Ronnie yawned.

Once outside, Sissy shoved him toward the car. “Get in.”

He knew by letting her drive, he was truly risking life and limb, but no one could get them back to the house faster, and he needed to be inside Sissy. He needed to feel what it was like to sink inside her and fuck her until they both couldn’t see straight. He needed that more than anything.

Pete O’Farrell, Jr. walked out of the overpriced French restaurant and to his car, which they’d parked in the back alley. They always did this in case there was a reason to make a fast exit.

One of his guys, a slow-witted behemoth called Meat, should have been waiting for him. As soon as he realized Meat was nowhere to be seen, Pete headed back to the restaurant. But she stood in front of the door.

He’d heard about her. You couldn’t grow up in his neighborhood and not. Roxy O’Neill. She was strange, they’d say. Strange and sexy and dangerous. But no one knew why. They just knew to avoid her and her sisters.

But he knew why she was here. To fight for the life of her son. Contrary to popular belief, Pete hadn’t put the contract on that cop’s head. Hell, that kid had done what no one else had been able to do…get rid of his old man. True, for a while it looked like the cop would be able to take some of the most important guys in the crew down, but a good lawyer—like him—could find all sorts of reasons to get charges dropped. One thing after another had made those charges go away over the last couple of years. You almost felt bad for the kid.

But the problem with Petey’s charges was that the cop had witnessed it firsthand. Mitch Shaw had just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time and caught Petey O’Farrell cutting the throat of some little whore who’d made the mistake of threatening to go to Petey’s third wife about their affair. It was a typical stupid Petey O’Farrell move, and the cop happened to see it. Maybe if it hadn’t been a woman, the cop would have kept rolling undercover until he had more. But he’d lost it and nearly killed the old man. The guys had told Pete it was weird how Shaw had become…different. He was always so good natured and laid back whenever Pete had spoken to him, so no one saw it coming. But somehow, the cop had managed to calm down and had busted the old man right there, blowing his cover for good.

And for Pete, Jr…. life had turned beautiful.

“Hello, Peter.”

“Miss O’Neill.”

“I was hoping you’d have a few minutes to talk to me.”

He smiled. Shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve already had the cops at my firm, and I told them what I’m about to tell you…I didn’t put a hit out on your son.”

“And I believe that. And I know your father did.”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“Shhh.” She waved her hand. “I’m nottalking about that. I’m talking about what you think.”

He shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

“If the hit went away, what would you do?”

“Are you asking me if I want your son dead?”

“I’m asking you what you’d risk to see him dead.”

His smile returned. “Miss O’Neill—”

The loud bang cut off his words, and he turned. They’d dropped Meat onto the roof of his car, and then…it landed on him. It was big and gold and…bloody.

“I need you to answer my question, baby-boy. You see…”

And when Pete turned, there was another standing beside Roxy O’Neill, pushed up against her side, and then Pete heard this weird…grumble, and he saw two more at the far end of the alley. And two males at the mouth of the alley. He knew they were male because they had those big manes.

He could scream for help, but something told him they’d never give him the chance. He had a gun, but he knew he’d never reach it before they tore him apart.

It was late…no one was out.

And who would believe this?

“…I need to know if your father is my only problem…or if you are too?”

Shaking his head as the males neared him, Pete stammered out, “No, ma’am. It’s not me.”

“That’s good, baby-boy. That’s good.” Then her hand was around his throat, and those big, red gaudy nails she had suddenly felt different—thicker, harder, sharper—and dug into his skin. With no effort on her part, she hauled him back until he hit the car. Meat’s head was right by Pete’s. If the guy was breathing now, he wouldn’t be for long.

The one standing on Meat leaned over, and blood and drool leaked onto Pete’s forehead.

“You know me,” Roxy said. “If nothing else, I know you’ve heard of me. And my boy means more to me than I could ever say. I’ll deal with your father—and you get to take over without any problems—and you make sure when the time is right that they all back off my baby-boy. Understand?”

Pete swallowed and nodded his head.

“Good. Because no matter what you try to do to me…to my boy…there will be more of us from all over. And it will be you they come looking for. You understand that, right?”

He nodded.

“I want to hear the words.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“Good.” She stepped away from him, and the rest of them all moved at once, slipping away into the darkness like they’d never been there. “I appreciate that we understand each other.” Her hand moved away from his throat, and he blinked because he could have sworn he saw claws or…or…something before those big, red gaudy nails came back.