“Everything’s fine now. No need to worry about me.”
“You’re family,” Mecken growled. “We take care of our own, Odie. You belong with us at the yard, where we can keep you safe, shielded from pricks like him.”
“Touch her and you die, motherfucker,” I challenged. “She stays with me.”
“Seems you got your dirty little hands full seeing as you’re staving off an underground turf war and all, MacCabe,” the big one, Range, chimed in. “Don’t need an innocent woman caught in the middle of your bullshit mob feud. Not for nothing, but the next time you decide to have a shootout,”—he leaned in, chest puffed, eyes sharp—“learn how to fucking shoot.”
“You want to test my skills, bitch? You die first, get it?” I attempted to raise my gun hand but was stopped short by Otelia’s insistence.
“I appreciate you all coming to my rescue, but as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. Please don’t tell Maribel, Marcus, she’ll only worry needlessly. I’ll call Nipsy tomorrow and explain everything so he doesn’t flip out more than usual.”
Uncertainty masked the four men’s wrathful faces. They weren’t ready to give up so easily. That would’ve meant admitting defeat, when the only thing these morons knew was winning, a noble trait they’d learned from Buck Calhoun. Marcus took a deep breath and approached Otelia. He towered over her, dark and menacing. My finger twitched on the trigger ready to blast this cunt if he so much as reached for his balls.
“You don’t have to be his prisoner anymore, Odie. Come to the junkyard with us, where you belong, where you’d be safe. It’s the simplest thing in the world. Just walk away.”
My heart thumped wildly inside my chest at the thought of losing her. If she was smart, she’d put me in her rearview and never look back. I wasn’t a catch. Being with me could mean a death sentence if O’Brien had his way. I prepared myself for the inevitable decision. Just like Bella.
Otelia dipped her head and stared at the ground for a moment.
Then she moved with steady purpose.
At my side she stood, shoulder to shoulder. Bold as shit, unapologetic, chin held high.
“I’m staying with Mac,” she announced, eyes on me. “He’s all the protection I need.”
The junkyard fucks dispersed without fanfare, no opposition, no threats, not a single bullet fired. I wanted to beat on my chest and howl at the moon. Otelia chose me.
I stared into her pretty face with utter certainty that she was mine. The one and only time I’d opened my heart and loved a woman unconditionally, she chose power.
Otelia chose me.
For her, I was enough.
CHAPTER 34
Otelia
THE SECOND WE hit the penthouse, Mac pushed me up against the wall, lifted the skirt of my uniform, ripped off my thong, and fucked me senseless without delay. He did it brutally, savagely, and with the detached feeling of a man possessed.
Perhaps it was all of that pent-up testosterone and bloodlust that drove him to lose control. He growled and grunted with abandon, marked and claimed, pushed me to the edge until I begged him to let me fall over. It felt amazingly liberating in the wake of all the violence we’d endured. My fear evaporated with every powerful thrust inside my soaking-wet pussy. I needed those flashes of unrestrained freedom as much as he did, maybe more so. It didn’t matter that he’d lied to my face about going home; I was right where I wanted to be, in his arms.
Afterward, he took me to his bed, where he held me close, spooning me, as if I were precious to him in some way. That was the last thing I remembered before sleep pulled me under.
I awoke alone surrounded by cold sheets and the distinct smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from somewhere nearby. Figured Mac was an early riser, whereas I preferred to sleep in as long as possible, beauty rest and all that. I eased from the mattress and stretched my arms to the heavens. My deliciously sore limbs protested against the slightest of movements, courtesy of ducking bullets and hardcore fucking. I covered my mouth to stifle a yawn, noticing for the first time that my cell phone sat languidly atop the nightstand. Gates.
There hadn’t been a single day since his death that didn’t start without my need to replay his saved message. It was my weighted blanket during a thunderstorm, my fluffy teddy bear when I needed a friend, and my kick in the ass when all I wanted to do was quit. I knew in my heart it was time. Time to let him go and live without using his promise as a crutch instead of what it was meant to be.
The dearest of wishes.
A dying wish.
Gates knew he wouldn’t be alive to see it through, but he’d wanted to leave me with one final gift, one I’d recklessly used without forethought. Love wasn’t something you searched for until you found it. If it was meant to be, love would find you. For years, I’d dated the wrong men, stuck around far too long when I should’ve been a ghost, gave away my heart and body even though they never deserved it. I’d dishonored his memory with my recklessness, but no more. I wasn’t ready to admit that Mac and I were headed in the love direction, but something had definitely changed between us.
Immersed between kidnap victim and cherished lover lay the crux of our relationship. What I would admit to was wanting more. It’d been so long since I’d felt safe in a man’s arms, and one thing was for sure: I was safe with Mac. Gates would always hold a special place in my soul, along with the beloved child we’d both lost. As I looked over to my cell, I closed my eyes for a moment and thanked him. Thanked him for always being what I needed.
I laid my hand over the plastic cover and whispered, “I love you, Gates. Always.”
It was my tribute.
My final goodbye.
Bright light streaming through the window reminded me it was time to get my ass moving. This was my first occasion in Mac’s personal space, or more specifically, his rented hotel suite. It was typical, of course, functional without a hint of warmth, nonemotionally decorated, a temporary dwelling fit for a king. It revealed nothing about the man, his likes and dislikes, any small peek inside the ruthless mobster to help me gain a better understanding. I padded along the plush carpet with bare feet to his open closet filled with expensive suits, matching ties, and patent leather shoes. I grabbed a silk robe dangling from one of the hangers and threw it on. The soft material swallowed my small frame and dragged along the floor, but I needed coffee. To hell with how I looked. I crept outside determined to get my hands on the liquid gold and startled.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Ferdi sat lazily on the sofa with a knowing smirk on his face. I hastily gathered the front of the robe before exposing my naked tits to the overgrown behemoth. Dressed in black from head to toe, gun strapped at his side, he reminded me of a character from a GI Joe movie.
“Coffee?” he offered with a chin lift.
“Good morning to you too, Ferdi.” I went for the carafe. “Where’s Mac?”
“Oh…he’ll be along any minute.” He grinned. “Had some business to take care of, asked me to watch out for his girl until he returned.”
His girl?
I liked the sound of that.
“Is that usual? Going out to handle business alone without…backup?” I asked.