Hero: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Lottie

“I’ve got something for you.”

Jason looked up from where he was sitting at my immediate announcement. I hadn’t even stopped to kiss him first, so he knew I was serious.

His body went completely still at my expression and every part of him focused intently. It would have been intimidating if the power of that stare didn’t set my heart racing for completely different reasons.

“What is it?”

The trip up in the elevator had been as calm as usual, but I was breathing hard by the time I walked in, too excited at finally having something he wanted.

I came forward to sit on the chair opposite, meeting that intense gaze as my stomach fluttered.

“I heard something yesterday. The sort of thing I don’t usually get anywhere near, but Jorge…well, I think he was trying to find reasons for me to stick around.”

Jason frowned at that, but he didn’t interrupt - this was too important to him.

“So I was in the next room, trying to sort out what equipment I should ask him to source, and someone came in way later than usual. I don’t think Jorge remembered that I was there - and I slipped out before I saw him leave. The guy was angry, and they argued about meeting at Jorge’s old warehouse…I’ve never heard any of Jorge’s guys talk to him like that. And Jorge was different too - almost cautious. Sorry, I’m not explaining this clearly, it’s still all going around in my head, and I’m trying not to jump to conclusions…”

“What conclusions do you want to jump to?”

I cocked a brow.

“You don’t want to decide for yourself?”

“Your instincts are good, Lottie - you can tell me the detail after you give the highlights.”

Something warm bubbled up at the compliment, and I was momentarily stunned that his respect could affect me so deeply. Taking a breath, I forgot about my long build up and explanation, and said what I’d wanted to burst out with the moment I walked in the room.

“The guy you spoke about - Dex - I think Jorge is working for him. Or at least, defers to him. The man I heard kept saying how Dexter - that has to be the same guy, right? - wouldn’t approve of them meeting there, how they needed to be careful, how the things they were dealing in were more than the small time street gang stuff he was running—”

“What things?”

“They didn’t say.”

My frustration at that was reflected in his expression, but he nodded for me to continue.

“And Jorge was being conciliatory for once, trying to explain and agreeing with the other guy’s directions. Usually he’d fly off the handle if someone talked to him like that. And then at the end, Dexter’s guy - I never got his name - said
if you want a decent position at the end of all this, you need to get your act together, Jorge.
”

Those were the words that had been flying around in my mind every moment since, the implications so far ranging that I didn’t even know if it was safe to guess at. Jason met my gaze, his eyes acknowledging the same thing.

I spoke out loud, wanting to hear his thoughts - to see whether he agreed with my assessment.

“You think there’s some bigger plan? That Jorge is working on behalf of someone else?”

I could see Jason working through it, the internal calculations flashing through his mind as adrenaline hit him. He jumped to his feet and started pacing as he spoke.

“Could be. That gang came out of nowhere, right from the place…Xero left behind. If Dexter did disappear with him, and they’re coordinating things from over the border…”

I’d seen him in action before, watched as he’d received information before, but never like this. Those times, he’d been the sophisticated, calculating mafia elite - sitting back and considering it carefully before speaking, if he even decided to tell me anything.

Now he was racing through possibilities as if something fierce was driving him - the sharp, intense movements making my pulse race.

“Did you find anything else out about this guy? Nameless, faceless, it’ll be a struggle…”

“I saw him, just briefly—”

“How?”

“I was trying for a glimpse as he stormed out—”

“You shouldn’t have been doing that.”

He frowned with sudden concern, that brief flicker providing a momentary reprieve from his focused pacing. We’d agreed I wouldn’t do anything risky, but…I just looked at him.

Really?

He paused, stopping almost mid-movement as he caught my meaning. The wry smile that appeared a moment later warmed me inside. Even with this news, I liked that his affection was obvious.

“Okay, okay. Thank you for that - even if you shouldn’t have been risking it.”

I just smiled, surprised how good it felt that I’d been able to help. Everything else I’d done, it had felt like I was supporting Valentini - this once, I knew it was for Jason. Even if not having a clue why still bothered me.

“So what did he look like?”

Back to business. It amazed me how quickly that shift could happen.

I opened my mouth to answer, before hesitating. I’d never been good at describing people.

After a couple of beats of silence and Jason looking at me expectantly, I went around to the large wooden desk, searching for the pen and paper most hotels usually placed there.

“Lottie?”

I didn’t answer as I settled down and focused on that brief sight, bringing the memory up in my mind’s eye and then concentrating on recreating it on paper. I felt Jason come to stand behind me, but for once I ignored that, too intent on what I was doing.

A few minutes later, I sat back, a brief sketch in front of me. It wasn’t perfect - the place had been far too dark for that - but at least it was something. I held it out to him and he glanced between the paper and me a couple of times.

“That’s really impressive, Lottie.”

I’ve had practice.

I didn’t say that - instead I just shrugged.

“I’ve always enjoyed drawing people. I’m no artist, but these days I’ve done it enough that I can get a semi-accurate copy down.”

He considered me for a moment.

“You know, it would be amazing if you could do something like this for the rest of Jorge’s gang - just so that we’ve got the information. I can’t even think of all the advantages that would give us.”

My heart rose to my throat, and I was suddenly unspeakably tense as I thought of my little book, hidden away underneath my bed. I was surprised by just how much I wanted to tell him - to admit it all - but it was the last thing that I’d held back. There was so much I didn’t know or understand about Jason, and I was unflinching about sharing myself.

But that…that was my last insurance policy, my fall-back. If something went wrong here and I had to return to what I’d been doing, then that would be all I had left. Somehow, I couldn’t give it over to him when everything between us was still so unclear - so temporary and unacknowledged. Even if every instinct said I should.

He was looking at me strangely, a puzzled line across his forehead, and I spoke quickly - knowing I sounded strange. I was fucking bad at lying - or even not telling the whole truth - to those I trusted. It was something I had almost no practice at.

“Yes…sure, maybe. I can think about that. It—it would be a lot of work. Let me think about it.”

“Are you okay, Lottie?”

I coughed briefly, nodding.

“Yes, just…just thinking it through.”

His eyes narrowed on me, but before he could ask more, I nudged the conversation back to safer ground, nodding towards the paper in his hand.

“So is that useful? What are you thinking of doing with it?”

His eyes returned to it, and that was all it took for his attention to snap away from me. It was crazy how I could see the change in him - the way he stood straighter, muscles tensing with that deadly focus narrowed on what was in front of him.

It almost reminded me of…

“You were in the military.”

I spoke without thinking, but I was too stunned to do anything else as all the little things I’d noticed suddenly fit into place.

“What?!”

His head whipped around to stare at me, and I could tell by his reaction that I was right - and that my comment had hit him hard.

“You were. I can tell - my Dad served for seventeen years. I know the type.”

That’s why all those little things had felt so familiar - and why his intense focus and deadly attitude had always struck me as somewhat comforting.

The scowl on his face was more telling than anything I’d ever seen from him.

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter.”

“What happened?”

I’d recognized that look in his eyes from the beginning - I’d spent most of my childhood around military types, and it was probably half the reason I’d been inclined to trust him. The same fierce and protective care seemed to resonate in all the men I’d known, and I’d seen it in Jason too. Muted and buried perhaps, but there.

“Nothing. It’s nothing to do with anything.”

He shot me a quelling look, but there was an old pain there, barely masked, and I couldn’t bring myself to back down. Jason couldn’t be older than late-twenties at the most, so he obviously hadn’t served for long, he had no major injuries I knew about - my knowledge of his body was pretty intimate now - and he was working in Valentini’s underworld now. I couldn’t just let that go without understanding more.

I stood up and approached him without hesitation, the ugly twist to his expression not deterring me in the slightest. My hands found his hips and I looked up at him, feeling the warm heat of his thighs as I pressed against him. His fingers closed around mine a moment later, moving to detach them - but despite that firm grip and his obvious desire for space, I held on and he didn’t force it. He’d never done anything with that strength to hurt or intimidate me - not once.

Unlike everyone else…

I ignored the internal shudder at Jorge’s attitude recently - his hands and comments had been getting difficult to deal with, and even with the way I point-blank shot him down, the look in his eyes sent shivers down my spine.

Reminding myself of Jason and the way he’d always acted around me had me relaxing again - my heart beating more firmly in my chest as the need to know and understand more pulled at me.

I met his gaze with my own determination.

“No, Jason - a guy like you doesn’t just ditch the army to join a mafia gang. I backed off before, but I want to know what the hell you’re doing now. This—”

My eyes darted to the paper still clenched in his hand.

“This is something more, and it’s getting serious. I’m taking risks for you. Maybe they’re ones you don’t want me to take, but that’s what I’m doing. And I want to know what’s going on before I step into the middle of your personal shit.”

I saw his irritation flaring at my insistence, but there was more to it than just that. I cared about him. I had no idea what we were doing together, but he was the first person to make me feel safe - even if I wasn’t - for as long as I could remember. He was in my mind all the time, and just seeing him had my body vibrating in anticipation of his touch.

I wanted to see more of the light that came into his eyes when he looked at me - and I didn’t want to see it fade when he turned for the door anymore. He didn’t belong in the world he was immersed in, and I didn’t quite dare think about how much I wanted to help him out of it.

He was silent for a long time, just looking at me. I couldn’t even see whatever tumultuous emotions were going through him, and with every heartbeat I felt the distance between us growing as he shut me out, even if we never moved.

Eventually he stepped back, arms crossed over his chest and muscles bulging as he met my gaze, eyes cold. I almost shivered at the sight, something within me breaking a little at that distant regard, but I figured that maybe it wasn’t for me - maybe he needed the distance.

When he began, it was in a monotonous voice, expressionless, as his eyes turned to the middle distance.

“Fine, if you need to know, I’ll tell you. And then I’ll walk out that door and get on with what needs to be done.”

I had no idea what he meant by that - whether he was ending things between us, or stating that he’d need space, or simply literally describing what he would do. My heart skipped at the idea of the former, but I didn’t say anything. This was too important.

“Yes, I was in the army. Infantry. I spent a few years doing the stupid young boy thing - playing the hero, believing I was making a difference in corners of the world that meant nothing to me…”

The bitterness on his face shocked me, as did the immediate way he seemed to shift between acting cold and unfeeling, and those violent emotions flashing across his face.

“Until my home got destroyed. All those years, thinking I was protecting the people I loved - as if you can do that from thousands of miles away. No, instead I should have been here—if I’d been here—”

He broke off, still staring at some empty space towards the door, and my heart rose in my chest. I moved forward, ignoring his obvious desire for distance as I tugged at those thick arms, forcing them into position around me again. To my surprise, he didn’t stop me, sighing deeply instead as he looked down at me with a broken expression.