He shakes his head, his own grin showing me a glimpse of his pearly whites. “Fuck, you’re as batshit as the Henchman.”
“Who?” My brow scrunches as I sit back, laying the Glock on my lap.
“Your husband. You two may make it in this union, after all.”
“The Henchman? You’ve given Maximillian a nickname? I’ve called him Joker’s henchman in my head, but I didn’t think it was a real thing, just a whispered rumor.”
He shrugs, eyeing the gun before reaching for it. I let him take it. I’m not here to kill him, as long as he doesn’t kidnap and torture me as well. “He’s Joker’s right-hand mate, the Henchman. Thought everyone knew of it.”
I look away from him, staring out the window once more. My heart rate is still going a million miles a moment, and I feel a little sick to my stomach, but I survived. I knew Max was bad, cruel even, but legit the Henchman? That sounds so cryptic. And cool.
I’mma buy some mirrors just to
put ‘em on the ceiling, sowhen I wake up,
I see the realist motherfucker breathing.
– MGK
“Who the bloody hell was it? Are they dead? They’ll pay.” I pepper the questions as soon as Tyson answers his mobile. He’d texted briefly, updating me on his and Ismerlda’s ride to the flat. Someone has lost their ever-loving mind, coming after a member of Joker’s crew and my wife. Not only is she linked to me, but her father is at the Table of the Five Families. Although there aren’t that many families left to fill those spots, many outsiders don’t know that just yet.
It’s still surreal to call her my wife…It just happened and yet there’s already trouble for her. Fuck. She’ll hate me for sure. I should’ve known something would go down. Bloody fucking arseholes threatening someone they think is close to me. They’ll die for this, the entire lot of them behind this mess.
“I’m not sure, mate. The fuckstick came at us, ruined my Vanquish. We’re fine, but the car’s a proper mess. No fixing it. May as well scrap the metal,” he grumbles, put off about the damn vehicle.
“I couldn’t be fucked if the car made it or not. I’m talking vengeance, bloke, so cough up the details. That’s my bird they came after.” It’s a good thing this is happening over the phone. If I had to deal with his moping in person, I may end up hitting him, and pissing Joker right the fuck off. He’s my mate, but he’s protective over us all, doesn’t enjoy fighting amongst his crew.
“I don’t know if they’re dead. The woman blasted them, and I put the pedal to the floor to get her the fuck out of there. I didn’t want your new wife to get hurt more so than she already is.”
“Bollocks, what a fucking mess. What happened to her exactly? How did she get a gun? Tell me everything,” I order and attempt to hold in my rage as he lays it all out for me. I have a proper lesson in store for the tosser who’s responsible. He must be a special type of stupid.
Tyson does as I ask and I find myself turning to Thaddaeus, uncertain on what I should think. She bloody well shot the bugger who’d chased them down. What kind of woman did I marry? I knew she was stubborn from the first time I met her, then she threw me for a loop when she took the warehouse and torture in stride…but now, I find out from Tyson that they were chased down as well. Instead of curling up on the floorboard, she’d taken his gun and shot at the other vehicle. I’ve been underestimating her the entire time she’s been in my life.
I fill Thaddaeus in on what went down, hoping he’ll offer up his insight without me having to request it. “I’ve married a G, mate,” I mutter, my voice filled with a touch of awe. “Should I be checking my bollocks? Has she come to take them from me as well?”
He snickers. “Only you, Max, would end up with a woman as lethal and take charge as you. This will make an entertaining marriage, that I don’t doubt for a second.”
Cage grunts, giving me shit. “How will this work in the bedroom? Does she make you suck her cock?”
“Oh sod off.” I shoot him the finger and settle my attention back on my best mate.
T’s quiet, thoughtful as he gauges my mood over everything. Sammi Morelli lay at our feet, his blood a dark, messy puddle around his body. Should’ve known the wanker would be weak in the end. So much for the Morelli Capo being untouchable. He was nothing but a disgrace to the name.
Dante Vendetti and his brother followed Sammi back to his safe house and we showed up shortly after. The Vendetti dog didn’t stick around to watch Joker carve his uncle up, just asked we let him know when the man stopped breathing so we could move forward with the takeover plans. The only family left at the table is Ismerlda’s, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to steer them away from killing her parents before I’m ready to pull that trigger. Those Vendettis are impatient tossers.
One day it’ll be the Chicago Syndicate, the crew, stacked up against New York. I’ll be biding my time until that bloodbath takes place. We’ll need it to build up Joker’s following. The Vendetti Empire’s a formidable opponent, one I expect won’t make war easy on us, though I suppose it never is.
Thaddaeus eventually speaks, as Cage and I glare at one another. It’s typical, we stare each other down and test the limits. However, we have each other’s backs when it counts and never show any push and pull when we’re around outsiders. “Perhaps she’s the right type of woman to stick it out with you, Max. You’re cold, a bit chillier than the average mobster. You’ve always been that way towards others, including the women I’ve seen you around. Ismerlda’s extremely independent.”
I take in his words, weighing them over. He continues, “She won’t expect a typical relationship because she’s accustomed to the syndicate lifestyle. She’s confident in herself, in her looks and abilities. She won’t seek out any type of affirmation from you, and she’ll tell you what she wants. You don’t intimidate her as you’ve done with the women in the past. The warehouse incident with Roberto proves as much.”
Dillion whistles, commenting, “She sounds pretty fucking perfect. Not to mention she’s gorgeous to boot. Maybe I should’ve signed up to marry her instead.”
My glower shoots to him, forgetting about Cage. “You can sod the fuck off too, bloke.” I’ll slice out his fucking intestines and choke him with them.
He chuckles and T shoots a look in his direction, silently telling him to shut the hell up. The last thing these arses want to see is me snap on one of them. Sure, they’re tough in their own sense, but my body count doesn’t lie. I kick at Morelli’s shoe, jolting his lifeless leg. “What’s the plan on this one? We could take the prick downtown, string him up to leave a message.”
Thaddaeus’ face transforms as his wide Joker smile makes a rare appearance. He tips his head back, a sinister laugh leaving him that’s creepy enough to give a bloke goose bumps. “Yes. Holy Name Cathedral, let’s send a loud message to the city. I want underground, syndicate, and anyone else who knows their history be made aware that this means there’s a new boss in charge. The Morelli name means Mafia, that sentiment remains with me heading it up.”
Dillion nods. “I like it. Not only does it provide a loud message to the city, but it serves as a warning and reminder to the Vendettis of the Five Year War. They’re educated. They’ll catch the significance.”
“Shame it’s not St. Valentine’s,” Cage mutters.
These Americans and their bloody history. I was thinking of simply stringing Sammi Morelli up on a traffic light or something of the sort. Leave it to this crew to take it to another level.
I pop my head out of the safe house, gaining Andre’s attention. “Take the dead Capo’s body to Holy Name Cathedral.” His eyes widen, obviously catching on with the meaning. I gesture to one of Cage’s fellows. “Use Gino’s car. Have him ride along and take another set of blokes with you. If the coppers or any other pricks catch you, they need to see this is Mafia business and keep their ugly mugs out of it.”
“I’ll handle it,” he says and calls for Gino’s help. Sammi’s not a small chap. It’ll take the both of
them to get him into Gino’s boot. I watch as they wrap up the body in a tarp Gino had then carry the body outside. They load Sammi into the car’s boot and watch as Dillion hunts down a can of petrol. He and Thaddaeus have a habit of torching things when they’re done with them. Makes it easier for cleanup and getting rid of evidence.
The lot of us step outside, and in no time the house is encompassed in a brilliant blaze. I mention, “I’ll let Dante know it’s done. I’m headed to my flat to possibly kill Tyson. Depends how much of an arse he is when I arrive.”
The blokes chuckle. They don’t realize I’m bloody serious. If Tyson’s laid a single finger on my wife, I’ll murder him without a second thought. I have no remorse for pricks who cross me, and hearing how my new wife was nearly run off the road, kidnapped, killed, or who knows what…it has me eager to dole out my own sort of hearty consequences.
I come to discover the wreck and such was all but a bloody distraction meant for our crew, by the man chasing down Tyson and Ismerlda. Sammi Morelli had caught wind he was being hunted. He set up various incidents before my wedding in an attempt to distract each of us in case we were the ones on the hunt. Sammi was a goddamn fool, believing he could throw us off his tail when there’s so much on the line. Unlike him, we make sure the women associated with us in our lives are protected, whether we’re around them or not. His half-arsed attempt to throw us off backfired on him. The women were all safe, surrounded by security, and in the end, we got Sammi’s arse.
I grip the guilty tosser’s shirt, glowering down at the man who nearly injured Ismerlda. “I’m glad my wife shot your brother. I’ll relish knowing she got her revenge weeks ago without realizing as much. Me, however, I’m not quite sated without a proper session of consequences. You’re in luck. I happen to be the judge and executioner tonight.”
I nod to Andre, impatiently watching as he secures a thick rope to the prick’s feet. The package boasts about being able to hold at least four of these pudgy fuckers without snapping. We’re going to test the theory with one chap and go from there. Andre ties the other end of the rope to a steel piece attached to the roof. Once everything is in place how I want it, I walk the arsehole backwards.
Glee fills my gaze with each of his stumbles, a bug trapped in my web. I want to make certain he hurts for what he’s done. No one touches Ismerlda. I made the threat crystal clear once I’d agreed to marry her. She’s my wife; it means she’s off-limits from anyone except me. We get to the edge of the roof, the man’s face screwing up as he uselessly begs me for his life.
“The rumors of me are true, you know. You should’ve taken them seriously. There’s a reason why this city fears me. Fears Joker’s crew. Now, I have to make an example of you, and what better way to settle this than a method I’m privy to. I once read about this technique for extracting information, and knew it was one I’d highly enjoy. Alas, we’ll put the theory to test.”
“P-please. We can figure something out, I swear it!” he pleads with beady, begging eyes that stir no emotions inside me, only the drive to collect retaliation and steal his soul in the process.
I lean in, sinking my teeth into his big nose. I bite down, ripping flesh from his face. He screams as I spit the skin, blood, and meat from my mouth, and let out a deranged cackle. His blood coats my chin, mussing up my suit. While I don’t much fancy getting dirty, this is a special case. I wear the gore proudly, knowing I’m taking my pound of flesh for Ismerlda’s pain and fear from the wreck. My precious wife didn’t deserve their torment, although she managed to handle herself quite well. I’m proud she’s mine.
“You daft fuckers will learn what happens when you jeopardize my wife’s safety. It’s a direct threat to me,” I declare with a menacing scowl twisting my aristocratic features, and give the prick a hefty shove. “I take those threats seriously.”
His eyes widen, and his arms flail as he falls backwards into nothingness. He shrieks in panic, but that soon morphs into agonizing pain as the rope’s slack ends and it jerks his frame to a halt. His muscles pull from their sockets as his lower legs bear the brunt of his paunchy weight. He’s sobbing, hanging in limbo at my every whim. A cruel sense of pleasure curls in my chest, more so this time than usual.
“All right then,” I call loudly with a lighter note. “Have you learned your lesson, or do you need a bit more reflection? I’m open to suggestions.”
“Yes!” he squeals between his bitchy sobs. “I promise! Never again. Please let me go! I’m so sorry, Mr. Macintosh, to you and the Mr. Joker.”
“Right, making wishes come true is what I do,” I mock in a gallant tone and nod to Andre again.
He dumps loads of petrol on the rope. I lean close enough, flicking a lighter on. It ignites immediately, burning through the line holding the tosser hanging from the roof. As we head for the lift, I relish in the screams of a man falling to his death stories below.
He’s right about one thing: he’ll never cross me or Ismerlda ever again.
I dip my head with a nod of gratitude toward Andre as I exit the car and head on up to my flat, remembering the night of our wedding. I’d gotten here as soon as possible to face Tyson and collect pertinent details from Ismerlda. Once I’d heard everything come from the both of them, I was on a new bloody mission. I had to find the men responsible. I wouldn’t stop until I knew who they were and that they wouldn’t return.
I didn’t stop until Andre and the crew had come up with a name of the man I needed to hunt down. It’d taken two weeks of torture and keeping our ears to the ground to find out exactly who was responsible for ramming Tyson’s car. The fact it was on mine and Ismerlda’s wedding day seemed to make it more difficult, considering several of our own were in attendance. Not many were on the streets to know what went down that day and offer up any valuable information.
Tyson attempted to take part in my reprisal but that didn’t last. He’d gotten a call from one of the curators he works with and abandoned ship to check out the merchandise. One thing Chicago has plenty of is women for sale. The city has a tendency of swallowing lost and lonely, beautiful souls up to sacrifice them to powerfully rich, sinful men. What can I say, we’ve all got our vices.
I’m expecting to find Ismerlda on the sofa with a proper cuppa, perhaps even reading a book. She strikes me as the type to read late at night. Probably some trashy smut novel with a fella like me. I’ve missed two weeks of time I should’ve gotten to spend with getting to know her body. Her injuries and my search kept us apart, but no more.
I’m disappointed to discover her not in the spot I’d been imagining her in. I’d sort of built up this fantasy of her in my mind, where she’d be in silky knickers all hot and bothered waiting for me to return, ready to shag. Exhaling, a bit of the tension I’d held onto for most of the day finally leaves my body now that I’m home and away from prying eyes. Today was a lot. It turned out to be a highly productive day; however, it was still taxing.
I remove my mussed clothing, tossing it in the hamper. I can’t stop myself from watching her sleep while I do so. She looks at peace. My chest fills with an odd sensation, one I’m not used to experiencing. I have this thought running through my mind, whispering that I want to be the reason she’s able to sleep so well after everything. I head for the shower. It’ll be another night of jerking my shaft, because I won’t disturb her when she’s a serene sight for sore eyes.
Tomorrow, however, there’s no excuse. I’ve sought my retribution for the wreck, had my pound of flesh as payment, and we’ve captured and killed Sammi Morelli. Tomorrow, I fuck my wife, then I’ll kill her father.
We need to sit on the rim of the well of
darkness and fish for fallen light with patience.
– Pablo Neruda
I haven’t seen Max much over the past two weeks. He’s been busy and I know part of that is because he was adamant on finding whoever had come after me on our wedding day. I couldn’t be mad at my new husband for wanting to protect me. In fact, it had the opposite effe
ct on me. I thought I could erect more boundaries after our vows, but that night set everything spinning in motion. I may’ve been calm in the moment, and I know I’m a strong female, but I was shook up inside. I needed comfort, I was scared…and I had to come to terms that it’s perfectly okay to feel that way. I’m human and I’m living this life the best way I know how. It just so happens I wanted the sense of security to come from my husband, and he provided me with exactly what I needed.
Shocking, I know, but he’s been patient and even kind at times. He hasn’t been his normal tormenting self towards me, but rather, making sure I’m all right. Having a cocky Max is one thing, but when he’s caring? It’s another monster to deal with entirely. I wanted to be surrounded by him as much as possible. It’s strange, going from thinking you possibly despise someone to constantly craving their presence.
“Positively brilliant,” he murmurs, taking me in from head to toe.
I won’t try and deny it; I did this on purpose. He just so happened to be brushing his teeth when I conveniently decided I needed to take a shower. I left my nighty in the bedroom, on the floor. As for undergarments, I prefer to sleep naked and have barely tolerated the short nighties. I trail my finger along his bare back, taking in how his delicious muscles flex with the touch. He’s not overly beefy or anything, but there’s strength in what he does possess.
His brow rises, watching me in the mirror as he rinses his toothbrush clean. I’ve caught his attention and thoroughly distracted him. Something so simple shouldn’t look sexy, yet he manages to make me want to stick that damn brush in my mouth and suck. He sets the toothbrush in his drawer, never breaking his stare. I’m stark naked, ample breasts and eager pussy on full view for him in the mirror.
“I’m dirty, thought I’d get wet.” I shrug, my breasts jiggling with the move. I drop my gaze, raking it along his front that’s enticingly reflected back at me in the mirror.
Mad Max (Chicago Crew) Page 12