chair. “Is it so fucking hard to believe that I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you, Marra?” he said evenly, calmly. “Is it a damn mystery that I would want to interact with you on more than just a sexual level?”
She didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know what to say to any of that. She had assumed Joey wanted her as a piece of ass, and because she kept refusing his advances he got more adamant on having her. It was like he wanted her more because he couldn’t have her, and Joey Bacelli was used to getting what he wanted. “Yes, Joey, it is a little surprising, given the fact you are…” She licked her lips, not sure if it was smart to say what she had been about to say out loud.
He leaned forward once more, now looking very interested in this conversation. “Say it, Marra. The fact that I’m what?”
“That you run the Bacelli crime family,” she said quickly and on a long breath.
He smirked and leaned back in his seat. “So because I chose to live my life a certain way means I would let an innocent woman die?”
Marra stayed still, and when she didn’t answer and he stood and walked toward her, she finally found the strength to push back against the headboard. The scent of him filled her nose as he came closer, and it was the same spicy, potent cologne she smelled on him every time he came into the café.
It was subtle, yet dark and dangerous. And when he sat on the edge of the bed and she felt the heat from his body surround her, she started to feel lightheaded. Joey reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from her face.
“You need a shower,” he said and removed his hand from her. “You have blood all over you.” He stared into her eyes, and she got lost in the grey depths. “I have some questions I want to ask you, but I’ll let you get cleaned up first.” He didn’t move right away. He had one arm caging her in place on the bed beside her outer thighs, and the other on his lap. She felt like a small animal, a piece of meat in this predator’s clutches.
“How long do you plan on keeping me here?”
He leaned back an inch, not enough to give her breathing room, though. “We won’t worry about that right now, because we have other pressing issues that need to be laid out.” He stood and moved over to the door. “The shower is through that door.” He pointed to the bathroom she had already scouted out as such. “There are some clothes on the shelf for you, and when you’re finished meet me out in the living room.” And with that he turned, left the room, and shut the door behind him.
7
Joey grabbed the bottle of bourbon off the counter and poured a shot for himself. He could have laughed at the absurdity of drinking bourbon and having another residence in the town of Bourbon.
It was pretty fucking cliché, but what did he care? He poured himself another shot, and once he finished that off he drank a third.
He had nowhere to be tonight, and every reason in the world to get good and trashed, although he reminded himself he needed to keep a clear head because he still had to ask Marra what she had heard from Mario and that Gondalo fucker. Even now Joey could see the snake tattoo that had been inked on the neck of the fucker he had blasted.
Michael had the same tattoo in the same spot, and it was some kind of gang mark, which led Joey to believe that the Gondalo crew was nothing more than an organized group that had nothing better to do than try to start turf wars.
He took one more shot and pushed the bottle aside. Since the Gondalo crew moved in to the town right next to Bourbon six months back, Joey had let it go. They had kept to themselves, running petty money-making scams that didn’t interfere with anything Joey or the Bacelli crew had working, and didn’t test the boundaries of his power.
But slowly they had started coming into his town, eating at his businesses, and starting to make it known that they were trying to set roots. He had no fucking clue who their Boss thought he was, but Joey had had enough of Carlos’ shit, and a