My Mafia Boss: Sweat

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My Mafia Boss: Sweat Page 5

by Tasha Fawkes


  “That’s done and over with. We’re okay.”

  “I’m telling you, Allie, that you don’t owe Marcus anything. He’s the one that got you…and your dad…and me to a certain degree, dragged down into this mess.” She still spoke quietly, but the words were laced with deep concern. I was startled by not only the vehemence in her voice but her expression of disappointment as she slumped in her chair. She shook her head.

  “But it’s over now,” I protested softly. “Marcus made a deal with Tarasov, and the Outfit and the Russians have agreed to a truce.”

  Selena stiffened, eyes wide as she stared at me in dismay. “Are you listening to yourself? You’re actually defending Marcus and his actions?” She shook her head as she rubbed her brow, as if to ward off a headache. She pressed a fist to her lips and took a couple of deep breaths before she continued. “And what happens when one of them inevitably breaks this so-called truce? Honor among thieves and all that?”

  “I—”

  She held up a hand. “This will never end, this ongoing cycle of violence. This is Marcus’s life.” Tears gleamed in her eyes. “But it’s not yours. It doesn’t have to be yours!”

  “Selena, I—”

  “And second, now we’re, meaning you and me, being approached by the ATF, and if the ATF agency is sniffing around, you can bet your ass that the FBI is too. This is serious shit, Allie, the kind of shit that can send you away to prison for a long, long time.”

  This was too much, too much information, and I tried to process it, but…

  “I’m not sure what—”

  She grabbed my hand, her eyes pleading with me. “As your best friend, I’m telling you, it would be in your best interest to at least meet with the woman.”

  I frowned. “Are you serious?”

  “As loathe as I am to say this, even suggest it, I need you to realize that I’ve gotten mixed up with this too. We’re best friends, and you can bet that the ATF, the FBI, and any other alphabet agency also knows it.” She sighed, her hand trembling as she reached for her coffee cup, then set it back down on the table without taking a sip. “I’m scared, Allie. I don’t want to go to jail. I don’t suppose you do, either. Meet with her.”

  Meet with an ATF agent? Who might be working her case in conjunction with the FBI?

  My mouth felt dry, my stomach hollow, and the pastry I just ate now caused havoc in my stomach. I reached for my coffee, my hand trembling as I took a deep breath to calm myself.

  What the hell? Selena was scared, and to be honest, I was too. I had not been expecting this, and I wasn’t prepared for it. And no, I didn’t want to put any of us in danger. Selena shouldn’t be involved in any of this, neither should my dad. I didn’t want any trouble with the Feds, either.

  “How long can Marcus keep protecting you?” Selena asked, leaning over the table again. “How can he possibly watch you twenty-four hours a day? And even if he did or could, is this how you want to live? My god, just walking here, I felt eyes on us.”

  I offered a small, humorless smile. “Marcus has someone watching me at all times.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And I repeat…you want to live like that?”

  How long could Marcus keep protecting me? How many people were going to get hurt, or even worse, die, because of this relationship between us?

  “Well?”

  I looked up from my plate, my stomach in knots as I gazed into the eyes of my best friend. “Well…what?”

  “Will you meet with her?”

  I didn’t know what to do. If I met with her, would I be betraying Marcus? Would I be helping put him in jail? At the same time, I had to think of my dad and Selena. And myself.

  When would they be dragged into this as fully and completely as I had been? My god, Marcus had already moved my dad to a new apartment and had people watching him too. It made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to live in fear.

  “Allie, just see what she has to say, okay?”

  I sighed and finally nodded. “When?”

  Selena pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at me. “Actually, she’s waiting down the street at that corner auto shop. She can be here in a minute.”

  My heart skipped a beat as I stared at my friend. I wasn’t angry with her. She was scared. I didn’t blame her one bit. I was scared, torn, and more than a little confused. Finally, I nodded again, thinking that things couldn’t get any worse.

  I was wrong.

  An hour later, Selena and I were headed back to the penthouse. I had met with ATF Agent Felicia Warner. She wasn’t at all what I expected. She looked like a soccer mom, actually. Medium height and clearly fit, she had short brown hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders. A nondescript but pleasant face. She had entered the shop, and after ordering a cup of coffee for herself, she sat down at a neighboring table, out of sight of the windows.

  After a short introduction, she got right to the point, speaking low.

  “We’ve been after the Philly Outfit for a long time, Allie, and due to recent events, we’ve been watching you too.”

  My heart skipped a beat, and a cold chill raced through me at her words. The thought of going to federal prison scare the living daylights out of me. She offered me a small, comforting smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Up until now, you haven’t done anything criminal, but I am going to offer you a friendly warning. If you choose not to cooperate, I’m afraid you’ll go down with your boyfriend, Marcus Ryan, and the rest of the Philly Outfit as an accomplice.”

  She said it so bluntly, so simply, that it took me a moment to grasp the import of her words. I turned to Selena, feeling nausea rise in my throat. Her eyes were wide with fear as she stared at me, her face deathly pale.

  “This isn’t your world, Allie,” Felicia continued. “I know your past, your history. I know you haven’t known Marcus Ryan for long, but believe me, you don’t belong in this world. And yet, here you are, caught up in a real shit storm.”

  I couldn’t believe this. Still, I wasn’t ready to let go of my attachment or loyalty to Marcus. “What—”

  “Let me tell you why I’m here,” Felicia interrupted. “If you help us, if you decide to help us, we can give you and your father a fresh start. And yes, I know that your father is sick. I can also tell you that we can get him into a cutting-edge cancer trial that might give him an extra couple of years, but this is a one-time-only offer, and you only have a short time to decide what side you want to play on.”

  Sides? I didn’t want to choose sides.

  Was this the way life would be from now on? Hiding from horrible people and being in fear for either Marcus or my own life? Worrying about the safety of my friends and my dad. Worrying about law enforcement officials who were willing to exchange thousands of dollars of life-saving treatments for my assistance?

  Marcus had promised the same. Help for my dad.

  Working up enough spit to even ask a question was challenging, but I managed. “How long do I have to decide?”

  “Well, I had hoped you’d make a decision now, but I suppose I can understand your confusion. I know you’re in love with Marcus Ryan, Allie, but consider this. You’re barely twenty years old. Is this really the kind of life you see yourself living for ten, twenty, or even fifty more years? Because that’s what you’re facing here.”

  Her expression was hard, but her eyes were filled with compassion.

  She tapped her fingers on the table, pausing until I looked directly at her. “If and when Marcus goes down, and he will, you’ll go down with him, because legally, you can be charged, if not as an accomplice, with obstruction of justice, knowledge aforethought, and a few other things.” She paused, clearly waiting for all that to sink in. “Not to mention you’ll have a record, which certainly wouldn’t look good for someone trying to build a security consultancy agency, am I right?

  I could barely swallow as I glanced at Selena, who nodded urgently at me. Once more, I glanced at Felicia. “So, how long do I ha
ve to make a decision?”

  Her mouth tightened in disappointment. “I’ll give you one week and not one minute more.”

  Six

  Marcus

  I stared at the faces looking back at me as I went over the final arrangements for the pickup and transport of Tarasov’s first shipment of guns and drugs with the Outfit leadership at Club HQ. With each face I studied, I had to wonder. Are you the one? Are you the traitor?

  Niall seemed pleased with my “getting on board” with the alliance. For the first time, I wondered if Niall was having money problems. Was that why he pushed so hard? Our cut of Tarasov’s shipments would be substantial, no doubt about it, but everyone had to have standards, didn’t they?

  Then again, as Niall was so fond of reminding me, this was what we did. We facilitated. We might not be standing on the corner selling the drugs or the guns, but that was just whitewashing our roles. Was I the only one who didn’t like this deal? Was I the only one worried about the guns Tarasov was dealing, and where they came from or where they were going? Didn’t it matter to them that these weapons might be military-grade and shipped out to Middle Eastern countries where they’d be used against our boys? I didn’t like to think that I might be facilitating terrorists, either homegrown or foreign, but was I being naïve? Unrealistic?

  I felt much the same about drugs. I didn’t use them, never had, and couldn’t understand people who did. Nevertheless, I knew there was a market for them, and there was money in it, which seemed to attract not only Niall, but the other board members. I had put my foot down with the human sex trafficking, but I still felt that it probably didn’t matter, at least in Tarasov’s eyes. He had me running transport and shipments for two of his most lucrative avenues—guns and drugs—and I had to wonder why.

  Why did he suddenly need the Outfit to help him with his distribution? Loath as I was to admit it, I’d never paid much attention to the Russians and their dealings as long as they didn’t encroach on our territory or cause problems for us.

  So, why now? Why did he need our help and support for the transportation of his shipments? I didn’t like it, but I guessed I didn’t have to. If this is what I had to do to keep Allie safe and guarantee a hands-off policy with Tarasov, I would.

  Still, I didn’t and never would trust the Russian. As I gazed at the faces around me, I had to wonder just how far their loyalty to me or to the Outfit or even to their own peers would go. Had I been mistaken all along? Was I only a ‘paper’ leader of this group?

  I didn’t like where my mind traveled. I had grown up among these men. I had been raised in their code, in their organizational structure. Had I convinced myself that these men were honorable and dedicated to Niall, and therefore to me when he’d made me the leader? More doubts crept into my mind. I looked ahead to the possibilities of collateral damage, not only to myself but to my perceptions of these people around me. Of Niall.

  More than once, Niall caught my eye, a small smile of satisfaction on his mouth. I saw the healing cut on his lower lip where I’d punched him and regretted losing my temper. We hadn’t spoken privately since. Nevertheless, tension tightened my shoulders and prompted a headache. As soon as I finished with my spiel regarding the arrangements, I prepared to leave.

  “Marcus, wait a moment. I want to talk to you.”

  I turned to Niall, then to several of my men, gesturing for them to leave. They would meet me outside at my car. I glanced back at Niall, sitting forward now, his hands folded on the table. I said nothing, waiting for him to speak. He didn’t waste any time expressing his opinion.

  “You happy now?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “You moved in all cozy-like with your girl?”

  I said nothing, instantly annoyed. You would think he’d figured it out after I punched him in the mouth for the last comment he’d made about Allie. He relaxed and lifted his hands.

  “Okay, your girl’s off-limits.”

  He eyed me for several moments, contemplating. I waited him out. I knew I would never get an apology from him, but I wanted to know what was on his mind. I wasn’t going to rush it.

  “I sense an, um, difference between us, Marcus, and I’m sad to see it. I just hope you know what you’re doing.” He lifted a hand to halt any interruption. “I’m not criticizing you. I’m just telling you, from one who’s been there and done that, that holding together a relationship in our line of work is challenging at best. It doesn’t always work out well.”

  I didn’t like talking about Allie with him, but I offered a small shrug. “Time will tell.”

  “Yes, it will.” Niall sighed. “I just want you to know, in case you were doubting it, that this is who you are. This is where you belong. You’ve brought the Outfit a long way in the past five years, and I’d hate to see you throw it away.”

  While I sensed a modicum of relief to hear him speak the words, I wasn’t sure how sincere they were. I shook my head. “I don’t intend to throw anything away,” I said softly. “As far as I’m concerned, this entire mess with the Russians wouldn’t even have occurred if you hadn’t encouraged an alliance with them. He kidnapped Allie, Niall, you get that, right? If I hadn’t intervened, he would have sold her into the sex trade. And you think we can trust him?”

  He shrugged, offering a small smile. “Time will tell.”

  He said nothing more, so I turned and left the room, my thoughts and emotions battered and confused as I made my way out of the club and into the parking lot. In moments, several of my men gathered around me, including Ronan.

  I spoke quietly to them. “As long as we stick together, our roles in this won’t be a problem.” Of course, I knew it was bullshit, especially if Tarasov decided to double-cross us, but for now, I had to bank on Tarasov’s greed. There was no doubt that, at some point, he would double-cross me, maybe literally if not figuratively knife me in the back, but it wouldn’t happen just yet. Not today. First, he needed to gain my trust. Something that would never happen, but he didn’t know that.

  My men nodded. I climbed into my car and started the engine as Ronan opened the passenger side door and climbed in. He sat in Donnie’s seat. I stared out the windshield for several moments, my thoughts somber. I wanted to tell him to get out. I wished Donnie were still alive. I’d always been able to confide in Donnie, and I missed his easy smile, his groundedness, and his common sense.

  With a heavy sigh and a muttered curse, I backed out of the parking lot and headed toward the docks to supervise the transport of the first shipment. I had misgivings, of course, and I couldn’t shake the unease spiraling in my gut. It wasn’t just about the shipment. Something was happening. Something was going on, but I couldn’t pinpoint a source.

  Right now, I wasn’t sure where I stood with Niall. I still hadn’t determined the identity of the mole in the organization, and I wondered about the next attempt on my life. Would it come today? Tomorrow? Next month? I knew there would be one.

  Things had changed, but at the moment, everything was such a mess. Donnie dead, Niall’s loyalties toward me questionable, my own thoughts about this alliance with the Russians…to me, it seemed as if everything had changed overnight.

  My instinct told me that I was being set up, but what other choice did I have? If I backed out of this deal, the Outfit might boot me to the curb, my reputation in ruins. Tarasov would find a way to once more get to Allie or her father. I needed to buy some time, but things moved too quickly.

  I wasn’t an impulsive man, most of the time. When it came to business decisions, I liked to explore every angle numerous times. I wanted to continue searching for the traitor who had betrayed me, who had dared to put a hit on me, but I also needed to do so without encouraging the suspicions of the Outfit. For now, that meant pretending to go along with Tarasov and his deal.

  It also meant doing everything I could to keep Allie safe. I didn’t know exactly how it happened, or when, but the only thing that seemed to make sense to me anymor
e was doing what I had to do to protect this young woman who’d changed my world so completely.

  If that made me weak, so be it. When I came right out and admitted it, I realized that my life didn’t count nearly as much as Allie’s did. I did have something to lose. Allie. I realized that I might even love—

  “I don’t trust these Russians.”

  I glanced at Ronan, who was sitting stiff as a statue in his seat while I navigated Philly streets. “I don’t either.”

  “Then why are we doing this?”

  I gripped the steering wheel so hard it was a wonder it didn’t break. “Because, for the time being, my opinion seems to be outnumbered.” I thought about that for several moments. “I want to see how this plays out.”

  “I’m going to speak plainly, Marcus. Do you think the Russians are behind the attempted hits on your life?” When I said nothing, he shifted slightly in his seat so he could look at me, but I kept my eyes on the road as he spoke. “Or do you think that perhaps there’s a traitor in the organization?”

  His question surprised me, and I glanced at him. “What do you think?”

  He gave a small shrug. “I think I’m glad I’m not the leader of the Philly Outfit.”

  Seven

  Allie

  “You want to go back to your apartment…I mean, your penthouse?”

  I turned from staring out the window of the bakery to gaze at Selena. Was she being snarky? She seemed to read my mind and offered a wan smile.

  “I didn’t intend that to come out the way it did.” She laughed softly. “I just…you’re awfully pale.”

  “I feel pale,” I admitted. The Danish sat heavy in my stomach, and my head pounded with tension. I held my hands clasped together in my lap so she wouldn’t see them trembling. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me, not plain old boring Allie Cross. But it had. It was. Since the moment I met Marcus, everything in my life had changed. Some things for the better, some things for the worse.

 

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