Note I say into, not “good at”. But hey, it makes him happy.
I can hear his voice as I walk down the hall from the back staircase. As I get closer, I realize this is more of a homecoming than I was expecting.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Carmy, the middle of my three older brothers, grins as I shuffle into the kitchen and head directly to the coffee pot. He’s sitting at the breakfast table with my youngest older brother, Nico, along with our dad.
“You know, after you move out, especially when you insisted on it, it’s usually a bad look to move back in.”
I wait until the two gulps of black coffee have worked their magic before I turn to wrinkle my nose and give Nico a stink eye.
“I’m allowed to visit, dickhead.”
He grins. Dad gives him a lighthearted cuff upside the head. “She’s welcome back here anytime. You got that, Bumblebee? Any time.”
I grin at my favorite nickname of his for me.
“Why thank you, Father.”
Technically, Vito isn’t my father. At least not biologically. Nor is he Dante’s—my oldest brother, who’s currently leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee. I don’t really have any memories of our real dad, because I was only two when he and Mom died. But he was a close friend of Vito’s—he was his personal tailor, actually. And Dante grew up playing with Carmy and Nico as if they were cousins, or even brothers. Claudia, our older sister, did as well.
So when Mom and Dad passed, Vito immediately took us in as his own and raised us as three other kids in the Barone family.
Dante frowns as his gaze lands on the Band-Aids on both my knees, not to mention the bruises on other parts of my legs. The hoodie’s covering the bruises on my arms from last night. But it’s not like I knew I was crashing at my dad’s house when I left for work yesterday morning, and all I had here were sleep shorts.
“What the hell?” he growls with a mix of accusation and concern. That’s pretty much Dante in a nutshell. A little bossy, a little grumpy, and a lot overprotective. At least he’s mellowed a bit these days since marrying Tempest.
I shrug nonchalantly, trying not to tense when everyone else in the kitchen frowns and studies my bruises.
“Just work. A lift went sideways and I got banged up. It’s no big deal.”
Actually, it might be. I had a ton of missed calls and texts from Alicia when I got in last night. I didn’t feel like talking about what had happened—I’m not sure I could have talked about it last night, since I was shaking so hard. But after I cleaned up, I did send her a text that I was home and okay after running away from the two guys who attacked us.
I’ll deal with the fact that she and Irena left me there later.
That, and the last text she sent me last night that I never replied to:
Alicia
What about the duffle bag
I have no idea how much money seven bricks of cocaine is worth. But I feel like it might be a lot. That’s between Alicia and Grisha, though.
“What are you all doing here?”
Carmy shrugs. “I was nearby this morning.”
I roll my eyes. “Did you catch her name at any point?”
“Har, har, har,” he drawls. “I was nearby on business, brat. Besides,” he grins. “You know I never actually sleep over.”
“Such a gentleman.”
Carmy snickers as he turns to Dad. “Back me up here, Pop.”
Vito lifts his shoulders. “I mean, sometimes, the ladies… They want you to stay over, you know? A little cuddling, a little pillow talk…”
I make a face and cover my ears. “Oh my God, I am not listening to this.”
Nico laughs and nods his chin at Dante. “I was with this guy. He wanted to show dad the new online portal for Venom.”
Dante is the owner and operator of Club Venom, an ultra-exclusive, members-only club that caters mostly to New York’s most dangerous and elite…and, frankly, most deviant. On the surface, it’s an ultra-cool club decorated somewhere between the glamor of the roaring twenties and the sultriness of Eyes Wide Shut.
It also happens to be a place where its members can act out different, usually fairly aggressive kinks. Names are discouraged, everyone wears these sort of Venetian carnival masks, and members sport different colored wristbands advertising what they’re into.
Or…so I’ve been told. Obviously, I’ve never been. Not because I don’t want to go, but because Dante is a tyrant and the world’s most over-protective older brother in the universe who still treats me like I’m seven. Which means I’m forbidden from entering Club Venom.
I’ve heard of this online portal thing before, though. Dante and Tempest had this idea a few months ago to make some kinks available to…off-site participation.
My skin tingles as I rake my teeth over my bottom lip.
By “some kinks” I mean “my kink”. One of them, anyway. The biggest one.
Primal play.
Being chased and caught. Being forced down and taken, roughly, with or without consent.
There might be more than a few things wrong with me, but I digress.
