Imagine my surprise when one night, coming to this club not to partake in the entertainment but to check out the enemy, I happened to grab a glass of scotch and see Collins grace the stage under the name, Topaz. A long blue wig covered up her noticeable cinnamon brown strands, her glasses gone, and thosedangerously long legs were hidden behind blue boots. But I knew it was her—she could wear a brown bag over her head, body hidden in shadows, and I would still recognize her.
I didn’t plan to watch. Fuck, I didn’t plan on being transfixed so thoroughly, mind gone, senses lost. But when the woman you’re in love with starts to strip? You park your ass in the chair and thank God for the small gift.
It was a deeply held secret. I’m in love with Maeve’s younger sister.
It started innocently enough—a simple crush on the young woman when we were teens. I was only a few years her senior, assigned as her protection for whenever she left the house. Collins was the favorite of her mobster father and received special treatment. She couldn’t go anywhere, do anything, without a guard.
She hated it—hated me. It meant being confined, watched. Unfortunately, my fascination with her grew, a crush blooming into love.
It was easy. She’s beautiful, of course, with a body most models would kill to obtain. But it was her wit—her intelligence, that drew me in, stole my breath and made me completely hers.
Because the rest of the world sees what she wants them to see. A docile mask of perfection, meant to hide the darkness inside of her. Only I knew the real her, felt the darkness call to my own, wrap me into this embrace of depravity and sin, even if she wanted to ignore it.
That’s the thing about Collins I love most. She’s a viper, with a bite strong enough to bring down a man three times her size, hidden inside this tiny package of big green eyes and plump lips. She puts me in my place, and fuck, if I don’t enjoy it.
It’s our little dance. I know that darkness is there, her fury, and I enjoy riling her up to see that flash of silver in her emeralds. It’s like a strike of lightning in the black sky over theharbor—a warning of danger ahead. And I’m too stupid to pull away. In fact, I dive head first for more. Because it’s a part I know and enjoy, and want more of.
But I’ll never touch her. She’s my best friend’s little sister. Maeve would chop off my fingers and shove them down my throat if I even mentioned my love of Collins to her.
Glancing at my phone, I sigh.Still no Collins.If she doesn’t show soon, I won’t be able to hold off her sister’s inquisition.
A sudden, abnormal panic hits my gut. Did Bruno stop her? He’s Maeve’s only true enemy in the city, but it’s always bugged me that Collins is here without protection. Protection only I can give her.
Did he hurt her? Keep her? My jaw clenches, and I sit back, weighing my options. Bruno is lower than scum and if he wants a woman, he’ll do everything underhanded to have her.
The side door jerks open with a loud clang, and Collins stumbles out in her white converse. A sudden breath floats past my lips.There she is.
Grabbing my helmet, I start my bike, ready to leave. She’ll give me the finger and I blow her a kiss, and we’ll head home. This is normal, safe for us. No complications. Boundary firmly intact.
Not like I didn’t just watch her pretty little pussy swing in the air under cool blue lights.
Then, I see the two men following her out, and possessiveness rises up in my chest like a dark cloud. This feeling is different from the urge to protect her from those snaggletooth bullies at her fancy school—this is darker, meaner, the kind of feeling that will level buildings to keep her safe.
Jumping from my bike, I punch one of the closest in the jaw, hearing the crack echo into the night.
He falls to the ground as his friend menacingly steps forward, face bright with the promise of a fight. He’s a big guy, but I’ve beaten bigger—killed bigger.
Standing my ground, I block Collins’ smaller form and wink, just to piss him off.
“Fuck, man,” the one on the ground curses. His mouth is ruby red and I snort. He’s got a glass jaw. “Stop, it’s Ace’s hitter.”
Of course, they know who I am. Half of Boston does. Ace’s hitter, the kid she brought on, trained, and turned loose on to the families.
The thick fucker, gives me a dirty look, glancing to Collins. “Don’t do that,” I warn. My hand grabs the gun in the small of my back. “Don’t fucking look at her. She’s not yours to look at.”
He ignores me which really bugs me, and jerks his chin at Collins. “Roman expects loyalty.”
“Roman can suck his own dick,” she retorts. That’s the Collins I know—short tempered, vulgar, unapologetic. I wish the whole world got to see it.
“And well-behaved women,” the guard continues, narrowing his eyes.
Well, I don’t like that atall.
Before he can blink, I press the barrel against his jugular, much to his friend’s annoyance. My smile turns brighter, cheerier even.
“Good thing she’s not his to command,” I say. “Now back off Ace’s little sister or I’ll be sure to remind you of why you don’t mess with the O’Brien clan.”
“Hell,” Collins mutters behind me. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Hayes.”
