Royal Bully Page 4

  “And then what?”

  “And then we try to stay alive.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Life, death, love, the only things you can count on… So… are you in?”

  The question buzzed in my head.

  And I knew it was one of those moments I would look back on and see myself standing in the middle of the road. One path led to a boring life married to an equally boring person, living in the suburbs and making pot roast. Maybe to some people that sounded great.

  But to the left? I saw nothing but him.

  Adventure.

  Danger.

  I could taste it in the air.

  With a jerk, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a damning, beautiful kiss.

  “Does that answer your question?” I rasped against his lips.

  “You may have to do it again,” He pulled his shirt over his head, then followed with mine, “And again,” He was on his knees in front of me, tugging my skinny jeans down, gripping my thighs with both hands, sliding those rough hands down my skin. I had a moment of thanks that I’d shaved my legs the night before. A shiver wracked my body as his hands reached my ankles, my flip flops went flying, my jeans met a similar fate. And he stayed there just like that like he was seconds away from either worshipping me with his mouth or proposing.

  I wasn’t sure which was more terrifying.

  Blue eyes flashed, Asher’s smile was equal parts intense and sexy, I wasn’t sure a girl could ever truly get used to being looked at that way. I couldn’t stop shaking, and he’d already seen me naked.

  He reached behind him and pulled out a small knife.

  I didn’t back up even though my heart told me to run.

  He slid the knife across his palm and then held it out to me, still on his knees. Trembling, I held out my hand face up.

  The cut was fast.

  Painful.

  The burn was almost erotic as he used that same knife, sliding it up my thigh until it came into contact with my thong. The sound of fabric cutting had me squeezing my eyes shut as the flimsy piece of material landed somewhere near my feet.

  Blood dripped from his palm onto mine.

  I shuddered as the pain dulled like a pulsing heat between us.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  With each drip onto my hand, I felt a high, like my body couldn’t help but be tied to his in this supernatural and oddly holy way.

  Slowly he stood to his feet, I swayed toward him as he pressed the knife between my breasts and with one jerk, my bra was cut in half. He moved the blade to the straps, I flinched with each tear.

  And stared down at my discarded clothes.

  The knife joined my clothes.

  And then he pressed his palm to mine. I let out a cry of pain at his touch, the stinging was back, his mouth was hot and heavy on the back of my neck as he moved my hair to the side with his free hand.

  Our fingers tangled as blood pulsed between our palms.

  And then he flipped me around, his mouth hot on mine, his lips parted, tongue on tongue, fighting for dominance. He braced me against the kitchen wall, his bloody palm pressed against my heart as he lifted me with his free arm, I could feel his heartbeat through the wound.

  “Look at me.” He breathed. “Look at us.”

  I opened my eyes and stared between our bodies; a bloody handprint was pressed over my heart. “Blood in. No out,” he whispered.

  “Blood in.” My voice shook. “No out.” And then I unbuttoned his jeans sliding them down his legs with my foot.

  “Clever.”

  “Just trying to be useful.” I kissed him again, forgetting that this wasn’t just a one-night stand, sex, or even a two-night stand.

  He was making me a promise.

  And I was agreeing to it.

  To everything.

  No regrets.

  “You’re mine.” He said through clenched teeth as he pressed punishing kiss after punishing kiss against my mouth.

  I moved with him, gripping him in my hand. “Yours. Yes. Yes.”

  He gritted his teeth then thrust into me. No warning, no hesitation.

  I sucked in a sharp breath as our bloody palms met and pressed into each other, as he anchored them against the wall along with my body. Moving inside me, claiming me in a way I would never come back from.

  “It should always, always be like this.” He vowed.

  I let out a whimper.

  “Don’t hold back. Not from me.” His lips were on my ear, then my neck, waves of pleasure pounded into me until all I saw were ocean blue eyes and full wicked lips.

  Body shaking, I couldn’t hold out any longer, maybe he could sense it, maybe he was just as close, with a growl he cried out my name.

  My head fell back against the wall.

  “Look,” His voice was hoarse. “Look at us…”

  I turned to where he was looking, and next to my head, were two bloody handprints in the shape of a heart.

  “Blood in. No out.” He whispered again. “Get ready for one hell of a ride, Claire.”

  “Didn’t we just do that.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I chose well.”

  “What? You were doing background checks for two months or something?”

  He just shrugged, then said. “I’m his favorite nephew.”

  “What?”

  “You really don’t remember?”

  He was still inside me, and we were having a perfectly normal conversation what was wrong with us?

  “High School Graduation, I was in the third row, you wore pink. I asked Nikolai who you were, and he said over his dead body. I just assumed he was being an ass, had no idea it was actually because you were his niece. But he noticed… and yet here we are… nobody is sent to Eagle Elite by accident. They’re chosen…” With that, he pulled away and held out his bloody hand. “Ready for an adventure?”

  “Wait, you planned this?”

  He pulled me against his chest. “Like I said, when you know, you know.” He winked. “I just didn’t want to pressure you into anything, and then I walked by your room and…”

  I felt my face flush.

  He grinned. “I’m an Abandonato. I get what I want.”

  “Arrogant.”

  “That too. Both start with A so…”

  I smacked him on the chest. “This should be creepy.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the mafia. We don’t do creepy, we do scary as fuck, and for the record, I’m not letting you go.”

  “Do you see me running?”

  He sighed; it was the first time I felt this guard slip. “No, but you should.”

  “How about we have more vodka…”

  “Cheers to Russia.” He grinned.

  I smiled back and realized that this was where I belonged, where I would always belong, apparently—in my enemy’s arms.

  Chapter Four

  Asher

  I chose my words carefully with Claire. I made her think it was more adventure less killing, but the truth was that we’d been in a war for years, one that none of us knew how to navigate.

  And it wasn’t one that made sense.

  Because it was a war within our Family.

  When the uncles started popping out kids, they suddenly realized they had the money and the power to send their kids anywhere, some of the kids studied abroad, some didn’t come back, they didn’t want anything to do with this life. And that was the problem, they were already a part of it, and we weren’t allowed loose ends, and in the fucking end, we weren’t really allowed a choice. Yes, you can study in Spain, but you sure as hell better come back here and join the fold. Because if you didn’t, you were considered a loose end, and it didn’t matter whose kid you were, a loose end was dangerous. Too dangerous to live.

  I clung to Claire as she slept in my arms, and then kissed her forehead and slowly crawled out of bed. I made my way downstairs and wasn’t at all surprised to see my dad sitting on the couch, knife in one hand, gun in the other.

  With a sigh, I moved to stand in front of him. “Do I want to know?”

  “I don’t even want to know.” He rasped, and then looked up at me. “I would have killed every fucking person in this godforsaken world to get you free of this life, but of course, I was cursed with a younger version of myself, wasn’t I?”

  I smirked. “Did you just call your favorite child a curse?”

  He groaned. “Did you just call yourself favorite?”

  “I won’t tell the others.” I uncrossed my arms and then moved to sit next to him on the couch. He had at least twenty pounds of muscle on me, and I was still a big guy, but my dad had learned a long time ago the only way for him to fight his demons was to literally beat the shit out of a punching bag and lift so many weights that he could compete and win against most guys his size. “Why are you really here?”

  “I need my best,” he said with a hint of sadness. “And the others don’t have the stomach for it yet since you and I made a pact to protect them as much as possible.”

  I sighed as heaviness washed over me. “Junior already down there?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t look at me. “His intel’s right, it’s always right, the little shit lives and breathes for his intel.”

  “I’m not the only apple who fell directly off the tree into madness.” I agreed. “Can Vic watch the house while I go in?”

  “Already on it.” My dad waved a hand behind him as Vic made his way stealthily into the living room, gun raised. “Give us a few minutes, Vic, try not to scare the shit out of Claire if she wakes up.”

  Vic rolled his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Well—” I held out my hand while my dad put the knife in my palm. “—let’s get this ov
er with.”

  My dad snorted. “Yeah, yeah, you have fun, remember, I didn’t see anything… I’m clean now that I’m in politics.”

  Vic burst out laughing behind us.

  It was rare to hear him laugh.

  Then again, that was fucking hilarious.

  I gave my dad a yeah right look and then grabbed the gun from him as well. “Go back to bed, hug Ma, you know I’ve got this.”

  My dad put his hand on my shoulder and then gripped it, pulling me in for a tight hug. “I’m proud of you.”

  My throat almost closed up. All I’d ever wanted was to be him, and all he’d ever wanted was for me to run away.

  We don’t always get what we want.

  But I did, in this life, I did. Because when I looked in the mirror, I saw him, and I was proud to be his son.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I hugged him back. “I’ll be quick, you know how it is when you have a naked woman waiting for—”

  He slapped the back of my head.

  I laughed and then winked at his amused expression.

  With a sigh I walked around the house, the suits all gave me a wide berth, they knew what I looked like when I was given a job.

  Complete focus.

  Lethal.

  I made it to the side of the house, typed in the code for the metal door, and waited for it to click open.

  There were twenty-two stairs leading down to our dungeons.

  Really, they were just bulletproof, soundproof, rooms with drains for all the rivers of blood. It was like a playroom for assassins.

  My dad had taken me down there when I was eleven.

  And at twelve, he gave me a choice.

  Run or shoot.

  I didn’t run.

  “Junior.” I nodded to my cousin, who was flicking a knife with his fingertip and then Serena, who looked like she was just getting ready to sneak out to a club. “Serena.”

  “Stop looking at me like that, I’m wearing leather, hardly a crime.” She snorted.

  “You’re two years older than me and look like a prostitute.” I pointed out.

  Junior gulped and averted his eyes. When I looked closely, I could see the smudge of lipstick on his neck.

  Interesting.

  Junior never looked unsettled. He and Serena were the oldest, which meant I looked to them for calm, and right now, they looked caught.

  Ignoring it for now, I peeled off my t-shirt and handed it to her. “Even so, put this on before Uncle Nixon comes down here to murder Junior and me for having eyes, all right?”

  “Gross.” She shuddered like we both didn’t give orgasms with one wink, and put on the t-shirt. Junior sighed like he was relieved, and I didn’t miss the way his jaw tensed when his eyes flickered back to mine.

  Well shit. Didn’t see that coming.

  We would have words about this later.

  Because that was the one rule our uncles gave us growing up.

  Fight, kill, bleed, destroy—but never, ever, look at any of the uncles’ kids in any way other than like your own brother or sister.

  The penalty was death.

  And they were fucking serious.

  I knew because I’d killed a cousin for it, at sixteen. He’d been obsessed with Violet, and she’d actually really liked him. Sergio found them together, and the rest was history. He’d been one of Axel’s oldest. I was still traumatized over it. It’s like his kids just didn’t get why they had to become a part of this family.

  “Let’s go.” I tossed the knife in the air and walked into the first room. He was tied to a chair. Axel Abandonato’s youngest son.

  He was eighteen.

  He wanted to be a doctor.

  But the Capo, Tex, needed him to at least be made before he was allowed to become a doctor, and if he did, he worked for the Family, for whenever we needed him, the point he had to be on our fucking payroll. Titan had been less than thrilled about that, then again, he still thought he had a choice when the only choice we had was in what way we served the Family. And running wasn’t an option because running only meant they were giving you a head start before you got a bullet in your head.

  “Hey, man.” I walked in and clicked the door shut behind me, Serena and Junior watched from the monitor outside.

  “Fuck. You.” Titan spat onto the floor a mixture of blood and spit, he looked a lot like me, only he was younger and seriously drove me nuts, he didn’t want this life, he wanted out.

  Well, there was only one way out.

  I stared him down. “This is what you want? Really?”

  He glared. “Is there any other option?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Just make it look real,” he grumbled. “And hopefully, I’ll pass out sooner rather than later from blood loss.”

  I cursed. “Titan, you could just do a few jobs here and there, go to school, and then report back, it doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

  “I want to save lives, not take them.” His stupid ass answer.

  “Great, so now I get to rough up my own flesh and blood all because you think you’re better than this?” I spread my arms wide. “None of us are better than this, this is your blood, Titan, your life. Once this is done, you’re out of this Family, forever. You get that, right? And not because we shun you, but because you fucking die!”

  I wasn’t sure why I was trying to change his mind.

  Maybe because he thought he’d be free.

  Maybe because he believed the lie that we told the kids—that if they wanted out, all they had to do was deal with me. But he knew better. He was my friend. He fucking knew! I could see it in the way he refused to look at me. His eyes were glassy. He was done. And he’d decided.

  Titan shrugged and looked forward. “I hate this family. The death. The blood. I want out.”

  Maybe I had an ounce of kindness left in me because I didn’t shoot him in the head first. I shot him in both legs, then I shoot into his right bicep, so his arm dangled at his side. He screamed out in pain.

  And then I unleashed my knife stabbing him in the back over and over again, nothing deep, it would burn like hell, and it would triple his blood loss.

  His head fell forward. “Still want out?”

  “Go to hell!” he roared.

  “See you there,” I answered, emptying my gun into his chest.

  I looked away as the last bit of life left his body.

  And started to shake when Junior walked in and handed me the Bible. Serena’s demeanor was calm as she recited our family Oath over him and blessed him as his soul left this earth.

  “Blood in. No out.” She whispered.

  “Blood in.” We repeated. “No out.”

  Chapter Five

  Claire

  He was quiet, maybe he wasn’t trying to wake me, or maybe he was just naturally that quiet, maybe he had to be because of who he was, what he did. I watched as he walked into the master bedroom and then moved into the bathroom. The door was open enough for me to see a reflection of him in the mirror.

  I covered my mouth in horror as he turned on the water.

  Blood was everywhere.

  Splatters of it on his cheeks.

  More down his arms.

  He peeled his shirt from his body.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, the guy had such a sexy body that it was distracting, which I needed, I needed a distraction.

  Blood.

  I almost gagged when he started washing his hands, staining the porcelain sink. Is this what I’d just agreed to?

  He’d made it sound… adventurous, dangerous, but so normal.

  But I hadn’t seen death, had I?

  Death to him was normal.

  Washing blood off his hands was just another Tuesday.

  My body started to shake as he continued to wash his hands. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me?

  I quietly got out of bed and moved toward the bathroom, leaning against the wall, so I could watch. Maybe if I just watched longer I would stop shaking, it would seem normal.

  It looked like food coloring.

  His blue eyes slowly lifted, locking with mine in the reflection of the mirror.

  “I heard a noise,” I whispered in a hoarse voice.

  His eyes looked wild.

  I’d never seen that look on another human before.

  I started to back up as he slowly turned off the water and then turned, making his way for me. I made it maybe a foot, before his wet hands were on my shirt, touching my skin.