Ready for another sneak peek? Read on . . .
Other than the light illuminating from the pool room, my place is dark and quiet. It’s how I like it. I like my space and my privacy. Never have I brought a woman to my penthouse in the Bay Area except for my sister and Leigh Kim. My little sis doesn’t count. She’s family. I can say the same for Leigh, though she wasn’t family or a woman when I brought her here.
Leigh was a reckless, troublesome teenager in need of guidance when she stole and crashed my Bugatti when she was sixteen. Fast forward two years, and I consider her a good friend. I hope she and that boy she likes, Seven Shanahan, have a nice time at their homecoming dance tonight.
To think it was only two weeks ago that my guys found out Leigh’s mother had an affair with Seven’s uncle, Tony McCabe. Shit, first my sister and her ongoing testing of the guys I have guarding her, and now a young lady who is like a little sister to me is involving herself with a boy whose father is part of a large family rumored to be mobsters legitimizing themselves as reputable businessmen and women.
And one of the McCabes, the most ruthless, will be paying me a visit, according to the message sent to me. Fuck sakes, who sends someone a box with a hand nailed to a piece of plywood with “will be in touch” written on flesh?
Needing something other than alcohol or a woman’s body to take my mind off Cillian McCabe’s not-so-subtle message to keep my hands off the strip of businesses in southeastern Oakland, an area he controls through intimidation and bribery, I strip off my clothes. They fall where they land, and I step inside my sanctuary, lowering myself into the heated pool.
Dunking my head in, I swim from one end to the other. Near the ladder on the other side, my fingers brush flesh. My eyes shoot open, and fuck me if I’m not looking into the widest eyes I have ever seen.
“Blaise?”
“Um, hello, Maddox.”
She’s hiding behind the ladder with one arm across her chest and the other down low. I see the reason her hands are where they’re at.
“You’re naked.” I keep my eyes on her face.
“So are you.”