Page 7 of Toxic Devotion

Neil stopped right in front of him and raised his hand to cup Marco’s cheek. His eyes dropped to Marco’s lips for a second before he met his gaze while sliding his hand around to the back of Marco’s head, fingers threading through his hair.

He grabbed Neil by his shirt, not caring that he got blood all over him. He should’ve been afraid. He should’ve been pushing the guy off him so he could get the hell out of there. Instead, he held on tighter.

“What I am, is not allowed to operate on US soil,” Neil said, a small smirk on his face.

CIA.Fuck.

That was the last fucking thing he needed.

“Do you know who I am?”

Neil shook his head. “No. Not very secret intelligence of me, is it?”

Marco clenched his jaw tight. He wasn’t sure he should believe him. The only problem with that was that hedidbelieve him.

Fucking hell. Two months and he’d already fucked up this hard? The other families would be laughing their asses off if they found out. Then they’d kill him.

“I know you’re not an average Joe,” Neil said, eyes intense as they ran across Marco’s face. “Aside from the way you carry yourself and how vigilant you are, you did just see me kill two guys and didn’t even blink.”

He’d seen death before. Too much of it, really. It was something he’d hoped to change once he was in charge, he’d just never thought he’d be in charge this soon.

“I’m not telling you,” he said.

The man’s smile had a thrill running through him. He quashed it. Fast.

“I didn’t expect you to,” Neil said, then gestured toward the bodies. “Like I said, I’ll take care of it. I believe they were here for me and not you.”

“If this comes back to me, you’re a dead man.”

“Deal.”

Why he didn’t resist when Neil pressed their lips together, he didn’t know. A growl rose in his chest when he felt Neil’s body pressing against his. He needed to leave. He needed to walk away and forget he’d ever met Neil. Walk away he could do. Forget, though? He wasn’t so sure.

Chapter Two

Marco

HE KNEW Rome was holding himself back, that almost indiscernible tick of his jaw the only giveaway of his anger, but nothing Rome did or said would change his mind. He’d decided that this was the best course of action, and he wasn’t backing down now.

“They won’t be happy about this,” Rome said, voice smooth and emotionless.

“I couldn’t care less about their happiness,” he said pointedly to Rome.

And there was that tick again.

“If they don’t like it, they can take it up with my gun.”

He wasn’t afraid of the Destroyers. He wasn’t about to let them expand into his territory. Well, technically, it wasn’t his yet, but it would be. The Destroyers knew better than to pick a fight over Fell’s Point. It would never belong to them. Now, the Kings on the other hand? Of those two motorcycle clubs, the Kings were the only ones he had any kind of respect for. Their president was not a man he wanted to get on the bad side of.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Rome muttered.

Marco didn’t have to ask what he meant. The Destroyers might try to hit him, but they would never succeed. His men on the other hand? His distributors? Innocent bystanders? They could easily get to them. Which was why he needed the Kings on his side. It was the only way they could avoid bloodshed. The Destroyers weren’t strong enough to take on both of them.

He rested his arms on the railing and looked up at the submarine that had its home in Baltimore’s harbor. It had been a museum for longer than he’d been alive. Mamma had taken him and his sister to see it countless times as kids. That and the aquarium. Alicia had always made them finish their trip at the Cheesecake Factory in the harbor. Those had been good times. Before Mamma died. Before he’d truly understood who and what their family were.

He knew from the way Rome tensed that the Salvation Kings had arrived. He took a second to just look at the water splashing against the sides of the submarine before he straightened and turned around.

King was a military man turned president of a motorcycle club he’d founded years ago. They usually stayed on their respective sides of their territory. The harbor was neutral ground for them both, though. King wasn’t a small man, and his leather cut laid perfectly on his broad shoulders. Anyone who looked at the man would know to fear him. He had two men with him, and they didn’t exactly look happy to see Marco.