things, is waiting. Once everyone is milling around, he addresses us as a crowd, shouting, “You know the drill. No calling dibs till these crates are completely unloaded. Then it goes by rank.”
I’m never sure exactly where I fit in, rank-wise. I have more face to face time with the head of the family than ninety percent of the men, but I also have no official title in the Village.
I’m a rogue soldier.
Apparently, the guys see me as pretty high up the chain because once the pieces are catalogued and stored, they acquiesce to me, letting me choose after the top officers of the family.
Finding the one I want, I feel its lightness in my hand. Small, but powerful. I tuck it into the holster on my hip.
I guess I like my guns like I like my women; tiny and tough.
Thinking of Tori, I wonder what she’s doing. She’s not due to the club for another hour. From what I’ve pieced together in our discussions, she’s a lot like me. Works at the club, goes home. Hangs out alone. Longs to be living in the Village.
At least for me, I know I’ll be there one day.
She may never get the chance.
The temptation to tell her that I’m a Bachman is strong but it would be a deadly choice—you don’t defy Rockland.
Call me a dreamer, but even despite the challenges I face, I feel that last night was not the end of us.
After work, I dine with the men at the rooftop bar. Have a few drinks. Laugh like I only can when I’m with my Brothers. The weight of my new gun feels nice against my hip.
Matteo takes a seat next to me, putting his arm around me. “Good to see you, little brother. I’ve been beginning to think you’ve given up on partying.”
I say, “Nah. Just work the club so many nights, I usually want a quiet night in when I’m off.”
He elbows me, waggling his brows. “A night in with a lady?”
I shrug. “Once or twice.”
“Anyone I know?” he asks.
Part of me wants to keep her to myself. The other part of me can’t keep anything from Matteo. “Victoria? She works at the club.”
He thinks for a moment. “Victoria... that name sounds familiar. Is she that tiny little thing with the bright blue eyes that used to work at the jewelers?”
I smile. “That’s her.”
He lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “Damn. She’s a hot little number.”
I laugh. “You’re telling me.”
“If I was straight, I would so hit that,” he jokes.
I say, “If you were straight, I wouldn’t introduce you to her. Too much competition for me.”
He takes a sip of his beer. Setting the bottle on the counter, he fiddles with the label. “You see it going anywhere?”
“She’s looking for a Bachman. One who can reveal his identity,” I joke.
He says, “She’s obviously interested in joining the family if she worked for them that long. Wasn’t she there like four years or something?”
I take a sip of my drink. “Yeah. Then Rockland moved her to Gotcha’s.”
He smiles. “And you got the chance to work with her. Nice. Maybe it’s fate.”
My chest feels tight. I look over the city, taking in the lights. With my brother by my side, my words freely shared, my confidence wanes. “I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
He demands, “Why the hell not?”
I meet his eye. “Because for one, she’s got her mind set on being a Beauty and in her eyes, I’m a dead end. Also, because she told me herself when she showed up at my apartment last night. It was the second and final installment of a one-night stand. She won’t be back.”
He studies my face for a moment. “We’ll see. Maybe she got a taste of something she liked.”
“That’d be nice, but I’m not holding my breath.” I finish my beer, hoping my older brother is right.
When I go into work the following day, Tori is in a great mood. She’s moving about light on her feet, like a ballet dancer, serving drinks with a smile on her face. Her usual flirting is toned way down.
Maybe, just maybe she feels the way I do, and that’s what’s got her in such a great mood.
Sliding in next to her behind the bar, I fling a towel over my shoulder. “You’re certainly happy tonight. What gives?”
The smile she gives me in greeting has a strange tinge to it—almost like she feels guilty in my presence. “Oh, it’s nothing.” But