Sparrow(41)

He continued to weave through the traffic. It was an idle threat, and he knew it. I had nothing to fight him with, no way to escape. He’d locked the doors and engaged the child safety locks.

“Here,” he said, surprising me and offering me my phone.

When I read Lucy’s text, my heart beat so fast I almost felt it leaping out of my throat.



Lucy: Tell me I don't need to call the police about this.



With shaky fingers, I wrote back: I can handle it myself. The joy of being a mobster’s wife, y’know. Speak later. x



I wasn't sure whether it was bold or stupid, but that was the moment when I realized that it was true. I was going to handle Troy and Connor myself.

And I was going to find my freedom, my happiness, inside this golden cage.





TROY


I NEEDED TO get my ass to Miami ASAP, and I’d decided to take Sparrow with me. Paddy had been dying of cancer for a few months now, and rumor on the street was he wasn't going to make it through the summer. Debt had to be collected and paid, and revenge was about to be served, cold and punitive.

It felt only fitting that Sparrow was there, even if she had no idea what I had planned. Plus, I didn’t trust her alone in Boston.

I was packing my suitcase when Cat showed up at my bedroom door, leaning her shoulder against its frame, wearing nothing but a suggestive smile and her f*ck-me black dress that was tight like an undersized condom. Her eyes on me felt like a lap dance not worthy of the fat tip. I fought an eye roll.

"Hey, baby," she rasped, licking her bright red lips. I kept my eyes on the suitcase I was filling, wide open on the bed. “Mom told me your wife’s out and Brock picked up Sam from school to take him shopping, so I thought I’d drop by to say hi.”

What the f*ck was up with Brock. Shopping? I’d given him a job to do.

"What do you want?" My voice was clipped.

"You, mainly." She took a step into the bedroom, the echo of her heels click-clacking on the marble floor sending shivers of annoyance down my back.

The bitch had no right to be here. She clasped me from behind, her hands roaming over my chest as she rested her forehead between my shoulder blades. Her flowery perfume attacked my nostrils, hanging in the air like a tasteless joke.

"Where are you going, Troy? For how long?"

I didn't answer, reaching down and zipping the suitcase. Red was supposed to get back home any minute. I’d called Connor and told him to bring her in immediately. I f*cking hated it when Maria let her daughter into my apartment just because she could, especially as Maria couldn’t tell her daughter no about anything. I made a mental note to take my housekeeper’s head off for this.

"You need to come see me on Friday. We have an arrangement," she pressed.

I turned around to face her, buttoning my white dress shirt. “Brock seems pretty pissed off with you. You acting up again?”

She pouted like a kid, but didn’t answer.

“This…” I pointed between us. “Is just f*cking around. Don’t you forget that. Invest more time with your family.”

Her chin started quivering, but instead of crying, her face broke into a coy grin. “But you are my family, baby.”

Her hand reached down to cup my balls and I raised an eyebrow, grabbing her wrist and twisting it behind her back. Even though I didn't physically hurt her, I wanted to make a point.

I brushed my lips against hers and growled into her face. "Tell your mother that next time she lets you into my apartment without my permission, you're both walking out of here with one of my shoes shoved into each of your sorry asses. Understood?"

Cat's cleavage bumped into my lower chest, and I felt her rocking against me blatantly. Such a f*cking trainwreck. Not an ounce of self-control.

“Since when do you give a flying f*ck about Brock? About my family?” She grazed her teeth over my chin seductively, her tongue trailing down my neck. “C’mon, baby. There's no way in hell Pippi Longstocking keeps you busy between those sheets. Look how neat they are. I doubt she even shares that bed with you."

I grabbed her by the hair and spun her, throwing her against the wall face-first and grinding against her curvy ass from behind. "You better shut your pipe," I snarled into her ear. “It’s never been too good for anything other than sucking cock, and even that is growing old.”

Catalina threw her head back against my chest and laughed hysterically. "You didn't even f*ck her yet, did you? Oh, how I wish I could have seen the look on her sweet little face when she unwrapped the gift that I bought for her." Her ass slammed into my erection. “I’ll wear it for you, baby. All the leather and garters in the world.”

“You’re crazy.” My impatience and anger felt sour on my tongue. “Have you relapsed?”

“I’m as sober as a nun. I just came to remind you that you’re still mine.” Cat snaked her hand behind the small of her back to grab my cock through my pants.

She couldn’t have been more wrong. I wasn’t hers. Never had been. Never will be.

Not again.

But she was right about one thing. I didn't sleep with my own wife. The woman who I took into my house, who slept in my bed, who I have given a job and bought tickets to Miami for.

And it pissed the shit out of me.