I never renege on a promise. In my business, when I give my word, it's a fucking guarantee. My honor. My integrity. My code.

But with Molly, hell the fuck yes I can change my mind. I've got to put a stop to this bullshit. To the two tipsy girls wanting to drag her away. Oblivious to the torture they are causing me. Laughing it up in my living room. Flirting with Ty and fawning over Eli. Both of my brothers lapping up the attention like caged dogs finally let free.

Pushing deeper between her spread thighs, I nuzzle the sweet spot on the side of her dainty throat while I slide her present out of my pocket. "Happy birthday, angel."

I drape the sparkling bracelet around her slender wrist, clasping the platinum lock before kissing the delicate skin over her pulse point. Not the ring I want to give her, but that will come. Very soon. Just like the two of us.

But, tonight this jewelry will have to suffice. Serving to ensure her tracker is in place. Reminding her of who she belongs to. And warning any bastard who tries to get too close that's she's taken. Draped in eight hundred grand worth of black and white diamonds, baby girl's off limits to any motherfucking asshole dumb enough to try and get through Boz and Duncan. As well as the other guards she doesn't know I've inundated my club with to watch over her.

"Oh, Luciano. Thank you! I love it!"

I love you too. And, I'm going to fucking do so much better job of showing you. "Good."

She lifts her trembling hand to examine the stones closer before meeting my gaze. "But, they - they're not real, are they?"

A smirk twists my smile. I love watching her squirm. "Fuck yeah, all almost one million dollars of them."

Scarlet burns her cheeks, and her head twists furiously. Huge blue eyes flick back and forth between me and the cause of her angst before she starts to slide my gift off her arm. "It's too much. I mean it's so beautiful, but you shouldn't have spent so much."

For some reason that pisses me off. She deserves this, and so much more, and I'm going to fucking love giving her the whole fucking world. "I do whatever the fuck I want, and if that means I give you something almost as beautiful as you are, then I will."

A shaky breath blows out of her pink lips, and the smile returns full force. Ignoring my bastard tone. Tolerating the possessiveness only she stirs in me. "Okay. Thank you."

She leans into my knuckles stroking her soft cheek. Reminding myself for the need to be gentle with her. Wives belong on pedestals, not their knees. Except in the bedroom when my cock's involved, of course. "You're welcome."

Loathe to lose her touch, but I have one more surprise. This one both of us will enjoy.

After grabbing two small tumblers, I pour a few ounces of my favorite whiskey into each glass. My mind still fucking blown that she's never had a drop of alcohol until now. Her twenty-first birthday. But I'm for damn sure going to be the first and only man to give her a taste. "Cheers."

I tap my cup against the rim of hers, wrapped in her small hands. Uncertainty furrows her brow, and she tips her head toward the bottles lined up on the wet bar. "Should I get some water or something too?"

My head shakes as I set down my glass. "No, this is the good stuff. You can take it straight, no chaser."

The doubt clears from her expression, almost bringing me to my knees that she trusts me so fucking completely. She takes a hesitant drink, holding the liquid in her mouth before swallowing. A small grin lifts her cheeks.

"It's really good. I like it."

I love the pleasure ribboning through her voice. Exciting me to show her more things she'll enjoy. "I thought you would."

While she takes another small sip, I push up her skirt and stoke her thighs, brushing my thumb over the silk between her legs. I meet her gaze. Seeking her permission before I show her how much I want her. How much I love her.

Breaths turn to pants and she nods, sucking in her bottom lip in expectation. Somehow I force myself to be gentle. I know what this means to her. To let me touch her where that bastard humiliated her.

Drawing aside the white fabric, I almost fucking explode. The perfect reminder of her innocence. I graze her satin skin but she tenses under my palm. Which guts my chest like a blade. I refuse to allow her to be scared of me. Or fear what I’m going to do to her.

Slower than I ever thought possible, I trail my fingertip up and down her soft folds, with a patience I don’t normally possess. With a shaking hand she puts her drink down too and grips my shirt sleeve. Following along my movements as I stroke her. Slow and long with feather light touches.

Wetness coats my finger, and her eyes flutter shut. A small mew of happiness encourages me to increase the pressure. Firm caresses that brush against the edge of her clit before finally circling around and around the puckered nub. A shuddering gasp rocks her entire body when I thumb the neglected peak.

"We're going to get caught."

A half-hearted shove against my forearm. Like I'd ever fucking stop pleasuring her. "I don't give a damn."

It’s fucking glorious to see her so lost in her bliss. Her delicate beauty overwhelms me. I need more. I need to give her more.

After laying her back on the granite, I blow on her exposed pussy, fucking loving the goose bumps rising on her legs. Her back arches, moving her heaven farther away from my mouth. Which neither of us can stand. Proof from her hands gliding over my scalp guiding me closer.

Fuck me. She's even more lavish than I imagined laid out bare for me on my counter. Begging for my tongue with her rising hips. “You’re so fucking gorgeous angel.”

Before she can respond, I suck in her clit, going straight to her pleasure point. To show her how good it can be. How good we are together. My name tangled in a moan her only answer. The best fucking sound I’ve ever heard her make.

Sliding my hands underneath the waistband, I jerk upwards, ripping the skirt apart. Too damn short for her to be wearing out of the house. Especially without me. With a wide tongue, I lick her arousal, welcoming her body lifting to meet my mouth. To give herself to me.

I kiss up her trembling stomach. The silky bronze tank top, with too fucking low v-neck, bunches around her breasts. I slit that fabric too, exposing her strapless beige bra. While snapping open the clasp with one hand, the other one snakes lower. Slowly massaging her torso until I’m back at the paradise between her thighs. I need to see her beautiful face when I make her orgasm for the very first time.

When I reach her lips, her tongue battles with mine. Pulling me in deeper. Tasting the rich liquor warming us. Caught up in her passion, her hands roam from my hair to my back to my biceps. Her body frantic to tip over the edge. I give her what she needs. Two urgent strokes before I tweak her throbbing nub. She detonates underneath me, crying into my mouth.

While she floats down, I cradle her head and hold her pulsing body. Nuzzling her neck, smiling from my cologne floating on her skin. She wraps around me, clinging to me so fucking tight I almost think she won't let me go. That I can keep her here with me tonight. Keep her with me forever. "Now you smell like me."

Her sweet giggle tickles my ear. "I smell like sex."

"Even better. Now any other motherfucker who comes near you will know you belong to me."

She angles sideways, searching my face as if she still worries about placating me. "There won't be any other men. I swear."

My angel understands me better than I thought. Telling me what I need to hear. Appeasing my worries. Although I know my contentment will instantly evaporate the minute she leaves.

"Molly, come on!" A shrill voice sounds from the front of the house. Boisterous laughter following. "It's time to go!"

Now my lips graze her ear, growling my displeasure. "I fucking hate this. Stay with me."

“I can’t. I promised.”

She starts to sit up, and I fight the movement like a dumb ass. Like holding her down is going to help this situation in any way. When I really just want to carry her upstairs and fuck her until she can’t walk away from me ever again.

“But, why don’t you come with us? It’ll be fun.”

The fuck it will be. Fun is her spread across my bed, breathless and begging me for more. “You know I told Eli we’d have a boy’s night since you’re going out without him.”

Her frown deepens from my reminder. Yes, I’m a total fucking asshole for making her feel even worse. She might as well know now that I’m a mean ass bastard when I pout. Yet I only feel guilty when my pettiness is directed at her. “He’ll be fine. We’ll stuff ourselves with a bunch of junk food and watch his favorite movie. Again.”

I earn a small smile when I roll my eyes. No one knows the torture more than her of the cartoon on repeat for the millionth time. I shrug off my shirt and wrap the white linen around her fucking gorgeous naked body. Which I fucking hate hiding from my greedy eyes. “Let’s get you some appropriate clothes to go out in.”

Now it’s her turn to smirk. “Those were appropriate until you ruined them.”

Fuck she’s sexy when she gets smart ass. “Not for you.”

I take her small hand and lead her up the back stairs. Protecting me from her friends’ disapproval and her from Ty’s shameless gaze. No one gets to see baby girl naked except me.

She curls against me while we walk, resting her head on my shoulder. The contented sigh confirming I’ve made her happy. At least for now.

Inside her room, I drop down in the side chair, waiting while she takes a quick shower. Fighting the urge to follow her in. Luxuriating as her sweet body wash fills the air. Jacking with my phone to keep my hand off my dick that can’t fucking stop imagining her wet and naked.

Fuck it. Unable to stifle my insatiable groan while she dries off, I toss the cell and lean back against the cushion, my legs outstretched in front of me, so I can enjoy her every sensual move. Slowly rubbing white lotion over her gorgeous tits and thighs. Releasing her twisted hair to cascade down her smooth back. Sliding on a purple thong and matching bra. My own personal strip show going in the wrong fucking order.

I zero in on her cute ass as she pads into the closet. The rustling of hangers sliding across the bar echoes from inside. Better not be the same kind of sexy outfit as before. “No skirt.”

She peeks out her shaking head and makes a huge exaggeration of holding up a pair of black silk Capri pants for my asshole approval. Once she pulls on a short jacket over her still too fucking low cut shirt, I’m satisfied. Kind of. But I’m fucking smart enough to keep my mouth shut for once. I don’t want her last few minutes with me tonight to be in an argument.

Unwilling to hold back any longer, I stride toward her, grinding my dick into her back while she runs a tube of gloss over her pink lips. My fingertips linger on the nape of her neck before I glide her hair out of the way, and suck the tender skin on her shoulder. Loving her gasp, the shudder of her delicate body under my lips.

The other hand snakes around her waist when she leans back into my touch, catching her when her knees flex. I palm her dainty throat, squeezing enough to get her attention, and tip her head backward so my mouth brushes her ear. “I want you in my bed as soon as you get home.”

Gorgeous blue eyes meet mine in the mirror. Flaming with the same desire. Burning with the pure lust igniting between us again. “Okay, Luciano.”

This time she curls her fingers around mine, guiding me to the living room where her friends have started the party already. One with a beer to her lips, while the other sits on Ty’s lap, his hand dangerously close to the hem of her glittery hooker dress. Eli's oblivious to their impropriety, while he attempts to pour a bag of chips into a bowl. Only half of them actually make it in to the container.

Ty stands up and sets the brunette on her feet. She quickly grabs onto him again. “Ready Molls?”

Hell the fuck no. “What're you doing?”

My brother shrugs, nonchalance meeting my ire. “I’m going with them.”

“The fuck you are.”

Eli’s head flies up from cleaning his mess. Worry lines his little face. More from my tone than my language. Always fearful when there’s an argument. Too many scary memories from our Dad and Harper. People fight and then they leave and never come back. The only experience he knows. Which I’ve got to fucking dispel.

“Dial it down bro.” He nods toward our little brother. At least sober enough to recognize when Eli’s frightened. “Consider me protection. I’ll watch your girl and make sure nothing happens to her.”

He draws Molly’s friend closer and runs his nose through her hair. “To any of them. Except from me.”

A seductive laugh bubbles in her throat, and she yanks him down to her, her tongue invading his mouth. Of course, my man whore of a brother gives it right back to her. Fucking shit. He’s known her twenty fucking minutes and already almost fucking her right in front of us.

I glance back at Molly who kneels down, soothing Eli with her soft voice. How the hell did she end up with such a slutty friend? My own conscience cringing that she’s the kind of girl we used to bring home all the time. Never had a damn bit of remorse. I was such a fucking idiot. Still am for letting her do this.

A smile covers Eli’s face, love filling his expression as he hugs her. While relief softens mine that she’s worked her magic.

“Be good tonight, and we’ll do something fun tomorrow, okay?”

He nods against her shoulder, squeezing as tight a four year old can. All is right with his world once again. She helps him pick up the rest of the chips while her other friend chugs the remainder of her drink. It’s going to be a long fucking night for both of us waiting for her to get back.

Once Eli releases her, Molly grabs my hand, kissing my cheek with her soft lips. “You be good too, and we’ll do something fun tonight, okay?”

Fuck me. This woman owns me with one naughty whisper. God, I fucking love her. “I should be telling you that.”

“Don’t worry. I will be.”

All Eli and I can do is wave as they drag her away, giggling and tumbling into the Escalade with Kurt closing the door behind them. He gives me a sharp nod, conveying he’s got everything under control. Too bad I can’t say the same thing about my heart. Or my dick.

* * *

I gently slide Eli’s door closed and head to my office. Little man couldn't even make it through just twenty minutes of the second movie before he fell asleep. Too far gone to even stir when I flipped over to catch the rest of the game instead. Or, kidded myself that I was interested in the score. When most of the time my attention stayed on my phone. Watching for updates. Or fucking demanding them when they didn't come through often enough.

Girls on the dance floor. Ty at the bar.

Dumped a drink some asshole tried to send over to her.

Friend blew chunks in the bathroom. Put her in a cab home.

Laid out a bastard who got too close.

That one fucking bad enough to make me call Boz. Luckily, she had no idea what happened. Otherwise, it would have ruined her evening. Mine too. Because I'll be god damned that at least one of us is going to have a good time tonight. She deserves to have her fun.

While I'm in fucking hell. I glance at the screen again. Almost midnight here, but only ten o'clock in L.A. Might as well return DeMarco's call. The mob boss as anxious as I am to halt Annikov’s once slow creep into my territory as well as out west.

So as much as I fucking hate having to rely on anyone else, I’m willing to partner with DeMarco to protect both of our businesses. With his ruthless reputation, I’d rather be with him than against him. Battling simultaneous wars on two fronts would not be prudent.

I tap the button for him and almost instantly a decline message pops up. Give me two minutes.

Shouldn't be surprised since I've been waiting all damn night. Might as well wait on him too.

My frustration is short-lived when his digits blink on my screen. "Luc here."

"Sorry about that. My daughter's teething, and I'm massaging her gums while we wait for the Tylenol to kick in. I don't want her biting my wife."

Interesting that he shares such personal information. Could make a man appear weak to show concern and be so intimately involved with his family. Yet, actually reflects the opposite. Confirms he’s got nothing to prove. Confident in his role as west coast king.

Soft gurgling murmurs in the background. I wasn't around as much when Eli went through that stage. Back when Dad's marriage was still strong. But I remember him wailing like a beast during Sunday dinner until Harper gave him a cold wash cloth to suck on. Relief for all of us. Sounds like they appreciate the respite too. "No worries. This won't take long. Creed's been laying low since the attack. But it's not going to last. We need to pull the trigger."

"I want his ass gone now too before he can mount any plans for retribution. But I don't want to rush and fuck this up with stupid mistakes. We need to look well beyond just his elimination."

The vibration against my ear reminds me of who I'm doing this for. Anxious more than I should be to read the text waiting for me, I force myself to ignore the message. I've got to focus on business instead of my cock. "Agreed. We'll be stronger than hell together. Which also puts us on all the east coast families' radars."

"Yeah, so let's not do anything that will make ourselves targets any more than necessary. We need to meet and make a plan."

"When and where?"

"My house Monday night. Join me for dinner with my family and then we can hash everything out."

A long trip for one meeting. But it's more than just a meal and a strategy session. Rather a symbol of our partnership. We both have to prove our loyalty and commitment to each other and the deal. He can call the shots on his own turf, but conveys his trust in me to include his wife. I must do the same. "I'll be there."

As soon as he clicks off, I swipe the screen like a pussy whipped fucker, and my body relaxes from three simple words: I miss you.

Miss you too, angel.

I fight everything in me not to type for her to get her ass home. Only a few more hours and she’ll be all mine again.

I need something to distract me. Pulling up the reports Derek sent, I review the forecast for next quarter until my cell pings again. Boz this time.

We’re home.

I fling the phone onto my desk and stride down the hall. Ready to find her. Better be in my bed where she fucking belongs. Yet, the house remains oddly quiet. I know Ty and her friend are trashed, and she's feeling pretty good too from all the updates my guys sent, so I can't believe they aren't loud and annoying like my brother usually is.

Bedroom. Living room. Kitchen. All fucking empty.

I stand in the foyer like a dumb ass. No place else she could be. Except one. Fire races through my veins. Fuck no. She can't be in there.

Nausea boils in my gut as I jog downstairs. Ty's play room. Shrieks of laughter echo from behind the heavy door. I haven't been in here since Rachael. Not since I let my thoughtlessness end an innocent woman's life.

Bile clogs my throat from my angel's delicate wrist bound to the St. Andrew's cross with a red silk scarf. Covering her bracelet. Stealing her innocence that this room even exists.

Her friend fumbles with the other restraint, too drunk to tighten it properly while Ty nuzzles her neck from behind. Both of them too lost in each other to notice me. Or Molly's angst.

I swear I can see her fucking heart pounding under her lacy tank. That looks too fucking much like lingerie without the little jacket. Her gaze bores into mine. Her lush mouth parting, but not uttering a word.

She's fucking beautiful but wrong. So god damn fucking wrong.

"Luciano?"

Panic darkens her expression from the horror that must cover mine. She fights against the binding but she's too tipsy to break free from her giggling friend oblivious to her struggle. Timorous. Trapped. Terrified.

"No. Not like this."

Not with her. Not ever again.

I want to rip her off the leather boards, but I can't touch her. Can't tear my eyes from the worry shining in hers. Can't do a damn thing but back away. Racing down the hall, my head aches as much as my heart. I've fucked up. I've fucked up so fucking bad.

I'm actually shaking like a fucking pussy. Unable to blame anyone but myself. No beating or bullet can fix this. Nothing can fix what I've done.

I head to the liquor cabinet and grab a bottle from the counter. Where just a few hours ago, I made her gloriously happy. Made her body scream with pleasure.

Which was a huge mistake. She's a good girl. Like Ty said. She's supposed to be in a bed with the lights off in her nightgown. Not strewn out on a cold, hard table top like a whore. That's what I'm making her. Turning her into.

I suck down three long drinks before my stomach lurches in protest. Already swilling from the image of her at our mercy. Corrupting her innocence.

I've got to take a fucking shower. Only a few steps into the bathroom, a door slams from behind me. I jerk around from my brother stumbling inside, shoving off the door frame with his shoulder. Too fucking drunk to walk straight. Molly curls against his chest.

"Somebody likes being tied up."

Rage curls my fist from his flippant tone. Like this is some kind of fucking joke. No the fuck she doesn't, and he didn't even fucking realize it. But I don't know what's fucking worse. That he didn't catch it, or I didn't do anything about it.

I let him lay her on the bed before I attack him. Ramming him from behind once he stands up and slamming him against the wall. "Did you fuck her?"

"What the fuck are yo—?"

I shove my forearm against the back of his neck. Smashing his fucking face into the drywall. "Fucking answer me!"

"No!" He gets a hard elbow to my gut, and I stumble back. Catching a fist to my eye as he spins around. "Fuck no I didn't fuck her. I’m not a fucking rapist you stupid asshole."

My ass busts against the dresser, cracking the mirror with my back from the force. Motherfucker’s stupid but strong.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Everything. “Just get the fuck out of here.”

“Fuck you.” He rubs his cheek, sprinkled with tiny specks of white paint over the ruddy skin from my assault. “If I didn’t have Aspen waiting for me downstairs, I’d kick your fucking ass.”

“So you were going to fuck both of them, but Molly passed out before you could?”

“God, you really are a fucking psycho. No, I’m going to fuck Aspen but she was too scared to go in the playroom so she drug Molly along to check it out. They were having fun until Molly said she didn’t feel good and I brought her up here.” His finger jerks toward my angel curled on the bed. Long hair splayed across half of her gorgeous face. “You know she’s not into that kind of stuff. Besides, for whatever’s the fuck’s wrong with her head, she’s in love with you. She wants to be with you.”

Fuck me if I don’t almost fucking explode from hearing that. Even though I’ve never done a damn thing to earn any of her affection. But I shake my head, blowing off my brother’s idiotic analysis. “You’re the psycho.”

“All she talked about all night was you. Never danced with anyone else. Fuck she never even looked at anyone else. Just kept checking her phone probably hoping for a text from your stupid ass.”

Contempt darkens his face as he shakes his head. “Which I don’t know why the way you keep jerking her around. You’re nothing but an asshole and don’t deserve her.”

“Yeah I know.”

He shrugs his shoulders and strides to the door. Nothing left for either of us to say. Accurate on all counts.

My chest constricts with a deep sigh, and I tuck the comforter around her. Brushing silky blond strands behind her ear. Caressing the soft skin of her shoulder. Almost wishing she would wake up and reach out to me. Ask me to stay with her. Hold her. Love her. Anything at all. Because here in the darkness it’s easy to ignore the weight threatening to topple me. Pretend desperation and greed don’t rule in my world. That her goodness can save us. Save me.

But she remains motionless. Only her even breathing fills my ears. Her sweet face filling my chest with shame.

* * *

At six, I push out of my chair where I’ve kept vigil over her all night. She only stirred once. Mumbling something I couldn’t make out. But the hint of the smile tugging at her lush mouth came through clear. She’s fucking stunning even in her sleep.

Returning her earlier favor, I set out two pills and a bottle of water before taking a quick shower. My dick needy with the thought of her waking up, looking for me. But my brain knows the truth. I hurt her. Last night. The day before. All the time. And, it’s got to stop. Because she won’t be able to forgive me or herself much more.

Eli will be up soon, and I’ve got to get both of us out of here before she wakes. I don’t even know why. Maybe I really am fucking psycho. But pretending that we’re a happy family stuffing our faces with homemade waffles and planning a trip to the park or some other wholesome way to spend the day together is too much of a fucking farce to endure.

I’m a lucky fucking bastard when I make it to my little brother’s room. He’s sliding sections of track out of the bin and piling them next to the three story parking garage. The perfect picture of innocence that hasn’t been corrupted yet by his jaded brothers. “What’re you doing?”

Grogginess still darkens his expression although he does manage a small smile. “Molly said she would play cars with me so I’m getting the city set up.”

Fucking kills me to crush his enthusiastic spirit. “Sorry little man, but Molly’s belly hurts. She needs to stay in bed for a while.”

“Oh.”

The plastic slides out of his hand, and he doesn’t even flinch when it hits his foot. His heart too sad to notice.

“Will you play with me?”

If I was a good brother, I would. Totally drop down and build a huge ass town and take every single fucking vehicle to the mechanic and restaurant and drive in. But, I’m not a good brother. Not at all. I’m a fucking selfish asshole who only cares about hiding from the people he hurts. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go see my Mom.”

His shoulders droop as much as his quivering mouth. Please fucking god don’t cry. “Do you want to come with me? I can take you out for breakfast.”

He perks up from my enticing tone. Little man loves going out to the diner near her house. Spinning on the red stools lined up to the counter while he waits for his plate of sweets and meats. “Yeah!”

“Well, get dressed then. We’ve got to get going so we’re not late.”

I don’t even finish talking before he’s yanking off his pajamas and digging in his drawer for clothes. Shirts and shorts laid out in perfect matching sets thanks to Mrs. Benson. But without a woman’s touch he still ends up with a cowlick I can’t get to fucking lay down. He doesn’t seem bothered by it so why the fuck should I.

We hustle pretty fast until we reach the car, where he drops the small bag I let him pack, trying to juggle the slick handles while climbing into the backseat. So fucking slow picking up each fucking marker and sticker. But it’ll piss him off I try to hurry him up and our get-away will take that much longer. He’s even more stubborn than I am if that’s possible.

Finally, after what feels like half his fucking lifetime, he crawls in and buckles his seat belt. A huge smile brightening his face. He loves my mother as much as I do. A gentle woman who never begrudges Eli for being a symbol of her ruined marriage and the subsequent failures that came after hers.

“Can we sit up front?”

“Can you be good?”

Shame pinks his cheeks. A reminder of last time when we had to leave early. Sneaking out the side door because he kept jumping on and off the kneeler.

“I was three then. I’m grown up now.”

My chuckle pisses him off, and he crosses his little arms. Disgust radiating through his tone and body.

“I am!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, sir.”

A few more huffs before he settles in to watch the movie. At least it’s a cartoon I haven’t seen in a while if I have to listen to it blare for the next forty-five minutes. No surprise that traffic is light. Most people still in bed this early. Except for the people honoring their weekly Sunday commitments. And those of us too exhausted to sleep.

We pull into the parking lot just as the warning bells sound. My Mom would admonish me that they are inviting everyone to join in the services. Offering the love of the Lord to the entire community. But even as a kid I knew they signaled the shame of being late.

Bounding to the front, Eli waves to my mother as she sings the opening hymn. Her voice really is breathtaking. Rich and smooth, making her seem like she’s on a stage rather than an altar. She surely would have been famous had she not sacrificed her career for my father. Naïve enough to believe the lies he told her, as well as to himself, that he was capable of changing. For her.

Until his secretary impressed him with more than her typing skills. And the line of mistresses grew as tired as my mom’s patience.

There’s something oddly comforting about the ritual. Kneel, stand, sit. Always in the same order. The same words I heard as a child. A glimpse into the past with the blurry lens that gives the illusion of perfection. When I know for damn sure my childhood was anything but perfect.

Eli slumps against my shoulder, his fingers wrapping around my forearm. Still sleepy from his early rise plus the long car ride. Over and over, he runs his silver Mustang down my leg and back up his. The same endless loop I feel stuck in. That I need to fucking break.

He perks up when I drop to my knees. Standing next to me, he looks back and forth between our seat and the pew in front of us. Contemplating jumping off the brown vinyl kneeler. His eyes widen when my head shakes. Yeah buddy, I am a fucking mind reader.

Parishioners stand for his favorite part. One by one they form an unhurried line that he scrambles to join in. He crosses his little arms just like mom taught him, so he can receive the blessing if not communion. Not sure if I believe in any of this. But I do the honorable thing and stand to the side while the priest offers a prayer over him. Rather than risk my mother’s ire or the flames of hell for taking the host when I know I for damn sure I haven’t met the requirement of a clean conscience to receive the body of Christ. Probably never will.

The return of his energy signals the loss of his patience. Unable to sit still any longer even with his coloring books. He skips toward the vestibule after I point to the huge stain glass window glowing from the burgeoning sunlight behind it. Happy to be free again.

His serenade fills the car, surprising me that he remembers as many words as he does. Pride thumps in my chest again. I may be a failure as a stand-in father, but he continues to amaze me with his intelligence and creativity.

"Can we go again next week?"

Fuck me. A child asking to be taken to church. Who the hell am I to say no. "Sure, if you want to."

"Yay!" He dances in his seat, which seems a bit sacrilegious to be jamming to mass hymns. But the kid does have rhythm. "We can bring Molly too. She likes to sing with me."

Hearing her name feels like a punch to the gut. Not that she has left my thoughts for even a second. I carry her with me like my Glock. Relaxed when I have my weapon, restless when I don't. Just like her love. That I better get fucking used to being without.

Eli's request reminds me how deeply I've embedded her in both of our lives. How fucking stupid I am to think that now I can so easily walk away. "Yeah, of course."

My reward for agreeing to his request is him dialing up the volume to his singing. His head tilted back against his car seat, screaming in all his off key glory. Annoying but adorable. For about two minutes. Then I'm going to fucking run us off the road just to make it stop. I hate dumping him in front of the TV but I'm losing it here. So I push the button for the DVD player. Sponge Bob's irritating laugh drowns out Eli's solo before he's totally enraptured with the cartoon. Peace engulfs the SUV. Thank fucking god.

He's antsy again by the time we reach the restaurant. Leaving fingerprints on the windows from scanning the parking lot for my Mom that the detailers are going to bitch about having to clean. But she spoils him with the only grandmotherly love he knows, so the crew will just have to understand and shut the fuck up.

Luckily it's only eight o'clock. This place's a dive, but still hugely popular. Eli would be so disappointed if our spots at the counter were taken. A booth or table would never satisfy his desire to whirl.

Eli's the perfect wing man. As soon as the waitress spots his adorable face, lit up with an enormous smile, she hustles over. Pouring coffee for me and chocolate milk for him. Without us even having to speak, she jots down our order and hangs it on the old school silver wheel. My little brother's eyes light up every time the carousel spins. His stubby fingers itching to twirl it himself. The simple joy of a four-year-old.

All he has to do is ask, and I know the waitress will let him. No one can resist his charm. I start to signal her, when a hand curls over my shoulder. "Luciano."

Mom.

Like I'm a damn kid myself, some of the heaviness weighing on my chest lifts from her soothing voice and gentle touch. I jerk around and stand, engulfing her delicate body.

Despite her frailty, she hugs me tight. Holds me too long. In the middle of this bustling restaurant forcing the wait staff, balancing steaming hot coffee pots and platters heaped with scrambled eggs and sausage links, to weave around us. I can't seem to let her go either.

"Gram Judy color with me!"

She finally releases me from Eli's request. With her palm on the side of my face, she studies me. Never flinching from my gaze. As if she knows I'm insane yet loves me anyway. More than she'll ever understand.

Her small hand, still dark with weeks old bruising, curls around mine as I help her balance to slide onto the vinyl. She clutches the counter edge to steady herself. Thankfully, Eli's oblivious to her struggle. Exactly the way she wants it to remain. Protecting him from the ravage to her body.

Our version of family may be fucked up. Yet no one can deny the love between the two of them. As strong as any grandmother and grandson. At least in spirit if not by blood.

"What have we got here?"

He slides the book over to her. Offering the left page and a red marker. "Horses! Molly lives on a farm and we're going to ride them and brush them and pick out their hooves because you have to take care..."

Now the wattage of her smile surpasses his. The enthusiasm contagious as they work. Enjoying his relentless chatter revolving around everything Molly. While I savor their easy going banter and ignore the battle raging in my conscience.

"Maybe next time you can bring Molly with you."

"That's what I said!"

Both their heads whip toward me. Mom with a knowing look that I choose to ignore. Because she's closer than she suspects to the truth behind the impact Molly's had on us. On me. Instead, I put my hands up in defeat to my brother. "Why I am in trouble? I said she could."

Eli pats her arm. "It's true. He did."

She laughs, genuine and robust, from his sincere absolution of me. A sound I haven't heard often enough lately. Saved from any more inquisition by the delivery of our food. Pancakes and bacon for us guys; veggie omelet and English muffin for her. I've got to get my ass to the gym when I get home.

Home.

Where Molly is. Any more she defines home to Eli. And fucking me too if I'm honest with myself. But, right now I'm not sure if I want to run away or hurry back.

"Can we come over? I want to dig with you."

Mom chuckles along with me. He loves to search for worms while she prunes her flowers. Helping her lug around bags of mulch bigger than himself while earning the occasional ride in the wheel barrow. Both of them able to piddle for hours in and around the house I bought for her. After the way my father fucked her over, the least I can do is keep her free of financial worry. Now she can spend the time she has left puttering in her garden and volunteering at her church.

The waitress scoops up the twenties I lay on the least sticky spot I can find on the Formica. I guess I'm getting my exercise in the outdoors today.

* * *

Eli mumbles incoherently but his eyes remain shut as I hoist him against my shoulder. Punch drunk on sugar, sunshine, and spoiling, he slept the entire ride home. Exhausted by too many hands of go fish and too many tubes of cupcake frosting. Gram Judy knows how to keep a kid happy.

His head lifts as the garage door closes. "Are we home?"

"Yeah, we are."

"Is Molly here?"

I sure as hell hope so. "Probably."

He nods against my neck, fighting against his grogginess from his excitement to see her. A struggle I totally fucking understand.

Neither of us has to wonder any more. She sits at the kitchen table. Deep in thought furiously typing on her laptop. Her cute legs swinging against her stool. Yellow flip flop dangling precariously from her right foot.

"Molly!"

Her head flies up, and she yanks down her ear buds. A huge smile brightening her sweet face. For him. Not me. All of her attention laser focused on Eli. Like I'm not even fucking there.

“Hey buddy, I missed you.”

He slides down my body. His feet barely touching the floor before he races to her. Relief steals his drowsiness completely.

“Does your belly still hurt?”

Realization of my lies frowns her forehead when her gaze meets mine.

“No, now it’s just my heart.”

Fuck me. That fucking stings more than I ever imagined. Totally deserved but still torturous to my own chest.

His face falls with worry. “Can we still play cars?”

“Of course. I’ll be okay. Eventually.”

Yep, that's a kick to my balls. Shocking how she can fucking inflict such deep pain with just a few words. “I’m going for a run.”

Neither of them cares about my so fucking obvious escape. Eli already racing to his room, while she stares at me. Her broken spirit visible in her body jerking off her seat. Arms wrapping around herself before she follows the only other person in this house, who still has a heart, to his room.

* * *

"What do you want to do boss?"

I stare at the piece of shit in front of me. Hanging limp from my two bouncers' corded arms, artworks of intricate black tats covering their skin. Stupid motherfucker ruined my plans to get fucking wasted again tonight. A bad habit I need to break but just can't seem to.

Getting the shit beat out of him for shoving one of my waitresses isn't fucking enough. He thinks he can get away with manhandling my employee over an incorrect drink order? Hell the fuck no.

"His ride here?"

Satisfaction warms my veins when Lucky dangles a small key ring from his pudgy fingers. He knows me and my perverse style of revenge too well.

"Baby shit yellow Vette."

Fucking shame to ruin something so beautiful. Damn. Molly's glorious pussy splayed across my kitchen table screams into my thoughts.

I shake my head, and my guys glance at each other. Confused that maybe I want something different than my usual punishment. Can't let anyone have any fucking doubts. About me. Or my orders. "Torch it and make sure the bastard is conscious enough to watch."

I sneer and their heads bob in unison. Relief softening the uncertainty lining their faces. The motherfucking boss is back. At least in appearance. My head's still a fucked up mess. With or without whiskey.

They drag his ass to the back while I stride through the VIP section. Nodding at a few prominent deal makers. Even that rapper that's so fucking hot right now. Fuck I'm getting old and I can't remember his god damn name. But at least I know his face. I signal the waitress, holding up two fingers and point to him. Drinks for him and the girl bouncing on his cock. Earning me a chin lift and a chest tap.

Just making sure you and your crew return, my friend. Rising stars are always good for business. So is the boss making his rounds. The surprise on some of their faces doesn't get past me. I was right - too fucking complacent. People need to remember who the fuck I am.

The god damn king of fucking Chicago. Not some pussy whipped ass who can think only of his woman. I don't need any of that shit. I feel better already. Returning to what I've been missing all along.

A humid breeze steals my oxygen as soon as I step outside. Sweat beads instantly running down my back as I stride to the empty parking lot two buildings down in this abandoned industrial complex. The perfect environment for my gaming parties. Exclusive, expensive, and inconspicuous. In and out before dawn. Everyone drunk, happy, and satisfied.

Except for this sorry loser. Sick laughter mingles with the begging of the asshole who now realizes the consequences of my wrath.

"I'll say whatever you want. Do whatever you want. Just don't do it!"

None of my guys pay any attention to his pleading. I've never felt higher than from smelling the accelerant Lucky splashes across the leather interior before tossing in the entire can and slamming the door shut. Glass shattering onto the gray asphalt from the already cracked window.

"No! No! No!"

He's literally fucking crying. Fat ass tears rolling down his swollen cheeks as fast as his kicking legs trying to escape. No chance motherfucker with the Smythe brothers holding you. Fucking scary beasts that I fucking love having on my payroll.

Gasoline wafts from Lucky's fingertips when he hands me the final supplies required for our bonfire. Squatting down in front of the ass wipe, I can’t hold back a smirk from the absolute pleasure rolling through me from his torture. His eye red and throbbing. Blood dripping down his temple from the gash across his forehead. "Need to learn to keep your hands to yourself motherfucker."

"I will! I promise! I'm begging you!"

His head twists in agony as I swipe the match across the cracked ground and bring it to the tip of the fat stogie between my lips. Cuban, my favorite. A long, deep inhale before I toss the tiny flaming stick over my shoulder. Funny how some of the smallest weapons can cause the greatest damage.

One last pitiful sob before orange flickers in his huge eyes. Got to jet before the flames singe my new suit. Which would really piss me off.

Lucky gives him one last kick to his balls before he leans over him like a fucking mammoth. “Tell anyone it was us and you die.”

Simple, straightforward, and oh so true. We leave his sorry ass wailing on the ground. Just like he deserves.

The remainder of the evening flies by. Catch my brother fucking some girl on a surprisingly still operable hoist. Slice the throat of one the new dealers who thought he could short me. Deflect the chick slinking up to me who stupidly thinks I might be interested in her dirty, wasted ass.

All in a night’s work of easily clearing two million. Give or take from the piles of hundreds and twenties stacked on Teri’s makeshift work table. Her hands are a blur as she counts. A great talent to add to her brilliant mind. But I dare not speak to her. Even with a compliment. If I fuck up her tally, she’ll try to fuck up my balls.

Phillip responds to my nod, confirming the crew is almost done breaking down the equipment and loading them into the tractor trailers waiting in the loading docks. “Have a good evening, boss.”

“You too.”

Almost morning actually. With the deserted streets, I make it home by four. Like a fucking addict I glance at her window first even though I fucking swore I wouldn’t. Dark like the rest of the house. Good. Asleep like she should be.

My cock twitches from the thought busting into my mind of her in my bed rather than her own. My heart pounds as I hustle to my room to take a shower. Desperate to be free of the grime and sweat coating me.

Empty.

Fucking perfect. Because I would’ve just had to kick her cute little ass out anyway. Back to where she belongs. Which sure as hell isn’t here. Or with me.

My hand pauses on the knob after I slam the door shut behind me. It’s so fucking late she probably won’t come anyway. Which is no big fucking deal. Probably beyond furious that she’s now fully realized what a jack ass I am. That she’s better off without me. That she deserves better. And, I should be alone.

I slowly turn the lock. A satisfying click against the metal signifying the end. Glad to finally be through with all that bullshit. Now I’m free just like I’ve always wanted.