“It was Goffredo, who is the son of the head of the Front Mob Family,” Bullet states. “That’s who we’ve been protecting on Robin’s freight runs. I don’t mind running protection of their shit. That’s not the issue,” Bullet says. I can’t let him say anything else, though, without interrupting him.
“The issue is that the prick Goffredo is doing this as some personal vendetta because his mommy’s feelings are hurt. His dad had a thing for Cidney’s mom, and she dumped his ass. Goffredo has some twisted and warped idea that if he fucks with her, he’s somehow making his mother proud or something.”
The room is quiet. Not a single person speaks. I keep my gaze on Bullet’s. As much as I want to look at Ivy, I’m afraid that I’m going to reach across the table and give him my complete thoughts, which doesn’t involve much talking at all. I’m ready to beat his ass.
“Lorenzo called me about an hour ago. He’s going to hand over Goffredo. He talked to him, and there’s no denying he broke the rules. He did what he did. He’s not denying it, not even to his father.”
I open my mouth to ask what the rules of this punishment are, because I know what I want to do. I want to give him the exact treatment he gave Cidney. Except I won’t be shoving my dick up his ass. It’ll be something else. Not sure what yet, but it’ll be rusty, and I’ll take my sweet fucking time, too.
“What happens next?” Ivy growls.
Bullet dips his chin slightly, placing his palms on the scarred wooden table. He leans over, and I watch as his gaze flicks to each one of us sitting around the table. I’ve been so consumed with him, with Ivy, that I didn’t realize this was only officers. None of the other regular members is here.
I wait in silence, waiting for a response, but my patience runs out. “What are our parameters when it comes to revenge?” I ask. “Because I’m fucking ready to go.”
A hushed silence falls over the room. Maybe I’ve said something wrong, but I don’t give much of a fuck. All I know is that Goffredo brutalized the woman I love, and he will pay for that.
“Lorenzo doesn’t want him dead,” Bullet finally says.
“Fuck that,” Ivy barks.
That’s when my head whips around, and my gaze flies to meet Ivy’s. It’s my turn to stand. I slam my palms on the table between us, and he shifts his attention to meet mine. His gaze narrows, but he doesn’t stand. He’s watching me, waiting for me to say something. I’m poised and fucking ready.
“You don’t get to have a goddamn say in what you want when it comes to Goffredo or Cidney. Not anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
My eyes widen before I tilt my head to the side. I’m ready to go, right here and right fucking now. I walked away from Cidney once, and it almost got her killed. I won’t be doing it again. And I’ll be damned if Ivy has any say in protecting her ever again.
“You fucking heard me. You can’t keep her safe. And I’m claiming her right here and now. Cidney Whitaker is my woman.”
CIDNEY
Lainey fell asleep hours ago. She even went to bed. We watched a few episodes of that show and ate our weight in pizza and snacks, then added chocolate brownies on top of that.
She went into a food coma shortly after the brownies and took herself to bed, but honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep again. In the hospital, I thought sleep evaded me because I was surrounded by machines and people coming in and out of my room all night, but that wasn’t it.
I’m scared.
Plain and simple.
With Lainey here, I thought it would be an easier transition, but I might as well be alone. My body doesn’t know it’s safe. My mind certainly doesn’t, either. So, herein lies the problem… I certainly can’t sleep alone, and I can’t sleep with Lainey in the next room, either.
I’ve got the television on. There is a show streaming about cake and if you can guess which item is cake and which item is real. It’s a game show kind of thing. I like it. I don’t have to focus on it or pay attention to it. I can zone out and stare straight forward at all the pretty colors without thinking too hard.
My phone buzzes beside me. I want to ignore it, but decide to check the notifications. It’s Goose.
GOOSE: JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU
I know I shouldn’t reply. It would do no good. He doesn’t want me, even if he’s here. I know he’ll be gone again soon. Whatwould a little harmless flirting do? Plus, it’s not like I can or want to act on anything anyway. But this could be a bit of fun.
Thanks. I appreciate it.
GOOSE: WHY ARE YOU AWAKE
Can’t sleep.
The man refuses to use punctuation while texting. It makes my lips turn up into a smile, because I like it. I mean, it’s annoying as hell, but at the same time, I do like it. It’s comforting in its own way. It’s who he is, and I’ve missed him. He could be gone a day, an hour, a second, and I would miss him.
