White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(31)

“Thank you,” I tell her, not needing to explain why I’m so grateful. She gets it. Gets me.

And then Dom’s voice drowns out everyone else’s.

“My baby girl is back!”





20





Memphis





I could skewer Dominic Casso where he stands. In front of all his friends and family. I wouldn’t care at all that I’d be hauled off to jail immediately or, more likely, shot dead on the spot. Because with every excited outburst from the old man about his children, Cannon stiffens beside me like he’s being stabbed.

What a motherfucking asshole of a father. Apparently, he missed the memo that you’re supposed to treat your kids equally.

All four of us in our little group go silent as Cannon and his half brother Cav watch the father who apparently never gave much of a shit about them wrap a petite woman in a hug and lift her off the floor with the strength of a man half his age.

“Fucking dick,” Greer whispers under her breath just loud enough for me to hear.

I make eye contact with her and nod in solidarity. I like her. I don’t need to know another thing about her to know that she and I will get along fine.

Her brother is the golden boy in Dom’s eyes, and her husband is an afterthought.

How fucking unfair?

But I doubt there’s much use in trying to change a mobster’s ways when he’s just joined the septuagenarian club. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still try, and I have a feeling she would do the same.

“Anyone else hoping the car delivery gets delayed, and he doesn’t get a shiny new toy tonight?” The words are out of my mouth before I remind myself to shut the hell up.

Thankfully, Cannon squeezes my hand before looping his arm around me. He and Cavanaugh Westman both laugh, and Greer giggles.

“That can definitely be arranged. I know all of Banner’s dirty secrets, and I’m not above blackmail.” Greer winks at me, and I reaffirm my opinion—I definitely like her.

Cannon says again, “It’s so damn good to see you, Greer. New York has missed you.”

She reaches out to shove Cannon’s shoulder in a very sibling-like gesture. “You mean you’ve missed me and you’re just too proud to say it.”

“Not too proud at all. I’ve missed you like hell. Nothing’s been the same since . . .” Cannon trails off because the elephant in the room stops right beside us.

“Greer. Cav. I was hoping you were already here. Come see Holly. She’s missed you and was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

Creighton Karas, notorious billionaire and Cannon’s ex-best friend yet still half brother, stands a few feet away, and a rush of emotion swirls through me like a twister. It’s like Cannon and I are totally invisible to him.

I’ve never been so torn on what to do in my entire life.

Greer asks her brother, “Crey, have you met Drew? She’s Cannon’s girlfriend.”

His dark eyes land on me, skipping over Cannon completely. His face is blank, showing no emotion at all.

“You should be careful with the company you keep.” And then he turns and walks away.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Beside me, Cannon jerks his hand from mine and takes two steps after Creighton before being waylaid by someone as Creighton cuts through the crowd.

“What a fucking dick,” Greer says.

“Babe—” Cav’s voice is full of concern and warning.

Greer shakes her head. “No. That was uncalled for. They have to talk and have it out. I’m tired of this shit. Cannon didn’t have a choice in what he did, and if Crey thinks that he would be where he is today without Cannon working his ass off beside him all those years, he’s insane.”

I search for Cannon again in the crowd, partly hoping he caught up with Creighton and they’re going to have it out right now, but I’m not so lucky.

He’s gone.





Greer and her husband politely invite me to stick with them as they circulate through the party, but since I assume they’re going to talk to Holly and Creighton, I respectfully decline. They leave me with a promise to find me later, and Greer insists we need to get together for dinner and drinks before they leave town. I tell her I’d love that, and we exchange phone numbers before I make my way back to the bar.

I don’t plan on drinking much tonight, but it’s either fill my time with another drink or hang out in the corner, pretending I don’t feel awkward at being abandoned.

And it’s not the desertion part that bothers me. Not at all. If Cannon hadn’t gone after Creighton, I would have shoved him in his direction anyway. Those two clearly need some time to talk and bury the hatchet. I just hope they don’t do it literally, like Greer said.

At the bar, Benny from Boca sidles up beside me in his loud Hawaiian shirt. “Hey, pretty girl. How about I buy you a drink?”

He laughs at his last statement because it’s an open bar, but I politely grin and nod anyway. I could use some company to kill a little time.

“I would appreciate that, sir.”

He shakes his head, and the bit of gray still hanging on around the edges flaps with the movement. “I’m no sir. Just Benny. Anything else makes me feel old, and I refuse to believe that horseshit.”