Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

ELENNA

Finley helped me back into my coat. While I pushed the buttons through the holes, he wound my scarf around my neck. Eyes on mine, he pulled it firmly around my throat, not enough to cut off my air, but enough to send another shot of hot blood straight to my pussy.

"Thank you," I said, my breath catching in my throat.

He shrugged into his black wool coat and brushed the back of his hand over my cheek. "You’re welcome." I thought he might kiss me. Instead he took my hand.

"It’s not far to walk from here. Unless you’d prefer me to call for a car?"

"I don’t mind walking," I said. "It’s a nice night out." The air was frigid, but the sky was clear. If we weren’t in the middle of the city, we would have seen the stars glittering.

Instead, we’d enjoy the city lights, and the hum of passing traffic. The feeling of life, the pulse of Dusk Bay.

"It’s beautiful," he said, looking straight at me. "Romantic. I have a feeling you don’t get enough of that."

"Romance?" I asked. "I suppose not." Aidan and I were lucky to eat dinner together most of the time, much less go on walks through the city at night.

"Then that’s what I’ll be," Finley said. "The one who does romantic gestures." He swung our hands between us.

"You don’t have to do that," I told him.

"Maybe not, but I want to," he said. "It’s been a long time since I had a woman to spoil."

"How long?" I asked without thinking. I quickly added, "I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to." The evening was going so well, I didn’t want to screw it up by being nosy.

"No, it’s okay." He glanced down at the footpath. "Four years. Siobhan and I were engaged. The plan was for us to live the rest of our lives together."

"What happened?" I asked gently.

"The Fiorelli family happened." He looked over at me. "I managed to get her involved in something she shouldn’t have been. She was killed because of me. Not a single day passes when I don’t want to put a bullet in the brain of anyone from that family."

My hands were drenched with blood and brain all over again. The gun was cool in my hand. Aidan stood behind me, holding me steady before I squeezed the trigger. I heard the gunshot, just one. Oscar Fiorelli was alive in one minute and the next… He was a corpse, slumped in the chair, his life blasted away by my hands.

"Why don’t you?" I barely managed to keep my voice even, in spite of my racing thoughts. His death was the past. This, right here, was the present. Everyone was right, I needed to put it behind me. How could I, when everything reminded me of that night?

"Because if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s biding my time," Finley said. "Besides, the only way to avoid them coming back at me is to take them all out at once. For that, I’d need help."

"The Brantley brothers?" I guessed.

"Right. Reuben and Caleb at least. Possibly Hunter and Parker as well. The twins would be all for killing them, but Reuben and Caleb have their own agenda. One they don’t share with the likes of me. Or Aidan."

Of course not. Men like that, with money and power, rarely felt the need to explain themselves to the people that worked for them. They expected people to do as they were ordered, and if they didn’t, they’d be screwed. End of story.

"Four years is a long time to wait for justice," I said.

He grunted bitterly. "You’ve got that right. But Siobhan is cold in her grave and we aren’t. In the interest of keeping it that way, don’t look back. We’re being followed."

Of course, the first urge following his words was to look back. Instead, I squeezed his hand tighter.

"Any idea who?" My tongue darted over my cold lips.

"I can’t see any specifics, but I know they’re there. If I had to guess, I’d say their last name starts with an F." He put an arm around me and pulled me closer.

"Fuck," I said softly.

"Different F, same meaning," he said with a grunt-laugh.

"I don’t know how you can—" I started.

"Play it cool," he insisted. He tilted his chin back and laughed. "We’re having a relaxing, romantic night out."

I swallowed. "Right, yes." I forced out a strained giggle. It was inevitable that sooner or later the Fiorellis would come after me or Aidan. They had no way of knowing who pulled the trigger, but they’d have a fair idea of who was responsible for Oscar’s death.

Even if Aidan pinned it on someone else, they knew the minute Oscar killed Ike, one of us would want justice. For my brother, and for one of Aidan’s players.

In spite of suggesting he’d let me kill half of the team, Aidan would go after anyone who fucked with any of them. The team was a dysfunctional family right now, but it was still a family.

"Gianna’s really does have the best pasta I’ve ever had." My voice sounded more normal now, although I wondered if it might be my last meal.

"I told you they did." Finley grinned. "If you ever want to go back, Gianna owes me lots of favours." His gaze flicked over to a shop window beside us. He drew us to a stop and pointed. "I’m no expert, but I’ve heard that’s the best kind of vibrator you can get."

I peered into the shop. "I’m not saying I need a vibrator, but I’ve heard that too." I wasn’t short on clit stimulation, but it was a nice shade of red, and the rose shape was pretty.

I saw no one but us in the reflection from the glass.

"My tongue is much better than a vibrator," Finley agreed. "Let’s keep walking." Only the slightest twitch of his eyeballs suggested he was looking anywhere but at me, but his face was angled so the corner of his eyes could see behind me.

"How am I supposed to keep walking when you say things like that?" I teased. The effort to keep from turning around was driving me crazy.

"We could stop walking and give the whole road a show?" Finley teased. "They might learn something."

His suggestion sent a shiver through me. Part lust, part overwhelming desire not to be shot in the head while Finley’s face was between my legs. With a healthy dash of ’it’s fucking cold out.’

"Why don’t we save it until we get to your place?" I suggested. "We wouldn’t want your cum to freeze."

He chuckled. "I wouldn’t want my cock to freeze either. Or your pussy." He let one hand drift across my stomach and down across the front of my skirt.

"Definitely not." If my voice was strained now, blame it on the fire he sent coursing through my body. Not just because there was someone behind us who might very well want one or both of us dead.

Okay, maybe it was a combination of the two things. I seemed to thrive on fear and need, not necessarily in equal measure.

"Not far now," he said softly. "The anticipation is making my balls hard as hell. My cock is desperate to get inside you."

"I’m desperate to have you inside me." When I glanced over at him, it was with a meaningful expression on my face. Was he so sure we’d even reach his place alive and intact?

Whoever was tailing us would assume Finley had something up his sleeve. They’d expect us to pull out something once we knew they were there. They were likely biding their time, waiting for the right moment. The right place.

We might be screwed before we were fucked.

"I know you are." He returned the look, but his was with confidence. His head inclined slightly.

Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you. Because I won’t allow it and because Aidan would tear my nuts off with his bare hands and shove them up my ass.

He said all of that with his eyes.

"Across the next set of traffic lights. My building is on the corner." He stopped before the curb and carefully looked both ways, as if the traffic was so heavy we’d have to wait, or watch carefully. One car slid past before we started across the road.

I knew where Finley’s apartment was. I’d been there a bunch of times before, always with Aidan. His place was only a couple of minutes from Aidan’s. Ours, technically, but it still felt like Aidan’s apartment to me. The only thing I contributed to it was a bag full of clothes and myself. Everything else was his. He never made me feel like I wasn’t welcome to change things around, but I hadn’t. Instead, I was working up to the day when I suggested we move into our own place. That never seemed to be enough of a priority so far.

Now, I would have liked one of those mansions on the side of the cliff overlooking the bay, with more security than the average bank. Not that our place lacked security, but we shared the building with twenty other apartments. With neighbours always came risk, even if Aidan had anyone vetted thoroughly before they moved in.

"This is the place," Finley said lightly. "There’s an elevator, but I prefer to take the stairs."

"A bit more exercise never hurt anyone." Plus we couldn’t get stuck in an elevator if we didn’t step into one.

"Not yet," Finley agreed. "It’s a good place to meet my neighbours anyway. They’re often coming down when I’m going up."

I got the message, loud and clear. He was expecting someone to be at the top of the stairs, waiting for us. If whoever was behind followed us, we’d be stuck between both of them. I mentally corrected myself. When they followed us. Presumably that was the plan all along. The question was, why? If they wanted us dead, they could have shot us outside Gianna’s without anyone seeing a thing.

"I’m sure you have an interesting set of neighbours," I said.

"We get all sorts in here," Finley agreed. "Men, women and a few non-binary. Half a dozen different nationalities. A former nun. It’s an eclectic mix."

So he didn’t know who to look out for. We’d have to be careful not to make any assumptions, in case someone innocent got caught in the crossfire.

Assuming anyone innocent actually lived here.

"Don’t tell anyone, but Danny from the band Blazing Violet lives in the building." Finley shoved open the door that led into the stairs and guided me inside.

"He’s the drummer, right?" I asked.

"Yep." Finley flipped the back of his coat up and pulled a gun out of the back of his pants. He moved slowly towards the bottom step. "He’s a nice guy." He kept an eye on the door we came through, while we made our way up the stairs.

I glanced up. If anyone was waiting for us, they weren’t visible from here. They must be standing back from the edge of the stairs.

"I’m sure he is. He must be very talented," I said. "You’d have to be pretty sharp to be a professional musician."

Finley nodded that he understood what I was trying to say. If anyone used a gun in here, it would be loud. A knife would be quieter.

"Sharp and dedicated," he agreed. "Not unlike being a professional hockey player. You have to want it very much. You have to want it more than anything or anyone else."

We reached the second floor landing as the ground floor door opened and closed. The sound of movement from a few floors above immediately followed.

"I’m sure you’re just as dedicated as any of them," I said. "You want them to win."

Translation, ’you want to get out of here alive.’ Although, the presumption he wanted the Demons to win was equally accurate. He worked his ass off as hard as them and Aidan, for exactly that goal. That was yet another very good reason we needed to deal with whoever thy were as quickly and quietly as possible.

"I want that very much," he agreed. His brow was creased in a frown, but he kept on moving, keeping me between himself and the wall.

"Is there anyone else interesting living here?" I asked.

"I’m not saying the rest aren’t interesting, but the two of us are the most captivating." He slid a look my way and smiled. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself. And he neatly answered the question. As far as he could tell, there were only two of them in the stairs with us.

I almost wished I had a gun, but the same old fear lingered. When it came down to it, would I be able to use it? Would I freeze while someone lunged at me with a knife? What if they lunged at Finley instead? Could I react to protect him?

Too many thoughts rushed through my head, threatening to rise in a tsunami of panic. That would be the very worst thing I could do. For me, and for him.

"I think they know we’re here," Finley said finally. He spoke loud enough for them to hear. "They know that we know."

We stopped.

Complete silence fell. The only sound was the pounding of blood in my ears. That was so loud I was sure it would give away exactly where we were. Finley was right though. We were moving too slowly to be unaware of their presence. If we’d trotted up, we might have appeared to be clueless.

He tilted his head back. "What do you want?"

The silence hung heavy for a few more moments.

"We want justice for Oscar," the voice below us replied.

"I know plenty of good movies have missed out on the award, but you might be taking it a bit too far," Finley quipped.

The voice, he sounded like a man about my age, chuckled. "That’s cute. You know I mean Oscar Fiorelli. He was murdered by you or someone you know. That either makes you a killer or an accessory."

"I’d make a cute handbag, but I have no idea what you’re talking about," Finley said. "Whoever killed Oscar, and I mean the person not the awards, did the world a favour."

The voice growled and stepped up towards us. "Oscar was nothing more than a kid."

"He killed my brother," I said without thinking.

"He killed a lot of people’s brothers." He stepped up the stairs and into view. Dark hair, dark eyes, long black coat over black patent leather shoes. He reeked of money, influence, confidence. "We’ve all done our share of that." He looked me up and down, like a lion might appraise a deer.

"Nicholas Fiorelli," Finley said as though greeting an old friend. "How are you not dead yet?"

I was wondering the same thing myself. Nicholas was Oscar’s brother. A year or so older than me, he was as bad as Oscar. Worse. If anyone was going to step into the shoes of their father, Dante, it would be Nicholas. He was one of the few who might bring the family back together and back to strength. That made him dangerous as fuck.

"Finley Howard, Elenna Christakos-Draeger, I could ask you both the same question. Rumour has it you’re as up to your eyeballs, just as Ike was."

I kept my gaze steady. "You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. He was working with you, against the Brantley family, but you had him killed anyway."

Nicholas clicked his tongue. "We both know that’s not what happened. The opposite, in fact. He was working for the Brantley family against us and we dealt with him. Was he reporting to you? It can’t be a coincidence you married one of Caleb Brantley’s lieutenants. That must have been very convenient for Ike and you. But here you are, with one of Aidan Draeger’s underlings. I can’t imagine he’d look favourably on you cheating on him."

"There you go, listening to gossip again," Finley said. "Elenna had nothing to do with whatever Ike was doing." He kept his eyes on Nicholas the whole time, his gun held loosely in his hand.

"That’s what they all say." Nicholas’ eyes narrowed. "I haven’t believed it yet." He slipped out his gun, but held it the same way, like he wasn’t prepared to use it in a heartbeat.

So much for using knives, and trying to be quiet. Even a silencer would be louder than thunder in the stairwell.

"What do you want?" Finley demanded. "If you’ve come here to kill us?—"

"Believe it or not, I haven’t," Nicholas said smoothly. "Instead, I’ve come with a warning. Stay the fuck away from us and our business. My stepmother, Geneva, doesn’t want to start a war between us and the Brantley family."

Finley snorted. "You could have fooled me. Dante seemed hellbent on doing just that. Taking out the Brantley and Bell families and replacing them both."

"Dante is dead," Nicholas said flatly. "We don’t want a war, but that’s what you’ll get if you don’t stay out of our way. If you want to earn some points with my aunt, you could tell us exactly who murdered Oscar. Once we’ve dealt with them, we can all stay out of each other’s way."

I managed to contain a flinch. "I have no idea," I lied. "I can promise you it wasn’t Aidan or Finley."

Nicholas dipped his chin, his dark brown eyes sceptical. "How do you know?"

"Because they would have told me," I said quickly. "If they killed the person who killed my brother, they would have said so. They would have wanted to put my mind at ease."

Nicholas’ shoulder jerked forward slightly. "Maybe, and maybe not. Either way, it’s in your best interest to find out who it was and tell me. Things don’t need to be ugly between us. I’m a reasonable man. And if you ever get tired of Aidan, you’re welcome to spread your legs for me."

In the corner of my eye, I saw Finley’s hand twitch. He was clearly tempted to shoot Nicholas in the head for that suggestion.

"I’ll bear that in mind," I said dryly. He wasn’t even on the list of people I’d like to fuck, given half a chance.

Footsteps headed down the stairs towards us. Celine Fiorelli looked a lot like her brother Oscar, dark-haired and stunning. She looked at me like she’d just found me searching through the bargain rack at Target.

"Elenna," she said smoothly.

"Celine." I didn’t bother to smile. The woman was as toxic as the rest of them. She’d probably shoot me if she had a bad day or broke a nail.

"We’re done here," Nicholas said. He put his gun away and gave us both a nod.

Celine didn’t look so convinced, but she followed him down the stairs and back out the door.

"Maybe they can text next time," Finley muttered. He put away his gun and took my hand to lead me to the door on the landing above us.

"Yeah," I replied. They wouldn’t do that. Not when they knew this would leave us rattled.