Accomplice: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 3) Read online

  My cock stirs as soon as I read the message. I flash back to when I took Harley there, the image of her naked on the blanket, her dripping pussy exposed to the elements, and the tangy sweet taste of her as I lapped her up.

  “Vince, are you listening? Vince?” Leo slams his hand on the desk. He’s so agitated, I can tell he’s been calling my name for some time.

  “Yeah, what?” I turn to him, both of my eyebrows raised. “What did you say?”

  Leo eyes me suspiciously. “I was talking about the scholarship fund. You know, Pop’s legacy.”

  Mateo clears his throat. “I want to give it to a neighborhood kid. Leo wants to open it up statewide. Where do you stand on this?”

  “You have the final vote, bro,” Leo says.

  I really could care less about these small details. I’m distracted enough by all the balls I’m juggling, and Harley invading my mind. Whenever I think I her, white hot lust boils inside of me, making me want to say ‘fuck it’ to my responsibilities. I should take her to a quiet, tropical island, and bang her brains out everyday on the beach.

  When? I type back.

  “Do whatever you want,” I tell my brothers.

  Leo glares at the phone in my hands. “Who are you texting?”

  I slide the phone into my back pocket. “None of your fucking business.”

  Leo leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. “Oh, I think it is my fucking business. Because whoever it is is more important to you than what’s going on right now, in front of your face, with your family business.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I fight the urge to check it.

  “Just some chick,” I say, dismissively. “Some piece of ass.”

  Mateo snorts. “Really? I’ve never seen you smile at the phone like that for a piece of ass.”

  I stretch my neck from side to side, keeping my cool. “If you saw this broad, you’d understand.”

  “Tell us her name,” Leo demands.

  I keep quiet. I don’t have to fucking answer him.

  Leo nods slowly, like he’s caught me. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

  Mateo glances at Leo sideways, obviously feeling uncomfortable. I straighten my spine, and lay my palms flat on the desk.

  “Have you forgotten who’s in charge?” My face is stern, my voice thick. “Pop trained me my whole life for this. And if there’s something you need to know, I’ll tell you. Until then, stay out of my business.”

  Leo glares at me, then looks at Mateo, rolling his eyes. In full view of them, I take my phone out of my pocket and check Harley’s text.

  NOW! 911

  “Fuck,” I curse under my breath. The air rushes from my lungs, and my knees go weak.

  Leo jumps to his feet. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I say flatly. I straighten myself up, and grab my wallet and keys. “I have to go.” Goddammit, what’s she gotten herself into this time? Harley doesn’t feel fear the way normal people feel it. Combine that with her solid moral core, and it’s a recipe for disaster. I’d thought I could keep her patient. Maybe I was wrong.

  I start for the door. Mateo grabs my shoulder, forcing me around.

  “If you need help, we got your back, bro,” Mateo says. He nods, his dark eyes narrowed with concern.

  It would feel so good right now to ask my brothers for help. I know they wouldn’t ask any questions, they’d just jump into action and do whatever they could to help. I’d put my neck on the line for them more times than I could count, and they wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. But what if they found out Harley’s a cop? Would they stop trusting me? Would they think I’m a sucker?

  “I’m good,” I say, tersely, and make for the door.

  ————————

  “What the fuck?” I whisper through my teeth.

  I’d know that car anywhere, even from miles away on a flat country road. It’s the blue sedan I’d memorized, the local precinct’s cruisers. So why is it parked where I need to be, right where I’m supposed to meet Harley? She wouldn’t be stupid enough to drive it here, would she?

  I slow down when I get close to the vista point, still not sure if I’m going to stop or not. There’s an older man in the driver’s seat, and a girl with long hair in the back. Figuring this doesn’t have anything to do with me, I keep rolling along. Harley and I can meet up somewhere else. Maybe the cop and the girl will leave soon. I don’t dwell on how strange that situation is. The details are none of my business or concern.

  I stare at the road ahead, hitting the gas and picking up speed. Loud honking pierces my ears. There’s no other car around but the police cruiser. I slam on brakes, stopping in the middle of the road. In my rearview, I see a woman running up behind me. At first I think it’s the girl. I groan. She’s probably in some sort of trouble, and needs my help.

  I don’t want to get into a scuffle with the cops, but if she’s in trouble with that cop creep, then I have no choice. I get out of the car, and start towards her. But the woman running towards me with her hands in fists, screaming like a banshee has shorter hair than the girl in the backseat. It’s fucking Harley.

  “Vince,” Harley yells, crashing into my chest. She holds her trembling hands against my cheeks. “Please, don’t be mad.”

  Her pleading has the opposite effect. I’m immediately angry, because if she’s saying that, something’s her fault. But it doesn’t last long. Harley’s staring into my face with laser focus. Her eyes are wide, and she seems like she’s in shock. My protective instinct kicks in, full force. I gather her against me, and hold her tightly.

  “We have to figure something out,” Harley mumbles against my t-shirt. “We have to fix this. We can fix this.” She furtively shakes her head, like she’s talking to herself. Looking up and batting her eyes, she pleads, “Vince, please help me.”

  I grip her upper arms and look her directly in the eyes. “What’s going on, Harley?”

  I hear a car door slam behind me. I turn around, and see the older cop and the girl standing there, looking at us. I squint at them, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Harley’s voice rises up, light and shaky.

  “I didn’t mean to, Vince,” she says, like it’s a mantra. “I didn’t plan it. It just happened.”

  I turn my back fully to the two standing there, and lower my voice. It comes out gravelly, and makes Harley shake even harder. I tighten my grip on her arm. “What’s another cop doing here, Harley. I told you not to tell anyone. ”The air expels from my lungs forcibly, and my voice drops an octave. “I thought I could trust you.”

  Harley gasps, and her body goes weightless. I can feel how badly I’ve hurt her. But she’s put herself and my family at risk. I can’t ignore that.

  “Is that girl who I think she is?” I ask. “Did you rescue her from Unit A?”

  “Excuse me,” comes a female voice behind me. “Excuse me, sir.”

  I turn around slowly, my eyes blazing with anger. The girl is holding her head confidently, but fiddles with her fingers behind her back.

  “You Vince Romano” she asks, pointedly.

  I’ve got to give her credit for having balls, so I nod.

  “Good.” She clears her throat, regaining her confidence. “If you’re wondering what’s going on here, I’ll tell you. I got tired of waiting around for you to save my life, so I decided to do it myself.” She crosses her arms, jutting her chin out.

  I can’t fucking argue with that, so I don’t. I turn back to Harley. She’s eyeing me cautiously, avoiding my direct gaze. A primal urge bubbles inside of me. I want to strip her bare, lay her over my knee, and spank her ass until she learns not to disobey me. I grit my teeth, pushing the urge down. Now, it’s time to put emotions aside, and get to work. I have to clean up this mess before it gets worse.

  I yank Harley’s arm, pulling her towards me, and whisper harshly in her ear. “Get in the car.”

  Harley nods obediently and walks that way.

  I march
up to the girl and the cop. I point at the girl.

  “You’re coming with me.”

  “Where?” she asks.

  “To a secure location,” I explain. “As I’m sure you know, they’re probably already looking for you.”

  She nods, understanding. I turn to the cop.

  “You get the fuck out of here. Get out of my sight.” I turn my head to the side and spit.

  The old guy gets offended my this. He puffs out his chest. “I’m just doing my job. You know, helping people.”

  I step up to him, smirking. “You’re just like the rest. If experience has taught me anything, it’s that you pigs are all the fucking same, ready to line your pockets before you help someone who needs it. Now get this car out of here. It’s bringing too much heat.”

  The old guy has the good sense to step towards his cruiser. I watch as he opens the door, and slides a foot inside. With a look of defiance, he stops.

  “For the record, I’m not like the rest of them, sir,” he says. He points towards my car, now holding Harley and the girl. “And Officer Redding isn’t either. That woman is the bravest, most morally driven cop I’ve ever met. But I’m sure you already know that. Oh, and she speaks highly of you, too.” He gets into the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed.

  Harley

  ————————

  Walter, what are you doing?

  I watch out the window as Walter and Vince have an interaction. From the way Walter is talking, it looks like he’s giving Vince what for. That’s really not necessary right now. Vince is mad, fighting mad. I’ve disrupted his carefully laid plans, and now, I’ll find out the consequences of that. I’m sure Walter thinks he has to stand up for me, but all he’s doing right now is poking a beehive.

  Vince’s eyes are like dark, pointed lasers as he walks back to the car. I hear Honor gasp in the backseat.

  “Can we really trust this guy?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I answer instinctually. Vince is pissed, but I know he’ll do what’s right, at least for Honor.

  Vince slides behind the wheel, and I can almost feel the cold coming off of him. His demeanor is different than what I’m used to. Usually, his hot passion is enough to warm us both, and he struggles to keep his hands off of me. Now, he can barely look at me.

  He spins his tires as he takes off from the vista point, and down the road. I want to apologize profusely, or explain myself, but I can’t choke out the words. Instead, I decide to speak his language.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask.

  Vince grits his teeth and swallows hard. “I’m taking her to a secure location.”

  His tone is professional, but there’s an edge to it. And he said I, not we.

  “Okay,” I say, facing the window so he can’t see how hurt I am. “And then what? What do we do moving forward?”

  Vince settles into a heavy a silence, then unexpectedly laughs. But there’s no warmth in it, just icy shards.

  “For once, I don’t know, Harley.” He trains his eyes on me for a split second, his face emotionless and humorless, before turning back to the road. The dynamics of our relationship has shifted, and painfully so. “First, you need to get rid of that fucking outfit. I can’t be seen with you wearing that.”

  I glance down self-consciously at my uniform. I wish I could burn it off of my skin. It feels like a liability, an admission of guilt. Without warning, Vince swerves to the side of the road and slams on brakes.

  “Get out,” he says. “Look in the trunk.”

  Vince reaches down and pops the trunk. His fingers settle on the steering wheels, his eyes trained straight ahead. For a split second, I wonder if this is a trick. Once I get out, he’ll hit the gas, leaving me stranded. That’s how he’ll get rid of me.

  I shake my head, exhaling through my nose. I don’t like the feeling of not trusting Vince. It’s dirty and uncomfortable, like not changing your panties for a few days. I get out and lift the trunk. It looks empty at first, until I notice something shoved in the back corner. I pull it out. It’s a basic sundress, white, with a print of tiny yellow flowers.

  Vince drives around with an extra change of clothes for me. Could he have been anticipating this moment? Did he never trust me to begin with? Or does this dress belong to one of his other women?

  The stress is frazzling my brain, making me think of every horrible scenario possible. In my frantic state, it feels plausible that they’re all true.

  I shield myself behind the car as I change. Vince doesn’t look at me once.

  We drive into the city to a quiet district filled with warehouses. There are no residents, and few businesses, so the streets are practically empty. Vince parks a good ten blocks from our destination, then leads Honor and I through the streets. We arrive at a bustling Chinese restaurant.

  Vince marches straight to the back of the restaurant without speaking to anyone, and goes through door there. We wind through hallways, and down staircases, and arrive at an apartment. Vince sits with Honor on the couch, explaining where the bathroom and kitchen are, how she’ll be brought food on a daily basis. I stand with my arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Vince acts like I’m not in the room.

  Before we leave, Honor thanks us both graciously. I’d like to talk to her, ask her a few more questions about Unit A, but she’s expressed a desire for a hot shower and nap. She deserves it, so I leave her be.

  On our way back to the car, Vince walks a few paces ahead of me. I desperately hope it’s because he doesn’t want us seen together, and not because he’s spitting mad at me. Does he even want me riding back with him? Where’s he going to take me?

  After I get into the passenger seat, Vince waits a few moments before he drives off. He stares at the dark road ahead, his face etched with gritty concentration. Is he still deciding what he’s going to do with me? If he ever wants to see me again?

  Finally, he turns the key.

  “You’re staying with me tonight,” he says over the roar of the engine.

  I want to ask him a million questions, but decide not to push it. I don’t want to be away from Vince tonight, though a part of me worries what he’ll do to me for breaking his rules. A dark, deep part of me wants it.

  “Okay,” I croak.

  Chapter Twelve

  ————————

  Harley

  Vince walks through the parted elevator doors, into his apartment, without so much as glancing back at me. He proceeds to toss his keys onto the counter, then grabs the remote. After pressing a few buttons, loud metal music crashes down on my ears. I call out his name, but the music drowns out my voice.

  I stand awkwardly in the space between the kitchen and the living room, my arms crossed at my elbows. Vince sits on the couch, closes his eyes, and listens to the music.

  It’s like I’m not here, like I don’t even exist. And as far as I’m concerned, if I don’t exist to Vince, I don’t exist, period.

  I’m not going to stand here like some statue while this music gives me a headache. He's the one who brought me here.

  I purse my lips, rage prickling up my spine, while I watch Vince retreat into his own private world. He hasn’t even allowed me to explain myself. I call his name, and then again, louder. My voice doesn’t register over the crashing drums and frantic guitar chords.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” I mumble to myself.

  I march over to the coffee table, and grab up the remote. This isn’t a regular remote that I’m used to. It has at least a hundred buttons, and I have no idea what any of them do. I press one. The music stays on, but a blaze in the fireplace begins to roar. I press another. The wall above the mantle parts, and a giant flat screen television slides forth.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Vince rises to my side, and grabs the remote from me. With a few flicks, he kills the fire, and puts the TV back in its place.

  “Please, Vince. I want to talk to you.”

  “So, talk,” he shouts.

  “C
an you turn the music down?”

  Vince hardens his eyes for a moment, but finally, he relents. When he turns the loud music off, the silence is jolting, and buzzes in my ear. He stands close, towering over me, his arms crossed. God, I wish he’d loosen his arms, wrap them around me, and tell me everything’s going to be okay, that we’d work together to figure things out.

  “Talk,” Vince grunts.

  I feel a salty comment tickling the back of my tongue, but I swallow it down. That’s not the way to handle this situation.

  “I just want to explain-“

  “So explain.”

  I can’t help the smirk that tightens my lips.

  “What was I supposed to do, Vince, huh?” I step up to him, stopping just short of shoving him. “A young girl was running towards us, begging for help. She was running towards a police car, Vince. What was I supposed to do?” I stand on my tiptoes, getting my face as close to his as I can.

  A vein bulges in Vince’s forehead. His gaze is so intense, it fills me with real fear. What the fuck are you doing, Redding? But I don’t let the fear show on my face.

  “You shouldn’t have been out there in the first place,” Vince says, his voice like gravel. “You’ve been hanging around there, haven’t you? With your fucking partner. I explicitly told you not to tell anyone.” His lips curl, and he eyes me up and down. “I never should’ve trusted a cop.”

  His words are thick, and bludgeon me right in the midsection. I want to throw my arms around him and beg him to stop fighting with me, but my pettiness wins out.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted you, either,” I spit. “What was I thinking? You’re a criminal, for Christ sakes. You’re content with your one to two year plan while those women suffer. You never cared about them. You don’t care about anything.”

  Vince’s energy shifts entirely. It deepens, darkens. My stomach drops to my knees. Oh shit. What have I done?

  Vince slowly squares his shoulders towards me. Every muscle in his arms, chest, and neck is flexed. He looks like he’s going to burst out of his shirt. His hand shoots out and harshly grabs my arm. I sway on my feet, suddenly caught off balance. All my toughness fades as I stare up at his terrifying face.