Veiled Amor by V. Theia

ELEVEN

“An unexpected declaration…” - Capone

 

 

Whatever she expected from the large square complex, Lucia was still taken aback when the purring truck came to a halt in front of a four-story-high warehouse-style building. Dark bricks and windows made it look like a student accommodation with double doors and a keypad entryway.

Without thinking, she shyly squeezed Capone’s hand, and he squeezed back, reassuring her.

“I’ll let the Prez know you guys are here.” The younger boy announced, jumping out.

“Gracias, prospect.”

A category five hundred hurricane tore through her with nerves.

She wasn’t a naturally nervous person. Learning to handle the knocks over the years. And these last three weeks had been a blast. She’d never realized how badly she’d craved to be on her own, doing what she wanted to do.

Having her father’s guy turn up like that this morning put her situation into perspective.

Ugh. If only he was doing it out of love. Out of a sense of fatherly care.

It couldn’t be further from the truth.

Being a commodity her whole life had meant Lucia built up her own confidence and self-worth. Emotion gathered in her throat, and she fought to push it down. So happy to be around him again, even if it made her a masochist. Their kiss was… out of this world.

But then, she felt pathetic for not being able to stand up to her father, and to be so damn happy lapping up these fleeting moments with Giancarlo.

How was it she couldn’t move past him?

Ah well, that was a question for a bottle of wine to answer.

“Don’t be nervous,” she heard. It was then she realized she was still clutching Capone’s hand. It was difficult letting him go, but she tucked her hand in her lap again.

“What’s going to happen now?”

“First thing is to get you some breakfast.”

Her belly grumbled like a lion at the mention of food, and she chuckled. “That would be good.”

“Come on, let’s get inside.”

On instinct, she stuck close to Capone. Her assumption had been the place would smell like men. Body odor, cigarette smoke, and beers. But it was pretty clean smelling.

“I don’t know what you’ll see in here,” Capone said, “every MC is different, so try not to be shocked if you see someone fucking.”

She nearly gave herself whiplash. “Sex? In front of everyone? At this time of day?”

Capone chuckled deep enough the sound slid over her skin like two rough hands.

“MC’s are a different world, nena. We make our own rules. But Shark, the prez who runs the place, is a good guy, nothing bad goes on here, it’s always consented.”

“Well, consider me warned.” She half-laughed, trying to appear braver than she felt. She was with Giancarlo, whatever his feelings for her, and they appeared to be as confused as a teen on prom night, he would never allow something bad to happen to her.

They didn’t see sex, or anything close to it, thank goodness. But there were many people around, and every set of eyes came their way. A few men grinned, coming over to slap his hand. “Good to see you, man. Thinking of putting in your papers to the better chapter?”

The man at her side smirked and said something in return, but she was so dazzled by the change in his demeanor she didn’t hear a word.

“And who is this?” The fair-haired, clean shaven man with a million tattoos across the top half of his body asked.

“Lucia, this is Vampire.”

Her lips twitched as the man grasped her hand to shake. “Your name is Vampire?”

He grinned toothily, tonguing his sharp incisor. “It’s a long story. Stick around, and I’ll tell ya it.”

Capone’s grin turns sharp. “Simmer down, Casanova. I gotta talk to Shark, and Lucia needs breakfast.” It was subtle and hardly noticeable if Lucia hadn’t already been pressed up against Capone’s side, but she felt him tense. It was probably nothing, certainly not territorial.

“You can’t have all the pretty ones,” Vampire stated, grinning at her. “Catch you later, pretty Lucia,” he winked and strolled off.

“He was friendly.”

Capone grunted and steered her down a corridor, a hand on her lower back.

It was a tall man who stepped out of an office, his arm around a pretty young woman, and he sent Capone a smile. She watched the pair slap hands, and then he introduced her. Shark introduced his woman to them both.

“Thanks for doing this,” Capone said. “We’ll only need a couple of days at most.”

“It’s no bother, brother. It’s what we do. Have you guys eaten? Spencer will help fix you something, won’t you, baby?”

“Of course,” she smiled at Lucia before kissing her man’s lips. “Let’s you and me grab a coffee in the kitchen and let the boys catch up. Do you like espresso mocaccino? I just bought this fancy machine. It’s so good.”

Even when Spencer hooked her arm through hers, Lucia’s eyes searched out Capone’s.

“You good with that, nena?”

Confident that she wasn’t being thrown to the lions in a place she didn’t know, she smiled, nodding. “Sure, I’m starving.”

“Then let’s find food.” The blonde woman led her toward the pleasant smells, making Lucia’s belly grumble with need. As she turned the corner she looked back to see Capone watching her with a look on his face she couldn’t decipher, other than how it made her stomach jump. She smiled, giving him a little wave.

He disappeared out of sight, she already missed him. How crazy was that?

If she weren’t careful, she’d allow this obsession with Giancarlo to spiral out of control again. It had been leashed because he kept them tightly locked in a box. Now he was in front of her—even kissing the hell out of her. What was she to make of that?

“What do you like to eat?” Spencer asked, showing Lucia to a wide table of men. “Stop your gawking. You’ve seen a woman before, and watch your table manners too.” She chastised. A woman no bigger than her was bossing big-ass grown men, and they listened.

“I eat anything. This is kind of you and your husband, thank you.”

“Old man.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s my old man. I’m his old lady. It’s what we call ourselves around here.”

“Have you been married… I mean old people together for long?” She asked, and the bikers started cackling.

“We got married last summer. You stick around long enough I’ll tell you the story of how I got an impossible, sworn bachelor to fall for me.”

“She hogtied him.” One called out.

“I still say she brainwashed the Prez.”

“She nagged him until he gave in.”

“Hush your damn mouths,” a grinning Spencer said as she poured two big mugs of coffee. “You know nothing about it.”

“Missy, we watched it happening. Prez didn’t stand a chance against you.”

At that, a bearded man as tall as a grizzly bear came lumbering through the door wearing a gray beanie hat, sweeping the air out of Lucia’s lungs. He looked like he was about to either eat the fridge or throw it across the room. He stood at least six feet eight.

No one appeared bothered by his presence as he walked around the room, grabbing a bottle of water and a container of food from the fridge. As quick as the mountain had appeared, he left, taking his wide shoulders with him.

“Don’t mind Tiger, he’s not housebroken.”

The yummy food settled Lucia’s stomach, but her greedy heart pined as she looked at the doorway for the tenth time, wondering where Capone was.

 

 

* * *

 

“Not having enough fun with the Russians, you gotta tag a Kingpin, brother?” Joked Shark. “She must be special if you’re willing to go up against Nicholas Cole.”

Not giving anything away that he didn’t want known, Capone grunted, arms on his thighs as he sat forward in the hardback chair. “He and I have history.”

Shark whistled. “He doesn’t know you’re here?”

“Not right now, but it won’t take him long to know I’ve brought her here. I disarmed his man for now, and I have a plan for what to do. I wanna take her back to Colorado.”

“As you suspected, her car was bugged. She’s taken Cole along with her the entire time. Fortunately, that car is now in pieces and shipped out.” Shark reached into his desk drawer and tossed over a brick of cash. It had to be thousands. “That’s what we got for it.”

“You didn’t take a cut?”

“Nah, all yours.”

“I’ll make sure Lucia gets it, thanks, hermano.”

They talked about the plan Capone wanted to put in place. Shark was on board.

It was moments later, when Capone headed for the door, that Shark’s voice stopped him. “You and the girl, is it serious?”

Though a snap sent a whoosh of air through his chest, Capone’s features didn’t alter. “She’s a family friend. We’re not together.”

“Okay. Just so the boys know.”

He narrowed his eyes at Shark’s smirk. “They’ll keep away from her, or I’ll make them.”

The Prez laughed. “You know better than that, Capone, women who aren’t claimed are fair game for the boys to talk to.”

He knew this, even so, he ground his teeth until he thought he might have made dust of them.

“Don’t be worrying like a papa bear. She’s safe here. They ain’t gonna put the moves on an unwilling woman. But if she wants some male company to take her mind from her daddy issues… she’s fucking pretty, Capone, they’re gonna like what they see.”

Over his dead body.

He might not think he was good enough for her. But this sorry lot wasn’t good enough for her, either.

As good-natured as an angry man could muster, he turned to meet amused eyes looking on. “I hope your prospects are good at sweeping up body parts.”

Shark barked a laugh. “That’s the threat of a man who’s claimed a woman.”

“We’re not together.”

The hot as fuck kiss didn’t mean a thing, other than he was hornier than a rabbit in mating season and itching to get back to Lucia’s side before one of his brothers from another mother tried to make a move on her. He was only half-joking about breaking their bones. But he didn’t want to put it to the test how fast he’d do it.

“Hey, Capone, sleeping arrangements, seeing as you’re not together, you want one room or two?”

“One,” he growled without hesitation, walking into Shark’s trap like he was a newborn pup.

He left with the sound of laughter behind him.

In the kitchen doorway, he watched her for a few seconds, laughing at something Shark’s old lady was saying. He’d watched her too often in secret to be called a decent man. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to see her father hadn’t worn her down.

The guilt for leaving her almost choked him, so he stepped into the room. Her smile dropped a little, and he felt that too. Deserved, he hadn’t been sunshine and welcome mats since meeting her again, had he?

He could change that. Smiling, he swung his leg over the bench, touching the top of her arm. “Did you get your fill?”

“Yep. I saved you an egg and sausage breakfast roll.”

“Only one?”

Spencer chuckled and rose to her feet. “I’ll leave this hungry biker to you, Lucia. Your room is up the stairs, the last door on the left. I got it ready this morning. It has towels and stuff.”

“Gracias.”

“Thanks for everything, Spencer.”

“No problem, chick.”

It was then Lucia brought a plate from the microwave and put it in front of him. Three overloaded cheese biscuits with eggs falling out the sides. His stomach growled.

“It’s good. Nothing like your tortilla de Patatas, though.”

His eyes shot up. Met hers. Saw so much in the depths, enough to want to bring her into his lap.

“You remember that?”

“How you’d make Sunday breakfast for your family? Yeah. It was the favorite part of my week.” She blushed and broke eye contact, “I mean, it was great food, Capone.”

He liked those Sundays. Not for family or food. And all to do with being around a forbidden woman he craved.

The biscuits were good, but like sawdust after that revelation, he gulped all three and then rose to his feet. Lucia was shocked about the car and money, but accepted both.

“How about we dump our stuff upstairs and take a walk around the compound? I need to stretch my legs.”

“Sounds good.” She agreed.

When they were on the next level of the clubhouse, she paused in the bedroom doorway, looking at the double bed. The only bed. It was clean, with a chest of drawers, a bathroom, and a few other room amenities, much like the flop rooms from back home.

“Is this… are we both in here?”

“Sí.” He gruffed, ushering her in. He dropped their bags on the floor. It wasn’t hard to see the color highlighting her cheeks when he turned around. The sick bastard that he was loved seeing it.

There was a comeback brewing in her eyes. He should let her insist they have separate rooms. Instead, he spoke before she could. “It’s safer this way.”

“It’s safer? Capone, you won’t talk about the kiss, but you want to share my bed because it’s safer?” The way she cocked her chin back to stare at him made Capone want to kiss her again. Goddamn him, he liked her confronting him head-on.

She was still his sister-in-law and very untouchable.

Or was he going to desecrate his brother’s memory into the ground some more?

“Yes, it’s safer.” He grunted, grabbing her jacket, he held it out to her. She huffed turning her to slide her arms into the sleeves. She was too busy staring at him when she spun around to notice he zipped her up to the chin.

“So that’s it? We don’t talk about it. And we don’t talk about what happened years ago.”

“It was a kiss, Lucia, no big deal, sí?”

Fucking liar.

She knew it too when her eyes flared.

“You Mercado men with your no big deal! I’m sick of it, and I don’t know why you’re even here, why you brought me here if we can’t talk about anything.” She came forward and air stalled in Capone’s chest. For the last two days, being in that cramped motel room with her, he was running on Lucia overload. His goddamn body didn’t know how to react other than to maul her like a fucking beast.

There was no getting her out of his system, she was his fucking system. Every nerve ending and molecule. And this close, he was about to be a fucking monster if she didn’t back up. He let his head drop as she lifted her stubborn pixie chin, eyes blazing as he’d ever seen them. She even poked his chest, and a twitch tickled the corner of his mouth. Damn, she might try to kick his ass.

“You needed help. That’s why we’re here, Lucia. Or you forgot that little detail? Some cabrón grabbed you to take you back to your father, who would sell you in a fucking ring to the highest bidder if it suited his business endeavors.”

“I’ve lived it, Capone. Every fucking day of my life, I know what my father is capable of. I couldn’t forget if I tried. But you? You forgot so easily. You were the one who ran away first.”

Suddenly, they weren’t talking about her predicament, and his chest filled with bricks. Capone had never been the type to back away from anything. For years he’d hated himself for what he’d done, for his weakness at the worst possible time. He’d felt like he’d pissed all over his brother’s grave by taking something that didn’t belong to him. The only way he could keep her, making sure she was fine, was to compartmentalize his feelings.

Or so Gia told him.

Being a therapist, Gia gave unbiased advice, but it wasn’t anything he could listen to because she’d told him more than once he had to forgive himself. He remembered Gia telling him, “Don’t waste an opportunity when it’s glaring you in the face, Capone, if you can be happy, then take it.”

Capone had always been about family, but he saw what his silence had done to Lucia, and he didn’t blame her for being angry with him.

“Lucia…”

“Lucia, nothing. Things never change, do they? I think I’d like to take that walk on my own if you don’t mind. And then I need to leave and take care of myself.”

“The hell you say?” He all but growled. “No, you’re not.”

At the door, she turned to look at him. Could she see he was coming out of his skin? If she took off again on her own, it would be a matter of hours before Nicholas scooped her up. And he couldn’t think about what would happen to her after that.

With a step forward, she kept him at bay simply by holding out a hand. “If there was a reason why you won’t talk to me, maybe I could understand. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m such a burden to you.”

The fuck? That’s what she thought?

Where the fuck would he start?

“Santiago is gone.” She stated quietly. He didn’t want her upset, not because of him or his brother. But he realized his actions all this time had contributed to her sadness. It wasn’t all Nicholas’ doing. He was just as culpable.

“Lucia—”

“I’m not wearing his ring,” she interrupted, showing him her empty hand. Unconsciously, it was one of the first things he’d noticed. “I haven’t almost from the start.”

Frowning, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Why haven’t you?”

“You never asked.”

He hadn’t asked a lot of things because he couldn’t fucking take the answers.

“I’m going for a walk, I’ll stay within the boundaries. But I mean what I say, Capone. I’m grateful for seeing you again because I think it’s shown us both we’re ready to move on from what we’ve never been able to confront.”

And then he let her walk out because all he had in him were words begging her to stay.

After she’d gone, he paced around like a caged animal. Every instinct in him was to go after her, tell her everything he was thinking.

Helping had turned out to be harder than he thought. He didn’t hesitate when she’d asked him, using the excuse to be around her again. A Louisiana prospect could have collected her easily. Capone wanted to be near her. But it was no good for her, was it? Now it sounded like she wanted… needed a clean break from him if he couldn’t at least talk about things.

Once he calmed down, he headed out into the main area to find booze.

After a shot of El Rayo Plata tequila, he looked to the door again, hoping to see her walking through it.

He wanted to make up.

Only, in his way, it involved a bedroom, messy sheets, and wet screams.

Though he wasn’t a fancy fucker, he could make it up to her without a bed or sheets. The floor and his imagination would do fine.

He waited.

And waited.

Stalking the doorway, resisting the urge to find her.

This chapter had more hangarounds than Colorado. Women approached, but his only interest was for the woman coming through the doorway, blowing in her cupped hands. He was up from the stool, ignoring the conversation going on around him. Her gaze came over as if she’d been searching for him. She didn’t look happy to see him. Capone grinned. He liked her fiery. But he didn’t have the right to drown her in his feelings just because he couldn’t keep it reeled in.

She didn’t belong to him.

And that was a hard fucking taco to swallow.

The bravado was on her face when she didn’t hesitate walking up to him.

“It’s freaking cold,” she puffed, still breathing into her hands. Without thinking, he took them into his to rub them. “What you said earlier. That isn’t happening, Lucia. I’m here now, you may not want me to be, but I am, sí? You can kick my ass to the curb once I know you’re not gonna be sold into fucking slavery.”

Lucia’s expression made him want to laugh. There was a loosening in his chest when he got close enough to smell her. Fucking animal that he was, felt at ease by her fragrance.

How hadn’t he realized she had a panther in her petite body? She looked like she wanted to claw him up, and the dirty part of him would welcome it.

He recalled a time when he walked away from her bed full of scratch marks. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror for days until they healed because the welts made him harder than stone.

Shaking from the memory before he did something stupid by asking her to climb him and rub her pussy on his stomach, he continued warming her hands.

“It wasn’t slavery,” she informed, “the Texan wanted a docile wife.”

“Docile? You? Does your father even know you?”

“Obviously not.” She smiled and pulled her hands free of his. “Besides, the Texas dry heat would be hell on my hair, and I’d hate living on a farm.”

“You’re not being sold to live on a Texas farm with an old cunt.”

“I think he’s in his forties.”

He turned a stare to see her smiling. Teasing him.

Holy Mother Magdalene, save him from this woman. Muttering in Spanish, he hustled her over to the bar where a prospect brought a coffee pot, pouring for them both.

“You won’t do anything you don’t wanna do. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Is that so?” Her voice was softer.

Now she was calm, and he was the one about to fly off the handle by imagining her forced into something she didn’t want to do, all because Nicholas was an unfeeling control freak. He hated it more because he’d lose her. Again.

The next words growled out of his mouth, came from a place deep inside.

And he meant them.

God help him. He meant every fucking word.

“Sí, it’s so. Even if it means I have to marry you first.”