24

MARGO

None of the guys had been to the Rusty Bucket for days. I couldn’t help thinking about it as I wiped down the bar, locked the cash drawer, and prepared to leave.

That was a good thing. They were dangerous. They were literally killers. If I never saw them again, that was a win in my book.

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about them?

Well, it wasn’t that hard to figure out why I couldn’t stop thinking about Slade. He’d infuriated me when I stormed over to his place, but my god, he’d also turned me on. I’d never had an experience like that before. I’d never been spanked, toyed with, or teased like that. I’d also never come that damn hard.

So, each night as I worked my shift, I looked up when the door opened, wondering if it would be them.

It wasn’t.

Which, again, was a good thing. Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. Because truth be told, each man had gotten under my skin. Rocello with his devotion to his son. Jumaine with his loyalty to his friends. And Slade with his… well, I hadn’t quite figured him out, but he was more than just a sexy guy who turned me on. Though that was a factor, too. I never would’ve thought I was the type of woman who’d liked to be spanked, but let’s just say that he proved me wrong.

They all were.

And it’s not like I knew what I’d do if and when they did show up again. What I’d say. What they’d say.

But I sure as hell had spent far too much time thinking about it.

The night air was on the cool side as I walked back home after my late shift. As always, I clutched the small canister of mace on my keyring. Luckily, I’d never had to use it, though I had decked a couple of guys at the Rusty Bucket who’d gotten handsy. And I’d pulled that shotgun the night those thugs tried to hold it up, but it turned out I hadn’t needed to because Rocello was there.

Still, I was a small woman, walking the empty streets at night. I never let my guard down in situations like that.

I was near my building when I caught sight of a man out of the corner of my eye. He was skulking near a closed coffee shop and wearing a ski mask.

Shit.

Instinct kicked in, and I took off, running toward my place. I glanced back and my adrenaline spiked as I saw him on my heels. That’s when I ran smack dab into the broad chest of the third man.

He caught my arms, steadying me, and even through the panic in my mind, one truth broke through. There was nothing a woman my size could do against one of these brutes, let alone three.

I was trapped.

My lip’s part, waves of fear washing over me. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. It didn’t matter, though. A guy came up behind me, his fingers covering my mouth. His accomplice was quick to grab me by the wrists. Yanking them back, he tied my hands over my lower back. In seconds, they were dragging me toward the street.

I thrashed around, trying to get away, but it was useless. In that tight hold, my screams drowned out by that thug’s hand.

“Don’t fight it, babe,” a low, raspy voice said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

Yeah, right.

In the dark, I didn’t see the curb, so I stumbled at the sudden step down. Strong hands grabbed me just before I slammed into a black sedan. The trunk popped open, and I dug my heels in, trying to keep them from dragging me toward it.

But the two men easily lifted me off the ground. They put me in the trunk on top of an old musty blanket. Beyond that, there was the faint smell of gasoline.

I wiggled around, my arms trapped behind my back as I tried to look up at my captors. “What do you want from me?” I asked, staring at the two masked men.

The only answer I got was the lid of the trunk closing. There was a certain finality about it.

There was nothing I could do as the car began moving. I was trapped. There was no way out. Yet the panic in me wouldn’t let me rest. I kicked at the sides of the trunk. I rolled over and managed to get to my knees, trying to push the trunk open with my back. I shouted. I cried.

None of it did any good.

Eventually, my panic and tears receded. I focused on doing what I could to make myself comfortable. It wasn’t easy, with my wrists tied behind me, but if I were to have any chance of escape later on, I’d need my muscles to be loose. After a lot of wiggling around, I managed to prop myself up on the, positing the old blanket over the ragged parts of the bottom of the trunk.

My mind was running through scenario after scenario, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, but I had nothing. Had enemies of the guys kidnapped me? Had those two thugs who’d held up the bar come back for revenge? My mind went in circles, and eventually, I drifted off a time or two.

When the car stopped, I was thrown forward like a ragdoll. We made a turn, and it was clear we weren’t on a paved road anymore. The noise of tires digging into dirt filled my ears as I bounced around painfully. After ten minutes of that, the car jerked to a halt and the engine shut off.

The sound of doors opening made my pulse spike, and I braced myself for whatever was coming next.

Someone pressing the trunk button from the outside, I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Rocello, Slade and Jumaine were standing over me, a starry sky above them as a cold breeze chilled my skin.

“Th-this…” I stuttered. “This must be a bad dream. I’m going to wake up any minute.”

“Not a dream,” Slade said, reaching down to stroke my cheek with one of his long fingers as if to prove it.

“Get her out of there,” Rocello commanded, his tone stiff.

I still couldn’t quite process what I was seeing. “It was you guys?”

Jumaine gripped my arm, lifting me out of the trunk. Once I was on my feet, he swung me around, cutting the bonds. He immediately began rubbing my sore wrists, but I jerked away from him.

I backed away, my ankle turning on the gravel underneath me, but I glowered at him when he reached out to steady me.

A million thoughts raced through my head. Fear was a big one. Why had they brought me out here? Why had they fucking kidnapped me? Confusion, fatigue, and anger were present, too.

And also… relief? That didn’t seem right. These guys were known killers. And yet somehow, my stupid brain didn’t really believe they’d hurt me.

Probably a lot of kidnapping victims had thought that and learned the hard way that they were wrong.

Unable to handle all those emotions at once, I settled for looking at my surroundings.

Right in front of me was a small, cozy cabin. The air was much colder than in New York City. Tall trees surrounded it, but it was too dark to see much beyond that.

“Where are we?” I rasped, my throat dry.

“Where in the world are we?” I squinted up at Rocello.

“Near the Catskills,” Rocello answered, and he handed me a water bottle. I didn’t want to take it from him—I didn’t want anything to do with him—but I was really thirsty. “This is my cabin,” he said as I unscrewed the cap with shaky fingers. “You’re safe.”

“Safe?” Anger made me forget about my thirst. “You just fucking kidnapped me!”

Jumaine answered. “Sorry about that. We didn’t have time to explain things back in New York.”

“Time?” I sputtered. “How long does it take to say, ‘Hi, Margo. Please get in the car—in the car, not the trunk—and we’ll explain on the way.’”

Slade eyed me. “Would you have gotten in?”

“Yes,” I said stiffly, though I had to admit that I might not have. Slade looked unconvinced as well.

“It wasn’t just that,” Jumaine said with a sigh. “It was also for appearances. If anyone saw us, well, it had to look like we were taking you away against your will.”

“Which you did,” I pointed out. “But why?”

“Because of our orders,” Slade said quietly, but I didn’t understand what he meant.

I had a million more questions for them—and a thousand nasty names I wanted to call them, but I focused on what was probably the most pressing point. “So what’s the big emergency?”

“Jumaine, you’re up,” Rocello stated, gesturing him closer.

Jumaine turned to me, his arm raised as if he was going to touch me, but then he pulled it back. “There’s no easy way to say this, but we were ordered to kill you.”

“What?” Shock filled me, but somehow, my reaction was incredulousness instead of running, like a normal person would.

“We’re not going to,” Slade said. “But our Don ordered us to take you out.”

“So that’s why you brought me out here,” I said in a small voice. It made all the sense in the world, but still—I didn’t quite believe it.

“No. That’s why we did some research and tried to figure out why,” Rocello said. “You may think we’re mindless thugs who just follow commands—and that actually is how it usually works. But we go out shooting people anytime we feel like it. Our boss wouldn’t say why he wanted you dead, so we took it upon ourselves to find out.”

“Long story short, we discovered something about you, Margo,” Jumaine said, and this time he did place his hand on my arm. “And about your father.”

My what? “I haven’t seen him since I was four,” I said. If these guys thought my deadbeat dad had something to do with this, they were insane.

“Actually, you’ve never met him,” Jumaine said. “His name was Emilio Roscano.”

That wasn’t true, but the name caught my attention, and I turned to Rocello. “You mean the man who took you in. The one who taught you about the Italian culture.”

Rocello nodded.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“He knew your mother, Margo. She was a housecleaner, right? He met her, they hooked up, and nine months later, you were born.”

“That’s impossible,” I breathed.

“It’s true,” Rocello said. “And I’m sorry to say that he left you two on his own. He was married, you see, and I guess he felt he had no choice.”

I inhaled sharply. My mom had slept with a married man? But that was assuming that this was true, which was impossible.

“It’s true,” Jumaine said, as if reading my mind. “But we don’t know the whole story, and neither of them are around to ask.” His words were painful even though I’d never met one of the two people he was referring to.

Suddenly, I laughed. This had to be a joke. These guys must’ve brought me out here for a weekend tryst, and the kidnapping was probably their idea of some kind of kinky foreplay. After all, I’d gotten very turned on when Slade spanked me.

“Margo?” Jumaine asked with a worried look at my expression.

“You guys are joking,” I said, relief sweeping through me. “I have to admit, you had me going there for a while.”

In the light from the moon, I examined each of them in turn. Slade’s unruly hair was even wilder than usual because of the ski mask he’d worn. Rocello looked troubled, but maybe he just had a good poker face. And Jumaine was still watching me with concern.

I stared them down, waiting for one of them to give away something.

A twitch.

A tiny smile.

Either would have enabled me to realize that this was a classic case of a crappy joke.

Neither came.

Their expressions remained as serious as they had been throughout their narratives.

“This isn’t a joke, Margo,” Rock said. But it had to be. It just couldn’t be real.

“I know it’s rough, hearing that the man you thought was your father isn’t,” Jumaine said, but I cut him off angrily.

“That jerk was nothing to me. He abandoned us.” When you thought about it, that should’ve made it easier to accept that he wasn’t my real dad, but according to these guys, my real father hadn’t ever even laid eyes on me. “Please, just take me back to New York. I don’t want to be here.”

“Which is why we had to nab you the way that we did,” Jumaine said gently.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said, my eyes pleading. “Please let me go.”

“This isn’t a joke, Margo,” Rock said. “You’re in danger.”

“Yes,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “From you guys.”

Slade leaned against the trunk, just a half foot from me. “No. From people worse than us.”

“But why?”

Jumaine explained. “You’re the daughter of Emilio Roscano. His son, Nick, inherited his millions when he died. And apparently, he doesn’t want to share.”

My breath hitched. “You’re saying I have a half-brother?”

“Yeah, but he’s a really bad man,” Rocello said, his voice gentle. “He put a hit on you because he doesn’t want you to get your hands on his money.”

“I don’t’ want his money,” I said bitterly. It was blood money.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jumaine said. “Apparently, Emilio left a will that names you as the main heir. That’s why Nick wants you dead.”

Shivers ran down my spine, but I did my best to think logically. I’d always dreamed of being a lawyer, and they needed to think on their feet.

“Why now?”

The men exchange glances. Finally, Slade spoke. “Since you didn’t know, you weren’t a real threat. But, uh, we did something to piss Roscano off, so he ordered us to kill you as punishment.”

That was all kinds of insane. “My death would somehow equal punishment for you three?”

The look on their faces confirmed that it would.

Jumaine took up the thread. “We also think that Roscano got word that we’d met you and were hanging out with you. I guess he got worried that we’d eventually figure it out.”

“Which you did,” I said softly. I turned my back to them, trying to think. The crisp night air that filled my lungs was steadying, somehow. I faced them again. “So what happens now?”

“We lay low for a bit,” Rocello said. “There’s a price on all our heads now.”

A new thought hit me. “Where’s Thomas?”

“He’s safe,” Rocello said gruffly, but what did that even mean?

Jumaine leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Drop it.”

My mouth opened, but one look at the pain on Rock’s face made me heed Jumaine’s advice.

Slade jumped in to cover the awkwardness. “One thing we can do is to make sure the story is true, about your father. If it’s not, then that changes things considerably.”

“How do we do that?”

“DNA test,” Jumaine said. “Where does your father live? The man you thought was your father?”

“I have no idea. He abandoned us. I haven’t heard from him since I was a kid.”

“But you can give us his name and last known location,” Slade pointed out.

Yeah… I could. But should I? He was an awful father, but that didn’t excuse sending three armed men after him. Then again, I didn’t owe him any loyalty. “Seth Harper. Last I heard, he was living in Queens.”

“We’ll find him,” Jumaine said.

“I want to talk to him.” My words surprised both the men and myself.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I’ve been pissed off at him for two decades for the way he abandoned us. Now, maybe I’m not even his kid. That would explain a few things.”

“He was still married to your mom,” Jumaine said. “He still abandoned her.”

“All the more reason to talk to him.”

“Well—”

Rock cut off Jumaine’s response. “We’ll see. For now, let’s get inside.” He looked around. The first glimmers of daylight were shattering the dark. “We need some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

I wanted to insist again that they return me to Brooklyn, but deep inside, I was starting to accept that that wasn’t an option. So I nodded and followed the men to the steps of the cabin. It wasn’t like I had a choice. I was miles and miles away from home and absolutely exhausted.

Maybe when I woke up, I’d find that this crazy night had all been a dream.