Riding Dirty: Luciotti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) - Kara Hart Page 0,40

you to tell you that you can’t run forever. The world is far too small. And my daughter IS my daughter. She’s daddy’s little girl. Remember? A daughter needs her father.

P.S. Lucas is not who you think he is. He’s evil, Dahlia. He’s a dealer, a killer, and he’ll only bring you darkness.

With all my love, Cade.

What the fuck? Cade. There it was. In plain sight. The man I needed to find. And the whole story started to connect right in front of my eyes. Cade was her ex. All of that baggage related back to him. Jen. His daughter. And of course, I was tied all up in it. This has got to be a joke or a dream, or a nightmare. But every time I tried to pinch myself, I wouldn’t wake up. No, this was reality alright. And I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Truth be told, I was fucked.

11

Dahlia

It was more than anger. It was more than fear. It felt like someone poured a bucket of sand in my mouth as the ex-love of my life held my mouth open and pinched my nose shut. I wasn’t prepared for this. Nobody told me being a single mother would be this difficult.

And to find out Lucas was a fucking drug dealer? Another drug dealer?! It was as if I had a magnet that pulled in every shady asshole close to me.

“I’m not a drug dealer,” he said to me, after I clocked out of my shift.

“I knew there was something weird. I knew it! That’s why Carmelo has been acting so weird, isn’t it? Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick.” I knelt down against the curb and held my stomach. My whole world was spinning and I was out of answers, with no direction.

“Calm the fuck down. I can explain everything to you if you just hear me out,” he said. All his charm, his towering stature, and good looks meant nothing now. It disgusted me to even think about what happened in the kitchen. To think I even kissed the prick.

“Just leave me alone. I need to pick up Jen from summer school,” I said, shielding my eyes from even looking at him. I didn’t know whether I wanted to cry or to bite his neck and tear his jugular out. Yes, I was that angry. My child was involved and no one fucked with my daughter.

“I’ve never sold a drug in my life,” he said. “I have a code.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around, finally facing him. “A code? Who are you? Like, for real. Who the hell are you? Why are you in Monroe? I know you didn’t come here just to enjoy the beautiful scenery. What are you up to? Is your name really Lucas?” I asked, waiting for a response. Although, I didn’t expect much from him.

“Come here.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the alleyway, looking around. “You want to know who I am? Where I come from? Do you? Because once you know, there’s no coming back from that information.”

“I want to know,” I said. “I need to know.”

“Then come with me,” he said, dragging me to his car. “We’re going for a ride.”

* * *

He took me to the house he was staying at in Monroe. Thank God for that. For a second there, I thought he might take me to Detroit and kill me or something. At this point, I had absolutely no clue who this man really was, and that frightened me to no end.

We stepped onto the gravel and leaves, and rustled up to his front door. “Come in,” he said, pushing the door open for me. At least he was still a gentleman.

The inside of the house was normal. It was a bit plain, actually. Pictures of men from the old days, all dressed in fine Italian suits. Some were holding cigars and gesturing wildly, while others bore serious postures and expressions. Nothing was out of the ordinary. That is, until I saw the pistol on the table.

“Don’t worry. It’s not loaded,” he said.

“What is a pistol doing on the kitchen table? Who the hell are you?” I shouted, backing away from him.

“Sit down,” he said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. He grabbed two clean glasses and poured two cups.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” I muttered, pushing the glass away from me.

“Drink it. It’s a gift from Carmelo,” he said. Carmelo? How