My angel.
My baby.
My fingers flinched at my sides as I recalled the memory. She had a bruise on her face.
I nodded once as I stared at her, a vision in her dress. It was the color of blood, the fabric wrapping her body in a gentle caress. She turned to look out the window, giving me her back. Her hair fell down her shoulders like a curtain of silk; she had taken it down in the elevator on the way up to the room.
She hugged herself, providing comfort I couldn’t. I didn’t deserve to comfort her. I would never forgive myself if it happened when I knew her.
“It happened before I met you,” she said softly, stopping my thoughts of self-destruction. Something in her voice made my body react in a way it shouldn’t. There were a lot of things I shouldn’t do when it came to Karina Jones, but yet, here I was, giving in to her temptation.
My feet moved on their own, not stopping until my chest was against her back.
“You don’t have to tell me this, Karina,” I said gently, regretting the last four minutes of my life. I had been so roughwith her…disgust pooled in my gut, hatred for myself becoming stronger than ever before.
“I have to. I—I want you to know.”
“Angel, you –"
“It was before I met you, right after Dean left Gwen to play for the Cubs. God, she was a mess. She only wanted to party and drink. She lost herself, and I let her. I blamed myself for her heartbreak, since I was the one who told her to go for it when Dean made the first move. Jer was the one who always brought us back when we would drown our sorrows,” she said, chuckling slightly. Nothing about this was funny, but I held my tongue.
The mention of her brother had my chest hurting, but I refrained from rubbing the spot.
Goddammit.
I closed my eyes, needing to get my shit together. The night of the Gala years ago, I had only one regret, and that was hurting her…
Almost six years ago. The St. Louis Art Gala
“Leave us,” Cal Matthews, my boss, ordered.
I looked at Gwen Davenport one more time. She was being held back by two guards, her teeth bared, threatening me. I smiled and waved my fingers. Good riddance.
Shutting the door behind me, I went in search of Kevin. He was nowhere to be found and that pissed me off. As I cut through hallways, my eyes scanned for the idiot. Most likely, I would find him with his cock shoved between some random bitch’s legs. I rolled my eyes, because even when he looked like shit, Kevin Matthews could still get laid.
What a cunt.
Beating his ass two days ago on the field apparently didn’t teach him his lesson. He was so ungrateful, a silver spoon fed brat blind to the amazing life he was given. There was no point in going back down to the Gala, because he avoided that area like the plague. My cell phone rang in my pocket.
“What?” I barked, heading through the kitchen. The staff bustled round me, steering clear. Smart move.
“The body has been dumped, sir.”
Jeremy Jones.
I stabbed him about half an hour ago on the edge of the dance floor while Gwen danced with Ray Romano.
“That was fast,” I remarked, shoving my way out the back door of the building. I was greeted with the humid night air. Summer was just around the corner, which meant I would be back in Chicago overseeing drug runs and taking protection fees.
“Does the boss need anything else?”
I remained silent as I lit a cigarette, heading to my car. “No, the boss wants us back at the house until further instruction.”
“Yes, sir.”
I tucked the phone back into my pocket and puffed my cig. This was a new habit for me, but it was something I needed to take the edge off. Things were getting stressful within the ranks, so it was either smoking or killing everyone. When my car came into view, so did something else. A blonde angel wasleaning against the hood of my Audi, her blue eyes shining with anger, dressed in all black.
“Karina,” I greeted coolly, flicking the butt onto the street.
