Taking His Victory: (The Men of River City book 4) Page 11

  “I’ve never been afraid to commit. Just haven’t found anyone worth the effort.”

  “Until now,” Jax adds.

  Rory and Bastian both turn their eyes to me. Curiosity and questions fill them as they wait for me to elaborate. Then, before I can, realization comes into both their eyes. “The girl from New York?” Rory asks me with a look very similar to mischief in his eyes. It fucking unnerves the hell outta me. Rory McCabe doesn’t get looks like that.

  I don’t bother denying what he says. I just give a casual shrug.

  “So, where’s the problem? You found someone worth the time, so commit,” he tells me with more curiosity brimming in his eyes.

  “He’s not the one with the commitment issues,” Jax tells them.

  “Well, damn. Zane Valen found a girl he can’t charm into his bed?”

  My lips pull down into a scowl as a rumble moves around in my chest. “Holy shit, Sebastian Delrie got a girl that he can’t walk away from?” I counter.

  His face falls into a matching scowl as we stare each other down.

  “Cut the shit, you two,” Rory bellows.

  “For the record,” I say still staring at Bastian, “I could’ve fucked her months ago if that’s what I wanted.”

  “Then why haven’t you?” Bastian growls as if he’s challenging me to something. To prove what I’m saying.

  “Because that’s all she wants,” Jax answers.

  Christian, Tristan and a few others walk into the room, and the conversation comes to a halt. A few minutes later, an older man with thinning dark hair and even darker eyes comes on the screen behind us. Sitting next to him is a man probably around Rory’s age with an arrogance to him that makes me want to punch him in the face. It’s not the same kind of arrogance that each of us in this room have. It’s an entitlement and superiority that pisses me the fuck off much like that fucking host guy in the restaurant in New York. Something about the guy just really rubs me the wrong way, and I am only seeing video. I don’t even want to know how this unease – this urge to wipe that smug look off his creeper looking face would be in person.

  The meeting commences discussing the acquisition of the older man’s distribution company that Rory and Bastian have been working on for months now. Acquiring GioDistributing would make Diamond Industries much richer than it already is. It would make us the largest distribution company in the country and give us quite a monopoly. It would also give River City Mafia a monopoly on many arms channels.

  A while back, Rory and Bastian needed some liquid capital for a project and Jax and I needed someplace to invest our money. Someplace we knew we wouldn't get fucked. Diamond Industries is mostly above board as far as business goes, so Rory had no issues with he and Bastian selling Jax and I part of their shares in the company.

  Where River City mafia is concerned, Rory has tried to keep Jax and I far away from the illegal activities he’s involved with. For the most part, we do stay out of it, if only because we’re fucking busy all the time. But when they need us, they call us. Bastian makes sure of that. And I don’t mind getting my hands dirty – or bloody.

  The older we've gotten, and the more things change within the syndicate, the harder it has been to keep us out. The part that got Jax and I on board was the ability to shut down some of the human trafficking going on in our territory and a few others. There would be no way to ever shut that shit down completely, but any kind of effort to stop women and kids from being taken and abused is all the incentive we needed to get on board.

  A few hours later, we’ve all agreed to give Giovani market value for his company. More than Rory and Bastian have ever offered anyone else, but they really want that company. Bastian really wants that company. He’s already figured out how it will benefit every aspect of the business, and how much more inventory they can move without the hassle they have to go through right now.

  As I’m walking out, Bastian grabs my arm to get me to turn around. “If you’ve been trying to get this chick to do – whatever with you for weeks now, what the fuck was all that with Verity the first night you met her?”

  I raise an eyebrow at him with a smirk. When I got Jax and Zoey together, I more or less told my best friend to pull his head out of his ass and get the girl. With Rory and Layla, I used a bit of flirtation to make Rory acknowledge what he wanted because he already knew what his feelings were.

  With Bastian, I did the same thing, but with a lot more effort to convince him I was really interested in the girl. In another time and place, I definitely would’ve been. Verity is fucking amazing and beautiful as an angel. Fortunately, she only had eyes for the asshole in front of me, and his jealously poured out of him like hot lava. If he weren’t so goddamned stubborn, he would’ve have grabbed her and taken her away that night.

  He didn’t. I continued to spend time with Verity and got a really good friend out of the deal. A friend I will probably kick Sebastian’s ass over if he breaks her heart. Verity is special and deserves to be shown that she is.

  “You little motherfucker,” Bastian hisses when he realizes I got to him like I did the others.

  I pat him on the back with a laugh, then turn and walk out the door.

  I walk into Bastian’s loft with full intentions of giving him absolute hell over Verity. The guy has been losing his mind over her for days, and she has been running from him out of fear of their hearts getting broken. That may have been my doing. I’m the one who warned her not to break his. I meant it too. Bastian has been a brick wall where his emotions are concerned for years. If his heart gets broken, those walls may become steel reinforced.

  But I still want to give him hell.

  Until I see Verity sitting on the sofa curled into Bastian. I keep my well-practiced smile in place, but fuck seeing her like that is very reminiscent of Zoey. I’m shocked Jax isn’t picking up on the vibe, but he is basically sleeping with his head leaning back.

  “How can you be so fucking happy at this hour?” he groans as he clutches a pillow off the sofa.

  I see some of the tension in Verity’s shoulders relax as I approach. “You good, darlin’?” I ask as I give her a peck on the cheek.

  “Yeah, Zee.” She leans into me a bit. Even though he’s trying to hide it, Bastian doesn’t like one bit that she relaxed and smiled when I walked in the door. I hold back a chuckle as I realize the fucker has finally got his shit together where she's concerned.

  “Yeah, she’s great,” Rory sneers.

  Bastian shoots him a look that would probably kill him if he weren’t made of ice.

  “I’m sorry I caused problems,” she apologizes softly.

  “Ignore him,” Jax says as he leans back against the sofa. “He’s just pissy because Layla put him on the sofa.”

  “Because of me?” Verity asks nervously.

  “No. Because I brought home the wrong type of bread. Goddamned fucking hormones.”

  I chuckle finding his predicament absolutely hilarious. Layla has him wrapped around her little finger. If she’s miserable then he is definitely miserable, but it serves his ass right for shutting down everyone and everything else for so damn long. Of course, we’ve all found out Layla had a part in that too. It’s hilarious to see Rory without his balls. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person. Except for maybe Bastian, but I don’t quite foresee the same outcome with Verity. She and Layla couldn’t be more different. She definitely has him wrapped and he is losing his balls as we speak, but the dynamic there is different because she is different.

  I look over to Bastian with my biggest asshole smirk. “Glad to see you took my advice.”

  Jax and Rory sit up like I just told them their wives were about to perform a strip tease. “Your advice?” Jas questions with a smirk.

  “Of course, it was him. He’s some kind of fucking romance savant,” Rory grumbles as he tosses back a drink.

  I shake my head with a chuckle. I’m not a romance anything. I just know those three guys better than anyone. And I
pay attention to people. If I were some kind of romance genius, Tori wouldn’t still be fighting what I know - can see she feels.

  Christian walks in a few minutes later looking like he just got laid. “What took you so long?” Rory barks.

  “He was coming from Hunter’s place,” Tristan says it like he just said Christian was coming from the store.

  Mine and Jax’s eyes grow wide that the cat is out of the bag. I see Bastian wince. Apparently, it’s not a big secret except from Rory.

  Rory throws himself a fit, yelling about dealing with Layla which he will definitely have to do. More likely than not, this shit will land him in the doghouse for sure, even if he can’t control Hunter or Christian.

  Then we finally move on to why we’re here, and it blows my mind. I definitely never saw it coming, but I knew the minute that Bastian started talking with Verity in the room, Rory would lose his shit.

  But my focus stays on Verity. You’d think I would have been better prepared to catch her when she ran. You’d think that out of everyone here, I’d be the one most likely to catch her before she reaches the door. But not only do I miss all the signals that she’s about to bolt, the girl is fast as fuck. I mean holy hell.

  Bastian, fortunately, has dealt with her running a few times now, and knew to get in front of her. “Calmati, Principessa,” he tells her.

  She starts shaking her head as tears flow down her face. Whatever is going on is scaring the fuck out of her, and again, she is reminding me a bit of Zoey. Only this time, I can see that Jax recognizes it too. His shoulders tense and his eyes are darker, the demons he’s been fighting since what happen to Zoey, swirl vividly in his eyes.

  “They’ll tell I’m here,” I hear her sob to Bastian.

  “Do you trust me, Principessa?” She gives him a nod, so he continues. “Then trust me when I say no one in this room will tell anyone you’re here. Not now. If and when we do, it won’t be for some exchange. It will be to tell them you aren’t going back.”

  I walk up behind her and place my hands on her shoulders. She turns and practically throws herself into my arms out of fear. “Come talk to us, Darlin’.”

  She looks between Bastian and me before nodding.

  I pull her into my side. I don’t care if it pisses Bastian off. The girl needs someone to make her feel safe. I’m sure he could do the job except you can feel his anger building, growing, and radiating from him.

  He begins to explain to us what’s going on. Suddenly, all of my wariness regarding the douche from the meeting the other day are completely justified even if I can tell that we aren’t getting the entire story. I don’t need it. I can feel in the way her body is trembling almost violently the rest of the story, and it fucking pisses me off.

  For some reason, Tristan’s brain and mouth are not communicating tonight. He begins to run off in grand fashion like he’s suicidal or something. I may not be afraid of Bastian, but I know the fucker is deadly. I also know, you never talk shit about a guy’s girl. Not like Tristan is doing for damn sure. Even the most peaceful of dudes would lose their shit to protect the girl they love. Sebastian Delrie would probably leave a trail of bloody bodies.

  Bastian is about to go after Tristan again Rory grips him by the arm gesturing toward the girl curled into me sobbing violently as I stroke her hair. He reaches out for her, and she accepts his hand. His focus is on his girl, and I feel proud of the guy. For the first time in years, he cares about someone. He’s always cared about us, but this is different.

  We begin to make our way out. Jax gives Verity a hug as we leave.

  “I want that fucker skinned alive,” Jax hisses as we climb into my truck.

  “I’m pretty sure, at some point, we’ll get our chance. You saw that look on Bastian’s face. He would’ve killed Tristan tonight if we hadn’t been there as a buffer,” I tell him as I exit Bastian’s ground floor garage.

  “You did get the same feeling I got, right?”

  “Yeah, I got the same feeling,” I admit.

  “I wish I could torch scum like that,” he hisses. “Alton got off too easy.”

  “I agree,” I growl as we make our way onto our meeting with Coach.

  “Where are you taking me?” Tori asks as we speed down the freeway from the airport.

  “I promised you real food when you come back, and that’s what I’m doing.”

  She throws her head back with a laugh. Fuck, I love seeing her laugh. Seeing her happy. “Are you taking me to ‘Maw maw’s’?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing, Baby.”

  She laughs again sending a jolt straight to my cock.

  To my cock that has been less than happy with me. I haven’t gone without sex for more than a few days in years. That is until now. It’s been six fucking months of me cockblocking myself and my dick is probably wondering if I’ve joined the priesthood.

  I turn on the radio. One of Them Girls comes on the radio, making me chuckle because damn if that song isn’t Tori and me.

  She groans beside me. I glance toward her with an eyebrow cocked. “Problem?” I ask.

  “You would be one of those boys,” she groans like she’s in physical pain.

  “Those boys?”

  “Country boys. The kind that like country music.”

  The corners of my lips twitch as I fight the laughter that threatens. “I didn’t know country music was delegated to a specific geography or development.”

  “Well, it’s in the name,” she tells me like that was the dumbest statement I could make. I don’t say anything though. I just wait for her to elaborate. “You know, down here? The south? Everything is God, fried chicken, and country music.”

  “So now you’re stereotyping an entire region?”

  “No, but you have to admit country music is more for -,”

  “Southern redneck hicks?”

  “What! No that’s not what I meant.”

  “So, you mean it’s for people who don’t know anything about culture or class?”

  “NO! Zane, that’s not what -. What I mean is -.”

  I have to admit, it’s pretty funny making her squirm. She has stepped in it, which I've learned she does often, and she can’t see her way out. I am not going to make it easy for her either. I will never make things easy because easy means you get lazy. Getting lazy is how relationships go to hell and die a slow death.

  It's hard work to make a relationship work. No matter how well you know a person, it takes time, patience, and the ability to forgive for a relationship to grow. I want to always work my ass off for her and I want her to do the same for me. “You meant that the sophisticated people of New York would never dare listen to country music since it is so far beneath their refined taste?”

  Her face is beet red. Her eyes begin to dart nervously as she fidgets in her seat. She is frustrated, embarrassed and getting a little pissed. It's too fucking cute. “No. You know I don’t know what I meant.”

  “How many people do you know listen to it?”

  “Just you and Pete,” she tells me with a shrug like it should be obvious.

  “And Pete is?” I cast a glance in her direction. She’s not looking at me. In fact, she looks like she wants to jump out of the truck. It’s funny as hell.

  “Pete is the man that raised me. He listens to country music. God, does he listen to country music. All the time. Nonstop. The stupid wailing and moaning and the broken hearts and tractors and oh my god.”

  It all comes out in an exasperated huff and I can’t hold back my laugh this time. I laugh for a good minute or two before I can finally stop. When I look at her face, I nearly start again. She is so serious and, honestly, more than a little pissed.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You don’t like it, but have you really listened to it?”

  “Of course, I have. Did you not just hear me say that it’s all Pete would listen to?”

  I laugh shaking my head. I grab my phone and start the song over.

  “Really!”

/>   I grab her hand and bring it to my mouth then entwine our fingers together. “Just listen to the words. Forget the music and forget the twang.”

  “Fine,” she says with a huff.

  I turn the song up and watch her out of the corner of my eye as I drive. Her face is scrunched, and I get the feeling the only reason her arms aren’t folded tight across her chest is because I have her hand in mine. Then I see the corner of her mouth twitch. I can see her eyes flicker and light up as she really listens.

  She turns to me when the song is over as we pull into the parking a lot. I stop whatever she’s about to say with a shake of my head. She doesn't need to explain. I can see she gets it. I don't want her to say anything about us because I know how she feels, even when she can't say it. She'll get there but if she tries right now, it won't be the truth, and I don't want her making light of how I feel.

  I help her out of the truck then I’m leading her inside. She takes a look around, taking in the tables that have the menus under the laminate. The black and white vinyl flooring is clean, but clearly well used. The wallpaper is something out of the seventies and peeling badly.

  Jax and I have tried to give Opal, the sixty-five-year-old owner, the money to have repairs done, but she constantly refuses. She says that changing everything would be like changing the heart and soul of a person.

  I slide us into the booth Jax, Zoey, and I usually share. The same fucking booth we’ve been sharing since we were teenagers.

  “Real food, Darlin’. It won’t be pretty, but it will taste better than anything you’ve ever had.”

  She gives me a doubtful look. “I live in New York. Do you really think the food here can beat a city of that size?”

  “I would ask if you would like to wager on that, but I’m not about to hustle you like that,” I taunt her.

  “Oh no, pretty boy. You want to make a bet. Let’s make a bet. I’ve eaten at nearly every restaurant in New York except for the overpriced ones.”

  “What could we possibly bet?”

  “If I win, we have sex,” she demands.