Hero: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (24 page)

BOOK: Hero: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance
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Chapter Two

Seth

 

I grunted hard, feeling the bench solid underneath me and my muscles burning as I forced the bar up, chest twinging as I managed to lock my arms straight and complete the rep. My teeth grit together tightly but I started bringing it down again anyway, ignoring the limits of my body as my blood pounded with the intensity of the workout and drowned the rest of the world out.

My arms started shaking with the tension and my breath exploded out as hands closed around the bar from above, guiding it safely back into the rack. My focus broken, I snapped at the spotter.

“You didn’t need to do that, Mike.”

I sat up with a frustrated growl, leaning one arm on the bench and breathing hard while sweat streamed under the hard glare of my eyes.

“Easy, bro.”

Mike met my irritation with a calm glance that scraped at my loose control but had me looking away - we both knew he was in the right. I’d been driving past failure and it would have been dangerous to continue. The high of pushing myself to my physical limits was still flooding my body - nothing compared to some of the adrenaline I was itching for, but enough to lift me out of my mixed mood.

At least for a bit.

Taking a deep breath, I settled back onto the bench for the next set, prepping my worn muscles and clutching the bar as Mike idly scratched the scar running down his left cheek.

“Seth—”

I ignored the warning note in Mike’s voice, pouring my energy into the pure physical activity and letting the supremacy of my military-fit body fill my awareness. I knew I was pushing it, but I could take a few more…just a few…

“Hey man, aren’t you late? Thought you were on the way to some fancy-ass dinner.”

The words from the entrance of the room had my lips peeling back in a snarl, only driving me harder into the workout as my mood soured further. For a glorious minute, I could ignore the comment and get lost in the pulse beating hard in my ears, before I finally had to acknowledge the edge of my limits.

I sat up with a grunt, wiping myself down with a towel as I flicked a glance to where Dale was leaning against another machine, watching me casually with eyes that never stayed in one place for more than a moment. My breath returning, I forced myself to stop snapping at the guys who knew me better than my own flesh and blood and shrugged off the comment with a grimace.

“Yeah, ‘cos I can hardly wait to see my washed-up mother and whatever asshole she’s shacked up with this time.”

I managed to keep most of the bite out of my tone and Mike slapped my shoulder while I stretched my aching body.

“Can’t choose your family, mate.”

Ain’t that the truth.

I sighed and shook my head, glancing towards the clock.

“Shit.
I really am late.”

I stood and shook my muscles out, reluctantly grabbing up my towel and turning for the showers when Dale cocked his head in my direction.

“Hey, while we’re talking of family - you gonna make the barbecue at Becky’s in a couple of days?”

The question took me by surprise, but the smile that spread across my face was immediate. It had been a while since I’d been back at base and while I couldn’t help my reaction to whatever extravagant dinner was planned for tonight, I’d always had time for Ryan’s wife.

“Barbecue huh? You promise Ryan you’d bring a bunch of gullible bastards again?”

“Ryan? Shit, no. I promised Becky - so you’d better show, or I’ll make sure you’re on the end of
that
ball busting.”

My smile turned into an all-out grin at the memory of how easily that warm, hearty woman had taken command of the SEAL squadron that had landed on her doorstep to ‘help’ with a few odds and ends, the promise of a barbecue dangling a day’s worth of hard work away. Of course, anyone who could survive life with Ryan for so long
would
know how to deal with the rest of us.

“Who’s going?”

Our platoon had only landed a couple of days before and I hadn’t had a chance to catch up, but as far as I knew most of the guys from my first squadron were still deployed.

“Just us this time round, and Ace - saw him last night. Screwed his leg a month ago and been sitting pretty back here waiting on the physio’s word.”

“Bad?”

Dale only grinned at my grimace.

“Nah, just enough to keep him here for a new girl he’s sweet on - lucky bastard to the end. He might be bringing her along, too.”

“Trying to scare her off already, huh? Well, looks like I’ll have to tag along - can’t leave Becky and a nice new girl alone with your ugly mugs.”

I turned toward the door, sending a grin back over my shoulder.

“Be sure to tell Ryan not to worry - we’ll make sure his wife’s fully satisfied while he’s gone.”

I didn’t wait to hear the reply, aware that every moment I lingered was making me later, but I struggled to care too much as Dale’s subtle attempt to shift my mood worked.

Sure, it was a casual invitation he would have given me anyway, but the grizzled veteran saw too much and knew me well enough to pick his moment. Being back in this town always got under my skin, threatening everything I’d become with the insidious reminder of my teenage years - but he’d brought back front-and-center the fact that I had a place now, brothers in arms I would kill or die for without a moment’s hesitation. Life and loyalty, with a code that had finally set me on a path that meant something. I could go and deal with whatever this evening held, and the people I actually wanted to be around would be waiting here when I was done.

The Navy had taken me in, chewed me up and spat me back out - honed the wild edge that had been the bane of everyone I’d grown up with, disciplined it and turned it into a laser-sharp weapon. And even if I couldn’t quite leave my bad boy nature behind, at least they’d given me something worth respecting.

I turned into the showers, stripped and stepped inside for a 30-second blast of hot water before rubbing myself dry and changing into a fresh set of clothes - civilian, this time. Decorum might dictate a little more preparation for a ‘meeting-your-new-step-father’ dinner, but fuck decorum. He might as well get to know who I actually was. Besides, I was late, so first impressions were already shot.

Dropping my workout gear in my dorm and pocketing my phone, keys and wallet was all that I needed before heading out to the old pickup truck and swinging myself up and in. It’s familiar gleam always gave me a sweet satisfaction - the thing had been banged up and barely usable when I’d bought it near-scrap, but putting something back together had been a nice antidote to the unexpected darkness I’d struggled with after my first tour. Turns out there was a difference between growing up sure you were a badass motherfucker and actually living with the knowledge that if it came to it, you could be a relentless killing machine.

I’d seen guys deal with it in different ways - for me, knowing I could fix something up instead of just destroy, that had been enough. And the prize had been an old 2002 model that gave me pride to keep functioning and pretty as a babe.

I started the engine and felt it hum to life underneath me, punching in the post code my mother had sent and hearing the slight roar as I put my foot on the gas. It was hot even with the sun starting to disappear and the open window was a relief to the heat that was still emanating from my workout.

Turning out of the complex and heading onto the wide roads leading into the town, I felt the same flicker of guilt my infrequent visits home always brought. My mother deserved better than these half-hearted efforts to see her and the callous way I talked, but it had been hard to come home a different person and see nothing else had changed since I’d left.

I don’t hate her for that - she can’t help being who she is and I’ve given up wanting and expecting more than she can give. It’s just hard to be around her - that crappy childhood may have made me the guy I am today, but that doesn’t mean I want to be faced with it every time I come back here. Her and her fucked up choices, and the inevitable clashes when I don’t agree with them and can’t keep my mouth shut.

So these visits had become infrequent and perfunctory, even if she didn’t understand why. Still, I couldn’t exactly say no to meeting the man she was going to marry - but when tonight was done, I’d try to eject myself from the situation again. These things never ended well.

As the buildings reared up around me, cutting off the starlight in favor of the glaring street lights that had come on, my mind turned to the other reason that coming home always spawned mixed emotions. I’d lived in this place all my life, on a ghetto the other side of town, but when I came back here the only thing I replayed over and over was a posh hotel room I’d seen the inside of once. A feisty back-and-forth with the only girl who’d been able to match my fire. And gleaming red-gold locks that framed a sweet, heart-shaped face with a passion behind it that had lit my blood and left me longing for the touch and taste of it ever since.

Even after all this time.

Fuck.

I cursed as it hit me yet again; the lingering depths of regret that I’d
sworn
would be gone by the time I got back. Three damn years. Thousands of miles. Hundreds of irresistible, insatiable chicks.

One passionate night.

It should have been enough.

The sinking feeling in my stomach told me it wasn’t. It hadn’t been enough sixteen months ago, when I was last here. It wasn’t now.

The phone cheerily announced I needed to take the next left and broke my train of thought. As if the fake voice had a clue about what I needed.

I stared at the brightly colored map without seeing it, my eyes focusing instead on the number waiting a few taps behind that. It was the one I always came back to when I was in this neck of the woods again. You’d think I would’ve just deleted it by now.

I even did, once. But then I undeleted it just as fast, something inside me panicking that I might have lost it for good. It was a nonsense, because after three years there was no way it would be the same anyway. That didn’t stop whatever perverted part of me that liked the idea that it could be.

I broke out of the city center and the traffic got lighter as I hit a road that looked to take me along the coast. I hadn’t been this way much when I was younger - it was upmarket, up here. If I’d wanted a romp in the sand, I stuck to the other side of the bay where there was a large enough stretch of public beach that you could find a little privacy. This place was dotted with private beaches for rich kids’ parties. Fun to crash occasionally, but too filled with pretentious snobs to stick around long.

I had no idea what my mother was doing up here - as far as I could recall, she’d never had reason to come to this part of town. But my thoughts weren’t really with her and I just shrugged as I enjoyed the taste of salt on the wind. This far up, it wasn’t tinged with sewage at least.

My eyes drifted back to the phone. I wasn’t sure just when over the last three years I’d gone from curious to obsessive. If you asked me on a good day, I’d claim I hadn’t at all - but out here in the dark, with the lonely lights of my childhood on either side of the darkened coastal road, the argument seemed unconvincing.

This is pathetic.

Annoyed at myself, I yanked the car over to the side of the road, snatching the phone from its cradle and navigating the familiar pathway to that number.

B.

I pulled up the menu and let my thumb hover over ‘delete contact’. My stomach had that annoying heavy feeling again.

This is it, chickenshit. You either delete this number or you’re calling it before the night’s out.

It had been three years. If I was lucky, she might have hated me for a time. If not, I would have gone straight to the
forgotten
stage. Regardless, the last thing she’d want would be to hear from me.

And hell - it wasn’t like I had anything to say. I didn’t even like the damn girl!

I hadn’t liked her razor-sharp tongue. Her prissy attitude. Her red-hot passion. Her fuck-me lips. Her sweet curves.

Goddamn it.

I hovered there, one second…two…

And slammed the phone back in the cradle. The hesitation answered my question - I was trained for making fast decisions under pressure, so that indecision was a choice in itself. After I’d sat through the snooze-fest this was sure to be, I was going to finally call the damned number.

I chalked this whole thing up to unfinished business - to the fact that my new code of honor couldn’t stand that I’d broken my word. It had been a stupid, lust-filled promise, but it still reverberated through me.

I might have been an arrogant bastard when I was growing up, but I did what I said I would - even if people may have preferred me not to. And until that one dangerous night, I’d never cared enough about anything to make promises I wouldn’t keep.

I’m never going to let you go…

But I had - and without a word, too. Out of all the shitty things I’ve done in my life, I wouldn’t have thought it ranked that high - but it was the one I remembered.

And tonight, I was going to fix it.

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