Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“I can tell you that he’s trusted. I don’t know the details of his jobs, but they’re important. He’s been working his way up the ranks with the help of his father for years, and lately he broke into the big time. I don’t know how or why or what he did, but he’s marked.”
“Marked? What’s that mean?”
“Sort of like the Italians and their Made Men, but different. Luke’s got his mark. That means he’s one of us.”
My heart sinks into the floor. I lift my wine and finish the rest of the glass. I watch some of the remaining liquid seep down the side, pooling at the bottom, my guts churning. My shoulders feel heavy.
“I remember when he was little. He used to get in so much trouble. God, but Dad never punished him the way I got punished. I thought it was unfair, but then I realized something. Dad expected things of him in ways he never expected them from me, and that was liberating. I knew Luke would have a harder time of it, especially as we got older. Maybe not with the rules… but the other stuff. The business stuff.”
“Family is complicated,” Liam says, watching me carefully, his attention warm across my chest. Or maybe that’s the wine.
“Mine worse than most. I told myself I could help Luke, keep him out of the darkness, maybe save him, you know? But now I realize I’ve been kidding myself.”
“He’s not your responsibility.”
“But he is though? I mean, he’s my brother, that’s how it works. And Luke’s so kind, he’s the gentlest person I’ve ever met, which is why the thought of him selling guns is striking.”
“That’s not the image you have of it.”
“Right, and it hurts, you know?”
Liam grunts and brushes his fingers against my hand. “It’s hard when your idea of a person gets ripped to pieces. You have to rebuild it, and the rebuild is never good.”
“That’s exactly how it feels. Like Luke’s been torn up.” I lean back, breath leaving me in a rush. Why am I opening up to Liam right now? And why does it feel like he’s really listening and understands me? “I don’t know. It’s dumb, the whole thing’s dumb.”
“I’m sorry, love. I know me being here and telling you these things doesn’t help.”
“I need to hear it though.”
“Maybe.” He swirls his glass and sips. “Want another?”
“I should get home before Dad notices I’m missing.”
“He’s keeping tabs on you now?”
“I think he’s making sure I don’t try to escape before the wedding.”
“Smart man.”
“Exactly. Who could blame me if I tried to run from you?” I flash him a quick smile and he returns it. But the light moment passes. “Do me a favor. I want you to watch out for Luke.”
“Ah, Regan, I don’t know—“
“Please. I’m not asking you to be his guardian angel. You don’t need to follow him around. But try to nudge him out of trouble if you can. You have sway, don’t you? I mean, that’s why you’re marrying me?”
“Look at you, all full of yourself.”
“Tell me it’s not true.”
“I’m not a savior.” He finishes his drink and slides it carefully from him. “That’s not my skillset. I’m more of a killer.”
I run my fingers over the bar top wood. It’s wet and cold and I try not to look at my future husband. The killer I’m going to marry. Fear threatens at the edges of my mind and I push it back hard. “Try anyway?”
“Stop asking me to help people.” Liam gets up and tosses some cash beside his glass, more than enough for both our drinks and a healthy tip. “I’ll do what I can. Alright? But no more.”
“Consider it a wedding present for me.”
He touches my hair, brushes it from my neck. His fingers graze my skin and I lean toward him unconsciously. “A better man could offer more.”
I watch him walk away, not sure what the hell he means, but too twisted up in my own problems to think too much about it.
CHAPTER 12
LIAM
As I lean my shoulder against the door and quietly turn the knob, I think about what my pretty wife’s going to look like on our wedding day.
Auburn hair spilling down her shoulders. Or maybe twisted into some complicated braid on her head. White dress hugging her curves. Will she go traditional and conservative? Or maybe piss her father off and flaunt her lovely figure?
I slip my lockpicks back into my pocket and listen quietly in the dim apartment’s foyer for several long seconds.
How will I kiss her when the priest says the words? Should I make it quick and chaste? Or deep and lovely, let her know that she’s mine? Make her knees quake?
And the wedding night itself…
I know what she’ll say. Oh Liam, this is just a business arrangement between our families, I couldn’t possibly suck your throbbing cock and ride you until I scream myself into oblivion! Something like that, anyway.