Chapter Twenty-Two

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough in James’s opinion. It had been the month from hell and every new day was a fresh wave of torture. Albeit, once he’d sorted out Cora’s parents, it hadn’t been too bad. There was less tension in the air, less signs of misery in Cora’s eyes. Granted, it was brimming with stress now. But he’d expected that. Welcomed it in comparison.

The evening approached with the arrival of everyone who wanted to kill him. They pulled into the driveway, one after the other, a carousel of death and pain waiting to happen and flooded into the manor.

Voices rose into the air, a cacophony of laughter and greeting. It swelled up to the ceiling and struck James where he stood at the top of the grand stairway.

Elise had originally wanted him and Cora to greet everyone at the door.

She’d inexplicably changed her mind that morning and insisted they wait to make a grand entrance once everyone had arrived.

James wanted to do neither.

His idea was to slip in while everyone was having a good time, steal a few of those shrimp paste things, and sneak out.

After all, these were Cora’s people.

Cora’s family.

Cora’s party.

He’d done it for her.

It made no difference to him how it all came together.

He already had the girl.

He was already married to her.

The rest was just to make her happy.

“Are you ready for this?”

De Marco joined James at the railings overlooking the foyer.

“Probably not.” James straightened. “Shouldn’t you be down there with your wife? It’s your family.”

De Marco chuckled. “They like her better.”

James didn’t blame them, but didn’t say as much.

“Any luck finding your mole?”

De Marco adjusted his bowtie and smoothed his hands down the silk lapel of his tux. “Not yet, but that’ll change tonight.”

James wanted to ask, but there was something else that had been nagging at him, something that kept rising back up no matter how much sand he tossed over it.

“You set Cora’s apartment on fire.” He didn’t bother placing it as a question. He didn’t need to. “That was why you weren’t in a hurry to find the person responsible. It was you.”

De Marco continued watching the steady flock of party goers flood into his foyer and stream towards the ballroom. He absently adjusted the diamond cufflinks on his sleeves.

James turned his body to fully face him and continued keeping his tone low. “You could have fucking killed her, you sick son of a bitch.”

A muscle twitched in De Marco’s cheek. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if I did,” he tipped his chin towards James, “I would have made certain she got out. One way or another.”

James chose to ignore his ignorance. “Why? Because you wanted me to buy that Carmichael house that badly that you would risk her life? That you would risk her hating you forever if she ever found out?”

De Marco paused, possibly to consider the questions carefully before speaking. “Where is my daughter right now, Captain?” he said at last with a glimmer of barely suppressed triumph. “Under my roof, with me, where she belongs. And how will she find out? Admit it or not, you love her and you know this will crush her ... if what you say was in fact true.”

He stepped around James and started for the stairs without a backwards glance.

It infuriated him that the man was right. James wouldn’t tell Cora, as much as he wanted nothing more than to grind that smug smirk off the man’s face. It would devastate her to know the man she loved so dearly, had sacrificed herself for over and over again had lit everything she cared about up in flames, all to prove a point.

But it didn’t mean James would allow De Marco to get away with it. If he thought he would continue having access to her, an opening to continue hurting her, he was about to have a rude awakening.

“Captain.”

Elise smiled and waved at him from the bottom of the stairs, looking radiant in an off the shoulder burgundy gown. Her dark hair was twisted up into an elegant knot and woven with a dozen tiny pearls. She extended a bare arm to him, small fingers splayed.

“Walk a lady in?”

James would have preferred not to. He was still too angry to be anywhere near people. But he descended the steps and joined his mother in law at the bottom. She gave him a broad grin and slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow.

“Now, I’ve made it clear, no weapons,” she told him smoothly as they followed the last of the herd towards the ballroom. “No killing, or hitting, or stabbing, poisoning, assassinating, bashing, shooting—”

“Basically all the fun stuff,” he interrupted.

Elise laughed. “Exactly. You’re perfectly safe. I made sure of it.”

James bit his grin back. “I appreciate that. I’d hate to kill all of Cora’s family after only just meeting them.”

She swatted at him playfully. “That goes for you as well. All happy things tonight.”

He paused before they reached entrance and faced the tiny woman with her enormous eyes, eyes that were so much like Cora’s.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “Not just for helping Cora with tonight, but for being so welcoming of me ... minus the many times you threatened to kill me.”

Tears illuminated the soft green, making them shimmer slightly over a shaky smile. “Believe it or not, you’re exactly the kind of man I’ve always wanted for her ... minus the kidnapping.”

James chuckled.

His gaze slid away towards the open door and the crowd of strangers waiting for the chance to stab him in the eye with their shrimp forks. He sucked in a breath and huffed.

“Better get this over with, huh?”

“Don’t worry.” She squeezed his arm. “I’ll protect you.”

Laughing, he turned his head back to her, prepared to thank her for her bravery, when a glint against her chest caught his eye. It immediately drew his attention to the delicately woven chain draped around her throat and settled neatly just above the swell of her breasts. But it was the fine, gold cross that held him captive.

“Captain?”

He couldn’t find words to respond. Everything about the bit of metal was common, a religious symbol that could be found in any shop, but it held him spellbound even as all the blood began to pool in his head.

“James?” Elise settled a hand on his chest. “You’ve gone very pale, are you all right?”

He ignored her.

His hand shook as he lifted it and took it gently off her skin. His lungs throbbed in panic as he held his breath, willing it to be nothing.

But he knew, even before he flipped it over, before he saw the neat inscription, he knew.

He fucking knew.

The pull was undeniable.

It was excruciating.

He could feel it as surely as an open wound across his chest.

“Where did you get this?”

He had no recollection of speaking until she was answering, “It was a gift.”

“This was Annie’s.” He restrained himself from yanking it off her neck.

“What?”

Ignoring her horrified gasp, he grabbed her arm instead.

“James, you’re hurting me!”

He ignored that too as he dragged her into a room filled with people who wouldn’t be too shy about shooting him. To her credit, Elise didn’t make a scene as he hauled her to where De Marco stood in the circle of his beloved family, the thing he’d deprived James his entire life.

De Marco saw them coming and his cool façade plummeted into one of blistering murder. He left the group and met James in two wide strides.

“Get your fucking hands off my wife,” he snarled barely beneath his breath. He grabbed Elise’s other arm and yanked her to him, putting her partially behind him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

They were drawing attention. James could feel curious eyes boring into his shoulder blades, but he didn’t give a fuck.

“You claim you have no idea who Annie was, yet your wife is wearing her necklace.” He ignored the glance De Marco cast the cross and plunged on. “It’s hers. I know, because I spent two months mowing every lawn within a twenty mile radius in scorching heat to save up to get it and have it engraved for her sweet sixteenth. She was wearing it the night she was taken, but it was inexplicably missing when you dumped her bloody, broken body back in her bed for us to find in the morning. For my mom to find.” His voice was shaking. He could hear it wavering between boiling rage and crippling emotion, but he couldn’t stop. “Did you take it off her neck before or after you and your men brutally violated her? Did you put it in your pocket and bring it home to your beautiful wife while your little girl slept upstairs, oblivious?”

“Enough!” De Marco’s snarl shredded through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Beloved sister,” James murmured. “A strange thing to give your wife, don’t you think?”

Elise had gone as white as the pristine clothes on the tables. Her knuckles blazed white around the cross. Tears shivered at the corners of her glassy eyes, but she never said a word.

“We will discuss this later,” De Marco bit out. “This isn’t the time nor the place.”

“You’re right.” James nodded slowly. “Later.” He turned to Elise. “I’d like it back.”

Elise unclasped it without question. The chain and cross slithered into James’s palm, a fine puddle of gold that disappeared into his pocket.

Not trusting himself not to punch the man in the face, James walked away from the pair, ignoring the eyes following him, the curious whispers, the pointed fingers.

Fuck ‘em all.

He was leaving.

He was grabbing Cora and they would get on the boat and go wherever the fuck she wanted, but they were not staying there another night.

Nicholas appeared in front of him, a familiar face he hadn’t been expecting, blocking his path to freedom.

He stared at the man, bemused. “What are you doing here?”

Nicholas shrugged. “I heard you were having a party with wolves.”

“I’m fine.”

He shouldered past his oldest, dearest friend and continued towards the door.

“Hate to tell you, you used to be a better liar.”

Nicholas fell into step with him.

“Just get back to the ship,” James muttered. “Get ready. We’re leaving within the hour.”

That was as far as his instructions went when a hushed gasp went over the room. All heads pivoted towards the door, one by one as everyone turned to get a better look at the figure situated at its opening.

Poetry.

Every languid, flawless part of her was the written word in a language too beautiful for any mortal man. She resonated a deep, unearthly glow that outshone every woman that had ever or would ever grace the planet.

It haloed perfection.

“Do you still want the ship ready within the hour?”

He ignored Nicholas’s taunt and moved forward, his feet no longer his. They moved of their own volition, creating a path through the horde with a single minded purpose — to reach her.

She spotted him.

Her beautifully darkened eyes cut through all the faces without seeing one and latched on to his. They gleamed with an almost predatory glint that made his fucking knees weak.

“Hey,” she murmured, and maybe it was his imagination, but even her voice seemed to hum with a sultry purr.

He reached the bottom of the tier, the half circle of stairs to where she stood at the top, a radiant goddess in a single sheath of body clinging fabric that made him aware of every coveted inch of her that belonged to him.

She wore red.

The color of fire.

The color of passion.

The color of sin.

He wanted to fuck the sin out of her.

“Jesus, sweetheart.”

Her lips bowed up on one side. “I bet you say that to all the ladies.”

She accepted the hand he held out to her and let him help her down.

At that height, with about seven inches strapped to her feet, she was eyelevel ... kiss level. Her mouth, seductively painted a poppy red to match the dress was a taunting foot from him. Only, he knew if he dared, it wouldn’t be just a kiss.

It would be his hands twisting into the thin straps keeping her clothed and twisting until the fabric tore and the whole fucking thing was a crimson puddle around her ankles.

Then he’d just fuck her, right there on the steps, in front of everyone.

“Careful, Captain,” she drawled low enough for his ears only. “You’re going to make me blush.”

“Fuck me,” he breathed.

She bit her lip and brushed past him, close enough that her fingers ghosted the hard crotch of his pants in passing. Smokey eyes bore into his, mercilessly devious.

“Oh, I intend to. All night.”

Then she was sweeping into the waiting arms of her family as they flocked around her, closing her into their circle and whisking her deeper into the room.

James remained there, back to the room as he struggled to regulate the blood away from his cock before he poked someone’s eye out.

“That was close.” Nicholas wandered over to his side. “Things were getting dangerously R-rated there for a second.”

“Shut up.”

Nicholas smirked. “Was going to break out the hose, but you might have liked that.”

Despite himself, James laughed. “Prick.”

He turned to watch Cora’s progression through the room. Someone was constantly grabbing her and hugging her and passing her along to someone else. But she seemed to enjoy it; her smile was a blinding force straining across her face.

The room had been set up with tables around the edges and the middle left open for dancing. A live band sat patiently waiting for their cue at the head while a whole buffet was set in six long lines along the final wall.

The simplicity ended there.

He hadn’t noticed during his entrance or after, but he took a moment to study the rows of intertwined streamers of burgundy and gold looped across the ceiling and contained in a complex bundle of balloons and shiny ribbons. Everything held the same coloring, the deep mystery of dark purple with the classy glitter of gold. It sat in slender glass vases of water on the table tops, and accented the drapes over the French doors leading out into the gardens. No artificial lights were lit, the whole room was lit up by candlelight, creating an almost mystical sensation.

It suited Cora.

“I’m here!”

Deidra burst into the room in a flurry of burgundy and panic. Her heels skidded as she threw herself down the steps. Nicholas barely caught her before she could break an ankle.

Cursing and panting, she righted herself, dragging the insanely revealing scraps of fabric practically falling off her back into place. She fluffed a hand through sleek, black strands and dragged something out of her ass crack.

“Christ,” she muttered, palming her own breasts and adjusting them more properly behind the triangle cut of her bodice, a bodice that plunged partway to her navel. “That’s the last time I dress in a cab. Bastard almost ran us into a pole twice.”

“Need help?” Nicholas muttered, watching her hands lift and jiggle her boobs into place.

Deidra’s head came up. Her feline gaze met his. One eyebrow lifted as she took him in from head to toe with unhurried interest.

“You can help me out of it later.” She checked her watch. “In three hours. But you only have twenty minutes so you better be ready.”

Just like that, she pushed past them and hurried to intercept Cora.

Neither he nor Nicholas moved for several long minutes.

“Did ... did that just happen?” Nicholas mumbled with wonderment.

James shrugged. “She’s a bit ... older, isn’t she?”

Nicholas squinted thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll like older?”

That conversation ended when Elise took the stage, looking more put together as she peered over the crowd. She smiled and waved to a few people before bringing the mic to her mouth.

“Thank you all for coming.” Her voice boomed over the room. “It’s been too long since we were all under the same roof.” She paused as murmurs of agreement filled the room. “It’s been an exciting year for many of us. Gloria and Thomas had their little girl. Uncle Paul got released from prison. Glen and Troy made their first hit.” She nodded as claps and cheers went up. “So, it’s truly a pleasure to add our special news to the list, to announce that our lovely Cora has married the dear Captain James Crow.” She beamed as the applause grew louder. “Giovanni and I couldn’t be happier. He’s an amazing man, and he’s already been properly warned not to break her heart.”

“I think that’s your cue,” Nicholas muttered when the laughter began and Cora started getting nudged towards the stage.

James hesitated, rebelling at the idea of being in perfect position to get shot at.

But Cora was ascending the steps. She made her way to where her mother waited with open arms and stepped into them.

James muttered a curse, and a silent prayer, before making his way forward.

No one shot at him.

Not even when he reached the top and Elise took his hand. She gave it a squeeze.

Comforting.

Supportive.

All the things he didn’t deserve considering how he’d treated her.

She put Cora’s hand into his, held them together a full second, then released and stepped aside, leaving them alone before the horde.

“Do we wave?” he muttered from the corner of his mouth.

“I have no idea,” Cora replied through a massive, Beauty Queen Pageant smile. “Did you prepare the speech?”

James bulked. All pretenses of order and calm vanished into panic.

“What? No!”

Cora peeked at him from the corner of her eyes and grinned mischievously.

She laughed.

“Witch!”

With a playful growl he pulled her to him and kissed that delicious mouth, unable to contain himself any longer. He bit her lip until she moaned and went lax in his arms.

The crowd erupted on a flurry of whistles and cat calls, but neither noticed.

“I’m going to ruin you later,” he vowed against her hot skin.

She made a palpable sound he took as agreement.

Then Elise was there, touching them both on the backs and urging them apart.

“Let’s keep it PG-13, hmm?” she whispered for their ears only as she led them across the stage to a section off to one side containing a long table cloaked in white.

There were only two chairs, both draped in burgundy covers. James pulled out one for Cora before accepting the other for himself.

The applause continued until they were both seated. The band was struck and the first soothing note of flutes and violins sang through the room.

He didn’t understand the purpose of being on a pedestal while everyone else mingled and enjoyed themselves.

“What now?” he asked the woman next to him.

“This is it,” she murmured. “We wait until everyone has eaten, then we start the first dance.”

James stiffened. “Dance?”

Cora peered at him. “Yeah, can you dance?”

James hissed through his teeth and shrugged. “Well, I guess you’re going to have to find out.”

Her answer was a gentle shoulder bump.

An older woman was led to the table, stooped in half over a cane and clutching the hand of a teenage girl.

Cora leaped to her feet and scrambled down to meet them.

“Grandma Sage!”

The woman pushed herself up enough to accept Cora’s embrace.

“I can’t believe you came.” Cora pulled back to wipe her eyes. “I was going to come around and see everyone.”

The woman shook her graying head. “You are the bride. You let them come to you.”

Cora sniffled and gripped the arm the girl wasn’t holding. “I’m so happy to see you. How was your flight? Oh!” She seemed to remember James. “Grandma, this is my husband, James.”

James left his seat and came down to stand at Cora’s side.

“Ms. Sage.”

The woman squinted up at him through cloudy eyes. “You are the pirate.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Pirate.” She spat the word with a dramatic huff. “You don’t look like a pirate.”

James struggled with keeping his features polite. “I thought I’d go without the wooden leg and parrot tonight.”

The girl giggled, but quickly covered it behind a cough.

“Pirate,” grandma Sage muttered again. “Better keep an eye on this one,” she told Cora. “He looks like trouble.”

Cora bit her lip. “Oh, I intend to, a very close eye.”

Grandma Sage grunted, then motioned the girl to lead her away.

“I don’t think she liked my profession,” James mused.

Cora took his arm and threaded it with hers. “She was seduced by a pirate once, so she claims. He broke her heart.”

“Ah!” James said as it finally made sense.

“She’s worried you’ll break mine.”

The soft way she said it had his head tilting in her direction. Her gaze met his, the question in them baffling him.

“I shouldn’t have yours to break,” he reminded her quietly.

He saw the moment his words seemed to pierce through her, saw the eruption of pain before her lashes slipped into place and she turned her head away.

“Cora?”

She didn’t look at him, and when he ghosted a feather light caress down her arm, she flinched and drew the arm closer to her body.

“I’m going to do a round,” she rasped out. “I won’t be long.”

He watched her go, watched her melt into the crowd. He remained where he was wondering what the hell just happened.

“Women are so fickle.” Sylvester took the spot Cora had evacuated, a small plate of those shrimp paste things in hand. “You throw them a lavish party and they still aren’t happy.”

James hadn’t seen the man since that dinner, but his face had recovered. It was still too many sharp angles, but it wasn’t broken.

Unfortunately.

“What do you want?”

James turned his head back to where Cora was surrounded by a group of women all laughing and admiring her dress.

“We’re not so different,” Sylvester assessed. “We both want the same thing, in this case, Cora’s wellbeing.”

“If that’s a threat...”

“Jesus, no!” The man laughed. “She’s my niece. I love her. But I know how stubborn she can be. How willful, you know?”

James said nothing.

Part of him wasn’t even listening.

Whatever the man wanted, he would eventually either come out and say it, or he’d fuck off. James didn’t have the patience to indulge him when he was still trying to work out what that business was with Cora. Was she implying she loved him?

No.

She couldn’t possibly be so stupid.

She knew what was at risk.

She knew how all this would end.

He hadn’t lied to her.

He hadn’t made any fucking promises of forever.

Once Bishop was dead, her father would be next. Would she still love him then?

Would she still harbor romantic notions of them buying a house and having babies?

Could she stand the sight of him when he dismantled her family right in front of her?

What the fuck was she thinking?

Sylvester’s low babble of useless words broke into James’s train of thought. It reminded him the other man was still there, a fucking bee in his ear. It was enough to make James want to crush him where he stood.

“Go away.”

Sylvester, mouth open mid-sentence, paused. He blinked at James like he couldn’t fathom if he’d heard him correctly or not.

“I’m trying to be friendly, Crow. The way I see it, this sinking boat you’re on, you could use all the friends you can get.”

“We’re not friends,” James cut in. “We will never be friends. Now, fuck off.”

A flash of red stole his attention. The flutter danced out of the corner of his eye and snuck out of sight, urging him to follow it.

Cora was in the arms of a burly man, being spun under his arm, making the train of her dress billow out around her ankles.

She laughed, a beautiful trill that masked all other sounds in the room. It washed over him in a wave of warm ripples, reminding him of a lagoon he’d found one in the Mediterranean where the water had been an endless blue and the sands white. But the water when it had rolled in over his ankles, had been this warm, welcoming seduction.

That was Cora’s laugh.

It lured.

It seduced a man’s senses.

In another life, if they were two different people, he would have fought to keep her. He would have spent every night worshipping her and every day longing for longer nights. He would have taken her around the world. He would have taught her how to swim in the clearest waters. He would have happily been her slave.

But that would never happen. They were never meant to be together. Too much had happened, so much more still would. She would always be his greatest loss and he would be her greatest curse. That was how their paths would end.

“Captain?” Elise appeared at his side. “Is everything all right?”

He blinked away from the woman consuming his very soul and turned to the older version of her.

There was genuine concern in her smile, despite what he’d done, despite the way he’d treated her. She was still worried about him. He wondered what that made the Harris women.

“Did I hurt you?”

Elise shook her head. “No, Captain. But I’m worried about you.”

James frowned. “Me? Why?”

She slipped alongside him so their arms touched. “Because you’re staring at my daughter as if watching a Greek tragedy.”

“Just trying to understand what’s supposed to happen next.”

She hummed softly. “That’s one of the great mysteries in life.”

The man holding Cora released her and bowed deep at the waist before rounding his attention to another woman.

“That’s Uncle Arty,” Elise said. “Hasn’t been with a woman in his life, but they love him. He can also forge just about any legal document you put in front of him. The woman he’s dancing with is Connie. I’m never sure who she is exactly to the family, but she’s an expert on poisons.”

“So, stay away from Connie,” James mumbled.

Elise laughed. “Come.” Her arm snaked through his. “I’ll give you the inside scoop on everyone.”

James squinted down at her. “Even the dirty stuff?”

She laughed harder. “Especially the dirty stuff.”

He let her take him around the room, pointing people out or motioning them over for him to meet. There were so many that, by the time she introduced a new one, he’d already forgotten the last. But Elise relaxed his mind, pulling it away from all tomorrow held for a few hours as she had him in stitches with stories too horrible to be real, yet the way she told them, he was practically in tears.

“What are you two up to?”

Cora found them at a corner table sometime later, bent over their drinks laughing like a pair of loons.

“Just sharing stories.” Elise cleared her throat. “How are you?”

Cora shrugged. “Exhausted, but I think Dad was looking for you.”

Elise clicked her tongue. “Probably wants me to charm Ronald again. I seem to be the only one that man likes.”

They watched her leave.

Then it was just them and a wall of vibrating tension.

“Cora—”

“Don’t.” She drew in a breath, still not meeting his gaze. “I know.”

He caught her waist before she could even consider walking away. He pulled her to him until she stood between his knees, her back to his chest. He turned his head into the side of her face.

He sighed. “How can you love me, Cora? After everything I’ve done. Why would you?”

“I just do.”

The confession punched him in the sternum. It knocked the wind out of him, the sense ... the fucking misery. For a split second, a weight shifted on his chest and he could almost breathe.

But the boulder returned with crushing force, pinning him to a wall of terror. It grounded into his chest until the pain nearly doubled him over.

“James.”

He caught the hand she reached towards him. The fingers were so small in his crushing grasp.

“No, not here.” He pushed to his feet. “We’ll talk later.”

“What’s there to talk about? I love you. You can’t make that go away. I love you, James.”

Each time she said it was like a jagged knife piercing a little deeper into his heart.

“Stop it.”

His hands found either side of her face and he forced her to look at him, hoping that once she had a clear view of the monster he was, she’d come to her senses.

All it served to do was send him catapulting head first into her eyes and the peace she was offering him.

“You can’t love me, you stupid girl.” She’d even stolen his snarl so he was pleading with her like some idiot. “I can’t be loved. I am not worthy of it, especially not yours. I’m a monster, Cora.”

“I’ve lived with monsters my whole life. I’m not scared.”

He kissed her.

Fuck if he knew why.

But he needed her to stop speaking.

“Don’t do this,” he begged against her swollen mouth. “Don’t steal the only thing I have left.”

“You don’t need it. Let it go. I promise I will never leave you.”

God, it was right there, the light, an escape from the darkness. All it would cost him was his hate, his vengeance. The things that kept him going.

“No.” He stepped away from her. “You can’t take this from me. Not this. Annie won’t be so easily forgotten.”

“Do you think Annie would want you to suffer like this?” she shot at him. “Do you think she would want you to throw away a chance at happiness for something that won’t give you any peace?”

“I will have peace once everyone who hurt her is dead.”

“Then what? Will you be happy then? Will you sleep better? Will you find another woman who will love you the way I do?”

He was saved from answering by De Marco’s arrival with two other men.

“Things looked so serious over here,” he remarked coolly. “We thought we’d check to make sure everything was fine.”

“Fine,” James muttered.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He looked to his daughter. “Those don’t look like happy tears.”

“It’s fine, Daddy. Just a disagreement.”

She leaned over and brushed a kiss to kiss cheek.

De Marco smiled for her. “Go enjoy your night. I need a word with your intended.”

“Husband,” James corrected tightly.

De Marco narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see. Go,” he urged Cora when she hesitated.

With a fleeting glance at James, Cora left him.

“I don’t have the patience for whatever bullshit you’re about to—”

The fist burned a hole in James’s gut, ripping through fat and muscle until he was sure it collided with his spine. The pain nearly sent him to his knees. The world swam temporarily into darkness before shrieking back into focus with a vengeance.

De Marco was holding him up in an embrace when James rolled back to consciousness, cradling him with one hand patting his back .

“You think you can make my little girl cry and I wouldn’t know about it, Crow?” De Marco laughed like they’d said something funny. The two behind him, blocking them from view of the room, cackled as well. “Now, smile like we’re having a friendly conversation.”

James didn’t.

He didn’t think he could without throwing up.

De Marco’s smile slipped into a cast iron sneer. “You have very little power here, Captain. And even less purpose. Your only job is to keep my girl happy. Making her cry on her night ... I have half I mind to take you out back and beat some sense into you.”

Christ, the man had broken his spleen. James was sure of it.

“That pain you’re feeling right now, imagine that throughout your entire body the next time I see a single tear in Cora’s eyes.”

He patted James on the shoulder and stalked off with his two watch dogs in tow.

“That looked painful.” Deidra slinked out of the shadows and took his side.

James groaned. “If you want to hit me, you’re going to have to stand in line.”

Deidra laughed. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t hit people.” She wiggled five long, agile fingers between them. “Fragile bones.”

“Threatening won’t work either.”

“I don’t threaten.” She hissed through her teeth and propped a hip against the table. “I don’t see the purpose. Kill the bastard, or don’t bother, right? Why give them a chance?”

Eyeing her warily, James lowered himself into a chair, dignity be damned. “What do you want then?”

“Nothing.” Yet she plopped down in the chair Elise had vacated. “Just taking a break from having my ass squeezed, and you looked like you needed a friend.”

James snorted. “Why does everyone suddenly want to be my friend?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to be, I said you looked like you could use one.”

“Well, I don’t.” He reached for his glass and muttered a curse when he found it already empty.

“You do, actually, you see, you’re a helpless little guppy just swimming around like the idiot you are in a tank full of sharks. It’s never wise to alert the predators to you.”

“I just had my insides rearranged, cut the bullshit.”

“There’s a shipment coming in the day after tomorrow worth several mill in pure Columbian cocaine that, to a proper buyer, could easily be tripled.”

James stared at her. “Why are you telling me this?”

Deidra met his gaze squarely. “It doesn’t hit port until Friday, and I know for a fact at least four of their men are down right now with a bad case of food poisoning.”

Intrigued, but mostly wary, James sat back. “Again, why are you telling me?”

“Take it.” Intense green eyes bore into his. “A free payout. For a crew your size, you could overrun theirs in a matter of minutes. I have everything you need to get on and off without breaking a sweat.”

“In exchange for what?”

She broke him from her spell and flicked a glance across the room. He didn’t need to follow to know exactly what she was looking at — Cora.

“You leave and never come back.”

James chuckled. “So, this is a bribe.”

Deidra shrugged. “Why put a label on a good thing? I think your crew would agree, a cool million each outweighs whatever reason you might have for staying here. Besides, I have it from a good source that you still owe Corbett your last shipment. You’re losing money on that, aren’t you? This could easily make up for it.”

“Not interested.” James pushed to his feet. “But thanks for the tip.”

He left the woman glowering after him and went in search of Nicholas. The man was at the meat table, eyeing a bin of barbequed chicken legs.

“Enjoy yourself?”

Nicholas looked up, expression utterly clueless. “Have you tried these? I swear they sprinkled everything with crack.”

James didn’t know whether to laugh, or punch the guy in the arm for being the worst bodyguard on the planet. He opted for neither.

“I need you to get some intel on a cargo ship set to port on Friday carrying a sick crew.”

Nicholas stopped his chewing and frowned. “That’s a bit specific.”

“It’s hauling product that may prove financially beneficial to us.”

Wiping his fingers on a napkin, Nicholas reached for his phone.

“Not here.” James cast a glance in the direction of the woman and table he’d left behind, but Deidra was talking to two men who seemed more interested in looking down her dress. “Quietly somewhere else, and keep it to yourself until we know more.”

Plate left abandoned, Nicholas hurried from the room.

“Captain.”

Elise found him with Cora in tow. She stood small and distant just behind her mother’s shoulder. The sight of her looking away from him as though the sight of him was abhorrent twisted his already brutalized gut.

“It’s almost time to eat,” Elise was saying. “I just need you and Cora to return to the table and—”

An explosion erupted before she could finish. It cascaded through the room with the tinkling of glass as all the windows overlooking the terrace shattered in single wave of destruction. The commotion had people scrambling to their feet. Voices rose. Feet pounded. Chaos ensued as people tried to get out of the line of fire.

James grabbed Elise and Cora.

“Get under the table. Now!”

He shoved both to the ground and stepped around them, blocking them from view as he marched forward.

Dark shapes formed beyond the ruined panes, bulky silhouettes that took shape upon contact from the ballroom lights. Candles glinted off armor and thick helmets with their visors pulled down. It gleamed off the barrels of no less than six semi-automatic machine guns aimed at the room.

They opened fire.