Cross the Line (Boston Love Story #2)

This time, I’m brought straight to the source — the infamous Keegan MacDonough. The big kahuna. The King of Evil himself.

I’d be flattered I merit a meeting with a veritable mob boss if, you know, my heart wasn’t racing three times its normal speed, my legs weren’t trembling with each step, and my palms weren’t coated with a sheen of sweat so slippery I could slick down a stripper pole.

I try to straighten my blouse and brush some of the dirt off my jeans as we move through the abandoned warehouse toward Mac’s office, but there’s not much of a point. I have a feeling I won’t make it out of this meeting alive, anyway.

As a general rule, evil-doers don’t bring you to their lairs without a blindfold unless they’re going to off you afterward.

At least, not according to the many, many hours of Nikita I binge-watched on Netflix last month.

Sigh.

Petey’s got a firm grip on my arm as he pulls me down the hall, so tight I’m sure I’ll have a cuff of dark bruises around my bicep in an hour or so. He’s a wee bit upset about the whole getting-the-shit-kicked-out-of-him-by-a-girl thing.

The thought makes me smirk as I replay those last moments in the parking lot.

As soon as my hands hit the air, Petey scrambled to his feet and backhanded me across the face so hard, the world went out of focus for a few seconds. Parker tried to fight to get to me, but Cormack punched him hard in the shoulder where the bullet was lodged, and I watched in horror as my brother crumpled to the ground, incapacitated by the pain.

“Nate!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, earning another slap from Petey. “Help!”

He was too far away. Still holding off the rest of Mac’s boys on the airstrip. Every few seconds, the sound of a shot rang out in the distance.

Please don’t die.

Cormack grabbed my chin. “Keep fighting, make another goddamned sound, and I’ll shoot your brother in the head.”

All the fight went out of me. I stood there, staring at Parker’s limp body, wondering if I’d ever see him again.

They dragged me off to one of their cars, a nondescript tan sedan stashed out of sight in the bushes behind the hangar, leaving Parker and Boo lying on the cold ground mere inches from each other.

I was too far away to tell if their chests were moving.

I’d lost them all — Parker, Nate, Boo.

As we rode away from the airfield, sounds of gunfire fading into the distance behind us, I thought of Nate, wrapping the memory of his words around me like a blanket.

We’re worth everything.

You and I mated for life about a million years ago, little bird.

I love you.

I keep those words close to my heart now, as we come to a stop outside a black door.

“When Mac’s through with you, you and me are gonna have a meeting of our own,” Petey says, his mouth so close to my ear I can feel his hot breath on my neck.

I try to stay still, to show him he doesn’t scare me.

He chuckles darkly, hands slithering down my body as he checks to see if I’m wearing a wire or concealing any weapons. Or maybe he just wants to cop a feel. Who knows.

“Proud little bitch, aren’t you?” His hands roam beneath my shirt and I try not to react. “We’ll see how proud you are when you’re sucking my dick.”

I keep my eyes on the door. “Sorry,” I murmur, voice sweet. “I was warned never to put small objects in my mouth. Choking hazard, and all.”

“Bitch!”

I wince as I see his hand pull back in my peripheral, anticipating the pain of another strike. To my surprise, his fist never connects. From the corner of my eye, I see Cormack’s got his hand around Petey’s forearm, halting it midair.

“Mac will be pissed if you hit her again,” Cormack says, eyes on his partner. “Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

Petey growls in displeasure, yanks his arm free, and scowls. “Whatever. She’s clean. No wires, no cell, nothing.”

I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t wilt as relief washes through me.

It’s short lived.

The door swings open and I’m shoved into the office of Boston’s most notorious crime lord.





Chapter Twenty-Nine

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