His Mafia Queen

The Missing Link

GABRIEL

"Oh, babe..." I scoop up the obviously drunk Riley and take her into bed.

"Sorry, I'm really sch...sch...schtressed. And maybe a little drunk, too."

I gently lay her on the fluffy white duvet cover and sit on the edge of the bed as she fumbles for the hem of her T-shirt. Her blonde hair is messy and hanging in her face.

"I hate clothes," she declares.

"Let me do that for you," I say making a quick work of her T-shirt and yoga pants. She doesn't have any underwear on underneath, and she gives me a full show as she sloppily climbs into bed. But the desire I normally have for her has been replaced with cold,  calculating rage.

Not for her. But for that piece of shit.

"All this hair," she whines. "I want to cut it off."

"Babe, let me help." I go to her bathroom, grab a brush and an elastic, and return to the bed. Carefully, I brush her hair while she makes little happy  moaning noises. Then I attempt a braid on her beautiful blonde hair.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she asks, giggling.

"My niece. I learned on a My Little Pony. I have to say, your hair is much easier to braid than a rainbow pony's."

She dissolves in a fit of giggles, and I'm glad she's in a better mood. I hate seeing her upset.

I get Riley settled in the bed. Once I kiss her forehead, bring her water, and rub her back, I think she's asleep. I'm just about to go out into the living room so I can grab my cell and continue texting Andre, who is investigating Beckett's background when Riley stirs.

She grabs my hand. "No, don't leave. Are you mad at me?"

I sweep hair off her face. "Of course not, babe. I'm very, very concerned about you. And pissed off, obviously. Also I still have a lot of work to do. I cut an online meeting short."

Online meeting = going to fuck up Beckett with my bare hands.

"You didn't do anything to him did you?"

I study her face, trying to figure out why she's so concerned about this asshole's well-being.

She follows up quickly with, "I know I may be drunk, but the reason I don't want you beating his ass is because I don't want anything to happen to you. I don't want you to get in trouble."

She starts to cry.

I have to bite back to smile. Sometimes Riley is so naïve, so sweet. She has no idea that casually roughing up some loser would just as likely earn me a medal of honor in this city then an arrest.

"No one's getting in trouble. Come on, drink some water." I hand her a giant plastic glass and study her while she gulps it down.

I open my mouth to chide her about drinking and getting dehydrated. The last thing I want is for her to land back in the hospital.

She glances at me over the rim of the glass. "You're about to scold me, aren't you?"

I can't help but chuckle. "You know me too well."

"I've been staying hydrated. Joke's on you. I'm still a little drunk, though."

She hands me the glass, hiccups, then buries herself back into the bed. "It's okay. I'm right here."

I rub her back until she's breathing heavy, then there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. Shit. It must be one of my guys, with an urgent message. Who else could it be? I don't want Riley waking, so I tiptoe to the door and slip out.