Veiled Amor by V. Theia

TEN

“You know what they say about making plans…” – Lucia

 

 

Miracles existed because Capone caught some sleep before dawn but found himself wrenched awake after dreaming about green eyes and hungry hands all over him.

With his heart slamming up against his constricted ribcage, Capone groaned as he tried to unfold his pretzel body from the chair.

Groaning again, he was too damn old for sex dreams.

His gaze traveled over to the bed to find it disarrayed and empty.

It was only early, but he wanted a shower, food in his belly, and to call Shark to see if they found anything in the car.

“Lucia? You finished in the bathroom?”

Silence.

It only lasted a second when he heard a scream and then “CAPONE!”

The cramped pain in his legs and fatigue was forgotten as he shot out of the chair, almost wrenching the door off its hinges.

What he saw on the ground floor pushed an inferno of anger through his skin and made him move faster than he’d ever moved before. In only his socked feet, Capone grabbed hold of either side of the metal staircase railing and cleared all but two of them in one gigantic leap. His intent was to get to Lucia at the other end of the motel complex, where a guy was holding her by the wrist and barricading her against the office doorway. There was no recollection of getting there in a few fast seconds, only that he made it.

The guy didn’t notice him.

Nor Lucia, until he pushed the guy into the doorframe, making him stagger and drop the hold he had on her, and her big round eyes came at him like a bullet of relief. He held onto that look even when he stared down the motherfucker.

“Do you know this guy, Lucia?” He grated, never taking his eyes from the struggling man as Capone pinned him against the doorframe.

“N-no.” she stammered but gained a stronger tone when she moved behind him. “I came to get towels, and he grabbed me and said I have to go home to…”

Yeah, not happening. Capone growled.

“And did you want him to touch you?”

“No.”

“You hear that, pendejo? She doesn’t know you and doesn’t want you to touch her, yet you put your hands on her, didn’t you?” Capone pushed his clawed fingers into the guy’s chest. There was no pretending he had a handle on his anger. It fueled through him like a raging chemical spill.

“I was only—” Whatever explanation the thug had ready, Capone slapped it out of him, a hand pressed hard over his mouth. That was when he turned his gaze on Lucia and found her watching him. Not with fear. Relief and gratitude were shining in her eyes.

There had been no one to fight her corner and stand in the way of her father.

He was no fucking knight, but he’d put himself in that position now and would see it to the end. Knowing she understood him and hoped the guy didn’t, he switched to Spanish and told her. “Run back to the room, nena, pack your stuff, get ready to leave, okay?”

She nodded but asked in English, her eyes on the guy. “What about…?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

It might be the way her father had conditioned her to always obey that she didn’t question Capone further. He didn’t like it, but there was a time and a place for that, and he was glad she turned around and rushed back to their room.

Leaving him alone with a stranger he wanted to kill.

The moment Capone removed his hand, he got in the guy’s face who tried to look around him at a retreating Lucia. “No, you look at me, fucker, you never look at her again. Now talk.”

“Man, this is a job. I gotta take her back to Miami. I wasn’t gonna hurt her.”

“Aside from the fact she doesn’t know you, and you put yourself in her space, yeah, she thought you weren’t gonna hurt her, hijo de puta. Who do you work for?”

Capone knew the answer.

“He wants his kid back.”

Fury hurt Capone’s jaw as he ground down on his teeth. “Does she look like a kid to you? Does she look like she can’t make her own fucking decisions? Were you gonna dump her in your trunk? Maybe have a little fun with her first, huh?”

The guy must be new to Nicholas’ organization and still had a conscience because he flushed red. “No. Just a job, man, you gotta understand.”

No, he didn’t. Capone put space between them before he wrenched open the leather jacket. “Hey, what the fuck?”

“Not nice, is it, fucker? Someone putting their hands on you when you don’t want it. Now make this shit easy for yourself and hand over your wallet, car keys, and phone.”

His eyes widened. “You’re fucking robbing me?”

Nicholas was despicable enough to have a guy snatch Lucia off the street to terrify her. Far as Capone was concerned, this thug was an extension of the man he hated, led around by the leash to do his bidding. He could slice the guy from neck to dick in seconds and not think twice about it, but her safety came first.

“I won’t ask again.”

Whatever the guy heard in Capone’s tone made him choose wisely when he sighed and fished in his pocket, all but throwing the items at him. “You carrying a piece?”

Narrowed eyes, the guy slid a 9mm from the back of his jeans and slapped it into his hands. Capone slid it into the back of his waistband, pulling his shirt over it.

“Either I take her home, or he’ll only send someone else.”

Capone glared at him, wordlessly.

“If you know the boss, then you know I gotta take her back, man. There’s no other choice. I gotta keep dogging her steps until she’s home.”

Violence was once second nature to Capone. His father joked he came out of the womb holding out his little fists and wearing a scowl. He’d spilled blood, maimed and broken bones, usually for a good cause, sometimes in defense. Looking for fights when his anger was out of control. He’d calmed down in the last couple of years, but it didn’t stop the skill coming back to him as he flipped the guy face-first to the wall, and took his wrist in a deathlike grip.

Bending it until the guy was groaning in pain.

“You don’t have to do anything, man. Just let me get the girl, and nothing will happen to you.”

Nothing was going to happen to him or Lucia. Unbidden, his thoughts took the train to the end of the line by vowing he’d do anything he could to protect her.

He didn’t have death in mind, though it would have been easy. He was this side of mad to do it. Instead, he used his skills and considerable weight difference by putting pressure on the guy’s wrist. Capone wasn’t Hawk or Lawless. He couldn’t say he derived pleasure from inflicting pain; it had its uses, a means to an end, but he was smiling when the guy screamed as the bones snapped.

Once he’d broken his wrist, he stepped back and watched how the other man cradled his arm, looking like he was about to puke.

“Bet it hurts, sí? I fell off a roof when I was eight years old and broke my arm, hurt like a bitch. I cried for hours until my papá told me to suck it up.” When Capone ignored the pussy-like groans of pain, he cut his gaze behind him and up to the motel room to find Lucia in the doorway, a bag at her feet. Good girl. He didn’t smile, but their gazes held for a second before he turned back. “Take the lesson,” he warned. “Don’t follow her. Far as you know, you didn’t even find her.”

“He won’t give up…”

“It’s a broken wrist this time. I see your face around her again; even casually in a bar, it’ll be a very different story.” He made to leave, but added. “There’s a hospital about five miles south.” That should keep the guy busy. He watched while he took off in a staggered sprint, cradling his arm like it was a newborn baby.

Stepping into the motel office, the guy behind the desk had wide eyes and a twitchy disposition, having seen the whole thing going down.

“Listen, we want no trouble.” He started, nervous as a mouse.

“You witness a woman being manhandled, and you stay in here like a weasel cunt?”

“Was none of my business.” The man blustered.

He was another one Capone wanted to bloody. Instead, he pulled open the stolen wallet, found it had enough bills. “Room 12 checking out, what do we owe?”

He slapped the money down and strode out, dumping the stuff in a trash can.

An anxious woman was at the top of the steps, waiting for him.

There was no thought process to what he did next.

Had Capone taken a moment to think, then he would have done things differently. But the instant he was at the top of the landing, she sprinted out of the doorway, nearly tripping over her suitcase, and launched herself into his arms. He caught her automatically, his hands going beneath her ass as he boosted her up against his chest.

And then he crushed her mouth.

He crushed her fucking mouth like he’d been kissing her for years.

Like he had a right to her taste and the feel of her gasp as she opened for him and invited his tongue inside to taste her deeper.

It was a knee-jerk reaction, one he couldn’t apologize for while she sucked around his tongue, giving off moaning mewls of enjoyment. If he’d ever thought seeing her moving through a room impacted the atmosphere, it was nothing to how one of her kisses affected him. It was a straight punch of awareness and lust in his solar plexus. And the longer he ravaged her mouth, forcing it wider to tangle around her tongue, the rougher he became.

He was too rough about the way he gripped her backside and pushed her up against the open doorway, but it felt a herculean task to do anything differently. There was nothing passive about Lucia. It surprised him and turned him on. The way she locked their mouths had air seeping out of his lungs. Only as they parted, she caught at his lower lip long enough to pull in needed oxygen before melding together again.

She was delicious.

So fucking sweet, making him hungry for something he’d locked away. Now it was climbing into his mouth, vining her legs around him and forcing him to ravage the kiss out of her. Meshing hotly, they moved in a slow, sexual rhythm which sprang to life unbidden through sheer relief. As soon as the notion rocked through him, Capone took hold of the back of Lucia’s neck, her lips moving on his. It was a toss-up where she started, and he ended. Delivering the kiss of his lifetime, that much was clear. Their tongues glided in a sensual dance neither of them had forgotten. He shoved her higher against the door and swallowed her moan before driving one hard thrust between her soft thighs. It was only the sound of a car horn coming from across the street that made Capone wrench out of his fantasy, of gripping her sinful ass until she ground her body on his. Gentling his lips until they parted naturally. Reluctantly.

Breathing heavily, he set her on her feet, ushering her inside the room.

Jesus, this girl could make him forget everything. Capone had all but abused her mouth because he’d been out of his mind, worried someone could have easily snatched her.

Yeah, keep lying, ese.

He’d kissed her because he couldn’t help himself. All night he’d thought about prowling over to the bed, and waking her with his tongue, sucking on her top lip.

It didn’t mean he was right to kiss her.

Out of worry, he’d lost control. So when he spoke, his tone held a bite. “Why were you outside?”

“I wanted to get you some fresh towels. I didn’t think you’d want to use my used ones.”

A lot she knew. Capone would use her panties to dry off with and fucking love it. But that was the deviant in him talking. He tightened his jaw until his bones ached, ignoring the fact he’d been harder in the last 24 hours than he’d been in months. Even now, his cock ached. She wouldn’t be able to not see his bulge when he turned around. The dick pain was the furthest thing from his mind, even as he watched her eyes roving over him.

“He won’t be the last one who tries to grab you when you’re not looking, Lucia. Don’t do that again.” He might not be so lucky to stop it next time.

Anger kept him steady, and he needed that. Needed it more than ever to keep his head on right and not fall off the fucking wagon like he had. So he dragged all the emotion to the forefront like soldiers on guard.

“Are we going to talk about that?”

Cutting a glance over his shoulder as he closed the door, he barely contained his cock from exploding, and she wanted to talk and do it by looking at him so fucking sweetly?

Swallowing, he arched a brow, and she grinned wider.

“Guess not. We’ll shelve it, hm?”

“One problem at a time, nena. I need to grab a shower. I’ll order a car, be ready to go in ten minutes.” He wasn’t even through the bathroom door when she called his name.

“Capone?”

“Sí?”

“You’re still a good kisser. I thought you should know, in case you need a confidence boost.”

Sassy little thing. He was smirking to himself as he listened to her laughter on the other side of the door. If his confidence boosted any more, he could fly them to the MC compound on hot air and lust alone.

Capone’s body relaxed in degrees only because he pulled off his clothes and stepped under the pitiful spray of lukewarm water. Grabbing the first bottle he saw, it was her body wash. Great, he was about to smell like the very thing driving him mad. It didn’t stop Capone from sudding his body. With a towel slung around his hips… Lucia’s towel… he opened the door and stepped into the room. Her eyes went larger as she gasped.

“I didn’t take clothes in with me.” He explained as he started digging in his bag for clean jeans, boxer briefs, and a t-shirt.

Capone didn’t have body hang-ups and didn’t think about it when he pulled off the towel to step into the underwear.

Until Lucia, like a 17th century maiden, gasped and spun around. “Oh, my god, Capone.”

Her reaction made him grin.

He didn’t stop pulling on his clothes, but her back meant he could look his fill at her tight little ass and short legs. She was so fucking petite. His memory sometimes forgot how neatly she’d tucked herself into his body.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, nena.” He stated roughly. His cock gave a token jerk, as if remembering.

“A million years ago. Who drops a towel like that? You’re an exhibitionist, Capone.” She excused, breathily. He could palm the back of her neck and show her how much. Her taste was still in his mouth, despite the toothpaste, and he wanted another kiss.

Only keeping her safe was how it focused Capone when he sat on the edge of the bed to push on his boots. She turned then, nibbling on her lip. “That was one of dad’s men. He’s newish, but I recognized him. I wonder how long he’s known where I am?”

“Let’s not stop to ask, sí?”

“I’ll run down to the office to pay and check out.”

“It’s already done. Grab your coat, nena.” Capone slid his phone into his pocket after sending a text to the club, asking Shark for a pick-up.

“You paid for me? You can’t do that. I’ll pay you back.” He stopped her by touching her arm. Nothing was missed about the shot of electricity through them both. “It’s done, Lucia, let’s go. Someone is coming from the MC for us, they’ll let us stay there.”

Zipping her coat, she paused. “Staying at a motorcycle place? You and me?”

“Yeah, it’s protected. No one can get in to drag you off again.”

“Oh.”

“Problem? Talk to me. I can’t help if you don’t share what’s on your mind, Lucia.”

“No, there’s no problem. I just thought.” Another lip bite. “I thought you’d maybe advise me where to disappear to, and then you’d go home.”

Capone hadn’t sat his ass in a middle aisle seat between a talkative woman and a tween boy just to dump her somewhere and then leave her to it. This shit with her father was serious, more so now she’d pissed him off. Cole wouldn’t like that. He was likely to throw everything at the problem until it was sorted. And Cole saw her as a problem to be managed.

Gentling his voice, because she didn’t need his foul mood growling in her face, he walked over and cupped her cheek. “Not gonna abandon you, Lucia. You’re my sister-in-law, sí? Family help.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Color bled out of her face, and she pulled back, turned around, and grabbed her case on wheels. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” She said blandly.

Fuck him.

Being inexplicably attracted to a woman, he felt as though it shouldn’t make things so much harder for Capone. If he could strip that part of him away, he would.

They had a history.

Murky, fucking delicious history.

In a lot of ways, he was as bad as her father because he wanted to take her over too.

He wanted to own the woman who strangled his heart, who tormented his dreams and thoughts, even today. Worse today.

He wanted to know where she was at all times, probably be at her side like a panting dog. Capone would be happier if he were the one to do things for her, protect her, provide for her.

Putting her in the box marked family meant he had a chance of resisting what he shouldn’t have.

In his brother’s memory.

As much as the brothers hadn’t seen eye-to-eye, Santiago deserved better than to know Capone was hungering for his wife.

It made him as despicable as the father trying to re-cage his daughter.

They left the motel room without a word.

Lucia climbed into the waiting truck when he opened the door for her. She slid into the middle as far away from him as she could get and stayed that way.

However long it took to get her safe, it was going to be too fucking long on his control and patience. He had an idea how to do that.

But it was out of the question.

Too fucking absurd, and went against his moral code. As loose as that was.

He couldn’t do it.

Wouldn’t.

But it stayed on the bench as a back-up plan.

Another lie he made himself swallow.

He’d do whatever that was needed for her safety, that much he knew.

And because Capone couldn’t help himself, he reached over and grabbed one of her clasped hands, enfolding it in his.

She didn’t pull away, didn’t even turn to look at him, but it made everything right again.