Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(91)
Patience, you bastard, I thought. Finish this shit right, and you might get your chance in another week.
“Alone,” I said. “Like I'd been thrown in solitary, except nobody was ever coming back. I was the only one of my three brothers who got to say goodbye to papa. I gave myself a day to be quiet and sad at his funeral, and then...”
When I wouldn't finish it, burying my face in one hand, she tapped the glass gently. I threw my hand down, making her think I'd swept a fake tear from one cheek.
“Then what, Anton?”
“I swore I'd storm heaven and hell paying back every last f*cker who did this to him, to our family. Before papa bit it, I thought I might try to do some shit like Uncle Volodya, without letting my guard down. Maybe I'd learn to set guns or run a chop shop for motorcycles, something with a connection to the hard world I'd grown up in, without having to do outlaw shit into my thirties. That all went out the window the day my old man died. His death left us to head the Chicago clan. Ivankovs have a way of burying their own dreams for family blood. For honor. For all the shit that matters.”
She nodded, scribbling a few more notes. Had to look away when her tits pressed together, bobbing again, hypnotizing me to do something stupid that would blow this whole f*cking thing.
When she met my stare again, her eyes were darker, reluctant, like they were holding something in. “You look like you know a thing or two about loss,” I said.
Sabrina shrugged. Smart girl. She wasn't throwing me a bone and turning over any control to me – not after she thought I was giving her everything.
“What? I thought you were gonna ask me all the hard stuff,” I said. “Looks like you're trying to protect my feelings. Don't bother, babe. I don't f*cking have any.”
Liar. I had feelings for this chick, all right, but right now they were all concentrated in the red hot lava throbbing in my dick.
She bit her lip, and then pushed her chair in, closing the last tiny distance between her and the glass. “How does it feel knowing everything you wanted to accomplish is in your brothers' hands now? You're serving a life sentence, Anton. The bombing was too infamous. If there's ever any parole opportunities, you'll be an old man.”
Fuck. I'd underestimated her. She really knew how to sling arrows at a man's heart, and not all of them hit with a heart shaped kiss from cupid.
“How the hell do you think it feels?” I growled, letting more anger than I intended slip out. “I...you know what? Fuck this!”
Time to run with that anger. I jerked up, watching as she threw herself back fearfully, and then jumped when my chains slapped the glass. One day soon I'd break that shit and waltz outta here. Just not today.
“Question time's over! You got what you wanted. Get the f*ck outta here!” I kept my angry eyes blazing on her as she stood and gathered her things.
I heard the door behind me burst open. Charlie and some other guys were coming in to get me the hell away from traumatizing the poor girl.
“Come on, big guy. Visiting hours are over when you start acting like an ape,” the old warden said.
I turned, beaming death rays at him out of my hateful eyes. I started to walk before any of those f*cks could lay a hand on me. Shit, I'd gone way past pretending here – my veins throbbed with a bloodlust I hadn't felt since knocking out the shithead's teeth who'd landed me in solitary.
He had it coming when he thought he could have a piece of me in the shower with his crew. Bastard became my relief valve for a whole lotta pent up rage when I broke his jaw, ramming my f*cking head against it while I let his guys hold me down. They got a few bruises of their own before the guards broke up the brawl, and I walked away with my virgin * intact.
“This isn't over! You come back next week, Sabrina!” I roared, turning back to her before I was through the door. “Wednesday afternoon. I'll give you the rest. Everything you ever wanted and a lot f*cking more.”
She looked shaken up through the glass, but not so f*cked she'd avoid me. I hid a smile from Charlie and his boys on the way to my cell.
It would be at least another week before I got to grab her soft dark hair and pull it while I f*cked her, but I already had her tangled around my fingers. She was in my f*cking trap, and now all I had to do was swing the gate.
Dino was snoring that night before I started on the stress ball.
I'd lied through my f*cking teeth, and the Ligiotti bitch ate it up. If she didn't come back next Wednesday for the finale, I'd find her later and spank that nice, full ass when I found a different escape line. And if she did, I'd have my cock so far down her throat in another week that I might forget what solitary felt like.
The plan was perfect. Daniel would figure it out when he saw the shit on the blog. He'd always been the real brains behind our operation.
My Uncle Volodya never owned a vodka bar called the Red Eagle. That was a code to my brothers, and they'd see it as soon as this part of the story went live.
Everything else I'd told her was true – or true enough. Gioulio and his bastards probably kept her shielded from the nitty-gritty details about the war between our families. Didn't think she knew it was his men who'd sliced papa's throat and left him to bleed out in my arms in a cold Chicago alley.
It took four years after he was buried to blow that f*cked up club sky high. I'd paid for my act of terror, and I was serving my time accordingly, but f*ck if my work was done. Not while Gioulio was breathing.