Dangerous:Made & Broken (A British Bad Boy Romance)(17)

         

     



 
"‘We'?" I inquired. "And how? Just, you know, out of morbid curiosity.  ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, I'm not really getting the same vibes. In fact,  I'm pretty sure he hates me as much as I hate him. A prime example would  be tonight, when he chased me through the house and threw me on the  floor because I pissed him off."

Marcus stilled completely, and for the first time that night, I saw  clear emotion crossing his features. Dark anger filtered across his  handsome face, but when he turned to face me, only his eyes kept that  dark spark-the rest of his expression was as blank as before. "What?"

Uh-oh. If I thought he'd had a scary presence before, it was nothing  against the nearly physical tendrils of danger that seemed to creep  across the floor and envelop the entire room with his anger.

"We had a fight," I squeaked, clutching at the wine glass hard to stop  my hand from trembling. As angry as I was with Blaine, I was willing to  backpedal if it meant his brother would get slightly less terrifying.  "It wasn't unprovoked-I threw wine in his face."

"He hurt you?"

I thought back to the fight, and realized that no …  he hadn't. I'd been  scared, and he had been rough, but at no point had I been physically  injured. "No, not really. He just... scared me. And then he left. That's  why I snuck out-I wasn't planning on running away or anything. I just  wanted to-to show him he can't treat me like that and expect I'll just  be an obedient little woman who stays put."

I hadn't mean to confess that-not to anyone, least of all to Blaine's  scary brother, but it just seemed to spill out as I stared at his blank  face and storm gray eyes.

Marcus looked at me for what felt like the longest time, and I felt like  he was trying to X-ray my brain with the intensity of his stare to  ensure I was telling the truth. Finally, he nodded and pulled back from  the kitchen counter, and it was as if the pressure in the air around us  changed, making it suddenly easier to breathe.

"Finish your wine. I'm calling Blaine, and then he and I will talk before you go home. He won't ever scare you like that again."

The way he said "talk," I couldn't help but wince internally. Seemed like I'd gotten an unexpected ally.



 *





Chapter 13

Blaine



"Seriously, what's gotten into you?" Liam shoved a drink across the  table to me as he sat down on the crimson leather sofa on my left side.  He didn't have to shout over the music, even though we were in Red, one  of our more exclusive nightclubs. The VIP section wasn't nearly as loud  as the rest of the club, set up to allow for sensitive business deals to  be made in the private booths.

"Who actually volunteers for a liquidation job?" Louis chimed in from my right. "Even Marcus's never done that."

I looked down at my bloody knuckles with disgust. We killed people  fairly frequently, and I knew even the lighthearted twins had had to put  a few arseholes down over the years. Men who stole from us, enemies who  crossed the line, snitches …  there was always a method to it, a nearly  clinical procedure that left the least amount of evidence behind. Tie  the man to a chair, spread plastic wrapping underneath him, one bullet  to the brain. Easy clean up.

That wasn't what I'd done tonight.

"Of course, Marcus has beaten more than one poor sap who crossed him to  death before. Did you know the guy?" Liam asked. Despite their light  tones, I knew both of them well enough to realize they were mildly  concerned. I couldn't blame them. When I closed my eyes I could still  feel the satisfying crunch of bones breaking beneath my fists.

"He was a human trafficker. Brought underage girls in to work for him,  the sick shit." I flexed my hand and suppressed a grimace at the dull  throbbing. "And I untied him-he had a fair chance."

"Right." Louis took a sip of his drink and leaned back against the  high-backed sofa, sprawling out like he was completely unconcerned with  my inexplicable rampage. I wished Ben hadn't called them after I told  him to fuck off and let me deal with the human trafficker. If they  hadn't shown up I could have disappeared into my own darkness-and right  now, all I wished for was to let it swallow me up.

"But we're still pretty curious as to why you felt the need to go  full-on Hulk. He was going to die regardless," Louis continued.

"-And you've never really struck us as the vigilante-type," Liam finished.

Fuck, those two could be annoying when you were sandwiched between them.  I shot a glare first to my right, and then to my left. "It's none of  your fucking business, is what it is."         

     



 

"Ah."

"Mira, then."

"What did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything!" I growled. "And you two knobheads need to back off right the fuck now."

"Sure you didn't." Liam gave me his driest look as he calmly sipped his  drink. "Is she still not putting out, then? It's been, what, just over a  week since you got hitched? Your balls must be blue by now."

"I don't care if she puts out or not," I growled. "She's not the only woman in the world. It's not like our marriage is real."

"Oh, right then." Louis gestured toward the full dance floor with his  drink-free hand. "Then why don't you go pick up a bird for the night?  Nothing like a good shag after a fight, right?"

I gritted my teeth and slumped back against the sofa, arms folded across my chest. Fuckers knew me far too well.

And that was the fucking travesty, wasn't it? Because ever since I'd  woken up next to Mira the morning after our disaster of a wedding, I'd  not been able to think about anyone but her. Just the thought of picking  up some random girl made me inexplicably sick to my stomach.

But Mira didn't want me. She'd made that perfectly clear. Sure, her body  reacted as strongly to me as mine did to her, but it wasn't enough. It  shouldn't have mattered-she was just a bird I'd been stuck with against  my will, after all. I shouldn't have given one flying fuck whether or  not she wanted me.

So why did I?

I clenched my sore fist at the renewed wave of frustration that rushed  through me just from thinking about her. She had brought up my family,  brought up my moment of weakness, and as furious as I'd gotten, the  moment she threw that wine in my face my only desire was to throw her on  the table and fuck her until she begged for my forgiveness. And then  again. And again.

I hated her for what she was doing to my already fucked-up mind. At  least before I'd met her, the darkness in me was the only thing that'd  scared me. Now …  now she scared me, because all my thoughts and all my  messed up emotions revolved around her. The one woman who refused to  give in to me.

The sound of my phone ripped me out of my sulking.

Despite my frustration and generally crappy mood, a touch of curiosity  made its way through at the sight of Marcus' name popping up on the  display. It had been maybe a year since he last called me, and then it'd  been to tell me to get my arse out of whichever girl's bed I was in at  the time and meet him for a job. We saw each other regularly enough at  events and jobs, sure, but we never talked much. So why the hell was he  calling me now?

I flicked "answer" and held the phone up to my ear. "Yeah?"

"Your wife is at my place. Come get her."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Your wife. She's with me. Come get her."

"Why the fuck is she-" I stopped talking when the call cut off and  cussed under my breath. He'd never been much into phone etiquette-or any  manners at all, really. Why the hell had he picked up Mira? Had our  house been compromised? My gut dropped and I shot up from my seat,  knocking my untouched drink over in the process.

"What's going on?" Despite Liam's relaxed pose, his shoulders tensed as  he looked up at me. Ready for a fight. Out of all my father's sons, the  twins were the least vicious, but I knew I could always count on them if  shit hit the fan.

"I don't know," I said, already making my way out of the booth so I  could get to my car. "Marcus called, said he's got Mira with him. I'll  let you know if anything's going down."

"Oh. Right. You do that."

Perhaps if I'd been less focused on getting to Marcus ASAP, I would have  paid more attention to the meaningful look that passed between the  twins.







When the elevator doors opened up at the penthouse floor in Marcus'  building, the nervous energy in my body was so intense I had to flex my  shoulders and hands a few times before I knocked on the door. If she'd  been hurt, he would have said something-I hoped. But then what could  have happened to make my crazy-arse brother drive all the way to the  suburbs to pick up my wife? And why had he been notified, and not me?

My looping thoughts were interrupted when Marcus opened the door. His face was as blank and unreadable as always.