“It’s because of that silly blond waitress, isn’t it?” she speculated with a hiss. “I should’ve known that little cunt was going to be a problem the minute you paraded her around in my face at the fights.”
The fuck?
“Leave Otelia out of this, Bella. She has nothing to do with why I have no desire to ever be with you again. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”
“I won’t let her come between us, Darragh. Not after everything I’ve done to…”
She pressed her lips together and lunged at me. Arms flailing, she jumped up, locked her legs around my waist, tightened her grip around my neck, and held on through my attempts to dislodge her. She mewled, sliding her pussy up and down my flaccid cock in an attempt to get herself off and arouse me at the same time. I tried to unhook her without breaking her fucking arms only to lose my balance and send us both tumbling towards the desk. Bella held on tighter. Her lips peppered kisses along my neck, her tongue snaked out and left a trail along my Adams apple. Before I could right us to a standing position, the door to my office swung open and time seemed to stop.
“Mac, I think we should …” Fucking hell.
Otelia’s eyes took in the scene, which I was sure looked far worse than what was really happening. Bella with her legs wrapped around me damn near butt naked, the two of us leaning over my desk in a passionate embrace, the smears of red lipstick I was sure had stained my collar, the entire fucked-up situation. It was enough to make me want to blow a hole in Bella and spatter her guts along my ceiling for being bold enough to pull this shit.
“Otelia…” I managed to forcibly remove Bella’s arms from around my neck. “It’s not—”
“Mac…don’t…” she ordered with a stiff hand.
I studied her face hoping like hell she could see the truth in my rigid posture and lack of bulge in my pants. She closed her eyes tightly to steady her breathing, one deep inhale through her nose, then she opened them. Raw pain clouded her beautiful blue eyes. I felt her anguish as deeply as an open wound to the chest. I reached out to touch her, to pull her into my arms where she belonged, and not the skank still holding on to my lapel.
“Otelia…” I tried again.
“It’s okay, Mac.” She smiled wide, forced, with both rows of teeth. “This was without a doubt…a marvelous adventure that I’ll never forget.”
A strange statement.
The depth of its sadness nearly broke me.
She turned and left without a backwards glance, taking my blackened heart with her. I needed to follow her, bring her back to me and explain, make her understand. Bella’s incessant laughter sparked a wave of fury so potent, my hands shook as I fought against the impulse to strangle her to death and toss her body into a woodchipper. She’d pay for this, some way, I’d make sure of it.
“Get your clothes on and get the fuck out.” I moved towards to door only to be stopped by her last-ditch effort to shake me.
“I won’t let her come between us, Darragh. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” She picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head, still smirking. “I need to go play the part of grieving widow now, but I’ll see you soon, my sweet. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
More threats.
Splendid.
“My time is valuable, Bella. I won’t waste it attending a funeral for a woman I once considered more than a friend. Go near Otelia, and I promise you, they’ll have to bury a set of Michelin tires inside your coffin instead of a body.”
I walked out and slammed the door behind me.
There was only one woman on my mind, the only one I cared about.
CHAPTER 38
Otelia
HOW DO YOU hide from a crime boss with unlimited connections? You don’t, that’s how, and why should I? We’d made no promises to each other, no commitments. I’d held up my end by helping with the average Joe fights. The night was a success. I call that square. I kept my pride in tact as much as I could, didn’t cause a scene or demand an explanation. Like a coward, I fled. So why, after two days holed up inside my house, did I still feel like I was somehow in the wrong?
It didn’t help knowing that there was a parked car outside watching my every move. I’d noticed its arrival within fifteen minutes of returning from the warehouse. I was incensed. I stormed right out the front door and confronted the asshole in a pair of Blue’s Clues slippers Maribel had given me last Christmas. I banged on the driver’s side window expecting him to try and weasel his way out of being caught; instead, he admitted to being assigned as lookout per Darragh MacCabe.
I told him to leave, he refused.
I ordered him to eat shit, he laughed.
I called him an asshole, he agreed.
After all the back and forth, I ended up bringing him a sandwich and a copy of one of my romance novels I kept on the nightstand. It wasn’t his fault he worked for a prick with an ego the size of Manhattan, which I ended up telling him when I dropped off the items. He’d concurred with my assessment and we’d left it at that.
My thoughts flashed back to that awkward scene, Mac on top of Bella, knee-deep in the throngs of pre-coitus bliss. I couldn’t get it out of my head. What shocked me the most was how right they looked together. Dark features, expensive clothes, plucked and prodded to perfection. Meanwhile, I was over here like, ‘Ooh, look at me in my charity dress, jeweled butt plug, and rented formal gratuity shoes.’ Some choices were easier made than others, but I couldn’t blame him. He was never going to pick me. I knew there was a possibility that the two of them would end up back together, promised love and all that, but the reality still hurt like a bitch. Guess that’s why I also hadn’t seen hide nor hair from Mac since I left two nights ago.
I wished them all the luck.
Not.
I finished off the last of the ice cream Mac had bought over, not even a little embarrassed by the empty containers littering my coffee table. A ridiculous romantic comedy I wasn’t really watching played in the background while I stuffed myself to the brim. The broadcast was interrupted by three high-pitched beeps just before the boob tube went black. I watched as the breaking news scrolled along the bottom of the screen:
Prominent business man Kallum O’Brien, shot to death near his home in the upscale community of Heflin Heights on Saturday night. Anyone with information regarding the crime is encouraged to contact the police immediately. A reward of fifty thousand dollars is being offered for any details leading to an arrest.
Holy fucknuts.
All the sugary ice cream I’d just consumed threatened to make a reappearance as my stomach retched in disbelief. Mac wouldn’t have…
I would kill before I let anything or anyone hurt you again.
I shook the sickening thought from my head.
Mac was clear about the way things were done in the mob. He didn’t have the power to eliminate a boss, or else he would’ve done it the minute O’Brien made his move. Besides, my life wasn’t a good enough reason to throw it all away. I was a means to an end, nothing more.
An image of Kellan O’Brien flashed in my mind as I remembered how he spoke to me about love conquering all. I’d been afraid and angry at the time, but I believed he’d meant every word. He’d had no reason to lie to a stranger. The man was an asshole who’d wanted me dead, but to actually have the tables turned? That was just wrong on so many levels. No one deserved to be murdered in cold blood, not even a mob boss with questionable business ethics. I waited for the feeling of relief to engulf me, but it never came. I was free, yet I grieved the loss of another person in this world denied a long life with the woman who owned his soul. It’s no wonder I hadn’t heard from Mac in the last two days. He was probably…