Free Jerked: A Stepbrother Mob Romance (City Series) by B. B. Hamel Page A

angry. “Are you joking? It’s the most important thing. That psycho thinks he has a real claim on you, all because of some Old World bullshit.”
    “He’s insane, Colin. It was a mistake.”
    “How could you marry someone like him?”
    I clenched my jaw. “I told you, it was a mistake.”
    He looked away again. “Don’t leave the house without me anymore.”
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “No. The Italians don’t know where Fabrizio is, and I can’t protect you if you’re out on your own. From now on, you don’t leave my sight.”
    “Is this some weird punishment for marrying him?”
    “No, this is for your own good.”
    “What do you know about me, Colin? I don’t owe you anything.”
    He stood up, clearly angry. I stared after him, shocked at the way the conversation had gone, reeling from the way he was acting toward me.
    “I know you don’t. But whether you like it or not, I have to watch over you. Don’t leave the house without me.”
    “Whatever. I guess I’ll be a prisoner here, too.”
    He looked at me, barely concealing his rage. “It’s fine if you think that. But I still have to make sure you’re safe.”
    “Yeah, fine.”
    He stared at me for a second, his eyes serious and intense. I couldn’t read his expression. Before I could say anything, he turned away and stalked back into the house.
    I sat there alone on the deck feeling like someone had dropped a bomb directly into my lap. It made no sense, the way he reacted. I knew he cared about me, but why did he care so much that I had married Vince? And what made him think that he could order me around?
    Nothing made sense. I wished I could go back in time and tell him up front.
    The memory of his body pressed against mine lingered even as his presence disappeared inside.

Chapter Eight: Colin
    M y hands moved fast, as fast as I could make them go. They were like a blur as I pounded again and again into the heavy bag, bashing my knuckles against the sand-filled fabric. I imagined it was Fabrizio and I was breaking his skull for hurting Bren. Sweat dripped down my body, drenching my tight black T-shirt and short red shorts as I moved my feet and started another barrage.
    I didn’t understand why I was so angry with her, why I would take her marrying that loser so personally. People made mistakes, and I’d been with plenty of girls since she left—but for some reason, I never imagined that she would really choose someone else, or at the very least, that she would never go so far as to marry them. But she did, and there I was smashing the heavy bag with my linen-wrapped knuckles, savoring the tiredness in my muscles and the pain in my fists.
    One punch and it’s Fabrizio. Another, and it’s my own face. I want to beat myself senseless for being such an ass. And I want to beat Fabrizio senseless for hurting Bren.
    I smash the bag a few more times, exhaustion from my workout beginning to overtake me, and I take a few steps back, breathing hard.
    “Good form,” I heard from over by the steps. I looked over and saw O’Brian standing there, grinning at me.
    “Hey Boss. I was just working out.”
    He shrugged, walking down into his own little private gym. He had it installed in the basement of his huge home, though he never used it himself. Sometimes I came over and gave the equipment a quick cleaning, and sometimes I even did a little circuit through the weight machines. I had no clue whether or not he was okay with it, but he never bothered me when I was down there.
    “No kidding. I thought you were trying to fuck that bag.”
    I grinned, though I wasn’t in the mood. “Been with uglier.”
    He laughed. “I bet you have, kid. How’s my daughter?”
    I clenched my jaw and began to unwrap my fists. “She’s fine, sir. Stubborn.”
    “Yeah, stubborn. That’s why you’re dealing with her and I’m not.”
    “Makes sense.”
    “Look, I’m not going to be home much for the next few days. I’ll be around, but there’s a big deal