Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“I must have read the same article twenty times tonight,” she claimed, turning to him. “Tragedy at the Ritz. Nick Roselli victim of a tragic accident.”
“Accident,” Slater chuckled, high fiving me and then Rocco. “I couldn’t have dreamed of a better way to end that bastard. Violent. Terrifying. And most of all? It looked like an accident. The organization can’t blame us for this, even if they want to.”
“Which they won’t,” Rocco went on. “This was a sanctioned hit. At least one mob boss authorized it.”
Inside, I poured amber liquid out of one of the bottles that hadn’t smashed. We clinked our glasses together while Maggie gulped down half of us hers. She didn’t bother leaving her own glass on the table. “Refill, please.”
“Whatever you say, Ms. Heir to the Throne,” Slater teased with a smile. “Which reminds me; we have to go over to Roselli’s mansion and get that will.”
“I know it’s a little too early to ask, but what are you going to do with all that money?” Rocco asked.
“You’re right,” she giggled, lifting her gaze up to his. “It is too early. Right now, I just want to get drunk.”
“Don’t we all?” Slater laughed out, holding his glass closer to his chest.
“I never enjoyed killing,” Rocco confessed, more booze moistening his lips. “It just came with the territory. But part of me wishes I could go back and throw Roselli off that fucking roof again. And again.”
“I can understand why,” Maggie said, nodding. “We went through a lot because of him.”
“We had to go through hell,” I corrected her. “But it’s over now.”
“Well done, Mr. DeLuca, Mr. Knight, and Mr. Winslow.” Maggie’s voice was somehow sincere and flirtatious at the same time. “I’m proud of you. All of you.”
“You did pretty good, too,” I said. “Call me sexist, but I never thought a woman could keep her cool like you have throughout.”
She grinned at me. “Okay, you’re sexist.”
Rocco swung his arm around her. “I knew that. I knew from the first moment when she pulled a shotgun on two goons trying to rob her bar.”
I downed my drink and laughed. This felt like my reward—to have us all here together. It made me remember what it took for us to get here. The pain and the agony we had to endure, in order to get out of this ordeal alive. The weeks of uncertainty.
That’s why I fucking loved every second of this of this tonight. How couldn’t I? I had risked everything I had in the process, including my own life. We could spend the rest of the night laughing, drinking, and hopefully, having amazing sex. We had earned our freedom, and now was the time to enjoy the fruits of our labor.
It was about damn time.
33
ROCCO
I woke up next to my buddies. Naked next to my buddies.
I sat up, shoving Slater’s arm out of the way. Where the fuck was Maggie? She’d been a very integral part of our celebration last night. Grumbling, I made my way to the kitchen, stopping to get rid of what felt like a gallon of whiskey in the bathroom first.
Out on the table was a note. Maggie had gone to the drugstore for some medicine. She wasn’t feeling well, the note said.
Well, she’d had a lot to drink the night before. We all had.
I glanced out the window as I put on the coffee. My SUV was gone, so she must’ve taken it.
We were all up and dressed, by the time I saw her pull in. Julian had even scrambled some eggs.
When Maggie entered the cabin carrying a white bag, I picked her up and spun her around. She hugged me back, but then she groaned. And not the same kind of groan I’d heard last night when we made her come again and again.
She pushed against my chest. “Put me down—I’m still feeling a bit hungover.”
Slater grinned at her from across the room. “And the spinning isn't helping?”
“Definitely not.”
She walked over and gave him a quick kiss. Then Julian offered her a plate of eggs.
“No thanks,” she squeaked, her face turning green. She sprinted to the bathroom, the pharmacy bag still clutched in her hand.
Unlike her, we were in good enough shape to eat. We were almost done by the time Maggie emerged from the bathroom.
“You okay, sweetheart?” I called.
She nodded, but she still looked a little green around the gills.
Julian noticed, too, and pulled out a chair. “Here, have a seat.”
She moved forward as if in slow motion. I couldn’t quite figure it out. I’d seen her hungover before. Next time we had a wild evening, it would have to include more sex and less booze.
I could get behind that.
Slater reached across the table to cup Maggie’s cheek. Then he frowned. “Do we need to take you to a doctor?”