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SAKS HUNG BETWEEN LUKE and Spider while his stomach clenched in pain. The beer he’d drunk suddenly didn’t sit well, and he felt like barfing. Luke and Spider hauled him inside through the back entrance.
“What the fuck happened?” Spider growled.
Damn, she got him good.
“You okay, buddy?” Luke said as Saks clenched his stomach and tried to breathe. “She kneed him in the balls.”
“The girl he walked out the door with?” Spider asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” Luke said.
“What did you do to her?” Spider asked accusatorially.
“Nothing!” Saks sucked in a sharp breath. Stupid erection and balls. What the fuck?
“This doesn’t help, Spider,” Luke admonished.
“Take him back to the storeroom. I’ll bring some ice.”
Spider dragged in a chair and they helped Saks to sit. Sheldon brought in a small bag of ice wrapped in a bar towel, and Saks clutched it between his legs.
“I feel sick.”
Sheldon kicked a waste can to him and held out a small bottle of whiskey.
“No, thanks,” Saks said, shaking his head. But he pulled the trash can closer in case the urge became a reality.
“You fucked up good,” Sheldon said. “You left the Rocco woman at the bar to chase after another woman? Nice job, Anthony.”
These harsh words didn’t make Saks feel any better. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Hey,” Luke said. “Lay off on Saks.”
“His name,” Sheldon spat, “is Anthony.”
“I know what his name is. I sign his paychecks.”
“Maybe that has to fucking change. It’s not like my cousin is safe in your company.”
“Excuse me?” Luke protested.
“Damn it, Sheldon,” Saks barked, wincing. “Leave him alone.” It irritated him that Sheldon didn’t let last summer’s problems drop. Yeah, the one-percenter motorcycle gang, the Rojos, kidnapped Saks to get to Luke, but that wasn’t Luke’s fault. And in the end, it was Luke who pulled him out of that hellish situation.
“You didn’t have to clean him up after that mess with you and the Rojos, Wade. Or explain his injuries to his mother.”
“Zitto, cugino. Luca non è il problema qui.” Saks rarely spoke Italian, but he wanted to make an impression on Sheldon. This, what was happening, was Saks’ fuck up, not Luke’s.
“Capisco che, stupido.”
Good. At least Sheldon was insulting him instead of Luke.
Luke’s wife, Emily, stuck her head inside the storeroom. “What happened here?” she said, her eyes wide.
“Em, go wait at the table, please. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure,” she said. “You okay, Saks?”
He waved his bag of ice. “I’m fine. My pride more than anything tonight, Em.”
“It’ll pass.” She smiled, and winked at him before disappearing behind the door.
“You okay then?” Luke asked. “Do you need anything?”
“No. The pain is settling down to a dull roar.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll let my abusive relatives take care of me if I need it.”
“Call me if you need anything. I’m taking Emily home.”
“Sure, Luke. See you on Monday.”
Luke walked out while Sheldon glared at him.
“Good thing,” Saks said when Luke cleared the hall, “that I’m incapacitated, or I’d twist your head off. What the hell was that, insulting Luke?”
“Try it, Anthony. You haven’t been able to beat the shit out of me. Ever. And I’m not saying anything the family hasn’t been saying, especially since last summer. Damn it, Anthony. The man, his uncle, the whole Hades’ Spawn thing is ready to blow up. You don’t need to be in the middle of it.”
“I’m not discussing it.”
“Oh, no. Why do you think Uncle Vits wants you to be the one to marry the Serafina girl?”
Saks scoffed, which sent a shiver of pain through him. “Well, she isn’t my type. It’s not happening.”
Sheldon stepped to Saks and lowered his face so that he was nose to nose with his cousin. “You listen to me, che cazzo, the familia is not going to put up with any more shit from the Spawn and Wade’s Mexican uncle. One more piece of trouble and we’re taking care of them, all of them. We’ve got too much to lose to let those stupidios call attention to us. Do you get it? And you damn well better get right about the idea of marrying into the Serafina family. Because that’s another bit of business we can’t afford to screw up.”
Saks stood up, wincing with the tinge of pain. But he could move, and he intended to. “I’m not a playing piece on the board, Sheldon. I did this as a courtesy to Uncle Vits, but no one is going to make me marry anyone I don’t want to. And so far, from what I’ve seen, I don’t want to. And if anyone tries for a piece of Luke or the Spawn, they’ll have to go through me.” He grunted as he moved to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“None of your fucking business.” Saks pushed his way to the back of the bar and took the back entrance out to the parking lot. He made it to his bike with only a few twinges of sharp pain, but it didn’t mean the ride home was going to be fun. He usually enjoyed night riding, but this was not going to be one of those nights. Saks pulled a reflective vest from his saddlebag. He didn’t like to wear it, but the lighting on the roads wasn’t the best, and he wasn’t feeling up to dodge cages on the road that didn’t see him.
The rumbling of the engine between his legs didn’t help matters either and by the time he made it to his apartment, he had to limp to his door. He collapsed on his bed and threw his arm over his eyes. What a fucking night!
He had to give her credit. That Chrissy sure could kick. His balls still throbbed uncomfortably, and a ghost of stomach pain fluttered through his abused stomach muscles. It wasn’t all Chrissy, though. The motorcycle ride to his apartment made things worse, just like he’d made the situation worse for his family.
Fuck! How did he screw that up so thoroughly? Not that he regretted a single stolen moment with Chrissy. That woman was so fine that he’d do it all over if he could get close to her again. Okay, maybe not get kneed in the nuts, but close. He liked that spitfire nature she hid under her calm and collected pricey clothes, makeup, and hair.
But his family wasn’t happy with him. He didn’t make the connection with the Serafina woman he was supposed to. The next conversation with Uncle Vits wouldn’t be a good one, especially when he had to tell Vits there was no way he was going to marry the woman.
There could be no other choice. Images of Chrissy burned through his body, and every stray thought turned to her. He’d never had it this bad before, and he suspected he never would again.
Shit. Did he love her? He couldn’t. He didn’t know enough about her, hadn’t had enough time with her to be properly in love. But, he admitted, he was seriously in lust with his golden-haired goddess, even if she pushed him away.
Nope. He wasn’t going to give up on Chrissy. Even if she hung out with tall, dark, and stupid. Saks would kiss thoughts of that dimwit right out of her brain. And with thoughts of her his cock stirred, but that didn’t help the ache in his balls. With a grunt, he rolled off the bed and limped to his fridge. A half tray of ice sat in his freezer. It would have to do. As he was tossing the cubes into a plastic bag, his doorbell rang.
Chrissy? He hurried across the living room and looked through the peep hole, but it was too dark. He put the chain across the door. “Girl, you got a—”
“Open up, pendajo. It’s me, Pez.”
Saks froze, pissed it wasn’t who he thought it was. “Why the hell should I do that, man? You fucking kidnapped me.”
“I’ve got news for your boy, Wizard.”
What the hell? Then Saks remembered that Pez had hung the name ‘Wizard’ on Luke, which caused all kinds of trouble with the Spawn. Pez made it seem that Luke was defecting to the Rojos by hanging a club name on him.
“He ain’t called Wizard. It’s Spade if you’re going to use a club name.”
“Yeah, yeah, pendajo.”
“And I don’t appreciate being called an asshole, either. Now get the hell out of here. It’s late. And you’re supposed to stay away from the Spawn.”
“Correction, cabron. I’m to stay away from Luke and his lovely bride. That’s the court order. But you didn’t get a protective order, so here I am.”
Saks pushed the slightly open door to shut it, but Pez stuck the tip of his boot inside the door.
“Look,” Pez said. “I’m just warning you that the feds are about to bust your boy’s bike shop.”
“Why? Luke hasn’t done shit.”
“You know that, and I know that, cabron. But the feds seem to think the Spawn stink to high heaven.”
“And who would’ve given them that impression?” Saks asked sarcastically.
“Why don’t you ask your cousin?”
Saks was rapidly getting annoyed with this ass. “I’ve got a lot of cousins.”
“The detective,” Pez spat.
“I’ve just got one word for you, Pez. Ffangul. Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah,” he said sourly. “I know what it means.”
“Good, now move your boot from my door or you’ll be making a trip to the hospital with a broken foot.”
“Try to help someone,” Pez muttered. But he moved his foot and Saks slammed the door shut. A loud bang resounded from the outside, which Saks took as Pez hitting the door with his hand.
“Good, hope you broke your hand, stunad!” But yelling at the little cockroach didn’t make Saks feel any better. In fact, now he was worried. It wasn’t usual for him to pepper his language with Italian insults. Saks had given that up when he struck out to build a life apart from his family. It was just a measure of how upset he was that he fell into old childhood habits.
He grabbed his bag of ice and hobbled to his bed. He let his jeans fall to the floor and laid on his bed, the cold bag resting between his legs. Saks didn’t know what was worse, the ice or the ache, but he knew all he wanted to do was go to sleep and forget tonight ever happened. He’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.
But he couldn’t sleep. Pez’s words replayed in his head, and Sheldon’s last words to him did, too. Fuck. He was twenty-eight fucking years old and, despite his best efforts, his family was still screwing with him.
He briefly reviewed the Florida option, but the truth was he hated Florida. It was too hot, and these days too damned crowded with the older set to be any fun. Plus, he would miss his club and his friends. And though he didn’t want to admit it, he’d miss a certain golden-haired goddess who claimed too many of his thoughts recently.
Saks picked up his phone and briefly considered calling his cousin Luigi, who went by the name of Louis. His finger hovered over the contact information in his phone as he debated if it was too late to call him. A cramp hit him then and his finger struck the face of the phone. But it wasn’t Anglotti’s number he called. Chrissy’s name displayed at the top of the phone, and he swore. He moved his finger to disconnect, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“Hello,” an out of breath Chrissy greeted. He wondered what that was about, but he wasn’t going to hang up now.
“Um, hi. How are you doing?”
“You call me after midnight to ask how I’m doing?”
“Excuse me. I thought I’d apologize for getting all handsy, but I can see it was a wasted call.”
“Sorry, Saks. It’s been a rough night.”
“Yeah, I know something about that. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”
“We’re both pretty sorry, aren’t we?”
“I guess.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t mean to—to do that.”
“Fine,” he said, ignoring the throbbing in his balls.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“What? Clipping me in the family jewels? Nah. There’s only one way you can hurt me.”
She hesitated. “How’s that?”
“If you turn me down for dinner tomorrow night.”
