I clawed his back, drawing blood, and he pumped into me even harder, but with a control that was perfectly executed each and every time. I squeezed around him, once, twice, and then we both came at the same time. It was loud, and ugly, and had left us both weakened. Fucking him was like going to battle to keep a little of myself in place, before it landed in his hands. He was the kind of man who easily consumed whatever he touched.
We stood that way for a while, him between my legs, me still on the counter, both breathing heavy. When he pulled out, I hopped off the counter, losing my balance. He caught and steadied me. My knees were weak.
I looked up at his face. His pieces fit together perfectly, even if they were put back together a few times, and it was impossible for me not to admire the entire picture for what it was. Art.
“I’m not clear water, darlin’,” he said. “Stop trying to see into my soul.”
No, and he wasn’t rough waters, either. My Da always said that still waters ran deep. A Cash Kelly idiom if there ever was one. It meant that silent people were more dangerous than loud ones. “I wouldn’t dare,” I said.
There’s more than one way into a no trespassing zone, though—and I already found a way into his. Through his skin.
I slid my hand up his arm, nice and slow, and his eyes lowered. “All night,” I whispered. “Let’s forget all night.”
He took my hand and led me back into the bedroom.
17
Cash
I hadn’t had a smoke since that night on the fire escape. It was something I did to ease my mind, because if not, I’d fight insomnia. Or raging headaches. I wasn’t lying to the archer when I told her that my old man haunted me. It wasn’t his ghost, but what he’d left behind. A responsibility to carry on his legacy.
The only opinions I ever honored were my old man’s. I respected my brother, but our perspectives had always been aligned differently. He always had the need to ask questions. I went in having trust that our old man would never lead us astray.
He’d fought for and claimed one of the most ruthless areas of New York to run. He’d gained his community’s trust and respect, even though he was feared.
Not like Lee Grady and his family, who got into bed with the Scarpones to distribute drugs to his own community. Their drug trade ruined marriages, families, careers. It ruined lives. It took all that my father worked most of his life for, even died to protect, and buried it underneath powder.
My mind refused to accept it. So it kept me up night after night. Even in prison, because I was a caged animal without an escape.
I thought of Grady nonstop. How he had set my old man up to be slaughtered.
I thought of the Scarpones nonstop. How they had been a part of it for greed.
I thought of Scott Stone nonstop. How he had cuffed my old man and made him an easy target.
Nothing made me stop salivating for the day the streets of Hell’s Kitchen would be mine.
Even if the rest of the world was overrun with drugs, my area wouldn’t be. We’d celebrate marriage, honor families, and give every man and woman a chance at a career—at a better life.
Stealing a heart out of revenge was at odds with celebrating marriage, but I had every intention of honoring every vow I spoke to Keely Kelly at the altar.
I stopped walking for a minute, thinking about something other than vengeance or chaos in what felt like the first time in my entire life.
No matter how much I fucking despised it, because I knew she’d use it as ammo, the archer put me to sleep like a lullaby. I’d fucked her all night, and then right before the sun came up, fell hard into that space where nothing exists. No noise. No sight. No disruptions.
The archer could’ve killed me in my sleep and I wouldn’t have had a clue.
She was worse than a drug. She was the addiction.
“Power of the pussy,” I muttered to myself, opening the door to my office building. “That’s all it is, Kelly.”
“Mr. Kelly!” Susan, my secretary, popped up from behind her desk. She narrowed her eyes at me after she had really taken me in. “You’re late.”
“Your watch is fast,” I said, checking mine, realizing that I