Sweet Sin, page 5
“I met up with a few hit men while I was in the slammer, but they tended to keep to themselves.”
“That’s because they’re told to stay out of trouble so we can get them sprung as soon as possible.”
“Savannah…” He shakes his head. “I knew there was something about you, but I never pegged you for a gun maul.”
“Because I’m not a gun maul!” I curl my hands into fists. “I wanted out of this. But the problem is I’m family. I was supposed to…”
I can’t say the words. This was right after college, and I honestly thought it was over.
But the McAllisters have other ideas.
“So this isn’t the Bianchis,” he says.
“No. My grandfather is the head of the organization. He’d never let anything happen to me.”
“What problems do the McAllisters have with you?”
I pause. I hate to even say the words, especially to Falcon, but I have no choice. “I was supposed to marry Miles McAllister.”
Falcon’s jaw goes rigid. “What?” he demands through gritted teeth.
“It was five years ago, after I got out of school. They wanted me when I turned eighteen, but my father said no. He figured they’d find someone else to marry Miles to in the meantime, but come college graduation, there was Declan McAllister, ready to collect.”
“And you said no.”
“Of course I did. I want out of this business forever, and if I marry into a rival family, I’ll never be free. Plus, I hate Miles McAllister. He’s a horrible human being.”
Falcon draws in a breath and lets it out slowly.
“But this is all speculation,” I continue. “Maybe it’s not the McAllisters.”
Except I know it is.
The McAllisters are the only other family in Texas as powerful as my own.
And they’re into drugs big time. Drugs and human trafficking.
I suppose it should be a consolation that my family’s only into drugs.
It’s not.
“I thought they were after me. I made many enemies on the inside, and I should have been more prepared.”
“They weren’t here for you.”
“I know. Still, if I’d been more prepared, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I don’t have any weapons stocked in the pool house. That changes today.”
“You’re not supposed to have any—”
“Because I’m a parolee, I know. I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed, Vannah. I’m going to protect you. I’m going to protect my family. And damn it, I’m going to protect myself. I didn’t survive eight years of hell just to be taken out by some derelict.” His gaze falls on a cabinet above the refrigerator. “I’m also thinking the no-drinking thing stops today too. I could use a fucking bourbon.”
I close my eyes and inhale. “So could I, Falcon. I can’t believe this just happened.”
“Before we do anything, though, we’re getting you to a doctor.”
“I’m fine now. The bleeding’s stopped.”
“Still, you don’t want to get an infection. That needs to be dressed up proper.” He grabs my hands, careful to avoid the cuts. “But that’s not the only reason. You were in shock.”
“I’m not anymore.”
“I don’t care. That cop making eyes at you was right.”
“Making eyes at me?”
“You didn’t see it?”
“Falcon, I wouldn’t be able to pick either of them out of a lineup. They were blurs to me. Everything is a blur to me. Everything except you. Here. Now.” I melt against him.
He kisses the top of my head. “Come on. We’re going to the ER.”
“No. Please.” I reach up, caress his cheek with my left hand. “I want to stay here with you. Take me to bed. Please.”
“As tempting as that is, neither of us is in the right headspace for it.”
“Please,” I say again, murmuring into his chest.
“Fuck,” he growls, and then he crushes our mouths together.
In the next moment, I’m swept into his arms, our lips still fused, his tongue devouring me. A moment later, we’re in his bedroom, our clothes strewn on the floor. He’s on me, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
He fills me, completes me, and gives me what I need. A good hard fuck. A fuck that says we’re both strong. We’re both here.
We’re both alive.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced being held at gunpoint, and it no doubt won’t be the last. It was the first time, though, that I went on the attack for someone else.
And I’d do it again.
He pistons his hips, moving them up, down, around, and with each thrust, his cock melds farther into my body, farther into my soul.
It’s a fuck. A basic fuck.
Yet it’s so much more than that. With each plunge of his dick into my pussy, part of this horrid day gets washed away.
But only part.
He pushes into me harder and harder, and when his pubic hair grazes my clit, I erupt into a shattering climax.
He growls against my neck, the perspiration on his chest making us slide together as if we were drenched in oil, and then he releases, coming with me.
We lie there for a moment, and then he rolls off me.
I unscrunch my hand from around his white sheets, and—
“I’m sorry.”
“About what?” he murmurs.
“My hand. I grabbed the sheet, and there are a few streaks of blood.”
Falcon laughs softly. “You think I care? I can afford to buy a new sheet every day for the rest of my life, Savannah. Fuck.”
“Okay. I’m still sorry.”
“I’m not.” He stretches his arms above his head. “I know I originally told you no, but it turns out that was exactly what I needed.”
“Told you so.”
“Yeah.” He rubs his forehead. “You did. But you’re not getting off that easily. Come on. Get up. We’re going to the ER.”
“I don’t want to explain everything to them.”
“Who says you have to?”
“Of course I have to. How else will I explain how I went into shock? Normal people don’t just go into shock at the drop of a hat.”
He sighs. “Yeah. I didn’t think of that.”
“I’m fine. I swear I am. But…”
“But what?”
I look around the room, at our clothes strewn on the floor, at what this place—Falcon’s place—now represents. “I need to call my parents. I need to speak to my father about this. He’ll want to retaliate.”
“Is that what you want?”
I snuggle next to him, place my leg over his. “Yes…and no.”
He nods. “I get it.”
And he does. He had to retaliate in prison to keep his status as a leader. As Savage. But he probably would’ve rather stayed under the radar and done his time.
They don’t let you do that in prison, though. I’ve known about prison long before I became a parole officer. I understand the unwritten rules. You’re either strong or weak inside, and you’d best decide at the outset.
“Tell you what,” Falcon says. “We’ll go to the pharmacy and get some decent bandages and antibacterial ointment. But if that shows any bit of infection in the next day or two—or if you feel like you’re going into shock again—we’re getting your pretty ass to a doctor, you got it?”
I nod.
“When do you want to call your folks?”
“I need to do it now, while everything’s fresh in my mind. They’re going to want to know the police are involved.”
What I don’t tell Falcon is that my folks—or at least my grandfather—most likely already know.
And they’re either plotting their revenge…
Or they’re in on it.
9
FALCON
Nine p.m.
Savannah and I were supposed to have dinner. I’m sure neither of us could stomach food now, but we have to eat at some point. Sustenance is necessary for strength. I forced the shitty prison food down my gullet, taking seconds when I could, just so I had the fuel I needed to keep myself—body and mind—strong.
I leave the bedroom to give Savannah some privacy to talk to her parents. I head straight to the basement, which is still unfinished since I wasn’t here to supervise anything. Against the wall, though, is my metal gun safe. A few of these pieces are going to the pool house. When Savannah’s feeling up to it, I want to take her to the safe house as well, just to check it out.
We may need to use it.
And now…what I’ve been putting off.
A call to Leif Ramsey.
But only if he has the same number he’s always had. Who knows? He’s been overseas, had several tours of duty. He may be a completely different person.
He probably is.
Then again, so am I.
I grab my phone when it buzzes in my hand.
It’s Lance from the tattoo place.
“Hey, Lance,” I say into the phone. “What are you calling at this hour for?”
“Falcon, I got some more information.”
“Let me guess. Savannah Gallo is related to the Bianchi crime family.”
Silence for a moment. Then, “You’re still going to pay me, right?”
I let out a scoff. “I ordered the information. It’s not your fault I got it before you did.”
“Isn’t it? What sources do you have?”
“Savannah herself. But I want everything you found anyway. Send it to me in an encrypted file.”
“You got it. It’s on its way.”
“In the meantime, give me the basics.”
“This line safe?”
“It’s a brand new phone, but hell if I know.”
“I’d feel better if you came to the shop.”
I sigh. “Fine. Tell me this much, if you can. Did the name Miles McAllister come up in your research?”
Again, silence.
All the answer I need.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can in the morning.” I end the call.
If Lance won’t talk over the phone, this must be information that’s dangerous to have.
I’m pretty sure my phone isn’t tapped. It’s brand new, but from now on, I’ll be using burners just in case.
Damn.
I’m out of prison, but I don’t feel any safer than I did on the inside.
That’s not how it’s supposed to be.
I got involved with my parole officer.
Sure, it doesn’t say a lot for our ethics, but man…who should be safer?
She’s works in law enforcement. She should be clean as anything. Certainly not any reason why someone would come after either of us.
Should have kept my dick in my pants for sure.
But I didn’t, and I can’t bring myself to regret it.
Savannah Gallo has the tightest little cunt I’ve ever been in, and I’m not in any mood to give up fucking her.
What if I’d gotten the info from Lance sooner?
Nope.
I’d still be fucking her.
And I’d still be enjoying the hell out of it.
I head into the bedroom. Savannah is still on the phone, and her eyes are sunken and sad but still dry. I don’t want to disturb her, so I whisper, “I’m going to take a shower.”
She nods and continues her conversation.
I step into my huge master bathroom and turn on my shower, twisting the knob for water and then for steam.
A steam shower sounds like heaven after what went down earlier.
I need to cleanse every bit of this day from my pores.
Except fucking Savannah, of course. But I’ll do that again soon.
I still wish she’d let me take her to the ER, but I understand her reluctance. I don’t want to recount this story either.
Which reminds me. I need to call my father.
I pick the phone up from where I tossed it on top of the toilet and dial him.
“Falcon?”
“Yeah. You got a minute?”
“Sure.”
“Raven doing okay?”
“She is. She’s looking real good too.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. Because I need a favor.”
“Sure, son.”
“I need you to quash a story that may be going to the local newspapers, and because it’s us, it might be going to the national outlets.”
“For God’s sake, Falcon—”
“It’s not me. I swear.” I relay what happened as my father listens intently on the other side of the line.
“Criminy,” he says.
“I know, right?”
“Your parole officer, Fal? Really?”
I huff into the phone. “That’s what you got out of the story? We could have both been killed, Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Believe me, I came close to losing one child, and I’m not in the mood to lose any of you.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “This isn’t your fault, Falcon, and I’m sorry I assumed it was. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks, Dad. I owe you.”
“Not a problem. Are you okay, though? You and she both?”
“We’re handling it. The cops were here, and they’ll be sniffing around because of who I am. I’m not sure they know who she is yet, but it won’t take long.”
“You’re right about that. I’m on it, so ease your mind.”
“Thanks,” I say again before ending the call.
My shower’s been running for ten minutes, and it’s good and steamy.
I step in and inhale, waiting for all the problems to release from my shoulders.
They don’t.
But at least the water feels good as it pelts my sore muscles.
10
SAVANNAH
“You sure it was the McAllisters?” Dad asks me for the tenth time.
“No. I’m not a hundred percent sure, but who else could it be?”
“You didn’t recognize either of the men?”
“Only the one, but just because I saw him waiting tables at a local Italian place.”
Shit. I have to call Jordan next.
“All right. I’m going to get in touch with your grandfather right away. This won’t be tolerated, Savannah.”
“Just don’t hurt anyone.”
He sighs. “You know I can’t make that promise.”
“Yeah, but you can’t blame me for trying.”
“I think you should come home, Sav,” he says.
I knew that was coming.
It would be so easy for me to go running home to Daddy. I did it before, the only other time something like this happened.
It was Miles himself that time, and he didn’t have a gun.
What’s different about this time?
Why does he care?
Or…was it even Miles or the McAllisters?
Does my grandfather have other enemies?
What a dumbass question. Of course he does. He’s a fucking mob boss.
“I can’t,” I say. “You know that’s not the answer.”
“Your mother and I understand how you’re feeling. I got into this of my own volition, but your mother—and you—were born into it. I’m sorry for that, Savannah. We’ve already lost so much.”
He’s thinking about my two brothers.
Vincent Junior, who left the country ten years ago and is living under an alias somewhere to avoid the family’s wrath.
And Michael.
Michael, who was killed by rival gunfire.
To prove some kind of ridiculous point.
They say it’s not personal. It’s business.
But when you kill a young man, how can that not be personal?
Michael did what Grandpa asked of him. He married Elizabeth McAllister, Miles’s cousin. He wasn’t in love with her, nor she with him.
And he still ended up as a casualty.
“I miss Vinny and Mike,” I say softly.
“We all do, Sav,” Dad says. “And I will not allow you to end up like the two of them.”
“At least Vinny’s alive,” I say.
“As far as we know. We don’t even know what country he’s in.”
“Italy or Spain. Those are the languages he speaks.”
“Maybe. You don’t think I’ve scoured every Italian- and Spanish-speaking country trying to find him? He disappeared into thin air, Sav. It guts me. In a way it’s worse than Mikey. At least we know he’s gone. At peace.”
Yeah.
That doesn’t make me feel any better at all. To me, they’re both gone, and I sure as hell don’t want to be next.
I don’t want to live in a foreign country, constantly wondering if a rival family will find me. Never talking to anyone I know again.
And I don’t want to leave here.
I don’t want to leave…
I don’t want to leave Falcon Bellamy.
I’m not in love with him. That’s impossible. And even if I were, he’s certainly not in love with me.
We’ve known each other for a week.
And what a week.
He gave his sister a bone marrow donation.
I lost a friend.
Not a great friend, but still a friend.
And another friend is dating a man I almost killed.
“I’ve got to go, Dad.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’m going to get some security for you.”
“I told you, I don’t want—”
“Yeah. I know you’ve told me. And I let my love for you cloud my judgment. If you’d had security, today wouldn’t have happened, Savannah. So yeah, there’s going to be security. The detail will be unintrusive. You won’t even know they’re there. But I’ll know, and it will ease my mind.”
I sigh. “Fine, Daddy.’
Because he’s ultimately right. If I hadn’t been so hardheaded about accepting security in the first place, today probably wouldn’t have happened.
I wouldn’t have come close to killing a man.
A bad man, but still a person, and I don’t know how I could live with that.
“Goodbye, sweetheart.”
“Bye.” I end the call and pull up Jordan’s information.
Here goes.
“Sav?” Jordan says, sounding breathless.
“Yeah, it’s me. You okay?”
“I’m getting ready to go to bed. I’ve got an early meeting. What’s up?”
