My green eyes are caked in mascara and eyeliner and my cinnamon strands are damp with sweat. Reaching for my glasses, I slide them over my nose, feeling at once repulsed and relieved at their comforting weight. Everything clears up immediately and I lick my bottom lip.
I can’t fight the urge now, scanning my body. Pale skin, boney shoulders, slender hips. A long nose, big black frames with a high prescription. I’ve had to ever since they removed the tumor on the back of my head and my eyesight changed. Childhood cancer is a real bitch for aesthetics.
No one sees the monster I am underneath, but I do. The ugliness. The taint.
Before I let myself spiral, I tuck my hair and turn toward Roman’s office.
3
COLLINS
Roman Bruno the Second is the only mobster who fills my chest with a gust of fear.
Alessio De Luca, the Capo to the De Luca family in the south of Boston, is terrifying in that he’s tall, imposing, and possessive.
His family runs drugs, and now, arms dealing, by way of agreement with Maeve months ago. Sloane was forced to marry him for an alliance, and although they had a rocky start, that man is devoted to her, and she to him. As it is, Sloane is expecting twins, due by the end of the year.
He has a code that will not endanger his family.
Roman has no such reservations. He’s a thin man with ropey muscles, dark hair, pale brown skin and eyes that make me think of a cold, listless reptile. He scans me from head to toe, ignoring my shudder, tongue flicking out to taste his lips of something unholy.
He’s worse than my sister and brother-in-law, because he runs girls. I’ve seen the looks in their eyes, the bruises on their bodies. A few of them from the club, I was able to convince them to go to the ER. I thought I could talk them into running, or turnRoman in, but whatever he does is too much. They never break their silence.
“Collins O’Brien,” he purrs, leaning back in his leather chair. The office is dark, walls painted black with thick pink neon signs of idiotic ‘bar’ or ‘open’ in some terrible script. It’s scummy just like its owner.
“Roman,” I greet, keeping my hand on my bag. It’s heavy; I can use it as a weapon if I need it.
“How long have you been working here, exactly? One year, two?”
Shifting my weight, I keep my eyes on the two guards by the exit, and the one behind him.I could outrun them.“Three, next month.”
“Three years,” he whistles slowly. His eyes look to a guard and I hold my ground. “And in all that time, Ace just lets you come in here, right into the lion’s den, shaking those tits into anyone’s face for, what?Money?”
Glaring, I keep control of my temper. Unfortunately, stubbornness and a short fuse run in the O’Brien line, but I will not lose it now in the face of danger. I have to be smart, and clever.
Watching his smile grow and the way his fingers move, I know he’s playing with me. He wants to catch me unaware, but I won’t make it easy for him.
“Sure, money. Why? Need to check my deductions?”
He smiles and it’s not nice. “Smart mouth. Just like your little sister. Or maybe she got it from you?” He sits forward, knuckles tapping into the dark desk. Black, just like his clothing, and just like his heart. “You can play coy all you want, little mouse. But we both know you’re the smart one in the family. Ferguson loved to brag about it whenever he came here.”
The strip club was holy ground—they could talk and brag here. Act as friends and then the next day, go back to slaughtering each other.
It doesn’t surprise me to hear that Pops talked about me to all his enemies. If he could brag about how obedient I was, it was a mark of honor to the rest of this horrible community.
I didn’t want to be demure, or obedient, but if I wanted one moment of peace, I had to play my role perfectly.
God forbid if I didn’t.
“What do you want?” I narrow my eyes, pushing my glasses up my nose. “If this is about my set, I think my tips speak for themselves.”
“They do,” he agrees, nodding. “But seeing as how I lost quite a bit of money because of your brother-in-law and how your sister is cutting into my territory, I’m inclined to look for new revenue streams.”
My body goes cold.Maeve is cutting into his profits? I knew about his attempted bullshit deal with Lex by way of Sloane, but if Maeve is screwing with his stock, that doesn’t bode well for me.
“Such as?” I cross my arms, doing my best to summon Sloane’s attitude. I could really use her confidence right now. “I don’t do tricks on my back. I have standards.”
His eyes scan me again and he laughs. “I can see why. Who would want such a boney thing?”
