Never Say Never (Vitale Brothers, #4)

by Brea Alepoú

"What's wrong?" "Someone, uh..." I stumbled, my feet unsteady. "Someone tried to kill us." "Us?" "Me and the girls." "I'm coming."

"Who the fuck is in charge? Move back. Move!" I turned as Paul entered the garage, anger written all over his face. The fire had been put out, the bomb squad had checked to make sure there were no other devices, and now we simply stood there, waiting while I talked to the officers and insisted that they don't touch anything. Hunter, Summer, and Jamie were all on their way to the scene.

"Girls." Paul dropped down and gathered them in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Found this," he said. "When were you going to tell me someone was after you?"

told you to stop. The Triads won't stand for this harrassment. You get no more warnings. All of you are dead. I shuddered. They said no more warnings, but I had a feeling that this was a warning too. If they wanted, they could have let us get into the car and detonated it after. This? It was a game of cat and mouse. They knew I wouldn't back off, and I knew they really would kill us. My hand shook so much the paper flapped and fluttered. "Give me that,"

"Jesus Christ. No more warnings? How many have they sent?"

"My job doesn't come with...

"Fuck me, York! You can't go around getting threats and ignoring them, dumbass! Do you know how incredibly fucking stupid

this is? You could have been killed. The girls could have been killed! Are you getting that?"

"Back off," I said, evenly. "I've done everything I can to protect my daughters. I don't need you on my ass about it." "Someone needs to be,"

"How long has this been going on?" I glanced at the wreck. "A few weeks." Paul cursed under his breath in what sounded like Italian.

"You should have told me. Or one of the team. A higher up. Someone," he expressed. "Easier said than done. I get threats almost every week from some asshole I've tossed in prison. Newsflash, what we do isn't exactly safe." "Then why the fuck are you doing it when you have Navy and Nyra to worry about!"

"I’m sorry, what would you like me to do? Crochet? Knit? Sit in a fucking corner and rock back and forth? The world is dangerous and my job is my life,"

"There are no guarantees anywhere. I could be a school teacher or an artist or a store clerk and there's still a chance that someone will end up killing me. Or them. At least with this job, I make a difference. I make the world a little safer for them."

"Are you stupid? Do you want to die? These people are not the type you want to fuck around with. They will kill you, your kids, burn your house to the ground, and piss on the ashes. Do you understand that?"

"Why?" he snapped. "They already know who I am," I said. "At this point, I'm stuck. None of this is going to stop until I stop it. Do you get that?" "No, I don't get why you think it has to be you that puts himself in danger," he growled. "You're being a moron." "Oh well."

"You're the most stubborn motherfucker I have ever met in my life!" I raised a brow. "Probably."

"I don't want you to get hurt. Please. Don't keep pursuing this."

"York, I can't take losing you or the girls. Don't do this."

"This is my job. I can't just stop." "Not even for me?" "No." Paul's face fell. "Yeah, I figured you would say that," he muttered.

I reached for him as he walked away, but my hand fell. There was so much about Paul that I still didn't know, so much that he needed to explain.

"York?" Paul was in my face the next minute, my hands in his as he gazed at me. I stared at him. "Where did you go?" he asked. "Are you okay? You're shaking."

"Paul, stop. Let go of me, people are watching." "I don't give a fuck!" he growled. "Come here. Just shut up and come here." Paul tugged me into his arms and I was wrapped in warmth. He held me tightly, his breath feathering against my neck as he gripped me so hard it hurt. I didn't push him away, didn't make it stop. Just for a minute, I allowed myself to feel that old fear, that old paranoia. And for just a minute, I allowed myself to feel safe in Paul's arms.

I'm exhausted. I don't want to lie to him anymore.

"Hello, Navy and Nyra." "How did you know it's both of us?"

The guards wouldn’t leave without a reason. Either someone drew them out or they were dead. Hoping my instincts were wrong, and it was a trick of the eye, I waited on bated breath. "Paul!" Not yet. My stomach was in tight knots, sweat beaded on my forehead. It was subtle, but there was movement.

"Girls, listen carefully." Both of them went silent. I don't know if it was my tone of voice or if York already had them trained for such times. "Where is Shelly?" "Bathroom,"

"Okay, can both of you go to your dad's room and look for those tasers he confiscated?" "But Dad said we aren't supposed to play with them anymore," Nyra said.

"Normally no, but you two are big girls. Navy, do you know where they are?" "Yep. Top shelf in his closet."

both of you go in there grab them. Get Shelly and wait out in your dad's closet." I waited for the questions even as I pushed past the heavy metal door ...

"We're listening...

"Is Dad close?" "Yes, me and your dad will be there soon but I need both of you to do me a big favor and turn on the loudest movie you can, okay?"

"Found them!" Navy shouted. It wouldn't kill the intruders, but it sure as shit would give the girls enough time to run.

"Good job, girls. I have to get off the phone but make sure you do what I asked." "We will," they promised. I'd buy them a pony as long as they listened to me. I hung up, checking my phone to see where York was. "Fuck."

"Hello." "Fuck, York! There are intrud⁠—" There was a crash and audible grunt. Fuck, fuck. I glared at the slow as fuck elevator. The ding didn’t come fast enough. I bounced on the balls of my feet as the doors slid open. York's door was wide open, something he'd never do. The sound of a fight hit my ears, and I was in the penthouse in seconds. I grabbed the first thing I found. The golf club wasn't my favorite weapon of choice, but anything would suffice.

"Paul," York grunted.

"Vitale scum," one of them spat at me. “Now you’re helping the feds? Should have known.”

"York." I dragged myself to my feet, and moved forward, ready to have my boss back in my arms. I needed to check him over but every step I moved forward, he took a few back. "Who are you?" York asked. Fear, disgust, anger, all of them flashed over York’s face. He knows.

"Paul," York growled. His fists balled up at his sides. “Who the fuck are you?

"York, I need you to listen to me," I started calmly. He shook his head, stubborn as always. "Answer me. Who are you?"

"We don't have time for this. The girls are in your room, we have to get out of here. This was them not taking you seriously. This didn't work, they will just keep coming."

"York, please," I panted. I got off of him and took a few steps back. If he felt my boner while I was on top of him, he said nothing about it. York was back up, hands raised, and ready for a fight. “I’m not going to fight you.” "Who are you?"

hair. "I can explain everything later. We have to go." "No, now."

"York, I get your sense of justice but they aren't going to sit around and wait for you to get the whole truth from me. We have to get out of here. Think about the girls."

"I swear on my life, I'm not your enemy right now. I want you and the girls to be safe.

"You three mean everything to me."

"The bodies." The breath I wanted to let out was still caught in the back of my throat. "I'll have everything taken care of."

"Where are we going?" York asked.

A fucking Vitale. "Please stop staring at me," Paul said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"York, stop," he said. "Daddy, what's wrong?" Nyra whispered.