Lawless: Mob Boss Book Three Read Free

floor landing. She couldn’t look back. She’d done what seemed right at the time; helping Nico, trying to figure out who was targeting him. She couldn’t have known Dante would come after David. She couldn’t have known any of it would happen like it did; that she would kill the man standing between her and Nico, that she would require two hours of emergency surgery to remove the bullet he’d fired into her stomach on his way down. It had been traumatic for all of them, but most of all for David who had gone from being a college student grieving his father’s death to being held hostage by one of the Syndicate’s most brutal men.
    She stopped at the closed door of his room and listened for a few seconds before rapping softly on the carved wood. No answer. She tried again, then eased open the door.
    The room was dark, the heavy curtains pulled shut like always. It didn’t matter if it was nine in the morning or six at night, David’s room was always cloaked in darkness, as if the thick velvet draperies could keep his fear at bay.
    He was laying on his back, light brown hair flopping onto his forehead, lanky limbs splayed out across the mattress. He’d always slept that way. When they were little and could convince their mother to let them sleep in the same bed, Angel never lasted long before retreating to her own room. David had been a bed hog even then.
    His left hand was still wrapped in a bandage, even though it had mostly healed. She thought it was because he didn’t want to look at his disfigured hand, didn’t want to admit it was permanent, and she felt ashamed at her relief that the bandage meant she didn’t have to admit it either.
    “David,” she said softly, lowering herself onto the mattress next to him. She touched his hair, said his name again.
    He stirred, and a split second later his eyes flew open and he sat up, terror playing across his features in the dim light making its way into the room from the sconces in the hallway.
    She put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s just me.”
    He lay back down, his body slowly relaxing. “What time is it?”
    “It’s the middle of the night.” She felt guilty as she said it. Why did she wake him up? Was she scared he’d OD on his medication? Or was she just looking for company? “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” he said. “Is everything all right?”
    She fought the urge to laugh hysterically. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “I was just checking on you. Go back to sleep.”
    He nodded and rolled over. “Love you, Ange.”
    She ruffled his hair. “Love you, too, loser.”
    He snorted into his pillow as she eased from the room.
    She closed his door and headed back downstairs. It was nearly four am, but she wasn’t ready for sleep, and she continued toward the kitchen at the back of the house.
    She still wasn’t used to being back in Boston. Filled with antiques and art chosen by her father’s decorator, the house felt stiff in a way Nico’s family home in the Hudson Valley hadn’t. But she hadn’t had time to redecorate, hadn’t had energy for anything except taking care of David and plotting revenge against the men who had betrayed Nico. She felt a sudden longing for her little apartment upstate; the tiny bedroom, the living room with the threadbare thrift store couch. It hadn’t been much, but it had been hers, and it had been bought and paid for honestly. She had already packed up her father’s penthouse apartment. She would need to do something about the brownstone eventually, too.
    She pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge, and poured a healthy sized glass. Her hands shook as she brought it to her mouth, and she took a long swallow before setting it back on the counter. Her nerves smoothed out just in time for reality to hit her.
    Nico was alive.
    She closed her eyes against the memories. Nico’s perfect body moving over her, his breath in her ear, his strong hands spreading her thighs.
    A sob