The Mobster’s Masseuse Read online

  The odds are against me. I left my cell phone behind, so I can’t call anyone, but I’m determined and my backbone has brought me a long way in life. I dress with shaking hands and I’ve just finished when there’s a knock at the door. Helen. Will she help me? I’m not sure I have another option.

  “Come in,” I call.

  She walks in with a smile, but it flattens when she sees my face.

  “Oh dear,” she mutters, setting down my tray on an ottoman by the fire. “He’s made a mess of it so soon, has he?”

  “Helen.” I take her hand. “Please. You have to help me. He’s keeping me here. I want to leave and he won’t let me.”

  “Please, dear. He’s my employer. I’ve been working for his family since he was a boy.” Her smile is hopeful. “Perhaps he has good reason?”

  I swallow my hysteria and try to speak calmly. “There’s never a good reason to hold a person captive. You have to help me.”

  She chews her lip. “You feel nothing for Walker at all?”

  “I do,” I whisper shakily. “I love him. That’s why I have to go now, before I fall deeper and deeper and stop caring how wrong this is. Please.”

  Helen is clearly torn. “He’s a good man, Meadow. He was just raised to be ruthless. It’s a wonder everything good inside of him wasn’t washed away by his father. He turned even more terrible after Walker’s mother got sick and died.” She appeals to me with a hand on my arm. “In time, I’m sure he would see reason.”

  “I don’t. Every minute that passes seems to make him more determined to never let me leave this house.” I squeeze her hand. “I can’t live like that. Help me.”

  Cogs turn behind her eyes and while she’s conflicted, she relents, reaching into her pocket to extricate a small billfold of cash, handing it to me. “Take this.”

  I hug her hard. “Thank you, Helen.”

  “Lord, if he finds out I helped you…”

  “He won’t. I have a plan.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Walker

  I feel sick.

  Sick and hollow and…confused.

  I did what I had to do, didn’t I? Decided what was best for my peace of mind, what was best for Meadow’s safety, and I implemented the rules.

  It’s what I do. What I’ve always done.

  No one is supposed to question me.

  She wasn’t supposed to cry. Or look so broken.

  Christ, I fucked her so hard. In the middle of a fight. Both of us might have enjoyed the hell out of it, but afterward, she didn’t turn to me. Didn’t seek comfort. She’d turned away and I can’t blame her. I acted like a goddamn animal, bringing her to the height of pleasure, then trying to exact promises. Asshole.

  I make a gruff sound and press my forehead to the glass of living room window. There is a hole in my stomach the approximate size of a cannon ball and with every fiber of my being, I want to be holding Meadow. Apologizing. Begging her to stop responding to me with such betrayal and sadness in her voice.

  That’s not her.

  She’s a fiery, take-no-bullshit girl.

  What have I done to her in the space of one fucking day?

  Stooping forward in deference to the agony in my belly, I glance toward the stairs that lead to our bedroom. Helen just carried up a tray of dinner for Meadow. She should be downstairs eating with me. Sitting beside me and laughing, answering the four thousand questions I have about her life before today, about her likes and dislikes. We should be making love in front of the fireplace and making plans for the future. Instead…I think I’ve ruined any chance at happiness.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ve gotten exactly what I want.

  She’s safe.

  She’s mine.

  I’ve arranged Meadow in such a way that she can’t be used against me or distract me into making mistakes.

  I’ve eliminated any chance of being vulnerable.

  Why do I feel like my heart has been ripped out?

  “Hey boss!”

  I turn slightly to find Richie has been let into the house by one of the guards stationed at the door. Since bringing Meadow home, the number of men stationed outside has been tripled and I’m thinking of adding more.

  To keep my enemy out?

  Or to keep her inside?

  Jesus, I’ve turned into a jailer.

  What’s the alternative? Let Walker McManus’s wife walk the streets of Boston, like a normal person? She’s not normal. She’s my heart. My soul.

  “Uh…boss?” Richie prompts, tapping the newspaper section against his leg.

  I swallow hard. “Hey, man.” My smile is forced and withers almost immediately. “Sudoku, right?” I fall onto the couch and dig my thumbs into my eye sockets. “Where did you get stuck?”

  He sits down next to me. “Is something wrong?”

  I start to issue a denial, but simply say, “Yeah.”

  “But…” His tone betrays his confusion. “…you can fix anything.”

  “Thanks for your confidence in me, Rich, but I don’t know if I can fix this particular thing.” He’s waiting for an explanation and I know how much he hates people leaving him out of adult conversations, since he is one, so I force the words out. “It’s Meadow. I fell for her really hard, really fast, and then…all I could think about was losing her. So I did what I needed to do to stop me from losing her. Ever. But I think I might have lost her anyway.” A rough exhale leaves me. “Fuck, I was terrible to her. There’s no way she still loves me. I killed it.”

  Richie is quiet for a few beats. “Did you tell her you’re sorry?”

  “An apology isn’t going to cut it.”

  “You still have to try.”

  I launch to my feet and stride away, halting in front of the window. “What good is an apology if I’m not sure I’m willing to change my decision?”

  “It’s not.”

  A turn with a hollow laugh. “Don’t pull your punches or anything.”

  Richie shrugs. “You don’t lie to me, so I don’t lie to you.”

  I shake my head. “I just don’t know if there’s a way for us both to be happy. She wants a normal life and that’s the one thing I can’t give her.”

  “‘You decide your own normal.’ You told me that on the playground the day we met. Remember? I told you people don’t treat me like I’m normal and you said, ‘Richie, you decide your own normal’.”

  I face him and lean back on the windowsill. “Really?”

  “Yeah. You didn’t have it normal, either, right? Everyone knew who you were. A McManus.”

  “I didn’t want to be one,” I mutter, memories floating to the surface. “I wanted to play football and go to the dances, instead of sitting in on meetings with my father. Watching him negotiate. Or inflict injury. But I guess…I don’t know, I guess he just pushed and pushed until I stopped wanting or expecting anything but what he was offering. This life.” Cold slices through me. “Jesus, I’ve become my father.”

  Richie snorts. “No.”

  “Yes. I didn’t give a fuck about what she wanted, did I? I just told her how it was going to be, whether she liked it or not.”

  “Your father just liked to be in charge, boss. You wanted to keep her safe.”

  “I will keep her safe, no matter what. I have that power. Oh Christ…” I drag my hands down my face. “If something happened to her, I would die. But her unhappiness might kill me first. I have to try and fix this. There has to be a compromise.”

  Richie smiled. “You decide your own normal.”

  “Hey, thanks, Rich. I owe you double now,” I say, moving through the living room toward the stairs at a fast clip. “Can I take a rain check on that sudoku? I have some apologizing to do.”

  He’s already on his way to the door, tongue in the corner of his mouth, scrutinizing the puzzle as he goes. “Sure thing, boss.”

  On my way up the stairs, it occurs to me that Helen brought the tray up to Meadow half an hour ago. Why is it taking so long for her to co
me back down? Maybe she’s comforting my girl? The possibility that I’m going to walk in and find Meadow crying in Helen’s arms flays my insides.

  “Meadow?” I call, reaching for the doorknob as soon as I travel the hallway. Pushing it open and stepping inside. “Meadow, I’m sorry—”

  What the fuck.

  With a growing sense of despair, I take in every detail of the scene at once.

  Helen is tied to the bedpost with the belt off my robe.

  The window is open.

  Meadow is nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m sorry, Walker. I couldn’t stop her—”

  “She’s gone?” The words heave out of me. “How the fuck did she get out? We’re three stories up.”

  Helen looks green. “She j-jumped.”

  The roar climbs my throat and rips out like a barrage of gunfire. Ice forms on my skin as I throw myself toward the window, terrified at what I’ll find. Jesus. Jesus. She could be hurt. Could be dead. Could have killed herself trying to escape from me.

  No. No. No.

  Relief pelts me when there is nothing beneath the window.

  Meaning she’s alive. But for how long? She’s out there without protection. She’s walking right into the middle of a street war she knows nothing about. We haven’t retaliated yet for New York’s attack on me today and that means I haven’t killed them yet. They’re still out there. And if she’s seen leaving my house, she’ll be targeted. Taken. I did this. I didn’t listen. I fucking drove away the love of my life.

  I throw my head out the window. “MEADOW!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Meadow

  I got lucky escaping with a twisted ankle, but it hurts like hell.

  There was a man standing guard beneath my window, but thanks to the timing of the century, he was off peeing in a bush when I made my move. And by move, I mean risking life and limb for freedom by hurling my headstrong ass from a third-story window. Would I do it again?

  Absolutely.

  There’s definitely a knot in my throat as I hobble away from the house as quickly as possible with my throbbing injury and cut into the trees on the edge of Walker’s property, searching for a break in the gate. Come on, come on. I don’t have a lot of time. I have no doubt that Walker will notice I’m missing soon and—

  MEADOW!

  Walker’s bellow shatters the night. On reflex, I throw myself down on the ground and cover my head, because it sounds like an explosion.

  His obvious misery brings hot tears to my eyes and expels a sob from my mouth. It’s an effort to pick up and keep moving. I can hear Helen’s voice in my head telling me he was raised for violence. That he has a good heart but wasn’t given a chance to be anything but a brutal mob boss. I can feel his skin under my fingers and hear his heartbeat in my ear.

  I love you. Just hang onto me.

  I climb to my feet and pitch forward, willing away the tears in my eyes. It wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t meant to be. Keep moving.

  There is no exit anywhere along the gate and I’m wasting time by continuing to look for one. It’s not going to be easy scaling a seven-foot-high gate with a bum ankle, but I’ve got no choice. Walker is coming for me. His men are probably coming for me, too. If I don’t get over the gate and away from this house in under a minute, I’ll be thrown back in my gilded cage.

  I find a low-hanging branch on one of the trees near the gate and jump, catching hold of it, swinging my legs up as high as I can and catching the top of the gate. Then I inch my hands higher, higher, higher on the branch, until I can get my knees over the gate, take hold, pull myself over with a groan of effort and hop down onto the sidewalk. The pain in my ankle causes my vision to double momentarily and I stumble, but keep going, running as fast as I can toward the closest parked car.

  Hitchhiking is never a good decision, but I have little option.

  Please be a woman. Or a kindly old man.

  When I reach the passenger side of the car and it turns out to be the latter sitting in the driver’s side, I slump against the vehicle in relief. “Can you give me a ride? Please? Just to the closest train station. O-or bus…”

  I trail off when the man smiles at me. Not a nice smile.

  He’s looking at something over my shoulder.

  I turn and find a gun pointed at my head.

  “Well, now,” says the much younger man holding the gun. “What’s a sweet little thing like you doing out here in the dark?”

  Behind me, I hear the window roll down. “Out for a jog.”

  He cracks a laugh. “Saw you jump over that gate.” His face clears of any humor. “You came from McManus’s and if you’re escaping, sweetheart, I’m guessing it means he wants you back.”

  Panic looms heavy and my pulse speeds up. “Mc-who?”

  “Get her in the car,” comes the voice behind me.

  “No!” I try to make a run for it, but the man holding the gun is fast and he wraps an iron band of an arm around me, throwing open the car door with the other. Trying to shove me inside. But he picked the wrong day to force me into a confined space, because I have had it up to my fucking ears with men trying to lock me up. I twist and kick and punch and bite. I use a foot on the doorframe to prevent him from getting me inside. I fight for my life—and I think I knock his tooth out in the process. Good. Because I am not getting in the car.

  The sound of a gunshot jolts my body. Am I shot?

  Oh my God, did he shoot me?

  I stop struggling and glance down, searching for blood, but I see nothing. And then I’m falling backward, down onto the sidewalk. A body breaks my fall. It belongs to the lifeless man who’d been attempting to get me into the car.

  My head whips to the right and I see a figure sprinting down the sidewalk, gun drawn, his expression a mask of rage and denial.

  Walker.

  He’s here.

  Whether it’s right or wrong, relief buoys me. Joy. He’s here.

  I love him and he’s here.

  Whatever issues lie between us, I’ll be safe now. I know that for a fact.

  A car door slams and the driver returns fire in Walker’s direction.

  “No!” I scream. If he’s hurt or worse, I’ll never forgive myself. He might have kidnapped me, but he’s in danger now because of my actions. Without thinking, I crawl around the front bumper of the car and come up behind the shooter. With all of my strength, I push the car door into his back, causing him to misfire.

  “Meadow, no!” Walker roars. “Get down. Get down.”

  I don’t question him—and that’s a good thing. As soon as the driver recovers, he spins around and aims at me through the open driver’s side window. Time slows down and I can hear my inhale, exhale. He’s about to fire when his body jerks and he falls to his knees, eyes going blank, and lands face down in the street.

  In seconds, I’m being lifted into Walker’s arms. Surrounded by his men.

  Walker shouts a few orders and then we’re moving, quickly, climbing into the back of an SUV. Tires squeal and…I’ve failed? That’s it? I’ve failed. Even as I acknowledge that, I’m clinging to Walker like he’s a life raft and he’s just rescued me from the middle of the Atlantic. Nothing makes sense.

  How can I be so elated to see the man I was trying to flee?

  I don’t have time to question my confusing emotions, because Walker is laying me down on the seat, running shaking hands over my body. Up my legs, beneath my shirt and over my torso.

  “Are you hurt, baby? Oh my God. Are you fucking hurt?”

  I shake my head vigorously. “Just my ankle.”

  Walker zeroes in on the body part in question, cupping it in his hands and making a hoarse sound. “I’ll make it all better. I promise.” He sets my ankle back down carefully, before hitting me with glittering eyes. In that moment, I worry he’s gone insane. The light in his eyes is positively unholy. “I’m trying really hard here, Meadow,” he says in a strangled whisper. “I’m trying real fucking hard not to blow up. Because
I know I was wrong. I know I was a monster to you, so I’m going to attempt to not strangle you for crawling toward a man with a gun.”

  “He was going to shoot you.”

  “You just left me, Meadow,” he rasps. “I was almost hoping he would.”

  I don’t know what to say to that statement. It fills me with cement.

  “I’m only holding on to one ounce of self-preservation. One. And only because there’s a sliver of hope you’ll give me a second chance.”

  My heart leaps. “Technically, it would be your third.”

  Eyes still on fire, he shakes his head slowly. “You make jokes when I’m hanging on to my sanity by a thread?”

  “You knew what I was like. You kidnapped me anyway.”

  “Goddammit, I love you so much,” he grits out. “Now please shut up.”

  This might be an inappropriate time to laugh. I do it anyway.

  The sound sends a flash of tenderness across his face. “Meadow, I’m going to be a jealous asshole over you. I’m going to worry and get irrationally angry if you take chances—like the one you just took—but if you come be with me—”

  “Of my own free will?”

  “Yes. I will open a massage studio for you. I will have to heavily vet your female only clients, but it will be yours and it will be the best damn studio in Boston. You can come and go with bodyguards. Lots of them. I’m compromising. Do you recognize that I’m compromising?”

  A watery sounds bursts out of me. “Yes.”

  “You jumped out of a window and almost got taken by my enemies.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and I see that his hand is still shaking. “I’d like to be commended on my composure right now.”

  “You’re very composed. The most composed man of all time.” Happiness spreads its wings in my chest as I sit up and climb onto his lap, laying kisses on his cheeks and mouth. “I love you. I love you.”

  “You better, Meadow,” he says, nipping at my bottom lip, his hands moving roughly up my thighs to grip my backside. “You fucking better. My world revolves around you now. I love you so much, it could send me over the edge, but it’ll be too bad, baby, because you’re stuck with me.”