Nailed Down: The Complete Series

by Bliss, Chelle

  Despite my worry and the shock of everything I’d just discovered, seeing the skinny kid I’d always known grown into a massive man built like a stone wall knocked me out of my foul mood.

  “Fuck me, bean pole,” I greeted, unable to keep from smiling at the kid’s sheer size. “What kind of grapes they got at that vineyard?”

  “Fat ones,” he said, offering me his hand to shake.

  I took it, slapping his shoulder once before looking over to his brothers, the small laughter at seeing my cousin leaving me when I spotted the warehouse.

  She was in there.

  Alone with that fucker.

  I could kill him with my bare hands.

  “We confirmed he’s in there?” I asked, eager to pounce, to do something that got me my hands around Shane’s fucking neck.

  “He’s there. Ralphie checked. Besides, that asshole Liam used this place to cook meth,” Dante said, dropping his eyes to stare at his fingers. It was shit he’d been involved in that had landed Dario in prison, and I guessed Liam was the source of that shit.

  “You steal his money?” I asked him, moving a hand to the back of my little cousin’s neck. Not to threaten him so much as to make sure he gave me an honest answer. “That why my woman got tied up in this shit?”

  “I took his money, true enough. But hell, man, that was five years ago.” He was man enough to look at me, eyes clear, expression sorry. His size didn’t worry me. He could be seven feet tall and weigh the same as a Volkswagen. To me, he was still my punk little cousin. Dante frowned, I guessed not liking the look I shot his way. “But from what I’ve heard, it ain’t about the money anymore.” He flashed his phone at me, his thumb scrolling over a series of text messages. “This dumbass is complaining about being disrespected in front of a bunch of kids and your girl. I think he wants you to think he can’t be handled like that, and from what he’s been telling people, he wants the girl. He’s so full of himself because he knows we’re coming.”

  Smoke shook his head. I caught the movement in my peripheral, but Dante missed his slipup. It was instinctual, me squeezing his neck, just a small correction I needed to impart. “That’s no girl,” I told him, voice low but calm. “That is a woman.”

  He winced, moving away from my grip. “Got it. She’s a woman. Man, I didn’t…”

  “I told you,” Smoke said, staring at his little brother in the rearview, “it’s gonna take more than pruning vines and weeding plants to make up for the shitty mess you made.” He nodded to me, and I moved my hand off the kid’s neck. “We have two men on the roof across from the warehouse. Ralphie is about to check in.”

  The Suburban went silent, except for the vibration of Dante’s phone, until my own phone chirped, the movement of the alert pulsating in my pocket. I pulled it out, sliding open the message alert. I saw Angelo’s name, his text making the breath freeze somewhere in the center of my chest.

  Gotta be yours, boss. Got your mouth. Your cheeks. Looks just like Cara did when she was little. ’Cept the eyes.

  He wasn’t wrong. Those were Sammy’s eyes staring back at me from the picture Angelo had sent along. Older pictures of her as a baby, of Sammy holding an infant that looked exactly like me. The little girl—Elizabetta, Patrick had called her—and the priest at her birthday party, years and years of memories all on display in a purple and green room decorated with dragons and unicorns, filled with books and pictures along bookshelves and tables.

  I’d missed this that night at Sammy’s. I’d been so focused on her, on being with her, that I hadn’t bothered to look around and see what her life looked like.

  The life she led with my daughter.

  Our daughter.

  “Heads up. We got eyes on them,” Smoke said, killing the engine. “That dumb asshole only has six guards with him. Three in back, three in front. Let’s get it.”

  * * *

  The street was quiet, with only a few stragglers walking away from the warehouse. None of them were paying attention to the six men trailing down the sidewalk and weaving around the parked cars to get to the side entrances. My cousins and I moved to the front, while Sal and Matteo took the rear.

  I couldn’t shake the worry and the anger I felt. They spread inside me like a virus. I wasn’t sure where it came from. Equal parts of me wanted to scream at Sammy. I wanted her to hurt as badly as I did. I wanted to see her cry and wail. Some sick part thought she deserved this shit laid at her feet right now for keeping me from my child.

  I pushed that stupidity away, knowing the anger had no place in my brain. Not when I needed to be on guard. Not when Liam fucking Shane deserved all my rage.

  If he hurt her, I swear to Christ…

  “I got four guys on each side,” Smoke said, pulling my attention from the bullshit in my head. He impressed me with how prepared he came with little notice. “What’s that face?” We hunched down near the entrance, guns drawn and cocked, waiting on Ralphie’s signal.

  “You’re not exactly in the family, and you’re locked and ready to go like this? Took me a few hours to get my crew together when that shit went down with Cara and Kiel.”

  “You gotta streamline, cousin,” Smoke said, winking at me. “Keep a small but effective crew.” His smile lowered when I only nodded, too distracted to give more than a passing notice of his joke. Smoke was smart and probably more perceptive than anybody I knew. My bet was that he got what this did to me, not knowing where Sammy was or what Liam had done to her. But he couldn’t know what was going on in my head. “We’ll get her,” he said, nudging my shoulder. When I glanced at him, nodding, my cousin gripped my arm, crouching in front of me. He stared hard, removing anything but sincerity from his expression. “We got you, man, and we got her. Don’t doubt that.”

  “I know.” He watched me, likely wanting to make sure I understood him, then we both looked up, staring in the direction of the whistle that came from the roof across the street.

  “Movement inside,” Smoke said, nodding for his brothers and his crew to take position.

  My heart thumped hard. I shut my eyes, pulling in a few quick breaths, muttering quicker prayers that she was safe, that I could get to her before Liam did anything she couldn’t walk away from…that the asshole would know a special kind of pain for even thinking he could take her in the first place. And then…we moved.

  There was an incline at the front of the building, and we made our way up it. Smoke and Dario were behind me, Dante pulling up the rear. To my left, I heard the low rumble of bodies falling as my cousin’s and my men tussled with whoever was Liam’s lookout, and then we emerged through the large loading dock at the front.

  Two massive doors were unlocked and open, and over the racket of fighting and the smattering of gunshots, I made out a woman’s shout. My heartbeat hammered faster than a hummingbird’s wings now, and I edged farther ahead of my cousins as we came to a stack of crates and the screaming voice I heard turned into words. Sammy was fighting, and the sound of it twisted something inside me.

  “No, you son of a bitch, get off me!” Her voice carried over the noise around us, echoing in the nearly empty warehouse. There was the thunder of running feet and falling bodies, the still zipping buzz of bullets flying, and then, a loud, crashing thud. Her yell lifted, piercingly loud, but I couldn’t make out much in the darkness.

  “Stupid, no-good…”

  “Sammy?” I shouted, stopping short when she came around the largest stack of crates, carrying a crowbar in her right hand.

  “Johnny?” She stopped short, eyes fluttering as she stood near a broken window above, a sliver of moonlight coming down to illuminate the small section of warehouse like light from a prism. Mouth dropping open, like she wasn’t sure she was really seeing me, Sammy shot her gaze to my face, then around to my cousins, before she lowered her shoulders, dropped the metal with a clatter against the floor, and ran straight for me. “Oh God!”

  “It’s okay…” I soothed, curling her against my chest. “I’ve got you,
bella…” My anger at her evaporated, and the beat of my heart quickened for a different reason.

  I’d never felt such relief.

  I’d never been so grateful.

  A quick glance at my cousins and a nod in the direction Sammy had come from, and Dante and Dario ran farther into the warehouse as Smoke stepped back, pulling out his phone to tell our men to stand down.

  “Johnny…I’m sorry,” she said, fingers curling into my shirt. “About how I left…how I acted…I was mad…and hurt…”

  “Shh, hush, cuore mia. It doesn’t matter.” I kissed the top of her head, inhaling that rich, sweet scent before I angled her face up, my blood burning when I spotted the cut along her jaw and the bruise under her eye.

  “It’s fine,” she told me, pulling my fingers away from her bruises. “He kept waving that stupid crowbar at me, and when he heard your men, he got all excited. Kept bragging about how he was going to take you out.” She shook her head, wiping the moisture and grime from her forehead. “He was distracted, so I grabbed the bar and knocked him across the back of the head.” Sammy turned, frowning. “I know it’s not…very Christian of me to say, but…”

  “It’s okay to want that bastard to bleed,” I told her, unable to keep from holding her close. When Dante and Dario came back into sight, Sammy stiffened in my arms, her eyes widening as my cousins shrugged, coming back without Liam.

  “But he was right there,” she promised, looking between us.

  “It’s okay, bella,” I promised her. She took the kiss I gave her, relaxing a little. “We’ll find him.” To my cousins, I nodded when they left the warehouse. “Let’s go,” I told Sammy, leading her toward the door, but she stopped me, tugging on my hand.

  “Johnny…there’s something…”

  “I know there is.” She frowned, her expression tensing when I dropped her hand. “There’s a lot we’ve got to say.” I glanced up, just noticing the burned scent in the warehouse, some remnant of the lab Liam had held here. My temper rose, knowing Sammy had been inside this place, inhaling all this shit. I wanted her out of there. “But not here,” I told her, nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let me take you home.”

  21

  Johnny

  Mina’s smile dropped when I ushered Sammy through the door.

  “Ah!” the housekeeper cried, instantly glaring at me. “What did you do?”

  “Wasn’t me.” The old woman took Sammy from me with little argument and led her to my master bath. “That cut on her jaw,” I said, tugging off my jacket and shoes as Mina settled a fussing Sammy on the closed toilet. “Stitches, you think?”

  “I’m fine,” Sammy argued, her voice kind but insistent. “Mina, please…”

  “Samantha Nicola, what would your uncle say if he knew I didn’t patch you up right?”

  I glanced at Sammy when she looked up, deciding it was pointless to correct my housekeeper about the priest’s relationship to Sammy. No one knew, from what she’d told me on the ride back to my apartment. And as far as she was concerned, no one would find out anytime soon. “If he wants to keep me as his dirty secret, then let him,” she’d said, curled up against the car door, rubbing her temples like it would help keep the raging headache she complained about at bay.

  “He’s in the hospital,” Sammy admitted, making Mina pause to look at her.

  “Oh no.” Mina moved to sit on the edge of the tub, a cotton swab dipped in alcohol held between her fingers. “Is he going to be…”

  “It was a heart attack. I don’t know how he is.” That came out sharply, and Sammy must have heard the tone in her own voice or seen Mina’s quick reaction. She sat up, grabbing the woman’s hand, holding it in between both of hers. “I’m so tired, Mina, and my head is pounding. I’ll wash my face, and maybe you can call Dr. Michaels for me in an hour to see about those stitches. In the meantime, would you mind saying a prayer for my uncle?”

  Mina’s expression shifted, and the change was immediate—the quick surprise moving into a smile as she patted Sammy’s cheek and kissed her forehead. “Of course, piccola. Of course I will. You clean up and rest. Johnny will get you an aspirin from his medicine cabinet and let you have his bed, I’m sure.” She shot me a glance, smiling when I nodded. “I’ll be back with the doctor soon.”

  I helped Mina stand, taking the cotton swabs from her, and let her kiss my cheek before she left the room. Sammy watched her, watched how she doted on me. It was normal for me to have the woman look after me and the people I cared for. Sammy hadn’t had that, I realized.

  Still, that was no excuse.

  “She’s a good woman,” Sammy said, watching me as I pulled out two aspirin from the bottle and filled a glass with tap water. She took the pills, nodding a thanks, and continued to follow my movements as I took a clean washcloth from the cabinet and ran the hot water. I gave her a smile, then pointed to the free space on the counter, reaching for the antibiotic wash as she sat next to the sink. “She’s always taken good care of you. Just like Marcella.”

  “They’ve both been loyal,” I agreed, squeezing out the rag and setting it on the side of the faucet. Marcella had been Mina’s mother and had raised both Cara and me after our mother’s death. My father had always kept a devoted staff who were more family than employees.

  “Loyalty is important,” Sammy said, looking up at me when I stood between her legs, my hands lathered with soap, ready to rub away the grime from her face.

  Shifting my gaze to hers, I arched my eyebrows, knowing she understood me, knowing we weren’t just talking about good employees now. “Loyalty is everything.”

  She leaned into my touch, holding her hair back from her face, eyes closing, her full, tempting lips plump, ready for me to take. I wouldn’t. Not when I didn’t know what would come out of them. Lies? Half-truths? Bullshit she made up to keep me in the dark? All the things she thought I wanted to hear?

  “Here,” I said, grabbing the rag, deciding she could handle rinsing her own face clean as I walked into my room before I touched her, before I got so angry my shouts rattled the windows. “You’ll probably want a bath.” She opened her mouth, but I didn’t let her speak, moving quickly to turn on the tap for the tub, jerking open the cabinet to grab fresh towels for her before I left, closing the door behind me.

  Twenty minutes later, Sammy emerged from my bathroom sporting my robe, smelling of my soap with her hair wet and her skin scrubbed clean.

  “Johnny?” she called, holding her cell between her fingers as she found me in an armchair next to my window.

  I didn’t look at her, letting my own cell sit loosely in my hand as I scrolled through the images Angelo had sent me, one beautiful picture of my daughter after another. Each one chiseling away another piece of my heart.

  “Your uncle did a shitty thing to you,” I said, not looking at her as she sat on the end of my bed. My attention was focused on that beautiful face, those green eyes like her mother’s and a face so like the one I’d seen in the mirror every day of my life. “All those years, lying to you, keeping you in the dark.”

  “It…it was a…shitty thing to do.”

  “So, why then, Samantha, haven’t you told me, nine years later, about my daughter?” I looked at her, noticed how she opened her mouth, her surprise turning her cheeks pink before I tossed my phone to her.

  She caught it, attention shooting to the screen, thumb moving through each picture before she lowered her hand, resting the phone in her lap. It took her several seconds before she seemed able to look at me. And when she did, her eyes had darkened and were shining.

  “Johnny…”

  “Where is she?”

  Her breathing quickened, like she wasn’t sure if answering me would seal a fate she wanted. But then Sammy nodded, her shoulders lowering, and the tears fell. “In Ellenville at summer camp. She’s safe. We made sure…she’s safe.”

  “You weren’t tonight.”

  “She is,” Sammy said, wiping her hand across her cheek. “Uncle…Pat.
He had the place investigated.” When I frowned, Sammy shrugged as though I should know better than to wonder how a priest could have access to that kind of security. “He takes Betta’s safety seriously. More so than anyone else’s.”

  “Because she’s yours?”

  She sighed, her mouth tightening. “Because she’s yours, Johnny.”

  I wanted her to shut up.

  I wanted her to apologize.

  I wanted to hate her.

  I wanted to kiss her.

  I wanted her to disappear.

  I wanted her to tell me every detail of my child’s life.

  I wanted her to beg for my forgiveness.

  I wanted to bury myself inside her.

  I wanted her to never touch me again.

  Instead, I dropped my head, my throat locking up, face falling into my hands as I tried to hide myself from her, from the world, from the jumble of thoughts I had at that very moment.

  Sammy came to me slowly. Her movements quiet, her touch soundless. I only felt the brush of her fingers against my leg as she knelt in front of me, then her palms on my thighs as she moved closer.

  “Sammy…” I warned, not knowing what I wanted from her.

  Her scent came to me like a whisper until the only thing I knew was her arms around me and her mouth against my forehead.

  “It was…the only way,” she said, and I hated the truth in each word. “Your family…the life you live, Johnny… I couldn’t…” She went quiet when I touched her, grabbing her arm to pull her closer.

  Sammy knew something I’d never been able to admit out loud. The same reason I couldn’t marry her when I was a kid, no matter how much I may have wanted to. The reason I was willing to destroy her at eighteen. My family could get her killed. It had gotten two innocent boys killed, and they weren’t even related to my family. It had taken years for my father to recover from that guilt and to begin the hard task of working toward legitimacy, something I was still trying to do. Hell, Sammy could have died tonight. We’d been lucky. Shane was an idiot. He had zero clout. But Vinnie hadn’t been like Liam Shane. He’d nearly killed my sister and brother-in-law.