Wrong (A Bad Boy Romance)(108)

Kill your boss’s cash cow? I don’t think so.

“I’m Spada’s second. You know that. I marry Jessica, I take over the family down the road. That’s the plan. It’s always been the plan.” His fist loosens, and that smirk comes back, though maybe a little less convincing than it was. “You’re not part of that plan. You never have been. You’re just a dog in a fighting ring.”

That’s so true I don’t even bother to argue it. But the way he talks about Jess has my hackles up. He doesn’t give a shit about her beyond what marrying her means for his position in the family. She’ll just make him a higher level of scumbag. A higher-ranked crime lord. She means nothing else to him.

I suddenly want to pummel him into a bloody pile. He doesn’t deserve her. Hell, I don’t deserve her either, but at least I care about her.

Wait. Do I? Maybe, maybe not. But I’d be better for her than Romano. I wouldn’t hurt her, that’s for damn sure. I take a step forward, and I can feel every muscle in my body tensing for a fight.

But I have no idea what I’m going to do, and I won’t find out, because just then a black-and-white moves into view on the street outside the gym. He’s going slow, and I can see him watching out the window. The cops like to watch. Not much else they can do; Spada’s got this town tied up in a bow with his name on it. But if we do anything right in front of them, they’ll take advantage of it. Throw their weight around a little. No point giving them the chance.

So I step back and give Romano a polite nod. “You have a nice day, Mr. Romano.”

The guy standing next to my car cuts a glance at the cop moving by and steps back from the door so I can get in. I start the car and leave them behind me.

#

There’s a local coffee shop not far from the Spadas’ place. I know Jess likes to go there. Some of the other guys at the gym used to joke about how she goes there to read, stuck to her e-reader like it’s her boyfriend or something. I wonder now if she was studying rather than just reading. I figure that’s a fair guess.

I head for the coffee shop, pretty sure she’ll be there. If she’s not, I’ll have to hunt her up some other way. But as I pull into the parking spot I can see her inside, on a chair near the window, coffee cup in one hand and e-reader in the other.

I sit in the car for a few seconds, just looking at her. She’s so fucking beautiful. Am I doing the right thing? Will this really keep her safe? Will it keep me safe? Then I realize I’m not nearly as concerned about myself as I am about her. That’s not the way I usually operate. What is it about her, anyway?

Clenching my teeth, I get out of the car. Time to man up and go ahead with this plan. I’m still not convinced it’s going to help me when the shit hits the fan, but I think there’s a good chance it’ll help her get away from that piece of shit Romano. Not to mention her father. And if my own plan goes the way I want it to—well, we’ll both be in good shape.

She glances up as I open the door, as if she looks up every time someone walks into the place. But when she catches sight of me she slowly lowers the e-reader to the table. Her eyes are wide.

I come to sit down across from her at the table.

“Cain,” she says, her voice quiet, as if she’s afraid someone will hear her. “Why are you here?”

“Let’s do it.” No point delaying the inevitable.

“Do…” Then it hits her what I mean. I reach over and take the hand that was holding the e-reader and fold my fingers around it. It’s warm and small, with fine bones. If I squeeze too hard, I could break it. “You mean…”

I nod. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m dead if I keep doing what I’m doing. And the thought of you with that asshole Romano…” I shake my head. I can’t even find the right words to describe how I feel about Carmine Romano. “So…let’s do it.”

Somewhat to my surprise, she doesn’t look happy. I figured she’d be ecstatic that I’m ready to go through with her plan. But she looks more worried than anything else. Her other hand comes across the table and closes over mine. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah. I thought about it. It makes sense. I mean…we have to at least try, right? Otherwise we’re both…” I stop, not sure what the right words are. “We’re both fucked,” I finally finish. Inelegant, but accurate.

She smiles. “Yeah. Pretty much.” One of her eyes glistens and I realize there’s a tear hanging there in the corner of it. It doesn’t fall.

“We do it my way, though,” I go on. “You do what I tell you to, and it’ll work out. You decide to change the plan, and we’ll have a problem.”