Rubbing my eyes, I grimaced at the state of my hands. They were still bruised from the fights. There were fresh splits over old scars from dealing with Milo, and I'd had to dispose of another issue the night before, and I still hadn't been to bed yet.
Fucking Milo was out. How he pulled off getting out early after being in goddamn solitary, I had no idea. Saddling me with the Hellspawn was the worst idea ever. I ripped open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. I should probably make sure she ate. I debated it for about thirty seconds, then discarded it.
Enraged Hellspawn probably only consumed and breathed fire. I downed half the bottle of beer on my way to the alarm box hidden behind the painting on the wall. I rarely used it but now, better safe the sorry. Rome knew the code if he needed in and everyone else could go fuck themselves.
The code I typed in would not allow the front door's deadbolt to unlock without a key or a code.
That would at least keep her in the apartment.
Milo wanted her safe. Rome wanted her happy and safe.
I just wanted her out of my hair and not giving me issues. Issues I didn't need to have, like the fucking boner I'd been walking around with since she put her arms around me on the bike. My dick picked today to wake up.
After draining the bottle, I dropped it in the recycle bin back in the kitchen and rolled my head from side to side. The vertebrae cracked. My eyes burned. My head ached. The plan had been in flux for years, but I was close and I didn't want another damn detour.
Grabbing a second bottle out, I headed for my bathroom and a shower. Then I was going to sleep. Maybe for a week.
I belched, loudly and with fierceness as I reached the door to my room. No way Hellspawn missed that. Old habits, however, were hard to break. "Excuse me."
Not bothering to wait for her response, I nudged my door closed, but also left it cracked. Having someone else in my space, who wasn't my brother, would make me restless enough. After I locked my guns in the safe, I stripped off the rest of my clothes and headed for the shower.
The hot water felt fucking fabulous against my aching muscles and stung where the skin had been scraped raw. One of my shoulders had taken the brunt of the hit against the metal bracing. My dick kept tapping my stomach like I'd forgotten about his engorged state.
I'd never been so tempted to flip off my own dick before. Since it was still aching by the time I finished washing up, I added some conditioner to my hand and ran it over my cock from tip to base.
Eyes closed and dick in hand, I tightened my fist and began to rub one out. The problem was nothing worked, until Hellspawn's furious face popped into my head. Whether it was the wildness in her eyes when she popped me in the alley, or the ferociousness when she got in Milo's face, holy fuck did it turn me on.
Grown men were wary of Milo. He was quiet. Easy going. Polite. But he was also dangerous as fuck and she didn't give a damn. She'd charged in there like she'd been ready to take him on and I half-thought, you know, she probably would have.
A groan escaped my lips as I could see her fierce expression as I sank into her. The bite of her nails digging into my shoulders. She would claw me up and I'd fucking live for it. Just the thought of the velvety heat and sinking between her thighs had me coming like a teenager. The spurts hit the wall and I let out another groan and a sigh.
That helped with some of the tension. It wasn't until after I'd dried off and finished my shave that it really hit me. I'd just jerked off to thoughts of fucking Milo's kid sister. One he put here for me to protect because he thought she was too damn fragile for the clubhouse.
Only she's not a kid. And fragile was not the word I would use for her.
Worse, she was the girl Rome was falling for. I stared at myself in the mirror and shook my head. My dick didn't get to make decisions for me. Rome wanted her and I wasn't getting in the way of that.
Fuck.
My dick twitched and I swore if the damn thing had a voice it would be saying, liar, liar, pants on fire.
It was official. I'd lost my fucking mind.
I was talking to my dick. With a roll of my eyes, I killed the lights and headed for my bed. The blackout curtains kept the daylight away and I could use a solid four or five hours.
Maybe I'd get lucky and manage six.
I set the phone on the wireless charge and fell into the bed. My head barely touched the pillows and my eyes closed over grit when my ringing phone jerked them open again.
Fuck me sideways. I sat up with a snarl and reached for the phone. "Knight," I answered simply with my rank rather than my name. "What do you need?"
The king on the phone was quiet, but I didn't rush him. Fuck knew he wouldn't be rushed. Instead, I waited him out like the humble servant I was. I rubbed at my tired eyes as I waited and swung my feet to the floor. If it took too long, I was going to need coffee. Chugging two beers that rapidly would hardly make me drunk, but on top of how tired I was?
"I would like an explanation," the man on the phone said. "About the current plan and why our real estate portfolio is looking rather thin compared to this time last year."
Yeah. Definitely needed coffee for that.
I stalked out to the kitchen, even as I pulled together the mental information he required. "There's been an upswing in the market here. Gentrification is well under way, but there are a lot of owners who are holding out or who aren't willing to part with their lots—not when they might profit from higher values around them."
"What are you doing about it?"
"Handling it," I told him smoothly as I got the coffee brewing. The smell penetrated my brain fog faster than anything else. "Do you require details or plausible deniability?"
It was a gamble. Pushing the king on any subject often was. The head of the Bay Ridge Royals had not earned that position by being a light hand. While I'd not met him, my rank didn't allow for it—but soon, soon I'd move from Knight to Bishop and when that happened?
When that happened, I was in the door.
"I will accept plausible deniability," the man said after an interminable silence. "But I want results. If next quarter resembles this one, Knight, you will no longer have your position."
Or my head.
Got it.
"Understood, my liege." I rolled my eyes, but only because the sick fuck couldn't see me. Who the hell wanted to be called that? The whole chess board names and favoring ranks from a royal court was fine, but it was also pretentious as hell. "Can I help you any more today?"
Another significant pause ensued as my coffee finished and I scrubbed a hand over my face. I actually checked the phone to make sure it was still connected, because the silence elongated beyond what was reasonable. Instead of chafing verbally at the delay, I filled a mug with coffee and knocked back a healthy swallow, despite the fact it actually tried to scald my throat.
"Milo Hardigan."
I didn't choke, but that was only practice coming into play. Emptying my voice of anything resembling interest, I said, "He's in jail."
"Not anymore."
Goddammit. Milo hadn't been back a fucking day.
"Approach the 19 Diamonds, secure their efforts into getting rid of the 82nd Street Vandals. Then we'll wipe out the Diamonds."
"That might be a little challenging," I admitted. "I just took one of their businesses, because their negotiator was exceptionally rude."