Sniping Her Mafia King

Arwen woke with a start as the slamming of a car door caught her ear. The heavy weight of an arm around her shoulder made her stiffen and she tilted her head to look up at the dark eyes looking down on her. Why, oh why, had Deidre made him her savior today? He had been the reason for her drinking binge the night before. The wine had been too cheap and too strong she had gagged on the first three mouthfuls. She should have stopped. But then the chowder had tasted bitter, and she had thought it was because of the wine she was drinking, and she should have stopped eating the chowder as well.

"Why are you grinning at me?" she wanted to punch his smug face.

"Because we are home and yet you are still curled up on my chest like a helpless kitten. It's cute." He followed her gaze to the front door of her house, "Enrico and Santino are helping Deidre in with the bags. She is exhausted."

"Poor Deidre," she ignored his helpless kitten comment and struggled against his stupidly firm chest to sit upright. "I should go see if she is alright."

"You need a shower and bed." He argued. "My friends will help her."

"Your friends or employees?"

"Santino and Enrico have been my friends since I was a toddler. We are closer than brothers and while they are on my payroll, there is nobody in the world I would rather have at my side to conduct my business than them. They are more loyal and trustworthy than my own blood." He held her gaze seriously the smile now gone off his face, "now if there are any other nasty things you need to get off your chest before I take you in and help your cousin get you settled, then please, do it now. I would hate for Deidre to see how nasty you can be when you are feeling vulnerable."

"f**k you're an arrogant prick."

"No s**t," he retorted dryly. "Is that all you got or is there more you want to throw out there?"

"I want to go in my house." She glared at him, "alone."

"Request denied," he mocked her pout with wide eyes, "your cousin tells me your room is on the second floor and she's terrified you'll roll down the stairs and die. I told her I would help get you settled, and I will. Again, this isn't for your benefit, Arwen. I like Deidre. She is smart and funny and perhaps a bit sheltered, but her innocence makes me want to protect her. She has asked for my help, and I will give it to her. You, I'm annoyed with. You let her go out without a chaperone last night and then proceeded to get so drunk, when she came back to her hotel, she had to take care of you. What if something would have happened to her last night when she was on a date with a boy she had just met?"

Arwen glared at him, "do you think I'm so stupid?"

"Which part of what I just said makes you think otherwise?" He didn't back down from her fury.

"She was watched the entire time she was out," Arwen slid across the seat away from where he blocked the door nearest them. "I had a friend in Boston who followed their every move. If he would have so much touched her knee under the table, I would have known, and he'd been in the hospital. It was her first date, Addy. I didn't want to sit at the table with them but I sure as f**k wasn't letting a man with far more experience than she has try to turn her into a puck bunny." She saw his surprised glance, "for the record, he was a perfect gentleman and when he walked her to our hotel door at eleven, he kissed her cheek." She rubbed her stomach as it churned, "I needed her to think I trusted her judgement enough to go out and be an adult and so I drank a bit to make the show worth it, but my friend had her covered. Unfortunately, the wine and my dinner were both poison and it's caused a hell of a headache." She pushed the door open and swung her legs out, gasping in the fresh air. As she moved to stand using the door for support, she felt her knees buckle and she sat back on the edge of the seat. "f**k," she muttered as she tried to stand.

He was in front of her in seconds and scooping her up into his arms. "You swear too much."

"Deal with it."

"I have no need to deal with it. We're not a couple. It was only an observation."

This was the third time he'd made it clear he wasn't there for her, and it stung more each time. She pushed weakly against his chest, "I can walk."

He immediately stood her feet several steps away from the stairs, "have at it." He waved to the house for her to go.

She took two steps and then grunted, "fine, I need help."

He swung her back up in his arms and carried her into the house. She noted one of the two men he'd been with talking to Deidre in her kitchen.

"Addy, Deidre invited us for lunch. Your aunt's lasagne," the man held up a frozen foil wrapped pan. "She said it's the least she can do for us helping her."

"Enrico, you are a sucker for Fabiana's food. Deidre, we will gladly accept your invite to lunch. If you ask nicely, Enrico will make you a lovely salad to go with. He's very good at it. I'll help Arwen settle into bed. Santino, bring tea please?"

"Will do," the other man nodded. "I already put a bottle of an electrolyte drink and anti-nausea meds she can take with the migraine tablet on her bedside table and there was a 'shower steamer"," he made air quotes, "product in the bag from the pharmacy which smells like eucalyptus. Stefano said the pharmacist was a hippy chick who swore it would help with the headache. It's on the vanity in the bathroom."

"Thank you, Santino," he started up the stairs with Arwen in his arms.

She twisted to look at him incredulously, "you sent someone to the pharmacy for me?"

"No. I sent my men for Deidre. I did not want to see her have to run to the pharmacy on your behalf when she's already so stressed. She needs a decent meal and rest."

With every comment from him about his not being there for her, she was growing more and more impatient with him. He was of course doing nothing wrong. She had told him she was done with him. She hadn't asked him for help, Deidre had. He was doing everything for Dee to make her life easier because right now, Arwen was incapacitated. It was a rare occasion for her to have to rely on someone and she had to admit, whether it was for her or for Deidre, she was grateful he was there.

As they reached the landing she pointed to the door at the far end of the hall. He kicked her bedroom door open and moved straight to the bathroom, deposited her on her feet. The cold tile on the floor made her shiver and she made a face. "Can you turn the in- floor heating on please?"

He looked over his shoulder and saw the switch she was referring to and pushed the button. He moved to her and without warning began tugging at her shirt.

"What are you doing?" she pulled it back down.

"You smell of vomit and booze. You need a shower."

"I can bathe myself."

"Can you?" he watched as she rocked on her feet. "Trust me, cara, s*x is the furthest thing from my mind. You smell abhorrent. Your eyes are so swollen and narrow you remind me of a mole coming out from under the ground for the first time. You are swaying on your feet as we simply stand here. I do not trust you will not fall over in the shower. I am not leaving. Suck it up."

"You are leaving."

"And if you fall over, smash your head, and end up with a concussion, what does Deidre do with your body?"

"Ugh," she threw her arms up in the air in frustration and he took the opportunity to rip her t-shirt over her head in a quick movement. She immediately started shaking from the chill in the air, her teeth chattering loudly. He cursed loudly as he pushed her to a sitting position on the closed toilet seat and then reached into her shower to turn the water on.

She looked around her bathroom and wondered how it compared to what he was used to. She loved the room with it's free-standing clawfoot soaker tub and her slate tiled shower with the rainfall waterspout. Her bathroom wasn't girly or feminine but warm and dark like her own personal spa. She could reduce the lights in the room for ambience if she wished and the double-sink vanity was long and wide. The grey marbled counters matching the dark grey slate of her shower and floor tiles and creamy whites of the tub, and the linen closet door were a perfect contrast to it all. His personal bathroom was probably gold and Carrera with every tile costing a thousand dollars.

She examined his dark head as he kneeled on the floor in front of her, taking her sneakers off her feet and tossing them aside before pulling off her socks. Nobody had removed her socks since she had been a small child. It felt personal and intimate, and she felt a k not forming in her throat as she wondered whether she was losing her mind. It was socks but he was being so gentle and tender it caused a wave of memory of what it was like to be cared for like this. She blinked the tears away as she looked up at the lights over head.

"Lift your bottom so I can get these pants off," he shook his head. "Sweatpants in June."

"They're comfy to travel in," she whispered quietly as she noted she was sitting only in a bra and panties in front of him. He rose up in front of her and then reached to the vanity, pulled open a bag, and held out a little ball reminding her of a bath bomb. It smelled minty and relaxing.

"It says here to just throw it on the floor of your shower and the shower should fill with scent." He shrugged, "worth a try." He dropped it on the floor and then pulled her upright. "Now, let's get you cleaned up." He reached behind her and undid her bra and then shoved her underwear down. He rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and she realized at some point, he'd tossed his jacket onto the countertop.

If he was even remotely interested in seeing her completely naked for the first time, he made no show of it. He was perfectly perfunctory with his movements, and he lifted her up by the waist and stood her under the water.

"You'll get wet," she protested as he reached past her for her loofah and bodywash. She was more concerned with the notion of him scrubbing her body down, than him being damp. He was taking such good care of her, and it was not for her. He was doing it all as a favor for her cousin. She stifled a sob at the thought. She kept her eyes closed and her face turned to the water so he wouldn't see the tears. She had told him she didn't want him. She was such a liar.

"I always keep a change of clothes in the car. If I get wet, I get wet." He began meticulously lathering her body up with the soap. "The shower thing smells good. Do you like the scent? I don't imagine it actually works on removing headaches, but it must be relaxing a bit."

She could only nod as she tried to stop her crying without him seeing she was crying. She was a mess. A completely glorified mess. When he took the handheld shower from the hook on the wall to rinse off the soap, she was reminded of when she used the hose to wash her car down. There was nothing sensual or romantic about it. He was simply rinsing bubbles away. She sniffed and lowered her face as she put her hands against the wall for support. Her legs were growing tired, and her heart was aching.

She almost broke when she felt his fingers in her hair. He was washing her hair. Long gentle movements to soothe and massage her scalp and she couldn't help herself as she leaned her head back into his palms. She didn't dare open her eyes because if she had to see him looking at her the way he had undressing her, as if she were nothing more than a lifeless doll with no impact on him, she would surely fall to pieces.

He turned her so he could rinse her hair out and then turned her again and put the conditioner in it before rinsing it as well.

Her undoing was almost caused when he grabbed a washcloth and very gently washed her face, trailing the cloth ever so lightly along her eyes and her cheeks before brushing against her lips. He clearly had found her face cleanser and he used his fingertips to massage it into her skin gently before wiping it away with the cloth.

After giving her one final rinse from head to toe with the hand-held wand, he turned the water off and then wrapped her in a thick towel. He sat her back on the closed toilet seat and put her toothbrush in her hand, preloaded with toothpaste. He was efficient and quick and, she admitted sadly, exceptionally good at taking care of her needs in this moment.

She heard him walk out of the bathroom and she finally opened her eyes and began brushing her teeth. She noted he'd even put a cup and a bottle of water for her to rinse with within her reach and she wiped a tear off her cheek. None of this was for her. It was all so Deidre didn't have to deal with her. Her heart felt heavy with the reminder echoing in her ears.

She looked up as he came back into the bathroom and noted he'd tossed his dress shirt and was in a wife-beater type shirt, his arms completely bare and a dark sprinkling of chest hair peeking out the top of the cotton undershirt. A gold chain with a cross hung against his chest and he looked rugged and masculine. She stared at the tattoos coating his biceps and extended under his clothes. She would never have guessed under all his clothes he had tattoos.

"I found a cotton nightshirt," he held up a shirt Deidre had gotten her years ago with the Disney characters Lilo and Stitch with the words "ohana means family" emblazoned across the chest. "I figure it will be cool enough to sleep in."

She nodded and finished brushing her teeth as he leaned against her bathroom door watching her.

"You are very pale," he said suddenly. "You need fluids I think."

Arwen still couldn't speak, emotions heavily clogging her throat and instead she gave a half nod and then pushed up from the toilet seat to rinse her toothbrush out. She set it back in its holder and let him help her into her nightdress. She reached for her hairbrush, and he took it from her fingertips. He pushed tablets into her hand and motioned at the water.

"Take those and then go sit on the bed. I'll brush your hair out and dry it for you. You don't want to have a wet pillow."

"I can -"

"You can do it yourself, I know," he cut her off, rolled his eyes and waved her in the direction of the bed. "Stop arguing Arwen and just get onto the bed. f**k, I have dealt with less argumentative children."

"Since when have you put children to bed?"

He shrugged, "Enrico has three girls. His oldest just turned nineteen. I have babysat many a time so he and his wife can have date night. His oldest is my goddaughter. She has Enrico for a father and me and Santino for uncles. Silly girl thinks she's allowed to go on dates." He clucked his tongue in disproval.

"If she's nineteen, she's old enough." Arwen argued with him as she sat on the bed, noting he had closed her bedroom door earlier. The curtains were also closed, and the room was dim. Her headache was already diminishing from the darker room. "Rich coming from you. You sent a spy," he lifted an eyebrow at her.

"I want her to date. I want her to have all the experiences a young woman should have. I just don't want anyone to take advantage of her heart. She is by far the kindest person I've ever met, and I worry they will hurt her." Arwen sat cross legged on the bed as he kneeled behind her and began brushing her hair. "It's not, I don't want her to find someone. I just worry the wrong someone finds her."

"What were you like at nineteen? You would have just started taking care of her."

"Angry, hostile, terrified," she admitted as he stroked her hair.

"You mentioned a housefire," he said quietly. "You lost your aunt and uncle to it and Deidre got hurt when you were just nineteen."

"That feels like so long ago," she admitted.

"Tell me about your family," he said suddenly as he dragged the brush through her hair.

"After my mom died, my aunt and uncle moved me and Dad in with them. It wasn't even up for discussion. My aunt was a super strong-willed woman and Dad couldn't argue with her. She said it made more sense for me to have a steady home that was the same whether he was deployed or whether he was stationed home. It was a big old farmhouse with plenty of room. We had a ranch with all kinds of animals. My aunt was the farmer and she made me, and Dee do chores every morning before school and every afternoon after homework, unless I was in an extracurricular activity, and I had a lot of them. I swear I joined every club I could to get out of mucking stalls."

His laugh made her smile, "When dad was home, he was at every practice, every game, every competition as were my aunt and uncle. My uncle ran his own construction company. My dad and my uncle were men's men. Not to say they expected dinner on the table or anything so old-fashioned, but they put a lot of stock on being the ones to protect their family and keep us safe. My dad taught me to shoot when I was four. It was an activity we loved to do together. We hunted and fished and there was one time he took me into the woods for four weeks and we just lived off the land. I came home grubby and dirty my aunt threatened to use the pressure washer on me." She giggled with the memory before sighing sadly. "When he died, I didn't think I would ever recover." She wiped a tear off her cheek, "my aunt Charlotte, let me cry for three days in my bed. The day of his funeral, I got up, got dressed and attended the military funeral he deserved. Then, when I got home my uncle put me back to bed and then they both laid with me all night and we cried all night long and talked about all the amazing things he did for us. The next morning my aunt woke me up and said it was time to do right by my dad and keep living. He'd be pissed if he thought I had curled into a ball and died with him. I had to get up and put one foot in front of the other. No more missing school. No more skipping clubs. Everything I did, was for his memory. I was still allowed to cry. I was still allowed to be angry and want to lash out, but I had to keep living. Those were her rules." "So, I did. I rose my bike like he wanted. I continued to shoot like he wanted. I went to gymnastics and karate like he wanted. I kept living like he wanted." She shook her head, "then I got accepted into university. I was partway through my second year, and I got a call there had been an explosion at the house. Agent No d**k showed up at my college campus while I was racing to my bike to tell me a motorcycle gang had blew it up. He offered me his protection. I told him to go f**k himself." Addy was quiet. "Your family's house was targeted by a motorcycle gang?"

Arwen considered his rage was palpable behind her as she realized her faux pas. She'd gone too far in sharing her family history. She was going to have to tell it all or he'd be looking for a gang to punish. She took a breath and prepared to spill her secret.