by Ruby Vincent
“A monster.”
I was quiet, taking it in. “I understand why you didn’t come to us. I also understand why your father would tell you killing her was the only option. What I don’t comprehend is the lengths you went through to carry out her murder. Going to Richard, blowing her up, replacing the bomb, planting a trail to frame someone else. Does one pick those skills up in the course of having a normal life?”
“You tell me, Killian. From carnival son to con man to med student to gangster. Did your normal life go off course with the need to survive?”
“You think I’m judging you—”
“You are.”
“I’m trying to trust you!” Crack. “I want to believe you’re telling me the truth!”
She stroked my cheek. “I’ve told you so many lies, I don’t expect you to trust me. Not for a while. But this is me taking the first step to earning it. There is a side of me. A dark side that is capable of just about anything if it protects the people I love.
“That side lets me love you for all that you are, Killian. Carnie. Con man. Med Student. Gangster. It lets me understand Saint. Connect with Brutal. Challenge Mercer. And it’s that side that makes it impossible for me to betray you,” she said, “because I know there is no one else who could hear my story, and hold my hand as they say they understood.
“The Merchants aren’t a gang, love. We’re a band of misfit toys the world doesn’t know what to do with, coming together to set things right.” She glided along my jaw, tracing my lips. “But you’re the man who sees everything. Tell me, Killian. Am I lying?”
I studied every inch of her perfect face. “Did you know Angelo Castillo was Kieran?”
Her brows blew up her forehead. “What? Angelo? Are you sure—”
I drew her in, swallowing her cry of surprise.
Adeline didn’t respond at first, then she jumped on me, knocking us both off the seat. We fell to the last crack in the ice, raining everything I tried so hard not to feel for her.
We made love twice on the opera box floor. Lights flooding the auditorium interrupted the third time. We grabbed our clothes and ran out of there, Adeline letting me drive her to our Leighbridge loft.
I tangled in her hair. “Nice of you to allow the postponement of my beating.”
Giggles got in the way of her kissing a trail down my chest. “Looks like you’ve been punched in the face enough this week. What happened?”
“I covered up Kieran’s first attack. The second had to be faked.”
“Angelo Castillo,” she murmured. “Are you sure it’s him?”
Adeline burrowed into my side, draping me over her. I lifted the cover over our heads.
“We assumed a lot of things. That Kieran was connected to the Kings. That he was staying out of the public eye. That no one knew his true identity and he stepped in when it suited him. But probability and likelihood isn’t fact.
“We never considered that Kieran led the Kings. That he was out there for everyone to fucking see, and his lieutenants knew exactly who he was. They were just waiting for him to fall off the twig.”
“Unbelievable,” she breathed. “He forced your parents into gunrunning. Blackmailed you. Caused Saint’s father’s death in the never-ending search for him. And now Enzo holds all that power in his hands. We’ve already seen what Angelo’s done with it. Lord knows what the cold, efficient moneyman with another forty years on his life expectancy will do.”
“Closer to forty hours,” I said. “We know who he is, and we know where he’ll be tomorrow at noon.”
“You do?”
I spilled everything on the meeting at the club. Did I trust her completely? No. But what I needed was her to tell me something real. The surprise over Angelo was genuine. The tears on her cheeks not forced. But for the first time since she walked into our fire station, I sensed I was speaking to both sides of her.
“How many guys are going with you?” she asked. “Enzo’s tried to kill you once already.” She placed my hand over her bandage. “Almost succeeded.”
“I’m very much looking forward to making him apologize.”
She kissed my jaw. “After you’ve bagged your man, will you bring me home?”
“Yes,” I said against her lips. “You should know, Sinjin broke, stabbed, or destroyed... everything.”
“Did he spare the kitchen?”
“Everything means everything.”
Adeline groaned. “I’m feeling less sorry for you and this beating now.”
“I’ll take my punishment.” I flipped her squealing onto my lap, gripping her hips. “Tomorrow.”
“What would you like now?”
“I trade you equal or higher. Blowjob for blowjob. Orgasm for orgasm.”
“This is my favorite game.”
THE NEXT MORNING, I left Adeline sleeping in a twisted tangle of sheets.
I drove to Harlow, meeting Sinjin and Brutal an hour before Enzo’s meeting. I parked between their cars in the lot, rolling down the window.
“Where’s Mercer?”
“Says he’ll be here,” Sinjin replied. “He wants that ledger as much as the rest of us.”
“It’s a simple in and out. La Roche, Bianchi, and the owner. Pistol, Cain, Ted, Ming, Ryder, and Frankie are on the exits. Once we have him, we’ll put him in the trunk and take him to the cabin.”
Sinjin inclined his head. “What are you planning to do about your friend La Roche?”
“Too much time hanging out with Angelo had a bad influence on him. It tricked him into thinking he has the authority to dole out orders and threats. The original plan was to forge a copy of the ledger and let him play around with it. Now, I’m going to kill him. Like you said, we would’ve eventually.”
I fixed on the deserted club. “Also, I believe I’ve tracked down Redgrave.”
“Believe?” His tone sharpened. “Have you or haven’t you?”
“I have. I’ll pick her up after we’re done here.”
Brutal punched his dash.
“We will pick her up,” Sinjin translated.
“Fine with me.”
We didn’t speak for the next hour—rousing twice for the arrival of our men, and then the arrival of Bianchi and his guys. Ten minutes to twelve, La Roche’s town car turned off the road and parked in the back. Just one man missing.
With three minutes to go, Mercer pulled into the parking lot. He rolled out of the car—mask on and suit pressed—but the bags under his eyes were jumbo jet luggage, and the stench of next-morning tequila wafted out the door. I said nothing other than what he wanted to hear.
“I found Adeline.”
Mercer’s head snapped up.
“She comes home today.”
“Where is she? Did she really steal that money?”
Climbing out, I secured my mask in place. “We don’t have time to get into it. We’re here for the ledger.”
Cloudy eyes cleared. “The ledger,” he confirmed. “Afterward, I’m bringing her home.”
It was risky surveilling the club, or attempting to go inside and check it out beforehand. Enzo had to walk inside with minimal security thinking he was heading into a regular meeting. Still, I did my homework. La Roche sent his bodyguard in, taking pictures of every exit, entrance, corner, and bathroom.
Infinity Nightclub had the main entrance, back doors, and a staircase that led to the second-floor exits. Our guys posted on each—guns ready.
Lorenzo’s new station afforded him a second, Damien Chance, and their two six-foot-tall guards. Enzo brought the three of them to business deals. A deal that would take place in the manager’s office behind the bar. The respectable businessmen they were all pretending to be, they’d be shaking hands over the desk right then as they sat down to talk terms.
“Let’s go,” said Sinjin.
Pistol and Cain pulled open the front doors, running in on our heels as we stormed inside the cavernous space.
Years after Ophelia’s death, finally the reign of Kiera
n would end. And ours would begin.
ADELINE
“It’s this one.”
“That one.”
“This one.”
I spun in a white corridor, panic rising. Half a dozen purple velvet doors on each side. Which was the way out? Who was speaking? Why wouldn’t they stop talking at once?
I ran to the second door on the left. I grabbed the knob.
“Not that one!”
“Yes, that one.”
“It’s the one behind you.”
Spinning, I raced through the opposite door. It shut behind me, and I can’t say why I knew I couldn’t return to the hallway of purple.
The entrance to the alley stretched out before me—narrowing till it shrouded in darkness. Wealthy couples and cars streamed past. They laughed and giggled unaware that tonight was a tragedy. There was nothing to smile about.
A hard shove from behind propelled me into the dark.
I shot awake, adrenaline kicking my heart into my mouth.
My chest heaved. Beads of sweat dotted my skin and soaked the sheets. As the remnants of the dream tried to fade, I latched onto one escaping fragment.
“It can’t be,” I whispered. “Were you really there that night?”
I cast my memory to our almost perfect date, flipping through the drive, dinner, toasting over expensive wine, sharing dessert, strolling arm in arm down the sidewalk. Fighting in the alley. A figure briefly illuminated in the light from the restaurant.
I smacked the bedside table, snatching up Lucky’s phone.
12:10 p.m.
“Shit!”
I never slept this late. The pain meds coupled with sleeping pills Killian gave me when I said there was no chance of me going to bed after hours of fun and gentle sex. He placed the pills on my tongue saying I still needed rest.
“Doctor’s orders.”
It’s gotten fucking plenty of that!
It was already past noon. Killian timed an attack down to the millisecond. They were inside and the odds were slim he’d answer while in the club.
I called him anyway.
Again.
And again.
And five times as I dressed and stumbled to the door.
Killian didn’t answer.
Frantic fingers dialed Gianna.
“Hello? Please. Please, answer!”
“Hey, this is Gianna. I can’t come to the phone right now—”
I hung up and tried again.
“Hey, this is Gianna. I can’t come to the—”
“Ahh!” I screamed.
“—right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you. If I feel like it. Or maybe just text me, weirdo.”
The beep sounded in my ear.
“Gianna, call me the second you get this. It’s an emergency. The guys are walking into a trap!”
CASH
Trash littered the dance floor, awaiting the cleanup crew to rid it of broken plastic cups, earrings missing their pair, and one or two used condoms. Nightclubs were useless, sad places during the day.
Our boots squelched on the sticky floor. I gritted my teeth, moving slower to the bar. Tipped-over beer bottles littered the counter. Sinjin picked one up.
I motioned to the door. La Roche’s photos indicated the one on the left was the one we wanted. The right door led to a room full of kegs.
I eased it open.
Eeeeeee.
The squeaky hinges about trumpeted our entry. But there was no one in the darkened hallway to hear.
At the end of the stretch, light poured from under a door, followed by voices as we drew closer.
Sinjin and I posted up on either side, nodding at Brutal. He raised a polished shoe to kick the door in.
My phone vibrated. I held up a hand, checking to see if it was our men on the doors.
Adeline.
Stuffing it away, I made to tell him to go.
My phone went off again. Then twice. Then three times.
Adeline knew how important this day was. She wouldn’t be calling—
—unless it couldn’t wait.
“Stop,” I hissed as my cell buzzed again. “Something’s wrong. Let’s go.”
The guys retreated without a fight, backing toward the door.
“What about Enzo?” Mercer asked. “The ledger?”
My voice was barely above a whisper. “We’ll pick him up in the open, coming out of the building. Something about this is too—”
We pushed in the squeaking door.
“—convenient,” Sinjin finished.
The men were still filing out of the keg room, forming an armed line between us and the exit—six, seven, eight men long. I drifted to the second floor, and the four with guns propped on the railing, aimed at us.
One answered his phone. “They’re here, boss,” he said clearly. “We’ve got them.”
The door opened behind us.
“Leaving so soon, gentleman?” A low, honeyed baritone bounced off the walls. “Good thing we caught you before you missed the party.”
I faced Lorenzo Bianchi.
Photos didn’t do the man justice. In person, he was taller, thicker, and the curve to his smirk held twice the contempt.
Waves of raven hair swept back from his forehead, and gelled into submission in stereotypical mobster-style. He wore a black suit tailored to slim the paunch around his middle, and his shoes shined brighter than Brutal’s.
“Where is La Roche?” I demanded.
Enzo smiled. “He won’t be joining us.”
Lorenzo Bianchi. Fanatical about appearance both physically and in standing with the Kings. Smart. Patient. Analytical. Hold stronger sway over Richard La Roche than I knew. Bested me.
“The Merchants,” he drawled. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for some time. There’s the question of how you discovered the operations at the Castian, not to mention the location of our casinos. Have you turned one or two of my Kings to feeding you information and, of course, how exactly did Angelo end up floating in the harbor?”
He moved around us, joining his line of men. “All of those questions will be answered—and I do hope you choose the hard way. But first, proper introductions.” The conversational tone vanished. “Take the masks off. Now.”
We weren’t given a chance to do it ourselves. Six guys advanced on us—guns and hands out.
He hooked stinking fingers through the fabric.
Bang!
The King dropped, hand slipping free to smack my raised gun on the way down. Fucking fools should’ve taken that off us before the pieces of cloth.
His death set off a chain of events.
Sinjin smashed the bottle over his guy’s head, following with a swift knife to the throat.
“Kill them!” Enzo roared.
The Kings opened fire. Sinjin’s kill stumbled in front of me, clutching his throat. His body jerked as he was riddled with bullets.
Jumping over the bar top, I landed hard on the rubber mat, pain zinging up the same arm shot and sore from Kieran’s first volley. The guys crowded in next to me, taking cover to return fire.
Either Richard set us up at Kieran/Enzo’s behest, or his corpse was lying in the backroom. Whatever the case, it was done and dusted. What I had to focus on was getting us out of here.
Fifteen Kings. Exits blocked. Poor cover. Unable to leave position. Unable to get back-up here in under ten minutes. Chances of survival:
Three percent probability.
ADELINE
I flipped through the wallet of a guy I lifted off the street. Five crisp tens, more than enough for the taxi to rumble its way to Harlow.
I went through Lucky’s phone, feet jiggling on the carpeted floor. Why wouldn’t this man drive faster?!
“Hello?”
“Hey, is this Lucky’s girlfriend?” A question I asked to five different women.
“Yes.” An answer I received from three of them. “What are you doing with his phone?”
“Is he with you?”
>
“Yes.”
I sat up straight. “He is? I need to talk to him right now.”
“Whatever,” she muttered. “Hey, Lucky. It’s some chick calling from your phone.”
There was a shuffle, then a male voice spoke.
“You owe me a cellphone and three hundred dollars, bitch!”
“I understand tempers are hot after being bashed over the head, but we don’t have time for your problems,” I snapped. “You Merchants aren’t supposed to know each other. I want to hear that you break the rules, Lucky.”
“What?”
“Your bosses are pulling a job at the Infinity club in Harlow. It’s a trap,” I said. “How ever many men they brought with them, I bet it’s not enough. You need to round up all the Merchants you aren’t supposed to know and get there now.”
“How do you know this?” Lucky turned serious in a blink. “What’s the situation?”
“Lorenzo Bianchi. They thought their informant was betraying Bianchi, but Enzo made him betray them. They’re going into what’s supposed to be an empty club to kidnap him. He has the full-force of the Kings at his disposal. If it’s a trap, the situation is bad.”
He cursed. “I know four guys personally. The guy who brought me in, and the real Diego, Colt, and Titan. That’s not nearly fucking enough. Even if they called who they know. We’d need everyone on this.”
“Just get everyone and every weapon you can, and meet me at the club. I’ll take over from there.”
“You?”
“I’ll remember that tone of surprise.”
I hung up.
“Sir, I will give you all the cash in this wallet if you go faster.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stomped the gas, flinging me back in my seat.
Again, I tried Gianna. Again, I tried Killian. Then, I called Mercer, Brutal, and Sinjin one after the other.
No one picked up.
I couldn’t think about what that meant. I just couldn’t. The boys were okay. I didn’t spin my way back into Cash’s good graces to lose them all over again. I did it for the precise reason I couldn’t.
“Love is action, Adeline. It’s sacrificing all that matters because that person matters more.”