Parker
I scratch my naked chest absentmindedly, body leaning against the open fridge door as I survey its contents. It’s near lunchtime and my eyes are still blurry from sleep, which I just woke from, like the fucking dead.
I’m exhausted. Shit, I didn’t breach the threshold of the loft until after the sun had risen this morning, barely having enough energy to shed my clothes before falling face first onto my bed. Where I’d stayed, passed out, until only fifteen minutes ago.
“Coffee or a shake?”
I twist my head at the sound of Rocco’s voice, stepping from the crisp air of the fridge and closing the door.
“Kill for coffee, but I’ll go the shake.”
I drag my feet from the kitchen, dropping onto the first stool along the kitchen island, elbows to the cool marble, pushing into the sockets of my eyes with the hard press of my palms.
“Got in late last night,” Rocco states, pulling bits and pieces from the fridge, back toward me.
“Hmmm… try fuckin’ early morning.”
He glances back at me, nodding. He’s dressed, presentably; dark jeans, dark Henley, boots still on his feet. “Just got in or headed out?” I ask.
He chops and cuts a range of veggies and fruits into the blender, turning it on and watching me as the screeching sound of my breakfast ricochets through our loft. It stops and he turns to the cupboard, reaching for our protein and scooping heavy spoonfuls in before turning it on briefly once again.
Pouring us each a shake he moves closer, handing me mine and taking a deep swallow of his. “Just got in, breakfast with Aunt Mira.”
I look over him for a drawn-out second. “Spending a lot of time with her lately. Everything cool?”
He tips his head this way and that. “Yeah. Finally setting our plan into motion, I’ve been thinking about mom a lot. Mira’s the only one that remembers her, that can tell me things about her. Helps with the fuckin’ train wreck that is my brain.”
I smile solemnly before my mouth twists in obvious distaste. “Marcus there too?”
He grunts angrily around another large swallow of his shake, emptying the glass. “Been on a bender for a few days,” he discloses. “Rocked up smelling of some other bitch’s perfume, red lipstick staining his shirt, dickhead doesn’t even try to hide it. I made her pack some shit and put her in a hotel for the next few nights. Don’t want her around him when he’s coming down off whatever the fuck he’s been on.”
I shake my head furiously. “Why the fuck does she stay? Shit, she knows she’d be welcome here. We’d protect her.”
“Tried, man, but I get her fears. Marcus is fuckin’ unhinged. She’s not just protecting herself, she’s tryin’ to protect us as well.”
I cough around the revulsion coursing through my body. “Like to see him try and come at me. Fuckin’ coward.”
“That’s the problem, dollface. He wouldn’t come at you, he’d come from behind. This way we can all keep him in line.”
I shrug him off, I’d like nothing more than to put that psycho in the ground. Take his breath from his body for all the hurt he’s caused Mira. I feel weak not being able to protect her. Not that he tends to use his fists on her anymore, not since Rocco and I grew bigger than him, grew stronger. Still. The guy is scum.
“Why were you at the club so late?” Rocco breaks into my angry thoughts and I sigh heavily.
“Speaking of the fuckin’ devil, Ruin was his choice of hell last night.” I smile sarcastically, irritation and rage bubbling over my skin at the mere thought of the fuckwit. “Rocked up with a group of underage fuckin’ girls, feeding ‘em booze and God knows what else. They weren’t with it though.”
The flare of Rocco’s nostrils gives away the bristling storm swirling within him. He’s silent, and it’s eerie so I fill the void with the sound of my own voice. “A fight had broken out before I even knew he was there. Throwing his weight around, kickin’ a group of people outta the VIP lounge upstairs.”
Biting his bottom lip to hold back the tirade of expletives he’s dying to let loose, Rocco shakes his head. “What d’ya do?”
I shrug. “He went head to head with me as soon as I came into view. Asshole. In the end, I had to threaten callin’ the cops to get him to leave. Thankful he did so without his schoolyard groupies in tow.”
“Glad I moved Mira today. He’ll be fuming over you making him look the fool.”
I nod my agreement, pissed off we’re forced to hide Mira to protect her stubborn ass. “New bartender is also a fucktard, fired her on the spot so I was working the bar until we closed. Stayed a little after that to finish some of the paperwork I was supposed to spend the night doin’.”
Guilt flashes over Rocco’s features, knowing he’s leaving me to run the bar solo most of the time. “I’ll take tonight, bar tended or will I need to cover?”
I shrug. “Fin thinks he’s got a cousin that can handle the consistency of the crowd. Told him to bring him in tonight. Let you make the decision of how competent he is.”
He nods. “Fuckin’ hate staff.”
“Amen, brother. So, how was Mira?”
Rocco smiles affectionately, starting his retreat from the kitchen. “Come on, she gave me some shit I wanna show you.”
I follow him into the living room, dropping onto the couch beside him. Sliding his hand into a small brown paper bag, he pulls out a small pile of faded photos and I glance to them in interest.
“They’re of Mom. And Mira. When they were kids. Teenagers. Before Kane. Before Marcus. Before us.”
I sit up straighter, reaching out a hand to look as he passes them to me individually.
Mom stares out at me, her smile commandeering her entire face, unfiltered happiness shining from her. “Shit, she can’t be more than sixteen here,” I say, more to myself than to Rocco, my finger brushing along the line of her smile.
She was so beautiful, a tan covering her skin, long blonde hair falling over her shoulders in messy waves. Large gray eyes, much like mine and Rocco’s, staring out at me from the faded photo. I can pretend, almost, that she is looking at me. Only me. Her wide, infectious smile directed to me, like it once used to do.
I swallow against the sudden onset of emotion choking me as Rocco passes me another photo, this one of Mom and Mira.
“Shit,” I laugh. “Look at how goofy they were.”
Rocco laughs, leaning over to look at the picture again. Mom and Mira are standing together, arms draped over one another’s shoulders, foreheads pressed together in a laugh.
“They looked so alike when they were younger. I only see the similarity in certain looks nowadays.”
I nod as he passes me another photo, letting myself get lost in my mother’s face once again. My heart feels heavy in my chest and the feeling of loss I work so hard to suppress, rears its ugly head and I swallow the ache sliding up my throat, attempting to suffocate me.
We flick through photo after photo, watching her smile, laugh and letting the wound in our chests, so barely contained, reopen and bleed inside.
“Fuck. I miss her.”
I don’t even think he’s realized he’s spoken, but I move a hand to grab hold of his shoulder, squeezing. He sniffs, his head tipping back and hands me the last one in the bunch. “We should frame this one.”
I take it from him and understand the sudden show of emotion. Mom is sitting on a couch, Rocco climbing over her back, laughing. Her hands are grasped around my middle, tickling me, my face alight with laughter. It’s her smile though; staring directly at the camera, so fucking happy in that single moment with the two of us.
I clear my throat, my neck twisting to look at Rocco. My eyes sting with the tears I’ve held so long at bay and I nod. “Yeah,” I exhale heavily. “I’ll grab a frame when I’m out today.”
We sit in silence for close to an hour, flicking through some of the few things we have left of our mother; memories and photographs. Placing the pictures on the coffee table, Rocco stands, his eyes red-rimmed, the fire in his eyes dancing dangerously.
“Gonna clean up the kitchen, then head into work. Will text Fin and tell him to bring his cousin in early, check him out before we open.”
“Good idea,” I offer distractedly, eyes still focused on my mother.
I feel his stare for a moment longer before he walks away. I stay there on the couch, for an indefinite amount of time; letting myself recall every small detail of her face, bringing her back to life. At least in my mind. I close my eyes and remember her smiling, laughing, loving me. She did that fiercely, love us. Fuck, there was never any doubt in my juvenile brain that she fucking adored me and Rocco. She made sure we knew we were her world. Us. Nothing more, nothing less. I often wonder how different we’d be if she hadn’t been taken from us. If her life hadn’t been stolen away without consideration for the collateral damage that would follow. I try to imagine what it would be to live without this fire in my heart, this fire for revenge. This hate.
What would Rocco be like? Shit, he’s consumed with the rage, with the unrelenting need for vengeance. What if he didn’t need that? He’s spent his life playing parent while wrestling with the maniac inside his head, fueled only by the need for retaliation.
I’ll never know. He likely won’t ever know. But maybe, with any luck, our plan for atonement will bring him a sliver of peace. However small. He deserves that much. We deserve it.
Our strategy for payback is right. It’s justified. I know that deep in my soul. Staring into the same eyes as mine, so similar they could be hers, so faded and discolored in a photograph, I feel it. I might have my doubts, but she deserved more.
My. Mom. Deserved. More.
Collecting the pictures into a small neat pile, I move toward my bedroom, tucking them safely into my drawers, buried safely under my boxers and socks. Changing into a pair of gym shorts, I wrap my hands, eager fury running through my veins. This is what I needed. A reminder. An emotional slug right to my face, impossible to ignore. A not-so-subtle whisper recalling the reason behind this plan. Codi Rein is sweet, sure, but other than a sweet piece, who is she to me, really?
No one.
She’s fucking no one.
My mother was someone. My reason for living. The person who gave me a heart and showed it how to beat. The person who taught me what love was. The most important person in my life, alongside Rocco. The lifeline that was ripped from me.
Codi Rein will be their penance. I’ll rob her from them, the way they took her from me and I’ll show them what real pain is. What misery feels like. What hopelessness is. I’ll rip their goddamn blackened hearts from their chests before their very own eyes and crush it in my palm. They’ll see their blood and tears run over my tattooed hand as I extinguish their souls and I smile doing it. Really fucking big.
Then we’ll have our peace.
We’ll have our revenge.
***
My cell buzzes in my pocket as I walk toward Codi’s apartment block, my heavy footsteps echoing along the quiet street. My mind feels clearer than it has in weeks. A renewed sense of purpose seems to have washed over me and I feel invigorated with my determination.
Rocco’s name lights on my screen and I slide my thumb across it, drawing it to my ear.
“Yo.”
“Checkin’ in. Seeing how you were holding up after today. Seeing those pictures was heavy.”
I swallow against the affecting clog of Rocco’s tone. “I’m good, man. Better than. I’m glad we have them. Fired the monster inside me. Made me more determined.”
I can see the smile on his face, obvious from the elated sound of his voice. “Good. Real fuckin’ glad to hear it, brother.”
I reach Codi’s apartment, taking a step or two past it and turning my back. “I’m ready, Rocco. I’m ready to send them to hell.”
“Calm down, dollface. Enjoy yourself for a bit first. No harm in tasting what the bitch has to offer before we take the next step.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “So, listen,” I cough out. “Don’t think I say it enough, if ever, I appreciate you, man. Always got my back and I —”
“Parker, don’t sweat it. You don’t thank me for being here. You’ve got my back just as much as I have yours.”
“Nah,” I laugh out. “Ain’t nothing in this world I could do to pay you back for all the shit you’ve taken to protect me.”
Silence hits me for a moment and we remain that way for a second before Rocco clears his throat. “Do it again. No hesitation.”
“We’ll get it, Roc. Our peace. Hers. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Damn. Fucking. Straight. Listen, gonna get back to it. I’ll catch you later.”
He hangs up without waiting for a reply and I push out a deep breath, cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders before shoving my cell in my pocket and turning around.
I stop cautiously at Codi’s anxious face, her eyes moving over me nervously. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Heard your voice.”
“How much you hear?”
She shakes her head vigorously. “Not much. Nothing really. Barely anything.”
Her cheeks shade at her rambling and I take a tentative step closer. She doesn’t recoil from my advance and I breathe a sigh of relief. Not afraid, means maybe she didn’t hear anything of value. Anything that could derail our plan.
By the time I’ve reached her, her cheeks are still shining but with an entirely different emotion. Her tongue peeks out, wetting her brightly painted lips and I smirk down at her. It’s fake. My worry about what she heard still playing on my mind. She reads the falseness of the smirk, her eyes narrowing slightly and I don’t give her another second to second-guess me, I lean down, dragging my nose along the line of her jaw.
“Smell good. Always so sweet.”
She releases a shaky breath and I grin to myself. Success. I plant a soft, drawn-out kiss along her jawline, pulling back marginally to find her lips. They’re delicately agape, her eyes closed and I don’t hesitate in dragging my tongue along her top lip. She chases my tongue with hers, and I give in to my need to taste her. Rocco’s right, I need to enjoy her while I can.
I push her against the doorjamb, still standing within the open frame as the door closes against my back. Any of her neighbors could see us, caught halfway between the inside and outside of her apartment. She doesn’t seem to mind, pulling me into her as I assault her lips. She gives as good as she gets, her tongue moving desperately against mine, soft needy cries breaking into my throat.
She pulls away first, the back of her head hitting the doorframe and I smile down at her.
“Like the way you say hello.”
I stare at her for a moment; eyes hooded, bottom lip caught delicately between her teeth, hair purposefully messy. Fuck. My gaze slides down her body; she’s completely covered, long-sleeved, fitted gray top tucked into her black high-waist jeans. There’s a cut of material, open across her cleavage, showcasing the decent swell of her tits, but that’s it. Still, she’s sexy as all fucking hell.
I step back, stopping myself from pushing this further and fucking her for all her neighbors to see.
“Random fact,” I start and she smiles expectantly. “Don’t like people listening to my business. Don’t eavesdrop on me again.”
Her smile falters and she nods her head; fast, shaky movements. “Of course. I’m sorry. Honestly, wasn’t my intention.”
She’s intimidated by the stern throw of my voice, but she needs to be. Caution is imperative. My whole plan could have gone up in flames in a single moment back there.
She swallows heavily and attempts to move back into the apartment, uncomfortable with the intensity of my scrutiny.
“You didn’t tell me yours.”
“Huh?” she squeaks.
“Random fact. You didn’t tell me yours.”
She looks momentarily stunned. Whiplashed at how easily I move between moods. She’ll get used to it.
“Oh. Umm… I’m allergic to peanuts.”
I didn’t know that. Everything Rocco has dug up on her and her family so far has been concrete, solid. Nothing she discloses has come as a surprise. Fucking lucky I ain’t kissed her after eating heaped spoons of peanut butter. That could’a ended badly. Or, more likely, quicker than I planned.
“Hmm… guess I shouldn’t eat peanut butter before I taste your lips then.”
“That would be appreciated,” she laughs, finally settling from the uncertainty filling her eyes only moments prior.
“Let me grab my shoes and bag and I’m ready.”
I follow her into the apartment, eyes focused on her retreating ass, sculpted perfectly in her tight jeans.
“Yeah, totally not ready to die, just sayin’.”
“What?” I cough out, a little too loudly.
She looks at me, her eyes dancing with puzzled amusement. “Joke, Parker. Peanut butter, I just said, I wasn’t ready to die, like, don’t eat it before you kiss me.” She tips her head side-to-side. “It was a lame joke.”
I force a laugh, heightening her embarrassment and I scold myself internally. “Let’s go,” I declare, changing the subject. “I’m starved.” I let my eyes travel over the shapely figure, letting her read my double innuendo.
Sliding her feet into a pair of black shimmery pumps, she rolls her eyes, color scattering over her cheekbones as she nods.
“Dinner was amazing.”
I squeeze her hand before letting it go and reaching into my pockets for the key to the loft. “Sugar, we had pizza.”
“Don’t curse at me like that. Pizza is God. And definitely the way into my heart.”
Pushing the door open, letting her in ahead of me. “Interested in somethin’ other than your heart right about now.”
She whirls around on high-heeled feet. “Parker,” she scolds joyfully, whacking my arm with her purse. I shrug. It’s true. Best she knows it.
“Get you a drink?”
“Water would be good,” she answers, eyes skirting over the loft in intrigue.
“My rooms that way,” I point in its direction. “Rocco’s that,” I point in the opposite. “Living room, kitchen, gym,” my finger follows my instruction, pointing to each space as I recite them and she follows my lead toward the kitchen.”
“Bathroom?” She arches an eyebrow.
“No main bathroom, Rocco and I each have an en-suite. You’ll locate mine that-a-way.”
Placing her purse on the kitchen counter, she nods, turning in the direction of my room. I fix our drinks, tempted to follow her path, but she’s back before I consider the thought much further.
She takes the water I offer, smiling in thanks before moving to the couch. “I like your place,” she admires, eyes drinking in every possible detail. Finally, her eyes meet mine as I take a seat next to her.
“I like you,” I offer quietly, taking her glass and placing it next to mine on the table in front of us.
She swallows audibly and my hand cups her jaw, holding it tightly as I lower my mouth on hers. She lets me kiss her. Softly. First her top lip. Then her bottom. Her eyelashes flutter, eyes closing as my lips caress hers, a smooth almost inaudible moan escaping her parted lips.
I tease my tongue along the groove of her upper lip and like clockwork, hers tips out to follow it.
My body pushes hers into the couch and she goes willingly, her legs moving open to let me fit between her thighs. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me more forcefully onto her body, her mouth opening to allow my tongue entry. I grind my hips against the apex of her thighs, her soft, needy moans vibrating into my mouth as I kiss her.
My cock is hard, straining heavily against my jeans and I push against her. Firmly, letting her feel what she does to my body. She gasps, her mouth falling open, neck tipping back and I take the opportunity to break our kiss, trailing my lips along her jaw, down her neck; tasting her skin.
She moans and whimpers, her hips pushing against mine, feeling me. My large palm finds her chest, nipples straining through the thin bra barely hiding the heaviness of her tits.
Fuck. Codi Rein is an accelerant to my fire. Making me mad with the need to claim her body.
I pinch a nipple and she arches into my touch, her lips seeking mine out once again. My hand travels farther down her body, fingers finding the button of her jeans. I pop it open easily and our kiss breaks, her head falling back and before I have the chance to open my eyes, she moves to sit up, fast.
Too fucking fast. Her forehead connecting heavily with my nose.
“Motherfuck,” I spit out, hand flying to my nose, eyes watering.
Her surprised gasp hits me and I attempt to move off her, at the same time she rolls and arches, kneeing me right in the balls as she pushes me off.
I fall from the couch on a yell; one hand clutching my junk, the other on my nose. My back slams against the coffee table, our drinks soaking the back of my shirt.
She mumbles something about working tomorrow, mixing it with a rushed apology. But I’m too caught up in the pain doubling over my body to really listen. I’m not sure what hurts more; my nose or balls.
Fuck.
What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened.
Motherfucker.
My front door slams shut and my eyes shoot open, glancing around the loft, no longer containing Codi Rein. I pull my hand from my nose, blood pooled in my palm and I tip my head back on a growl, working to stop blood from dropping anywhere else.
“Fuck, man.”
I groan at the sound of Rocco’s voice. “How much you see?”
I don’t look at him, eyes trained on the ceiling, but his voice travels through the loft, moving with his body toward the kitchen. “Heard an almighty grunt, pained, not sexual, came out to check and saw the knee to junk and then her fleeing the scene, barely made time to grab her shoes.”
Standing over me, he hands me a bag of frozen veggies. “Ice your balls.”
I struggle up, moving to sit on the couch and do as he says, lodging the ice cold packet against the ache of my nutsack. He hands me a dishtowel, ice packed inside. “Hold this against your nose.”
“One second she was moaning, arching into me, totally fuckin’ into it, next she’s causing me grievous bodily harm. What. The. Fuck.” The sound of my voice is muffled, nasal from the hit and I hear Rocco’s breath of laughter. “Shut the fuck up.”
“You guys fucked yet?”
I shake my head, my head spinning from the movement.
“Probably movin’ a tad fast or some shit chicks sprout so they don’t seem like their sluts. I don’t give a shit if a girl gives it up the first time I meet her, man. I don’t know where they pulled this wait a certain number of dates shit. All that does is piss me off.”
I grunt in agreement. I hate games. Fuckin’ despise women holding out on me for no other reason than trying to keep me interested. Wanna know what keeps me interested? Knowing how their pussy fuckin’ tastes, not wondering. Knowing they’re not a fuckin’ dud lay, that they openly participate in our fucking. That’s what keeps me the fuck interested.
I don’t know what Codi Rein is playing at, but I ain’t interested in being her puppet.
Later that night, showered, balls a little less tender than they were a few hours ago, I grab my cell, searching for her name and hitting call before I can second guess myself. The shrill ring of her phone echoes in my apartment and I stalk through it, locating her purse still sitting on our kitchen island where she left it earlier.
I scowl down at it, pulling my cell from my ear and ending the call. Bitch ran out of here so fast, she didn’t think to grab her purse. What the actual fuck?!
Nose still tender, I head to bed, trying to decipher what the fuck is going on in Codi’s brain. Maybe Rocco was right, maybe I was moving too fast for her. Did it necessitate a hit to my junk and possibly a black eye? Fuck no. But, maybe she ain’t playing a game, maybe she was genuinely panicked with us moving too fast. A conversation needs to be had, save myself another black eye.