REMEDY: A Mafia Romance (Return to Us Trilogy Book 3) (19 page)

She sucks my finger and stares into my eyes.

"Good girl." I rotate the wheel back to vertical.

As soon as I free her wrists, her arms drop around my neck, and I take her weight.

"How do you feel?"

Her head lolls back to offer me a goofy grin. "Unbelievable." She slurs before she collapses onto me again.

I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. "Good. You're a natural."

***

Ivy

We lie on the bed, a tangled mess of limbs and sable chenille sheets. My head rests on his bicep, my vision filled with the view off his bare abs. My fingers dance over them one by one. Sand waves carved into the desert of his body.

I'm in awe.

This man loves me—fiercely and without judgment. Plus, he looks like Zeus and a male stripper were thrown into a blender and pulsed until he poured out into a tumbler for my drinking pleasure. Win-win for me.

"How long did it take you to learn that?" My worn-out voice floats through our sexified room.

He rolls into me and trickles his fingers along my side.

"Which part? The hatchets or the fucking?" He flashes a lopsided grin.

"Both." He pulls me to his hot torso.

"The hatchets took me years to master, and I practice my skills. The other…" He squeezes me tighter to him.

"What? You're not saying? Were you a virgin the night we got arrested?"

He laughs. "No. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen."

"How old was the girl?"

"Twenty."

"No way! Really?"

"Yeah. I've never looked my age so you can't blame her. I went to a college party, and she assumed I was a student. I
was
a student, but in high school. I wanted to get laid, so I let her believe it."

"Did she ever find out?"

"No. Never saw her again." He strokes my arm with his finger. "Three years later, I met the woman who would shape my entire lifetime."

I snuggle into his chest and sniff his manly scent. "Why do people call you Trip?" My voice is muffled into his pecs.

"Jett gave it to me when we were teenagers. It stands for Triple J, Jacade James Jordan. I kept it as my street name."

"Well at least it's not Merrill." I giggle.

He chuckles and kisses my left shoulder.

"Is Jude's street name Jett?"

"Yep. Can't tell you why."

Hmm. I wonder if he's a jumbo Jett?

"Don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out."

"I'm just attempting to wrap my brain around all of these moving pieces."

"Now's the time to ask."

"Okay. What does Shane do for you? Is he a made man too?"

"No. The military paid for his education. He's strictly security for you and me. He has an idea of what's going on, but no details. He likes it that way."

"Oh. I figured he'd be involved in the organization."

"Nah. He's become a friend, and I wouldn't wish the CSA on a man as solid as Shane."

"What about his wife?" I ask.

"I don't know nor do I ask. You shouldn't either."

"Too late…"

His eyes watch me chew on the side of my bottom lip. "Why does that not surprise me?" He tickles the bare skin of my lower back and kisses the tip of my nose. "We should get to sleep."

"We're sleeping here?"

"Yes, my queen. Shower with me first."

He lays another kiss on my forehead and sits up on the edge of the bed. He rubs his hand through his hair and stretches, poking out his shoulder blades and bringing the panther to life.

I lift my body onto my forearms and focus on his back. Two new orange flames flare from the panther's tongue.

"Did you get new tattoos?" I squint to examine the sharp lines.

He stills and looks back at me over his shoulder. "Yeah."

"Hmm." I'm not going to ask why. He won't tell me anyway, but I have a feeling one is for Viktor and one for Trey. At least there's only two.

I press my chest up to his back and caress the angel and devil on his upper arms. "What do these mean?"

He flexes his guns over his head, and I hang on them like a jungle gym. My hands barely cover half the width of his huge biceps.

"Righteousness and wickedness." He pops each one with his words.

I know the feeling. It's interesting that Slut Ivy and Feminist Ivy haven't been appearing as much lately. I guess they worked it out.

"What about the panther?" I bend and trail my tongue over the panther's claws like I've wanted to do since I first saw it.

"The beast inside." He spins and tackles me to the bed. "Don't piss him off." He growls in my neck.

"I'll try not to."

"Now shower."

"Okay, beast. C'mon."

He takes me again in the shower. He's loving and gentle compared to his rough wheel-of-death treatment earlier tonight. I've never had sex in the shower before, and wet Jacade moving slow and sensual inside me with my back up against the wall feels frickin' fantastic. We come together silently, our mouths open and touching.

After the shower, he wraps me in a plush towel, and we cuddle side-by-side on the bed.

I whisper in his ear, "Carolyn did wrong by you."

He stills and tightens his arm around my back. "What?"

"A mother should protect her child from a vitriolic ass like Leo. She shouldn't have left you to fend for yourself."

He looks down. "It doesn't matter."

"It does. When we went to the trailer, you believed I'd choose to leave. How could you think you could ever lose me?"

Jacade's eyes grow unfocused, and he pauses before responding. I like that he's thoughtful and mindful of his words.

"When I decided to go to college, I left you and my mom behind. If she'd given me any sign of affection—even a hug or a kiss—I would've said no to Bernard. I thought if I was worthy of her, she would've gotten better for me because she loved me. But she didn't, so I gave up on her and left."

"She didn't try to find you?"

"No. I went back every year and got her into rehab, but she kept leaving and going back to the meth. I never got through to her. I ached for a normal mother-son relationship where she told me she was proud of me, and I told her I loved her. But she died an addict. I still carry guilt for abandoning her—and you—when I was eighteen. It felt stupid to come back now and ask you to love me. I guess I feared you would reject me like she did."

"I won't reject you. I want you. No conditions. Even if you push me away again for some irrational reason in your head, I'll take you back. I know you. At your core. And I love you for who you are now, who you were before, and all you've gone through to get to this point."

I run my fingers through his hair. "She did love you, Jacade. She hid you under the stairs because she didn't want the State to take you from her like they did Jude. She was battling a mental illness and using drugs to cope. She wasn't capable of making decisions for herself or for you. You must know by now that people on drugs choose it above everything else. They can't see past the physical addiction even if it hurts their family and destroys their lives."

"Yeah. I get that now. But it's taken me years to come to terms with it."

"However long it takes, I'm here. Until you believe you hang the moon like I believe you do. I'll spend the rest of my life telling you I love you. You're a good man. I was lucky to have caught your eye all those years ago."

"No. I'm the lucky one."

I'm on a roll so I continue, "I never want to hear you say you have nothing to offer again. You're offering me the world. My dreams come true. The other half of my soul. Never call yourself a selfish prick again. That was Leo and the guilt you feel for leaving your mom. I've seen nothing but generosity from you. You've been considerate of my feelings, my safety, for years. You're fiercely loyal to Jude. You help women in need like the Mogul's gals and Amber. By taking the council in a different direction, you show you care about those men and their families. You're selfless and compassionate, fighting to make a difference and leave your mark in this world. That is something very good to offer. Not a selfish prick. Promise me you won't say it anymore. Won't even think it."

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"I won't say or think I have nothing to offer. I'm not a selfish prick."

"Damn straight." My hand rests on the back of his neck. "And promise me there's no video of me masturbating with B.O.B on my couch when we talked on the phone."

He laughs, and I'm glad to see the dimple.

"Should I be jealous of this Bob person?"

"No need to be jealous. He's just my battery-operated boyfriend. Now, is there a video?"

His smile broadens, and his arms squeeze me tight. "There's no video. Your secret's safe with me. Sleep." He leans in and kisses my lips.

"Okay."

Ivy

Jacade hooks his elbow around my neck and smashes my face to his. We're both smiling so wide and laughing so hard, only our tongues and the centers of our lips touch. I lick his taste buds and lean into our prurient kiss. My palm rests on his chest over the letter
I
Viktor carved into his flesh. The scar intended to remind him of my death has turned into a badge of honor for my hero.

Suck on that, Viktor. I'm still here, and you're a lump of boiled bones in Hades.

The elevator doors open to the quiet, empty slate foyer of his penthouse. He scoops my legs from beneath me and marches straight for the bedroom.

"Jacade! Put me down!" He's moving so fast, I can barely get my hands around his neck.

"I have to fuck you. Right now."

"You had me all night!"

"So?"

"Jacade, I'm hungry. Put me down."

He grunts and stops at the kitchen doorway. He sets my feet on the floor and stares at me, his tongue poking out in his cheek like he's battling with the decision to fuck me or feed me.

"I'll make you Trip's eggs," he announces.

Oh good. He chose the feed me first option. "Okay. I'm gonna go freshen up. I won't be long."

"My dick's gonna be long for that ass, so hurry up." He growls and smacks my butt cheek.

I giggle and saunter down the hallway. The three portraits on the wall slow my pace. I stop and stare at the woman looking at the ground with her hair covering her face. The colors and stark composition are so captivating and moving.

"That reminds me." My voices echoes off the corridor walls. "I've been meaning to ask you about the paintings of the woman in your hallway." I walk back to the kitchen and see Jacade standing rigid, a crunched plastic water bottle in his hand.

"Who is she?"

His voice drops an octave. "She's you."

"Me? No way. I don't look like that. She's gorgeous."

"You do. She's how I see you—vulnerable and sexy, brave and confident, a little devil in her angel eyes. Fantastic tits." He licks his lips and leers at my cleavage.

"Uh." He sees me that way?

"She was unattainable, you know—the girl in the paintings." He speaks with irony in his voice as he saunters toward my frozen form. "Forbidden fruit out of reach. But here you are." He takes my hand in his and kisses my wrist. "Mine to touch and taste and infinitely more exquisite in the flesh than in my fantasy."

My mouth drops open and my face heats. Wowza.

"Wow. That's… Why me?"

He shrugs. "Why do you love your favorite song?"

"I don't know. I can't put my finger on it, I just do."

"Exactly. There's just something about you." His crooked smile melts my heart. "Go get cleaned up. You're gonna love my eggs, then I'm gonna make love to you." He reaches for a frying pan hanging on a rack over the stove.

That might be the first time he's said
make love
instead of
fuck
to me.

"Okay."

I wander down the hall in a daze, examining the paintings from a new perspective. I'd assume most women would be disturbed he had an artist paint me—mostly naked—in three seductive poses. I like the idea of him admiring me this way. He might stop here after a rigorous run on his treadmill, perspiration trailing down his abs, and reach under his basketball shorts to stroke his stiff dick. With each tug, he would gaze at my cleavage and my bare midriff, aching to touch me in the flesh but knowing he couldn't.

"Ivy?"

"Yeah?" I glance over my shoulder to him in the kitchen.

"Get moving." He gestures to the bedroom.

"Oh right."

Sorry, Dr. J. I was envisioning you wanking off to these images and spuming me with your semen.

I enter the master bedroom and take in the dizzying view of the giant wheel against the vast blue lake. Virulent storm clouds are rolling in, and we'll probably get rain and wind, but it's not cold enough yet for snow. Inevitably, ice will form on the surface of the water, but the mighty ships in the harbor will break it into floating shards of glass.

A polygon of light shines under the partially open bathroom door. Did Sheryl leave it on?

Squish
!

The area rug leading to the master bath is soaking wet. Water seeps over my shoes and between my toes.

"Hey, Jacade? I think a pipe broke in the bathroom!"

"What?" he hollers from the kitchen.

I tiptoe to the door and push it open with two fingers.

Pink water coats the ivory tile floor of Jacade's luxurious bathroom.

The faucet is on. The water is running down the counter. Red water.

I need to turn the water off.

I take one step closer to the sink, and my toes submerge deeper in the cold water.

What is that?

Is that a… Oh my god. Is it a head?

No, no, no!

It can't be.

No! Please! Help!

What do I do?

Hide!

I drop to the floor.

Bloody water splashes my arms.

Oh god. I'm crawling in blood.

Run!

Where do I go? Where am I?

A horrific scream pierces my brain.

Who's screaming?

The walls scream.

The water screams.

A vortex of screams gobbles me up.

***

Jacade

Ivy's petrifying shriek clangors in my eardrums.

I race to her, pulling my pistol from my hip holster.

"Ahh!" Terror scratches her voice. She's clambering around on the floor like she's blind. Maroon liquid spittles onto her alabaster thighs.

I race to her and grab her in my arms. She screams louder and wrenches away like a frightened cat.

Holy shit.

Bloody water… running from the sink.

A bisected cranium floats in the basin.

Fuck.

Vacuous eyes. Cleaved brainstem swaying in the imbrued fluid.

Fucking hell.

Bernard's head.

I squeeze her tighter to hold her down. "Shh! Shh! I've got you."

Her screams change from incoherent yelling to loud, frantic chants of "No!"

I swoop Ivy into my arms and aim my gun at the door. She rocks and shakes. I cover left and right in the hallway. Looks clear.

"No, no, no…" She curls in on herself as I carry her to the couch.

I squat and grab her hands. "It's all right. I've got you. Try to calm down."

She closes her eyes and trembles.

I punch the keypad on my burner phone. Shane answers on the first ring.

"Penthouse. 911. Bring Jett."

I squeeze her neck. "Eyes on me."

She peeks up at me with terror in her eyes.

"Listen, you're in shock, but we're sitting ducks until we're sure no one's here. Can you hold it together while we check the place?"

"Yessss…" Her bottom lip quivers.

Shit.

Fuck.

I pull the pistol from my ankle and hand it to Ivy. "Stay close. Shoot anything that moves. Got it?" I stare into her eyes.

She clutches the gun in her hands and nods.

Ivy's back stays glued to mine as we search the living room and kitchen.

Guest bedroom. Clear.

Closets. Clear.

No intruders or any other parts of Bernard's physiology.

Thank fucking god.

We step into the gym.

Ivy tenses behind me.

She screams, and I turn just in time to see Shane jump to the side as she fires.

"Ivy, no!"

Her bullet enters the wall of the foyer.

Shane pokes his head and gun around the corner and sees Ivy pointing her weapon at him. "What the fuck!"

"Shane!" Ivy's voice springs off the walls. "I almost shot you!" Her chest rises and falls with each syllable.

"Give me the damn gun." I peel the pistol from Ivy's fingers. Probably wasn't a good idea to give her a weapon in the state she's in.

Shane is unfazed by Ivy's near miss. "What's the situation?" he asks me.

"Someone was in here. Left me a present in my bathroom sink. I cleared the place. Give it a second pass."

Shane nods and stalks down the hallway. He's silent as he enters the master bedroom.

Jett bursts through the elevator doors with his handgun held high. His gaze focuses on my face then narrows in on the ruby droplets on my clothes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. The penthouse is clear. Shane's double checking."

Jett lowers his weapon and waits for me to explain.

"Bernard's uh…"

Ivy whimpers and hides her face in my chest. With my hand around her ear, I mutter, "Master bathroom," and gesture with my head.

Jett nods and treads toward the execrable spectacle.

"Fuck…" He drags out the word.

Yeah, brother. This sucks.

Ivy's shaking like she's naked in the snow as I position her on the sofa. "It's okay. No one's here."

"Who… Why would…" She mumbles and gapes at me with panic-stricken eyes.

"I'm not sure. I'll find out. There will be hell to pay."

A switch flicks in her and agony blankets her face. "Uncle Bernie…" Water fills her eyes and pours down her cheeks. Her sobs rip my soul to shreds.

I hold her close and stroke her hair. "It's okay."

It's so not okay.

"Trip." Jett calls me over to the kitchen.

"I'll be right back." I release her, and she brings her knees up to her chest, clutching them tightly and rocking back and forth.

Shit.

I walk to Jett at the center island. "Yeah."

"We gotta get her outta here." He looks toward Ivy on the couch.

"I know. Let me think for a second."

He pours two glasses of whiskey as I try to figure out where Ivy will be safe. Hard to fucking know since I have no idea who planted that goddamned head in my sink!

Shane joins us in the kitchen. "Clear."

I nod at him. Fuck. My fortress has been breached. My defenses, outmanned.

Only an insider could get through my security system. Which one of those fuckers betrayed me?

I turn my back to Shane and Jett and down my drink.

Who in the hell would sever Bernard's head and deliver it to me as a warning? Who out there has the balls to challenge the new boss?

I didn't want to have to kill anyone anymore, but this is way over the line.

The asshole who put that look on Ivy's face will die an unmerciful death at my hands.

No one messes with her and lives. No one.

Goddamn.

I need to murder someone, but I have no fucking clue who.