Page 5 of Heaven Help Me
Bettina claps her hands. We both turn our heads to stare at her. “Children!”
Deuce snorts. I turn back to see him rolling his eyes. “This will never work.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” The words are out before I’ve had a chance to rethink them. Acting like I’m in agreement with Deuce is not a stance I prefer to ever take.
Deuce’s gaze locks with mine and for a split second it’s like the whole world fades away. No one is threatening my family. I’m not facing going into hiding for the foreseeable future. This man didn’t betray me all those years ago. It’s just a charged moment where a good-looking man stares deep into my soul and likes what he finds.
And then Bettina speaks and the moment dissolves.
“You will stop this bullshit between you. You two act like children, squabbling and pointing fingers. You will make this work while I will fix this little issue.” When we don’t respond, she snaps, “Do you understand?”
The door opens and both bodyguards step inside with weapons drawn. When Bettina raises her voice, there’s clearly something wrong.
I suddenly have a need to stare at my stilettos. Fuck, I hate feeling like a chastised child at forty fucking years old.
Deuce mutters under his breath, “Yep. Got it.”
Bettina snaps her fingers. I lift my head to see her glaring at me.
“Yes, Bettina. We’ll make it work.”
She lifts an eyebrow.
“And thank you,” I say begrudgingly.
She may no longer be the head of a powerful crime family, but she has all the connections and power as if she did. She could have me snuffed out with the flick of her wrist. I’m not foolish enough to think there’s enough familial connection for her to stay her hand even if she did adopt me when I was a little kid. People like her and me don’t operate from a place of love and trust. It’s power and money and threats that make the world spin.
Bettina sniffs. “Now get out of here so I can enjoy my breakfast in peace. I expect to not hear a peep out of either one of you until I send for you.”
Deuce buttons his suit jacket, pulls at his expensive cuffed sleeves, and gestures for me to go in front of him to the door where the bodyguards continue to wait, though they’ve holstered their weapons at least.
“I need to get my bag,” I mutter, turning back to the bedroom.
Deuce stops me with a hand on my arm. “I’ll get it.”
“I don’t need help carrying my bag,” I snap.
“Didn’t say you did, but here in the South, we gentlemen like to take care of our little ladies,” Deuce drawls.
Where the fuck did that accent come from?
He strides ahead of me and I see him swipe my leather duffle off the bed and come back through the suite. I glance at Bettina but she refuses to make eye contact with me. She knows I’m angry. She’s well aware of my longstanding hatred toward her flesh-and-blood son. Deuce’s hand lands on my back, spinning me in the direction of the exit. I rebuke the shiver that wants to streak down my torso at his touch.
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t bother looking at me as he pushes me out the door. “To my house, darlin’. You now live with me.”
I roll my eyes and stuff down the words I actually want to say. I’ll let him drag me away from Bettina, but as soon as she’s back in New York, I’ll find my own place to stay. If she can’t provide a plan B, I’ll make one my damn self.
Because there’s no way in hell I’m living with Deuce St. Legare in Heaven, Mississippi, pretending to be his sweet little girlfriend.
I’d rather offer myself up to the masked mystery men and drop to my knees to let them end it all.
CHAPTER THREE
Deuce
Not one word is spoken during the drive from downtown Heaven to my house on the north side of town, closer to the university. It’s a rambling old Victorian-looking home with a wraparound porch, rosebushes that have been blooming longer than I’ve been alive, and more bedrooms than I know what to do with. I actually grew up in this house.
