The scared women are Allie’s breaking point, and she rushes forward, dodging around Logan. “Oh, my God, help them! TJ, what the fuck are you doing?”
Victor stops Allie from climbing into the truck, but at my unintentional growl, he sets her down gently.
“You are not getting in there right now. It’s not safe until we know what’s going on. Now, how about you don’t get me killed for stopping you, ’kay?” Victor says gruffly.
TJ’s eyes dart from Allie to me, and he clears his throat. “Tony said he needed help with a coyote trip. They’ve got their menfolk north already, working up in the Midwest on cattle ranches and farms. They’re meeting them there.”
Suddenly, Chambers laughs heartily. “Can you believe the fucking choir boy savior complex on this one? Hero for his country soldier shit. Just told him it was a rescue mission and he was right on board. Yes, sir,” he mimics, sloppily saluting, though I know he’s a soldier himself.
It’s an intentional slight.
TJ turns to Chambers, his anger growing before my very eyes, which tells me that Chambers did mislead him. “You’re trafficking them, aren’t you? I fucking asked you that. You lied to me, you son of a bitch.”
I don’t move as TJ launches himself at Chambers, tackling him to the ground and proceeding to pound him into the pavement. It’s not a fair fight, not after what I’ve already done to Chambers, but I don’t interfere as TJ caves in his nose, the crack audible even through the sound of fists meeting flesh. TJ doesn’t stop, landing shot after shot to Tony’s face and body.
“Enough,” Zallow calls out finally, or maybe it’s too soon. Chambers deserves worse than a beatdown for what he was planning to do to these women and children.
When TJ doesn’t stop, he grabs him by the arm and pulls him off. “Goddammit, at ease! He’s still my brother. Get the fuck off, TJ.”
“Uno momento,” Victor says, holding up a finger to the whimpering women before closing the back of the truck. They cry out, but he throws the latch anyway. Allie lays her palm to the door, whispering something I can’t hear.
For now, Zallow faces me squarely, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet spread, trying to look dominant. I’m sure it works for him more often than not, but posturing and feathers are for peacocks. I don’t need some anthropologic dominance posture to be in charge because I actually am.
“Angeline, Silas said Tony was ours to handle. TJ, yours. Agreed?”
I look at the two men sitting on the ground, one beaten and broken and the other only restrained by his training.
I dip my chin once in agreement, but as Victor begins to move to Zallow’s side, I call out, stopping them. “Allie, come here.”
She doesn’t want to leave the truck. I can see it in her eyes, the glitter of tears pooling in the corners. But she obeys without complaint, and I take her hand, holding it tightly. Through my touch, I give her all the strength I can, all the encouragement, and the silent message that she’s been amazing so far. It’s far less than I wish I could give her.
Perhaps this is a mistake. Maybe I should shuffle her off to the car with Logan and hide this from her.
But she wants no secrets.
She wants transparency.
And as painful as it is for both of us, she’ll get it. No matter how ugly. No matter the stains it will leave on her soul.
It’s a fraction of the ones I bear, but she is innocent, more than I ever was, considering the family I grew up in.
Victor raises his gun and Chambers sobers, the realization dawning that he’s in far deeper shit than he thought.
“What . . . wait? Vic! You’re my brother. You can’t do this. Silas won’t—”
Perhaps in his former life, Chambers was a man who could give orders. His file said that he served his country with courage and honor during two tours, one in Iraq, another in Afghanistan. And maybe he’s served Silas courageously afterward, I don’t know. But now he’s at the end of his road, and like most men, he pleads for his life, all notions of honor or toughness forgotten.
Some would look down on him, but I don’t. I’ve seen too many strong men do the same thing and too few truly face it with dignity. Death comes for us all, and when it does . . .
Victor’s voice is stone-cold, devoid of all emotion. “Silas’s orders.”
The words stop Chambers’s pleas, and though he is reluctant, he moves to swing his legs beneath him so that he’s in a kneeling position. I’m surprised, and I tilt my head a little as he looks up at Victor, clearing his throat.
“Tell him . . . tell him thank you for everything he’s done for me. And that I’m sorry for fucking up so badly.”
Though I wish we were not here, not in this position tonight, there is some small amount of honor in the way Chambers faces the consequences for his choices, and I offer him a silent, respectful salute.
Victor nods once and then pulls the trigger.
Allie doesn’t scream, but her knees unhinge, and I catch her as she looks wildly from Chambers’s body to her brother, and finally, to me.
“No,” she whispers pleadingly. “Please, Dominick, no.”
I growl in her ear, forcing her to listen. “He brought this on himself, and he got what he deserved. You do not even want to have a glimpse of the hell those women and children in that truck would have been heartlessly sold into. At his hands, Allie. The world is better, and we are all safer without him.”
She cries, the tears flowing as she sobs silently into her hands, but she nods so I think she heard me. TJ clears his throat, turning to me with as much dignity as he can.
“Just let us go, me and Allie. We’ll go and you’ll never see us again. We won’t say a word. Please.”
I know the last word was a fight for him, and yes, he’ll plead, not for himself but for his sister. There is strength in him, more than men in my line of work often have.
“There’s no need. She’s not going anywhere. She’s mine.”
TJ nods, seemingly understanding that I’m not killing him on the spot. He’s lucky. If he’d been knowingly trafficking those in the truck, I would’ve meted out harsher punishment than even Chambers received. His blood connection to Allie would not have saved him.
I would’ve made it hurt, sent a message to the city about what I allow and what I do not.
But TJ was deceived and thought he was doing something good.
Besides, I was the one who called Zallow and set all this in motion, hooking TJ up with Tony. It was not intended to lead to this, but regardless, I must bear a drop of the onus for beginning this mess with that small action.
Eventually, Zallow breaks the silence of our staredown, pulling out his phone and making a call, most likely to Silas.
“Vic’s driving the truck. It’s a mess. Tony was making a traffic run. Need a cleanup and someone for Vic’s ride.”
“Send Mac,” Victor whines to Robbie. “I don’t want nobody else driving Suzanne.”
Victor turns to me, shrugging. “Suzanne’s my baby. 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner. 325 horsepower, but the clutch is still a bit finicky. Mac’s the only one I trust to get her home without stripping out my gearbox.”
That he can talk about his car when his fallen brother is at his feet tells more about him than I think he realizes. Zallow relays the information and hangs up.
“Okay, it’s covered.”
“Where are you taking the truck? The women and children?” I ask.
Zallow looks to the closed door, haunted as if he can see inside. “We’ve got a place where they’ll be safe, and some connections. No harm will come to them.”
With a mental checklist complete, I turn to Logan, silently telling him that it’s time to go. There will be more to deal with tonight, so much more, but what we can do here is done. Silas’s Eagle Raiders will take care of their own and the victims, so it is best if I am no longer here.
As TJ climbs in the front seat next to Logan, I open the door for Allie, ushering her inside. As she ducks her he
ad, Zallow’s voice makes her freeze. “Hey, Angeline!”
I turn, lifting an eyebrow in question. “Two things. One, Myra says thank you for all the baby shit and told me to invite you to dinner or she’d have my nuts in a vice. So consider yourself invited.”
I smirk at that, knowing that inviting the devil into your home must be hard for him, but he’s more scared of making his woman unhappy than he is of me. It’s oddly sweet. But by his tone, he doesn’t truly want me to come over. Smart man.
“And two. Quit sending shit to my Old Lady, asshole.”
His face and voice remain that lightly threatening growl, which is his normal tone of voice. But a moment later, he breaks into a laughing grin, and though it is maudlin under the circumstances, I smile back and give him an unusual gift. Honesty.
“As you wish. I merely wanted to make their life a little more comfortable. I find your family . . . inspiring.”
He looks taken aback, then remembers himself. “Well, don’t be looking at us as your hashtag-couples goals. We’ve got our own troubles. Read a fucking romance book or something if that’s your kink, Angeline.”
His wave is dismissive, but I can hear the notes in his voice, the pride on his face. He recognizes how special his relationship is, a woman strong enough to withstand the life he leads. The thought burns in my mind, and I turn back to Allie to find her staring at me like she’s never seen me before, like something confusing just clicked in her mind.
The ride to my house is quiet, each of us lost in thought. Even TJ is quiet, perhaps assisted by occasional glances from Logan. I’m analyzing the events of the evening, making a note to call Silas for follow-up on the trafficking victims. I trust him or I wouldn’t have let them take the truck, but a call to ensure they are cared for sends the appropriate message.
I’m focusing on the business side because I’m not sure what’s going on in Allie’s head, and that, quite honestly, terrifies me. I glance down at our joined hands and rub a soothing circle on the back of her hand, hoping she can feel the depth of my feelings in the bare touch.
We pull up to my place, and Logan looks to me for orders. “Head back to the club to check in. Call me with a report.”
He nods, and I help Allie out of the car and lead her to the front door while TJ trails along behind us. As soon as we get inside, it all hits her, and I can see the weariness weighing on her. She slumps, and I hold her close. She buries her head in my chest and I rub her back in calming strokes. She sniffles a bit and then stands tall, still trying to be strong.
“I’m going to go clean up.”
She walks down the hall to the bathroom, and I think she needs this moment alone more than she needs to clean up the few shadows of makeup still on her face.
TJ watches her go too, and as the door closes, he turns to me, his hands down by his sides but the tension coiled in his body telling me he’s more than ready to fight if that’s what it comes to.
“Is this where you try to take me out, tell Allie that I left, and create some cover story about how I died in service?”
It’s not a bad idea. It would solve a lot of my problems, take the devil who tells her to run from me off Allison’s shoulder.
Instead, I chuckle and casually wipe at my ring with my handkerchief. “You said ‘try,’ but if I wanted you dead, you would be already. I have not killed you, nor do I intend to, because it would hurt her. And that is the last thing I want.”
“Why?”
I look into TJ’s eyes, deadly serious. “I love her.”
He huffs a humorless laugh, shaking his head in rejection of my words. “Love her? And this is how you show her?”
I shrug, turning my back to him and walking away. “It’s what she asked for. Transparency. No secrets. Follow me.”
I can feel TJ’s confusion at my apparent disregard for his posture or his words, but after a moment, he follows me into the living room, where he stops, looking around.
“Nice place.”
I don’t say a word as I walk over to my wet bar and hold up a decanter. “Drink?”
He nods, and I pour three tumblers of scotch. Allie comes in, looking freshly scrubbed with her hair piled on top of her head. She has on one of my long-sleeved T-shirts, so big it’s almost a dress on her, and a pair of my gym socks. If her brother weren’t here and things weren’t so questionable, I’d snatch her up and carry her to my bed.
I like her in my space, in my clothes, raw and bare-faced with no walls between us. But looking into her eyes, I can see there is still a wall. It’s not brick. It’s made of the questions, the doubts, the fear she has of me. And I have perhaps this one and only chance to knock it down before the foundations settle and it becomes permanent.
I offer her the crystal tumbler, helping to steady her hand for a moment when she shakes. “Drink, Allison. It’ll settle you.”
She nods and tosses back the scotch like a shot. I take the tumbler, rinsing it out and setting it aside as she sits on the couch. TJ takes the spot next to her, pointedly looking at me, daring me to move him or her.
Unwilling to risk action that could further hurt the situation, I offer TJ his drink before reluctantly taking the chair on the corner of the sofa. Settling down, I take a sip of my own scotch before setting the glass on the coffee table.
Allie pulls her feet up, curling her legs underneath her, and I can’t help but read into the fact that she leans away from TJ and toward me.
“Dominick?”
There is so much in the single word, every emotion rushing through her blood buried in its soft plea. I can’t look away, needing to see her, needing her to see me. Instead, I lean forward, placing my elbows on my splayed knees.
“You said no secrets, Allison. Is that still what you want?”
She bites her lip, and I can see her uncertainty, but this is the biggest crux of her concerns. What I do with her brother might be at the top of her mind, but this is the actual key point. She’ll either accept me as I am or not, but I can’t have her halfway.
She’s better than that. She doesn’t say yes, but I see the choice in her eyes.
I clear my throat and lay it all out for her.
“I am Dominick Angeline, head of the Angeline family, The Boss of East Robinsville. I take my job seriously and do everything in my power to make it a safe place. I work methodically to ensure everyone under my rule is provided for. It’s not a pretty job, and there is often ugliness. But it is a responsibility I’ve been groomed for, a weight I bear by virtue of the last name given to me by my father, a future I hold by sheer force and the will to do what is necessary.”
Allie’s heard all these things before, in snippets and snatches, but for TJ, the whole truth hits him like a juggernaut’s charge, and when I finish, he shakes his head slightly.
“Son of a bitch! You really are a fucking Mob boss? I fucking knew it had to be something like that.”
“No TJ, I’m not a boss. I’m The Boss. At least, around here.”
“This is why you had guards on her and were spying on her,” TJ replies, anger coloring his words as he puts the whole picture together. “Because by being with you, she’s in true danger.”
“Yes and no,” I reply honestly. “Months ago, your sister was an innocent bystander when someone tried to wage war with me. It was dealt with, but there was bloodshed, and I vowed that Allie would never come to harm if I could help it. So the guards are for her safety, protection from those who might wish to do me harm by hurting the one person I care most about.”
I look to Allie, who’s holding her breath. “But yes, some of the surveillance was for me. Because long before you knew it, and forever, you are mine.”
TJ jeers, “I think you believe that sounds sweet or some shit, but it’s creepy as fuck. I took down the cameras from her living room, her kitchen, her bedroom. That’s not love. It’s control. It’s obsession.”
Though he argues, the connection between Allie and me never falters. Her eyes never stray from mine. �
�It is all of those. Love, control, obsession. And insanity. But you enjoy that, don’t you, Allison?”
TJ can sense he’s losing her the same way I can feel her body yearning to come to mine, so he tries a different tact.
“So you had Tony killed? Shot right in the forehead by his own club?”
“No. I merely allowed them to do what they saw fit. Mr. Chambers’s punishment was decided by them and then carried out,” I reply. “He nearly instigated a war between his Eagle Raiders and me tonight, and it was only luck and that you’ve also been on my radar that prevented it, TJ. Do you think he could’ve returned to the fold, having betrayed his President? You know better than that, Specialist Bancroft. Disobeying orders is simply not allowed, not by me and certainly not by Silas. Tony knew that.”
“And what about me? How come I’m not lying dead in a dirty parking lot?”
I sigh, knowing that this might be a decided matter to me, but it’s of paramount importance to him. And through him, Allie.
“As I’ve already told you, firstly, because by hurting you, it would hurt Allie. I would sacrifice anything, anyone, including myself, to prevent that. Though I may not deserve her, my goal is to spend every day for the rest of my life striving to be worthy of her and making her happy. Secondly, your involvement tonight, while your own doing, may have been instigated by my own action.”
“What? The truck was yours?” TJ asks, thinking he’s found a chink in my armor, and I narrow my eyes.
“Absolutely not,” I reply, a hint of anger in my voice. “I do not traffic people. Ever. But your involvement . . . the first ripple in the pond was at my encouragement. That night we first met, you left after dinner, upset. I knew why, and it wasn’t just me. So I reached out to Zallow, asking him to have a drink with a fellow soldier. My desire was to keep you busy, admittedly, to lessen your influence over Allie, but also for you to truly have support in your time of need. It appears that your friendship with Mr. Chambers developed from there. Though I may have thrown the stone, may even be responsible for the first wave, your choices from there were your own.”
Dirty Secrets Page 26