The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(126)

“You lied to me, Roman! I asked you for help in finding my brother! If I mattered at all to you, you would have been honest with me.”

“What would I have said, Ana? Your brother was selling drugs in my club and pissing off the wrong people and jeopardizing my business. He had to be handled.”

“Was he? Oh, God… Did you kill Allen? Answer me, Roman!”

“No, Ana. I didn’t kill him. I was going to, but then I saw a picture of this new dancer that had been asking questions to the wrong people…”

“Oh my God.”

“And I decided I wanted her. So he’s still breathing, pet. Rest easy.”

“Who are you?”

“The man you just begged to f*ck you. That same exact man.”

“Everything they said is true. You are a monster.”

I can’t hear this shit from Ana. I’m used to being judged and I don’t give a f*ck, but I can’t hear it from her.

“Think what you want to, pet, but you’re still mine and you’re not f*cking going anywhere.”

She gets up from the bed, finding the sheet I threw down and wrapping herself up in it again. Her eyes are spitting fire at me.

I must, in fact, be the monster she accuses me of, because I am hard as a rock.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Roman. If I want to leave, I will.”

“Feel free, pet. But if you walk out of that f*cking door, then I’ll have no reason to keep your brother breathing.”

It’s a low blow and sounds so much worse now than it did when I originally came up with the idea, but I’m not about to back down, even when she pales and looks at me with nothing but hate.

“How can you do this?” she asks, tears slowly falling from her eyes.

“You can have the rest of the night to make up your mind, Ana.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Out, but never fear, pet. As long as you’re in this house, your brother is safe,” I tell her, turning away from her.

Fuck. This was not how I planned my evening out. It gives me one more reason to kill Paul Banks. That shit will be put into action tonight.





I handled that badly. Fuck. I know I did, but I was blindsided and pissed that she was trying to hide from me. The trouble with being gone on a woman is you react with your dick and not your brain. If I handled my business like this, I’d be broke.

“You look like you lost your best friend. Want me to buy you a beer to cry in?”

“Fuck you,” I tell him, not looking up from my whiskey. “You’re traveling late, Marcum.”

“I got a call from this bastard in Miami. Sounded serious, so I thought I’d come see him.”

“Dangerous, in your line of work.”

“Life’s f*cking boring without a little danger,” Marcum says. I turn to look at him. He hasn’t changed much. A little gray around the edges, a few more scars, He’s got long hair that he has pulled back in a clasp at the back of his neck right now. He’s wearing jeans, his leather club cut, and cowboy boots. I respect the man. We might be different as night and day on the outside, but on the inside where it counts, we could be f*cking twins.

“How’s the fifteen kids?” I ask him, and he gives me the one finger salute. If you can say anything about Marcum, it’s that he’s a fertile son of a bitch. He has so many kids, he could populate a small country with nothing but his offspring.

“Eight, *. And not bad. Even got a grandkid now. Max’s woman Tess had a little girl. Prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Hard to picture you as a grandfather,” I tell him honestly.

“I’m f*cking awesome at it. Hell, should have tried it sooner. Lot easier than your own kids, that’s for f*ck sure.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I tell him, taking a drink of my whiskey.

“That job you wanted, that’s not going to be easy, *. That f*cker has connections,” Marcum says, switching to business quickly, which is just as well since I’m not really in the f*cking mood for small talk.

“I’m not paying for easy. While we’re on the subject, I have another problem that needs to be dealt with.”

“Jesus, you’re a needy f*cker all at once. What brought on all this shit?”

“A woman,” I growl, pouring more whiskey into my glass.

“Say no more. Jesus, brother. Shouldn’t you have learned from my mistakes?”

“She’s a good one, Marcum. She just comes with a f*cking load of baggage.”

“Don’t they all,” he sighs.

“Trouble with Cherry?” I ask him, mentioning his latest squeeze. He’s kept this one the longest and she seems to care about him, but then what the f*ck do I know about anything.

“Cherry left.”

“What the f*ck for?”

“Now that’s the question. Unfortunately, it’s a question I have no f*cking answer for.”

“Life would be f*cking simpler if you could just keep them tied to the bed all the time,” I growl, draining the last of my drink.

Marcum stands up and slaps me on the back with a laugh. “Amen, brother. Amen. I got your order in. Get Bruno to send me the particulars on your add-on.”