiful blue eyes. They were big as saucers, manic, and unfocused. The swelling and redness, an indication she had been crying, pupils blown to hell. The woman I knew didn’t fucking cry; she was fearless in the face of any obstacle. I reached her in two long strides. My arms encircled her waist, holding her steady. Sweet Jesus, she was fucking barefoot on the cold-ass floor. Where the hell were her shoes? Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably, and that’s when I noticed the blood stain on her tiny little T-shirt.
“Are you injured?” I shouted. “Are you hurt?”
I gave her arms a shake, just enough to grab her attention. There were no outward signs of gun powder from a bullet hole, no stab wounds, but I had to be sure.
“You tell them, Mac. Tell them I’m not part of the mob, tell them to leave me alone. I watched the Godfather movies—severed horse head, make him an offer he can’t refuse. I know what that means.”
Godfather movies?
The fuck was she talking about?
“Otelia, listen to me...” I tried to calm her down to no avail.
“No, Mac! They came to my house, put blood on my door, hung a dead fish outside,” she screeched, on the verge of hysteria. “You tell them, Mac. Please, you tell them it’s a mistake.”
“Okay, kitty cat, I’ll tell them.”
I guided her towards the elevators with one arm while reaching for my phone with the other. The last thing either of us needed was for that nosy-ass hotel manager to start running his mouth. I hit speed dial to get Ferdi on the line. He might have been pissed at me, but now wasn’t the time for our little misunderstanding. I gave him two clear instructions: Get to Otelia’s house and check it out. Meet me back at the penthouse expeditiously.
I needed answers, and I needed them fast.
Otelia settled worriedly into the crux of my arm by the time we made it to the top floor. The loss of adrenalin left her damn near impotent during the short distance, relying on my strength to carry us both. The whole while, my depraved mind kept thinking of the many ways to inflict harm on a person, to cause them absolute pain, to end their fucking lives. It didn’t matter that I was missing most of the facts or the full story. Otelia was convinced that whatever happened had something to do with me. It was why she’d sought me out, begged me to make it go away, and sat prostate on my leather sofa like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. I was her guy.
“It’s so fucking cold in here,” she remarked behind chattering teeth.
I poured her a shot of Jameson and grabbed a blanket from the spare bed. Otelia accepted my offerings woodenly and without so much as a glance in my direction. Her entire body sagged in defeat as she settled the fabric on her shoulders while holding the drink in a shaky hand. I was tempted to frame her pretty face between my palms and force her to look at me, to humble me with her beautiful eyes. Watching her fold into herself was wreaking havoc on my senses. I wanted to kill something with my bare hands, make a motherfucker beg for mercy before I snapped his neck. It took more effort than I realized to reel in my murderous thoughts so I could ask Otelia some questions. Someone’s life depended on her answers.
“Tell me what happened tonight.”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” she said on a tired exhale. “The junkyard probably would’ve been better with Maribel and Mar…”
“Meckan can protect his own woman,” I growled. “You let me worry about this. Now, answer my fucking question.” I tried in vain to keep my simmering anger in check.
“I’m so tired of waiting, Darragh,” she mumbled. “When is it going to be my turn?”
My brows pinched together. “Your turn for what? Tell me what happened.”
Otelia leaned sideways against the arm of the chair and tucked her legs beneath the warmth of her ass. I caught the glass of whisky slipping from her hand just before it hit the ground. Once her eyelids fluttered closed, I knew I wouldn’t get anything else from her tonight. I traced a finger down the curve of her soft cheek resting atop of her hand. One touch seized the air inside my lungs and sparked a tremor that started from my elbow and ended behind my knees. Such a delicate creature, strong-willed and smart, yet some asshole had felt the need to scare the shit out of her tonight. She thought Marcus Mecken was the better choice when it came to protecting her, having her back. It was time she learned what happens to pussies when they tried to cross a MacCabe.
CHAPTER 24
Otelia
I WOKE WITH a terrible sense of Groundhog Day.
The strange bed, the humongous room, fully clothed, beneath a warm duvet. My hair was a complete rat’s nest, my eyes were crusted over, and I sported a mean case of morning breath that honestly made me feel a little queasy. I might’ve been afraid if it weren’t for the raised voices I heard coming from the other room. I recognized them immediately as belonging to Mac and the big man I’d met the other night, Ferdi. I threw back the covers, ready to get up and face the day, when a two-ton weight fell from the sky and slammed right into chest.
Everything flashed back to me in a rush, the reason for my being here, the dead fish hanging from my front door, the blood, the fear. I’d returned to this place of horrors to get on Mac’s ass about the mob-type message left for me as some type of warning. Instead of justifiable anger, I’d felt a strong sense of relief when he met me in the lobby, that if this was his fault, he would somehow make it right. It was foolish and naïve, but who else could I turn to? I was on my own in most things, personal safety being one of them, but it would’ve been nice to have another person in my corner.
“I don’t give a fuck, Ferdi. We track his ass down. Tonight.” Mac’s harsh voice was like an anvil inside my head. He really should consider soundproofing this room if he didn’t want me to eavesdrop.
“If we show up to that location, it could start a war, one we can’t win. He has the force of the organization behind him, the manpower, and the guns. We don’t stand a chance unless…”
“Unless what?” Mac growled.
“We call in your father for reinforcements.”
A loud crash echoed through the room, the sound of something heavy being pushed around and eventually knocked over. I silently tiptoed over to the door still wearing my pajamas and pressed an ear to the frame. Strange. It was relatively quiet considering all the hubbub a second ago. I wasn’t sure if this was a good time for me to stick my head out and yell, “Good morning. What’s for breakfast?” Fuck it, I decided to take a chance.