Love and Lead

by June, CoraLee

  Mr. Moretti looked at the mirror and gave us a pointed stare, indicating that our free time was over. We had people listening in again.

  “All I’m saying is the woman you’re looking for is either dead or is pretending to be dead. You won’t find her, and if you do, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

  “One more question,” I said as Callum motioned to stand. He was done with this, but I still needed more clarity. “You said you used to sleep together, but it’s more than that. Who is she?”

  “Italian Royalty. The last remaining descendant of the Russo family. She could own us all if she wanted.”

  “Well, she’s not the last,” I said, eyeing Callum while debating whether to tell him about Alessandro or not. “She had a son.”

  Mr. Moretti’s eyes went wide with shock and a hint of fear. “For his sake, I hope Santobello never finds him. He loved Gavriel’s mother, but he wanted to own Lilly Russo. Having her son in his ranks would bring out the worst in him.”

  And with that ominous statement, the door to the interrogation room blew open. It clanged against the wall, making me jump in surprise. Mr. Moretti didn't seem shocked by the intrusion. If anything, he slipped into an even calmer demeanor. He leaned back in his seat and pushed his legs forward, a relaxed move that could only be done by a Moretti in such circumstances.

  The warden walked in, practically steaming with hot fury rolling off of his tense muscles. "Did you try staging a breakout, Moretti?" he asked while eyeing Callum. "The footage from the last ten minutes has been erased. What's going on in here?"

  Lorenzo Moretti stood and put his wrists together as if prepared for the handcuffs to be placed around them. He winked at me, a gesture that felt cool and sinister all at once. Then he turned his attention back to the warden before speaking. "People try breaking out all the time. And this building is old. They keep slashing your funding, don't they? I'm not surprised your shit doesn't work. And I think we both know I have lawyers talented enough to shave off some years of my sentence if you dare try to accuse me. I'm done talking."

  A guard that was standing behind the warden came forward and put the cuffs on Mr. Moretti before guiding him out of the room. The warden then looked at us and kept opening and closing his mouth as if he was trying to decide what to say. "I'll be on the phone with your superiors within the hour. Something isn't right here, and I'm going to find out what."

  Callum smiled a bit before nodding his head. "Good luck. The last man that interrupted this investigation lost his job."

  Callum then grabbed my hand; appropriateness be damned. He guided me down the hall, and we waited at the gates for a guard to open them.

  I tried to keep my breathing even as shouts in the distance echoed across the tiled floors. I wasn't sure how any of this added up. And even more so, I was frustrated that we still didn't know where we could find Lilly. She was the missing link for the evidence needed to bring down Santobello. Why was she hiding? If she was one of the original families—the heir to an entire crime fortune—what made her decide to leave?

  Chapter Twenty

  Hopelessness was a daunting sort of emotion. You could feel it in your chest, rising up your throat like bile that just wouldn’t stay down.

  I was angry that Lorenzo Moretti didn’t have more information. Frustrated by this elusive Lilly person with evidence to lock Santobello up for life. Of all that, the sadness I felt when I thought of Gavriel was the hardest to swallow. I knew he was hurt. I knew his childhood wasn’t easy. But it was fucked up.

  Once we were outside the prison, Callum hailed a cab, and we slid into the backseat. I leaned my head against the window, and Callum shifted so that he was in the center, pressing his body against me, trying to give me a little comfort. I looped my fingers through his as he told the taxi driver where to drop us off. We weren't stupid enough to go straight to the hotel, and I knew we had about a ten block walk to do still.

  "What are we going to do?" I asked Callum while looking at him with my eyes wide. Mr. Mortetti giving us information about Lilly was our only hope. Now we had nothing but more questions. Callum grabbed my knee and pushed down. I hadn’t even realized that I was bouncing it on the floor of the cab.

  "I guess we reach out to Nix?" Callum eyed the taxi driver who was looking at us with distrust. "Maybe we put word out that we're looking for her?" Lorenzo’s warning about Lilly’s lethal tendencies stuck out in my mind. She was dangerous, an heir to one of the original families.

  I didn’t respond. How could we reach out to Nix? He wasn’t responding to any of my emails. We weren’t even sure that he was seeing them.

  The taxicab came to a stop at a red light. It was the middle of the day, and there was lots of traffic parked around us. Although it was still cold outside, the heat radiating from Callum’s body kept me warm.

  When the light turned green, I stared at the passing buildings with confusion. I was unfamiliar with the area, but I wondered if we were headed in the right direction. It wasn't uncommon for taxi drivers to take the long way around to squeeze money out of unsuspecting tourists. But my gut was telling me that something was off.

  “That is, if we can even get ahold of Nix," I replied distractedly. He either got a new burner phone, or he was going entirely off the grid. I refused to allow any alternative reasons to cross my mind. I would know if anything had happened to him. I could feel Pheonix in my soul. I knew in my gut that he was okay, but I hated that I couldn't reach out when I needed him. I also hated that I didn't know how he was. Nix was my person, and not having him to talk to or lean on was making me anxious.

  Once again, I checked our surroundings, noticing that we were driving further and further away from the address that Callum had given him. Something wasn’t right, and as if realizing this at the same time as I was, Callum spoke. "Hey man, where are you taking us?" He suddenly went on full alert, leaning over me to check the street we were on.

  "Shortcut," the man replied in a curt tone. We then turned right, down an alley. Dark, towering buildings blocked some of the sunlight from above. Trash cans littered each side, and I was wondering how the car was going to fit between the two walls of brick.

  The driver's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Something wasn't right. "I know for damn sure this isn’t a shortcut. Let us out right now."

  The man kept driving, shaking his head no which made his greasy hair shift. I reached for the door handle and bit back a scream when I realized the child locks were on. We were going slow enough that I could roll out of the moving car if necessary, but I couldn't get the door opened.

  Callum unbuckled and was preparing to reach through the small opening in the glass partition separating the driver from us when the car finally came to a stop. I reached for the handle again, wondering if I could kick the window out and slip through it.

  "I'm sorry," the driver said in a low voice. He looked at us in the rearview mirror, and I saw within the brown specks of his irises that he did have sympathy. But it wasn't enough. This man just brought us to our death.

  Moments later, the passenger side door of the cab was yanked open, and a man wearing a mask pulled me from the backseat. I turned to look at Callum, reaching my hands out for him when I saw another man pistol whip him, effectively knocking him out.

  Callum slumped in the backseat of the cab, and I tried to let out a bloodcurdling scream, praying that someone—anyone—could hear us and help. But the man holding me placed his hand over my mouth, cutting me off. I bit down on his finger so hard that it drew blood, then began kicking and flailing my limbs, fighting for my life.

  Santobello had found us. I wiggled, desperately trying to move, but it was no use. I was losing energy fast, and I couldn't help but think of Ryker and our fighting lessons. He would be disappointed. Would he even know what had happened to us? I tried to cry out for Callum once more as the man's blood filled my mouth. He yanked back, and I spit in the dirt as a woman walked up to the driver side of the taxi with a wad of cash
.

  "Take him to the Bellevue Hotel. I suggest you drop him off. His friends will be pretty pissed off." The driver grabbed the cash from the woman's hand and sped off, barreling down the alleyway with Callum still in the backseat.

  I was out of breath, but still I fought my way out of this man's grip. I refused to be beaten. I refused to die. The woman jerked her attention towards me, smiling at the grunting man that struggled to keep me still.

  "Henry, you look like you’re struggling a bit,” she cooed while looking us up and down. She then directed her attention to me. “You're a fighter." Her voice was like velvet.

  She stepped closer to me, and the smell of cigarette smoke filled my nose. I couldn't see her face because she was wearing a hat that covered her eyes. But her lips? They were a shade of deep purple and framed blindingly white, straight teeth. "I like when they fight." She then lifted her hand and backhanded me. She must've had something around her knuckles because the blunt force of her hit immediately knocked me out.

  The world didn't go black, though. I thought that's what you were supposed to see when you passed out. Instead, it went red. Bright, bright red.

  Twenty-One

  Blaise

  I was starting to think that violence was addictive. Here I was, twice in one week, my knuckles were coated with another man's blood. It felt a little too good, winding back and cracking his nose with my fist. His eyes were both black and swollen shut. I doubted he could see us.

  We each took our frustrations out about not knowing where Sunshine was on his face. At first, I didn’t believe that Sunshine was really gone. When Callum showed up with a big knot on the side of his head and a vague license plate number for a taxi, I laughed in disbelief. It wasn’t a normal reaction, but humor and charm were always my crutch, and in times of crisis, we lean on what we know best.

  But to get her back, we’d have to stop doing what we were used to. The world wasn't really that cruel, was it? How could she go missing again and just when we got her back?

  "I won't ask you again, where is she?" I growled. I was growing tired from punching him so much. Callum was lost in his own thoughts but still aware enough to warn me that if I kept going, the battered man in front of me wouldn't be conscious enough to tell us anything of use. But it was addicting.

  I could see the road to hell clearly. It started with well-meaning intentions—it always did.

  "I won't tell you. You might as well kill me," the man garbled, choking a bit. It was difficult to understand him through the blood pooling in his mouth. He spit at the ground, and a tooth coated in crimson spit hit the concrete floor. We’d set up shop at a dock house that Gavriel owned. It was risky, going to one of his buildings, but we didn't really have much of a choice.

  "Oh, you're gonna tell us," Gavriel growled. He had gotten a few swings in, too. His bruised and bloodied knuckles were evidence enough of that. He tired quickly though. But his wrath gave him the necessary energy to push through the pain.

  "Or what?" the man growled. He had a tattoo the size of my fist wrapped around his neck, a nose ring—or he had a nose ring—I ripped it out a while ago. His hair was greasy and a fake shade of yellow. He was big, but at this point, the majority of his body was broken.

  I smiled, a cruel unfamiliar smile. I considered all my options. I thought about what bones would hurt the most to break. I could rip off an ear. Stab him in the gut. But I wanted him to be conscious, so I grabbed his middle finger and bent it back.

  His screams were loud and pained, but still I pushed, pressing on his middle knuckle to snap it in half. There was a loud crack, and his bone was splintering through the skin. Yeah, motherfucker. That’s what.

  "Or I'll go to Ivy," Gavriel replied, cutting through the man’s screams. He was looking down at his phone, and once again, I thanked God that we were able to get ahold of Nix. It took an hour to actually get ahold of him. Then two additional hours for him to give us any information of use. Nix was short with us though, and I got the impression that it wasn’t safe for him to be helping us.

  Too bad I had tunnel vision where Sunshine was concerned. I liked being her safe place to land when the world was too dark, but I liked having her alive even more. And since she wasn’t here to see this scary side of me, I felt free to let it loose.

  “You know Ivy, don’t you?” I asked. If the bastard was fazed by us saying his daughter's name, he didn't show it. Ryker, who was leaning against the wall and chewing on the end of a pen was watching the scene unfold. He scoffed.

  "Certainly a piece of shit like you at least cares for his daughter?" Ryker asked, his low voice a lethal growl. We were all on edge, there was nothing we wouldn't do to get Sunshine back. We just needed to know where she was first. Displeasure burned under my skin, it flowed through my brain, leaking out of my trembling fingers. It twisted the anxiety and worry into something tangible, something that wanted to kill this man.

  "Ivy is safe," the man growled, his voice bleeding with mock confidence. But I noticed how he lingered on her name, a hint of doubt making me wonder. This was what I was good at. Not violence. Charm. Manipulation. I took a deep breath, inhaling the rust-smelling room while taking in each pathetic piece of him.

  "She really is a lovely looking girl. Did she get her bright blue eyes from you or from her mother?" I asked. I made sure to keep my tone light, but he understood the threat in my choice of words. "It's her senior year, right? I bet she's looking at prom dresses right now. Probably gonna look really good on a lucky guy’s arm."

  He started straining against his restraints, whimpering like the weak little bitch he was when his broken bones wouldn't cooperate. "You don't even really know her, do you? You seem like a shady guy. I bet her mother hasn't let you see her for ages. Armed robbery. Aggravated assault," I said, ticking off his faults. I noticed how his breathing increased with each blow to his ego. He didn’t care about much, but this was a sensitive topic. I was twisting the knife at the spots in his life that hurt. We wanted him to talk.

  "You may not care about yourself, but there's at least a small part of you that cares about your flesh and blood. And since you can see how much we love blood,” I said while taking my thumb and pressing it on his broken nose, making him scream, “I suggest you tell us where Sunshine is right now, or I will blow her pretty little brains out. It would be such a waste—especially since she just got accepted to Columbia."

  I knew the moment that he'd given up. Even though his face was swollen and bloodied and bruised, I still saw the millimeter downturn to his lips, the only evidence that a frown had touched his busted face. "Please don't do this," he said. It was the first pleading we'd gotten out of him since arriving.

  I looked around the room, giving Gavriel a mental thumbs-up for thinking to find anyone he loved. I guess if any of us were to put ourselves in his shoes, our weakness would be Sunshine.

  "It doesn't have to be like this. We don't bluff. Tell us where she is," I demanded. Behind me, Callum was leaning closer, listening to every detail.

  The man let out a shaky exhale, more blood pooled from his mouth and dripped onto the floor. I got up in his face to catch the words that were whispered from his chest. "Lilly likes to fuck with her prey. She’s like a cat. I bet she has your girl at one of Moretti’s properties already. And if you want to see her again, you better hurry the fuck up and get her."

  I spun around to stare at Gavriel, a frown on my face as I considered what this meant. Lilly had her? Santobello was hot on our trail, as were his assassins. Could we honestly risk going to his properties? This was a shitty situation all around—but at least I had the answers I wanted.

  "You sure you can't give me anything a little more…specific?" I asked him. The man's chest barely moved, a silent chuckle bouncing in his throat. "Lilly didn't tell me exactly where they were going. You have me because she wanted you to have me. If you don’t kill me, she’ll use me then get someone else to do it. I told you what she wanted you to know. And you should just assume
from here on out that she's always going to be fifteen steps ahead of you."

  A part of me hated knowing that Lilly wanted us to capture this guy. I also hated having an enemy we didn't understand. That was supposed to be my superpower. I could read a room, predict a person’s actions. At least Santobello had a motive and a face. We knew nothing about this Lilly person; did we open the door to a whole new round of problems?

  "Well, I'm glad we’re on the same page," I said before grabbing the glock that was strapped to my waist and aiming it at his skull. I knew how to shoot a gun. I knew the consequences of what happened at the end of that barrel. I knew that being a Bullet required certain disgusting, inhumane things.

  He wasn't the first man I'd ever killed, but his life was the first that I enjoyed ending. I pulled the trigger and watched his brain explode into a thousand pieces across the basement floor before holstering my gun and turning to look at an impressed Gavriel.

  "It's rare that you participate in these sorts of things, Blaise. You're usually not one for violence."

  I didn't dignify his statement with a response. He knew as well as I did why I was more than willing to dive into this little bloodbath. I’d do anything for Sunshine.

  “You heard him,” Callum growled. “She’s at one of your properties. I need a list of every safe house you have in the city.”

  Gavriel grabbed the pen from Ryker’s mouth and started writing on a receipt he had found in his pocket. “Here’s a list of the locations people know about. And here are a couple that no one but us knows about.” I pulled the burner phone from my pocket and took a picture before looking at them.

  “Let’s split up, we’ll cover more ground. Be fast. Be safe. Bring her home.”

  I didn’t bother waiting to see if they had anymore opinions about how to proceed. I was a man on a mission. I’d lost her once, but I’d find her again.