The sight of Robyn lying in bed is an image I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
She looks fucking gorgeous lying on that bed, hair disheveled and sleepy eyes staring up at me. The only way the view could get any better was if it was my room she was in, and I was lying next to her.
I never thought I would even speak to her. So to have her here, in my apartment, in my space and in my spare bed is a goddamn fucking miracle.
She’s only been here a couple of hours and the place already smells like her. She commands my attention in a way that I’ve never known. I’ve always found it hard to concentrate on things. But Robyn? She’s the exception.
She’s the one thing in this world that I can solely focus on and never lose interest, I don’t ever want to look away.
But I have to, because Marco is here to keep an eye on her for me while I deal with the little fucker who’s after her.
I watch as she climbs off the bed and runs her fingers through her hair.
What I’d do to be the one running my fingers through her hair, maybe give it a little tug before wrapping it around my fist and—
No. Fuck no. Nope.
I can’t be having these fucking thoughts right now, not while she’s peering up at me from under her lashes and gnawing on her bottom lip. If I keep thinking like this, I’ll never let her leave this room, then she’ll be in danger, and I’ll still be in the dark about how to fix this.
And that’s just not a fucking option.
Resolve firmly in place, I spin around and stalk out the room with Robyn following behind me.
I walk into the living room where Marco sits waiting for us on the sofa.
We agreed that Robyn needed someone to stay with her while I waited for the asshole who’s coming for her and dealt with him. I didn’t trust anyone but family with her and with Luca still taking his nap in the hospital, Marco was the only option. Dad did offer to stay with her, but we figured having the Don of the New York Mafia come and stay with her might scare her a little.
It’s one thing being aware of who our family is and what we do, but it’s a whole other thing to come face to face with the man who runs it all.
My dad would take care of her, he’d turn on his sweet side like he does with Izzy, but he can still be an intimidating bastard, so we decided to go with Marco.
Not that he’s very welcoming. The asshole will probably only say a few words to her the whole time he’s here and I may have threatened him into being nice to her.
It’s not Robyn’s fault that he fucked up years ago and can’t handle the repercussions of his actions.
My big brother comes off as an emotionless bastard, but really, he’s just in pain and has a tendency to remain stoic to try and push that pain away.
I wait until Robyn takes a seat on the chair opposite Marco before introducing them.
“Marco, this is Robyn. Angel, this is my brother Marco, he probably won’t speak much, and you’ll hardly know he’s here. Just think of him as a piece of furniture,” I say with a grin while Marco rolls his eyes.
“Uhhh, okay… nice to meet you Marco,” my angel says softly, and my brother gives her a brisk nod and lets out a grunt of acknowledgement which makes me snort as I give Robyn an I told you so look.
“Don’t leave until I get back, I’ll text if I can,” I say, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, giving Marco a warning glare as I straighten before turning around and leaving the apartment.
I don’t look back at Robyn, knowing that if I do, I’ll never be able to leave.
I head out of the building and towards the alleyway which has a direct view of both the entrances to Robyn’s store and her apartment. A spot which I’ve become familiar with over the last few months as I tried to catch glimpses of the girl who stole my attention from the very first glance.
We have men stationed around the area, hiding in plain sight and tucked away in corners where they won’t be seen unless they want to be, ready and waiting for when I have the bastard in my sights.
I lean against the wall of the alley and take a deep breath, ready to stand here for the long night ahead.
I’ve been standing in this fucking dingy alleyway for the last few hours.
It’s currently 2 a.m. It’s officially Friday.
I’m aware that the man who threatened Robyn may not come until tonight, but we figured it would be best if we were here and ready just in case the asshole decides to show up early in the hopes of ambushing her.
Since that’s exactly something I would have done if I were him.
My mind wanders back to Robyn, and I wonder if she’s already asleep in my spare room or if she’s lying awake worrying.
I don’t want her to worry, I want her to be happy and feel safe.
I’m not used to worrying about someone the way I do her, I’m not used to caring, or giving a shit about anything or anyone.
It’s fucking weird.
Marco texted me earlier to tell me she’d gone back to the spare bedroom and that she seemed fine, knowing full well I’d be stressing the fuck out, wondering if she was okay.
I’m not used to taking other people into consideration, yet I can’t seem to stop with Robyn.
Just as I predicted, I see a shadow move in my periphery vision and I turn my head to see the man Robyn described make his way over to the door that leads up to Robyn’s apartment.
I sport a smug grin as I watch him try and fail to pick the lock that I had replaced on the door before I kick off the wall I’m leaning against and make my way over to him.
My steps are silent as I come up behind him before announcing myself.
“Hey man, everything okay?” I ask, keeping my voice calm and friendly even though the beast inside me is rattling against its cage wanting to be let loose.
He jolts at the sound of my voice and spins around to face me before clearing his throat.
“All good bro, my girl lives here but she’s locked me out. You know how it is.”
My girl.
Did he just call Robyn his girl?
His fucking girl?
Deciding to not keep up the pleasantries, I cock my arm and throw a punch straight to the side of his head. He’s the same build as me and could probably give me a run for my money in normal circumstances, but he doesn’t hold the anger that I’m feeling right now.
The hit knocks him backwards before he centers himself and staggers forward with the intention of hitting me back but I swing an uppercut to his jaw before he can, and I keep throwing punches down on him as he drops to the floor.
I don’t know how, but I manage to reign it in and stop before I end up killing him right here on the street. I send a text to one of my men that I’m ready, and there are three men and one of our SUV’s here within minutes.
I watch as they tie him up and haul him into the trunk of the car before they drive away.
I head back to my car and pull up my messages to send Marco a text.
Got him. How is she?
His reply comes within seconds.
Marco
She’s fine. Still awake, I think. But seems fine.
My brows furrow as I read the text on the screen and climb into the car.
What the hell is she still doing up?
Before I can stop myself, I’m turning on the ignition and bringing up her caller ID on the dash.
The line only rings once before she answers.
“Hello?” Her sweet voice filters through the speakers and immediately settles something within me. She’s the balm to my aching soul.
“Hey angel, are you okay? Marco told me you were still up,” I say as I pull out of my parking space.
“I’m fine, just feels a little strange not being in my apartment I guess.”
“And here I thought it was ‘cause you were missing me.” I chuckle as put the car in drive and pull out onto the street.
“I don’t know you well enough to miss you yet.”
Yet.
That word alone stirs up emotions in me that I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.
Like hope.
“Get some sleep, angel. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say before ending the call and finishing the drive to the warehouse in silence. It’s not long before I’m parking the car and walking inside. The place smells like a mixture of stale blood and bleach—since, you know, a lot of people die here—I love the smell, because it reminds me of the fact that every death that took place in this building was for a reason.
We only bring people here when they’ve wronged our family, and the asshole who’s currently tied to a chair in the middle of the room has certainly wronged our family.
She may not know it yet, but Robyn is my family.
The fucker in front of me makes a strangled noise and I see that Elio—one of my men and the man in charge of getting him in here and tied up—has stuffed his mouth with a ball gag.
Fuck, I love it.
I stroll over and rip the gag from his mouth, listening with glee as he lets out a string of curses aimed my way.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? They’ll get you back for this, you piece of shit! Let me fucking go,” he growls, and I let out a bark of laughter, folding over and resting my hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath.
Fuck, this guy is hilarious.
“Let me introduce myself,” I say wistfully, “I’m Enzo Romano, and I think you were about to tell me who they are exactly. Since, you know… they’re after my girl.”
I watch as his face pales and his eyes widen. The realization sinking in of who I am. And not only that, but he had the audacity to call my angel his girl when he was outside of her apartment.
“I’ll tell you everything! Just promise you’ll let me go,” he begs, and I roll my eyes before nodding for him to continue.
“The Blue Vipers. They’re a gang. Your girl’s brother owes them twenty grand, but he’s gone off the grid. They wanted me to pick up Rob—”
“Don’t fucking speak her name,” I bark, interrupting him,
“Right, right. They wanted me to pick up… your girl. They’re getting into the skin trade or some shit like that and were gonna sell her off to fuck with her brother. I was just doin’ as they asked, I’m s-sorry.” He stutters at the end and I know he’s not even fucking remotely sorry. He’s just tryna get his ass out of here alive.
Ain’t gonna happen.
“What’s your name?
“Troy.”
“How big is this gang? And where can I find them?”
“Not big, they’re only just starting out. I don’t know where to find them. They normally text me instructions from a burner and I’ve only ever seen one of the guys once. His name was Danny and I owed him, so he started setting up jobs for me to do to pay off my debt.”
“What does my girls brother owe them for?” I ask.
“I don’t know for definite, but there were whispers that he joined up then took the money and ran,” he murmurs conspiringly, like a gossipy little bitch.
“Where were you supposed to take her once you’d picked her up?”
“I was supposed to take her to the address they texted me,” he says and one of my men step forward, passing me the phone.
I take out my own and forward the address to my dad, asking him to send a team to check it out.
“Anything else I should know?”
“N-no… I’ve told you everything. Can I go now?”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say with a grin.
“But… but you said! You said you’d let me go! I told you everything I know, man,” he wails, and I roll my eyes at the sheer fucking audacity of him as he struggles against the ropes binding him to the chair like he’s going to somehow get free and make a run for it.
Like that’s ever gonna happen.
“You put your motherfucking hands on my girl. You scared her. Hurt her. Threatened her. You don’t get to do that and still live.”
I nod my head to a couple of the guys standing in the corner of the empty room and they take their cue, cutting the ropes to free him before grabbing a forearm each and lifting him up to stand. They keep a firm hold on him as he struggles while whimpering like the little pussy he is.
Did Robyn whimper like that when he had his hands on her? Did she cry and beg? Did she have the same fear in her eyes that he currently has?
I won’t voice my questions. I don’t want this asshole thinking about my girl more than he already has.
Instead of speaking, I decide to complete this whole process in silence, losing my mask of indifference and letting my anger show.
His body trembles as I take a step toward him, he flinches as I raise my arm and take hold of his hand.
His face is already marred with bruises and dried blood from our little alteration earlier on, and if he thought that was painful then he’s got another thing coming.
Once his hand is in my grasp, I take my time bending his fingers and breaking each one before I move onto the next hand.
Breaking his fingers for daring to touch her with them. For leaving fucking bruises on her.
I stay silent the whole time, listening to his cries and rejoicing as his screams filter through the air.
Next, I pull a knife from my boot and cut his jacket and shirt from him, letting the fabric fall to the floor while he’s still being held up by my men.
I take hold of both of his wrists and twist, snapping both in one quick go.
I don’t even register his howl of pain; all I can hear is Izzy’s voice in my head from when she told me about the bruises she had seen on my angel.
Then my mind wanders to when Robyn gave me the details of that night.
“He shoved the door open, and I somehow ended up falling to my knees. They were a little bruised but it’s not too bad now. I’m fine, Enzo. You don’t know me; you don’t need to worry about me.”
Her voice echoes around inside my head and I give it a shake to bring myself back to the present.
I stare at the man in front of me. He’s finally given up fighting and instead is crying, begging me to let him go, promising that it’ll never happen again.
You’re damn fucking right it’ll never happen again. He’ll never get close enough to hurt her again. He’ll never lay eyes on her again.
I turn my eyes to the two men holding him and flick my gaze down to his feet.
Luckily, they’ve worked with me before and can understand what I’m trying to say without me needing to voice it.
They reposition themselves, still keeping a hold on each of his shoulders but placing their feet behind his so he can’t take a step back.
I drop the knife to the floor and make big show of stretching my limbs as though I’m about to run a fucking marathon before I bring my leg up and kick his left knee using every ounce of strength and anger I have. The feet behind him stop his legs from staggering backward and the force of my kick bends his knee backwards and breaks his kneecap. A crunch sounds and I bounce on my feet, fucking loving the pain I’m inflicting on him.
He cries out in agony and the sound is like music to my ears.
I repeat the same on the other leg and nod to my men to release him. He drops to the floor in a tangled heap as both men walk away and resume their stance in the corner of the room since I don’t need them anymore. It’s not like he can go anywhere.
His cries quieten, silent sobs taking their place as he lies face down on the floor.
I grab the knife from the floor before he can get any stupid ideas of trying to flop his body towards it and grab his shoulder. I shove him a little so he’s laying like a starfish on his back.
I can tell from the desolate look in his eyes that he’s given up, that he thinks this is the end.
Too bad for him this is only the beginning.
My brothers think I can’t be trusted when it comes to torture. They don’t realize that I save the worst for those that truly deserve it and sometimes I like to make things quick because there’s no point hanging around when the job has already been done.
And this little fucker laid out on the warehouse floor like a sorry sack of shit deserves everything he has coming to him.
He’s gonna wish he never touched my angel.
Fuck, by the time I’m done with him he’ll wish he’d never been born.
Knife in hand, I crouch down and gently trail the blade across his torso and he shivers in anticipation for what’s to come.
“You don’t deserve an easy death,” I murmur, speaking for the first time since I began inflicting my wrath.
“P-please, I’m sorry about what I did to Robyn… I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and the sound of her name on his lips causes something inside of me to snap.
“I told you not to speak her fucking name,” I bark, the anger of my voice making him flinch, which also makes him whimper since half of his bones have been broken in the last hour by yours truly.
I lean over him and pry his jaw open with one hand before grabbing hold of his tongue. Usually I’d just cut out his tongue, but I’m fancying changing things up a little bit.
I push the blade through the center of his tongue before letting go, leaving his tongue sticking out of his mouth with the knife skewered through.
Satisfied in the knowledge that he won’t be able to speak my girl’s name ever again, I nod to Elio and gesture for him to bring me my bag of toys.
Tonight’s only just getting started.
