Marauder (Gangsters of New York Book 2) by Bella Di Corte

Author:Bella Di Corte [Corte, Bella Di]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bella Di Corte
Published: 2020-08-06T23:00:00+00:00

The room was so dark that my eyes couldn’t penetrate it. I couldn’t make out shapes or even see my hand in front of my face. The temperature in the room was a degree above freezing. One thing I’d learned about Kelly right away: he kept his house cold. When I complained, he said, “The cold helps you breathe and sleep better.” I didn’t see how my teeth chattering all night would help me breathe or sleep better—and my blood ran hot.

Maybe he kept his place so cold because if someone were to murder him in his sleep, he’d keep better.

Looking in his direction, I sighed. At least he’d given me all of the covers. I kicked them off and headed to the bathroom. Cold clung to my skin, but so did sweat. My hair was matted to my head, and Kelly’s shirt stuck to my body.

I turned the faucet water on cool, and after splashing my face, leaned over the sink, letting the water fall back into the drain.

Maybe I was going to be sick.

I felt movement and then caught it. My heart slammed against my chest, even though I didn’t jump. “You’re too fucking silent,” I said, my jaw clenched.

Kelly leaned against the bathroom door, shirtless with only a pair of grey sweatpants on, watching me. His eyes shimmered from the small, soft light that came on at night anytime you walked into the bathroom. “Had something bad to eat, darlin’?”

“You could say that.” I turned off the sink and grabbed a towel to dry my face. After hanging it back up, I went to rush past him, but he caught my arm and I stopped, looking up at him.

“Must’ve been some real bad food. You’re paler than a fucking ghost.”

“It didn’t go to my stomach,” I said. “It went to my head.”

His eyes moved, like he was trying to understand my riddle. “Bad dream.”

The emotions in the pit of my stomach made it to my throat. I wasn’t sure if I could answer. So I nodded.

He used his finger to remove a piece of hair that was stuck to my face and then, taking my hand, led me back to the bedroom. He didn’t stop there, though. He walked through the darkened house, like he could see through it, and then turned the lights on low when we got to the kitchen.

After letting my hand go, he lifted me up by the arms and set me down on the counter. Then he went to the fridge, the light brightening his face and body, and took out a container of soup. He set it down before he went for a pot.

While he stirred the soup, he said, “All of the drink.”

“What?”

“My old man used to say that too much drink summoned the devil. You had too much drink tonight.”

“I’ve had more.” I shrugged, even though his back was to me. “Your house is new to me. It’s always dark and cold, and whenever I’m going through a lot, she comes to me.

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