Marked: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mafia Born Book 2) by Mallory Hart

Author:Mallory Hart [Hart, Mallory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-28T06:00:00+00:00

19

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PINA

Lucien stood before me, rough cheek shorn and white teeth gleaming in the sun. The air in the parking garage froze to my skin. A red Chevy blinked its lights, horn blaring like a dying animal. I reached for my gun, but it was gone. Lucien grabbed my arms, laughing, screaming, spraying blood onto my face. I lifted my hands, but they were covered in red, identical bullet wounds leaving a hole in each palm. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice scratched with misuse. A dead man lay at my feet, unblinking blue eyes staring into mine. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. Lucien was—

Waking in a pool of sweat, my body launched to sitting against my will. I pulled in a breath to calm my heart. It pounded harder.

I looked around the room, finding relief in the hideous green walls. Not a cage. I could come and go whenever I wanted. The only other person here was Darragh. I was safe.

At least, as safe as I could be.

I needed water.

I didn’t drink it, just splashed it on my face from the kitchen sink. The cut on my forehead was supposed to remain dry, but that was the last thing on my mind right now. Once I got the shaking back to a minimum, I staggered back to bed.

Darragh was awake.

Darkness hid his face, but I knew his eyes followed me as I settled back under the sheets. His blood must have run hotter, because the AC had the room freezing. I pulled the blanket tight around me, trying not to flinch when Darragh’s hand brushed my hair.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. He was built differently. I had no doubt he could see it in the dark.

“Talk to me, love.”

I shook my head. You couldn’t offer me anything to do that. I could speak about it, just not to him. He had enough of my vulnerabilities in his hands—I wasn’t about to give him another.

I was just being used. I could almost lie to myself and say he wanted to keep me around, but he had a legitimate excuse, and besides, this deal still had a definitive deadline. He wanted me until he didn’t need me. I wouldn’t fool myself into trusting him again.

“Pi—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Surprisingly, that settled it. He fell back to the bed, and silence fell once more. Tears threatened the backs of my eyes . . . but they all dried up when he shifted to wrap his arm around me.

Despite my reservations, I fell into the familiar shape of him. My back sunk into his chest, my arm folded over his with my fingers laced through his hand. His free arm came around, and he stroked my hair, kissed the back of my head, whispered a quiet and warm “Good night.”

He was a murderer, a liar, and he shattered my heart.

But I didn’t wake up again until morning.

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