Page 49 of Ruthless Sinner
“I’ve never trusted anyone like I’ve trusted you,” I admitted.
So I trusted him when he told me we’d find a way.
The next few days, I spent recovering. Vincent and I both argued that it would be best if we acted now while my bruises were still fresh, but Marco argued that he wasn’t going to send me into another dangerous situation when I was still on bed rest. Eventually I was convinced to see things Marco’s way when the ever-helpful Toby pointed out that the extent of my beating was too severe for the story I was telling my supervisor. Misha had been beating me in order to kill me. Marco was supposed to have just knocked me around a little to test me. Johnson, or really anyone with any common sense, would be able to tell the difference and would wonder how the hell I got out of that situation alive.
So we waited, while I stopped looking less like a murder victim and more like a woman who’d just taken a couple punches.
I kept waiting for Marco’s behavior to change. For him to show some kind of sign that he was wary or angry around me now. But it never came. He looked at me the way he always had.
There was only so long I could handle that before I was ready to burst.
One thing that helped with my recovery was nice hot soaks in the balcony jacuzzi. One evening Marco joined me, and I took advantage of the opportunity.
“Why don’t you hate me?” I asked.
Marco stared at me as he got into the jacuzzi. He was powerful, thick muscle from head to toe, his colorful tattoos standing out from his tanned Italian skin. He still made my mouth water every time and I was annoyed that I wasn’t quite fit enough to be up for our usual athletic sex.
“Why would I?” he asked.
He walked through the water towards me, drops sliding down his skin. He was power personified and I couldn’t resist sliding my hands up his chest, pressing down, feeling the muscles.
“Because I lied to you that whole time. I was a fed and I was planning to help take your whole family down. There’s got to be some anger about that, right?”
Marco snorted. “Did you actually give them anything to take us down?”
“…no?”
His hands slid under my thighs and he gently lifted me up, turning us around so that as he settled down on the step, I was on his lap. His hands moved up and down my back, soothing, almost but not quite massaging.
“You were willing to die for me, Kennedy. That’s not something I take lightly. If you’d told me before… I would’ve been angry. But what the fuck were you supposed to do, huh? Tell me right away and I would’ve killed you. Wait too long and I’d kill you for betraying me. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. And now…” Marco kissed my mostly healed jaw. “You couldn’t have done more to prove your allegiance. Not in my eyes.”
“Your brother needs more convincing.”
“My brother did something for his wife. Or she did something for him. I don’t know, but it was big. He might not trust you but he understands how I feel. I know that much. And I know you’ll prove yourself to him once we take care of your boss.”
A dark look passed over Marco’s face. “Your boss is the one who needs to pay. He met you in the damn club. Like he didn’t trust you. That’s how you were found out.”
I swallowed. “I wondered—but I figured Jade wouldn’t have anyone watching if I didn’t request anyone to watch. It was a calculated risk.”
“Too big of a risk. If he really cared about you, he would’ve waited for you to be at your apartment or something.”
An odd look passed over Marco’s face, and he muttered again, “If he really cared…”
“What is it?” I asked.
Marco had that hunting wolf look, the kind he got when he was thinking. Like he’d just caught the scent of a potential deer. “Nothing. We’ll see, when you call.”
He kissed my neck, not like a prelude to something, more like a little reminder. Like he couldn’t help himself.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I’m sure. We’ll see later.”
I nodded. I trusted him this far, I could trust him with whatever little idea he had brewing in the back of his head. Especially after how I’d been working against him this whole time. I traced his tattoos with my fingers. “You know… I am feeling better.”
Marco gave me a firm look. “You’ve still got bruises.”
“But they don’t stop me from moving.” It was true. I didn’t really ache anymore. I still looked fairly bad when I looked into the mirror but it had all healed enough that I could move around without wincing.
