The #2 GUY: A SALVATORE SYNDICATE NOVELLA

by Jax Hart

  Her words cut deep. I know I’m a bit of a wild cannon, the guy with the bad jokes, loud laugh, and grubby hands. But I’m loyal to the core. I’m no snitch and I’m good at both the killing and the fucking. I was born with bad ADHD and had a learning disability. Reading gave me a headache. All the letters swam on the page. Forget math. But I had a way with the ladies, my easy nature when I was chilling at the club combined with my beefy hands and muscles never caused one to complain. But then again, Christine was different. She seemed classier than the rest. She’s slim with a delicate nose and dainty hands but underneath all her femininity the woman was a viper. She bit my heart and left her poison to ruin me. Now it’s my turn to make her feel the pain. Turning away from her smug face, I jerk her by the elbow, pushing her up the stairs in front of me. She hesitates at the top step, so I help her along by firmly placing my hand on that ass, pushing her forward.

  “Hey!” She snarls, trying to bat me away.

  “You wanna stay down here in the dark?” I hiss, biting her ear. Her spine stiffens. Her head hangs in sweet defeat. “That’s what I thought.” My husky laugh moves a few silky strands of her hair. She jerks her arm free, blinking madly as her eyes adjust to daylight streaming in through the windows of the main bar room. I can’t help my smirk. Rog is still playing possum, laying on a broken table. Christine’s gasp has me turning my head. Roque’s eyes are cold chips of ice as he points his gun at me. “You’d betray me for her?”

  He’s quite the actor. I force my smirk away, replacing it with my own “game” face. “She’s mine to punish. She used me to get to you.” I point my gun full of blanks right at his chest.

  “And your foolishness almost brought down my crew. You know what this means Johnny, old friend or not—there are no second chances in the mob.”

  Christine’s fingers inch toward a pool stick. Her hate towards Roque radiates from her. “She will pay for her crimes against us.” I vow, meaning every word.

  “I can’t take the chance she’ll seduce you again, John-John. It needs to end here.”

  I move forward, pushing Christine behind me as I fire two blanks at Roque’s chest. He fires back, purposefully aiming a tad wide. The red stain of his fake blood starts spreading across his crisp, white shirt. I know he’s fine, having watched him place the bag of blood under his shirt myself. All that acting he did playing himself in his own story on the big screen really is paying off now. Christine gasps. I yank her past him, out the back and into the truck I had planted there. “I killed my best friend for you. You better be worth it.” Her shocked eyes meet mine as I throw her into the back, zip tying her hands. I climb in front, checking to make sure the child locks are on before peeling out the lot and driving toward the B&B slash spa for some much-needed sweet interrogation of my newfound prize.

  3

  Christine

  I can’t believe he came for me. After all I did. All the lies and betrayal. The thing is, I never thought I’d fall for my mark. That the heat between us would be real. I tried to stop it. Fight the attraction I had for him and I lied to myself every time we touched. I told myself it was for a greater cause—the utter destruction of the Lamatti Crime Family. But all I ended up causing was my own self-destruction. He killed Roque Salvatore for me. Roque frickin’ Salvatore, the world’s most notorious mob boss since Al Capone. I swallow hard. I hated Salvatore just as much as I hated Johnny. My parents were killed in the crossfire of a mob hit gone bad in 1998. I’ll never forget the pain of losing them. My brother and I swore vengeance but not by being vigilantes. We wanted to join the FBI; a perfect way to avenge our parents. The Lamatti’s are trained killers who spit on the law. When I joined the bureau, I only had one mission in mind: Find and destroy the Lamatti’s and any crime family connected to them.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To bed? Where else?” His eyes meet mine in the rearview. Despite the self-loathing bubbling to the surface, I feel the heat between my thighs and the sweet pain of my budding nipples. Johnny’s cock is a gift to women, and he knows how to work it like no one else. I bite my lip knowing I’ll never be able to resist him if he gets me naked. I’ll need to escape or finish what I vowed to do—kill his Brooklyn ass.

  “Why did you kill Roque… for me?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. It was for me. With him out of the way, I can take over.” My chin jerks up. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. Your brother has already buried you. If you ask me—he cheaped out. I would’ve at least picked a better-quality headstone.

  My foot lifts, kicking the back of his seat. “YOU BASTARD!” It gives me a small bit of satisfaction as his body slams forward causing his seat belt to tighten.

  “Save the fight for later my feral kitten. I can’t wait to feel you scratch the hell outta my back.”

  My fists curl into my palms. Never. Never will I ever, let him feel the satisfaction of me clawing his back out in ecstasy again. I sit back, take a few deep breathes, trying to get centered so I can rely on my training to get myself out of this. I will escape him no matter what it takes. No matter what it costs. I need to find out just where the heck I am if I’m going to make that happen.

  Despite the shitty situation I’m in, the landscape is breathtaking. I have no idea where I am. When I was grabbed, I was drugged and hooded. I woke up in that dank cellar not knowing if it was hours or days later. But the bulky, silver fox of a man was good to me. By the smells and sounds coming from above, it didn’t take long for me to realize I was beneath a restaurant or bar. He never hid his face, proclaiming I’d never be free, so it didn’t matter. However, he refused to give his name. My mouth grows dry as my eyes drift up the tall pines to the soft sky. Sky. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. The big brute of a man who was my jailer had kind eyes despite his hard body. He made sure I was clean, well fed and even supplied me with an endless supply of books. Sometimes even a magazine. Oh my god, scruffy! The man found a stray behind the restaurant and let me keep it. The cat came and went as it pleased but its litter box was in the cellar with me. The tiny cat kept me sane. Curled up by my feet at night and helped me feel less alone in the dark. I wet my lips, “The man. The man who was hiding me… did you kill him, too?”

  “So, what if I did?” Johnny’s voice was hard. Cold. I bit back my cry of anguish. He would pay. There was no other way out for either of us.

  4

  Johnny

  My knuckles are white on the wheel. I heard the affection in her voice when she asked about Roger. Saw the softness in her eyes. Jealousy pierced through my gut hot and fast. If she caught feelings for the Silver Fox during her captivity, I was gonna stomp the shit outta that burning flame. Rog is gonna go ape at how much I trashed the place and then there’s the matter of cleaning up all that fake blood Roque spilled. A grin splits across my face despite the jealousy running like a herd of wild buffalo through my veins.

  I turn the wheel harder than necessary into the drive of the B&B I had vacated for my reunion with my “lost love.” My balls tighten as I imagine her naked in the Roman Spa bathhouse that Roque had built last year. There’s every type of scented oil, floating candles in the shape of lotuses and I made sure every type of kinky sex toy would be on hand for what I have planned for my little federal agent.

  “Where are we anyway? It’s beautiful,” she murmurs as I open the back door and haul her out. She closes her eyes, breathing in deeply as the smell of fallen leaves and curling woodsmoke are on the tongue of the wind. I don’t think. I don’t hesitate as I press her up against the car and lower my mouth. I capture her lips, invading on her gasp of surprise. But she won’t surrender. She tastes of all my heartbreak. It wraps around my chest, squeezing tight. I release her, spinning around. I don’t want her to witness the look on my face. Because I just realized I’m her prisoner. I’m the free man walking around in chains. I motion for her to follow me inside. I stride lazily as if I didn’t give a fuck. I half expected her to bolt. At least try to escape. She didn’
t move for a few beats, but finally I hear her tiny footsteps crunch on the leaves covering the drive. I stop short at the stairs. I must have caught her off guard. From the corner of my eye, a round object comes at me. I dodge but not fast enough. The boulder she managed to pick up from the garden gives a good whack to my thick skull, but it wasn’t a direct hit.

  “Fuck, Christine. Really? If you knock me out how you gonna ride my train later?”

  “Do you even know what a train is, Johnny?” She rolls her eyes.

  I lick my lips. “Babe. You’re wounding me.” I splay my hands over my heart. Hiding the real pain, she causes behind humor. That’s right. I’m Johnny the wise guy not Johnny the heartbroken guy. “Who says I wouldn’t invite more people into our bedroom?”

  “Our bedroom?” She raises a brow. “As if you could handle anyone else after me?”

  Her taunt has me hot under the collar. But damn if I don’t want to take her down a peg or two. “I’ve handled plenty after you. After all, I did think you were dead.” Her face pales at my direct hit. Good. Let her think my cock didn’t ache for her ghost every damn day and night for years.

  She pushes by me, purposefully knocking into my side. My eyes move down to her ass, skinnier than before but still curvy. My hands start to itch, thinking of all the ways I’m gonna worship it. “Don’t even think about running, girl. You and I—we have a lot of reconciliation to do. Starting with you apologizing to my cock for almost getting us both whacked and buried in chains on the bottom of the Hudson. If my family had their way, that’s where we’d both be right now.

  “I’m not coming near your cock, Johnny. It was all for the sting. Nothing more.”

  “Baby, when I’m done with you… every piece of you is gonna sting. Even your soul.” I made my vow in a low voice, but she saw it in my eyes, the very need that came from my pain to do it. My words ring true and she knows it. For the very first time, I saw her fear. I had her. She’s still mine despite her best attempts to pretend otherwise.

  She twists open the backdoor to the inn, stepping through. My cell dings with a text from Roque:

  Savage Douche: Rog is pissed AF. You really sold it to your girl. Don’t let her break you again or I will do what the code requires.

  Me: Tell him to calm his man tits. His insurance will cover it. Say it was a bear looking for food.

  Savage Douche: Change my caller ID for me in your phone.

  Me: What’s yours for me? Savage Douche: #2?

  Me: Worry about your own women. I hear the boys at Chloe’s school are sniffing around.

  Savage Douche: They’re all dead. It’ll be an all-girls school…

  “Who’s that? Your clean-up crew? Are you the #1 now that you offed Roque?”

  I roll my shoulder blades then pop my neck. “I like the sound of that. The #1 guy.” I grab her by the hips, pulling her close to me. Her hands tighten on my forearms. Her body language is all wrong, all tense as her upper back tries to arch away from my body. But I’ve thirsted for her too long. Dreamed of holding this body that I thought was long gone from this Earth. My hands move down to her hips. On a grunt I pull them flush against mine. My head lowers.

  “Baby, I’ve died for you. I don’t care if you fake this kiss. Just give me one. One like we used to share before we go to war. Please?” My words soften her, I see it in her eyes. But then I close mine as my lips descend to take what I missed the most. Our moans are in harmony as our tongues touch. In seconds I have her pushed against the wall. My cock is heavy, jutting up and proud. I nudge it between her legs. “Fuck, yeah,” I moan into our kiss as she rides the head of my cock through our clothes. Why the fuck did I stay away for so long? One look at her and I knew I could never kill the love of my life. But that doesn’t mean in this moment I’m not pissed as all fuck.

  It’s instinct. Simple lust but I feel her tits harden just from the pressure of my chest on hers. She isn’t faking shit. She might hate me because of my sins… what I do as a job but who I am as a man—my heart is different with her. Hell, everything is always different with her. And I hate her for it. Hate her for making me vulnerable. Hate her for betraying my heart when she’s the only one I ever gave it to. My hands move to the back of her head, fingers twist and twine in her thick hair. It takes everything I have to keep the tears choking my throat at bay. That’s right. I’m a big, strong ox of a man with a low average IQ but I am not afraid to cry when I feel shit. And this woman—makes me feel everything. My heart beats hard, hers is as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. I rip my mouth away already feeling the pain of her running through me again. It burns but I can’t stop myself from wanting all her fire. Anger bubbles hot to the surface. We could’ve had it all. Instead she chose betrayal. My two fists break through the drywall on either side of her head showering her with specks of broken pieces. Broken Pieces. Seems like we both are made of nothing but that.

  Her hands push against my chest as the fog from my kiss just cleared from her head. Her cheeks heat. Reluctantly, I let her slip from my arms. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  Her brow arcs, “Why, so you can lock me in?”

  “At least you’ll have a spa bathroom and a real bed. If your nice, I’ll even let you watch Netflix.” She flips me the bird, making me grin. “I’ll fix some food. Go.” I point to the stairs, “Last room on the right. Don’t pull any shit, Christine. I won’t hesitate to smack that ass of yours and you know it. Or maybe you’d like that?” My voice lowers as do my eyes. She responds by turning on her heel and sprinting up the stairs. Ten seconds later her door slams. Whistling through my teeth I count to thirty, will my dick to go down and follow. I crack the door open seeing a glimpse of skin before she enters the bathroom. I shut the door fast before I act like an animal and take what she’s not ready to give. I want it all. Hearts and flowers be damned. This girl is getting all the fucked up jagged pieces of me. But I’ll love her with the fierce tenderness only a warrior can give. I just hope she’s smart enough not to turn her back on our second chance. Roque will end her if she doesn’t come around and if he does… I’ll go with her. I finally get it. How and why Romeo followed his Juliet. I’ve been half alive thinking mine was gone. If She dies, I’ll follow. How fucked up is that when I’m not even sure if she even likes me?

  5

  Christine

  My hands tremble as I turn on the jets. Just when I had become accepting of my life in the cellar—he came. I still can’t wrap my head around it. I thought for sure he was dead. That the mob put a hit on him for falling for me. I was so close to putting him and Salvatore away. But Salvatore was never my prize. Johnny was. I lied to my bosses, hid my truth. My revenge against the Lamatti’s was personal and had nothing to do with my sworn oath of my badge. But the way his hands felt on my skin. The way he commanded me with his kiss… or the way his brow would furrow while trying to solve Sudoku on Sunday mornings while we both sipped dark roast… those are the things I wasn’t counting on. The damn, stupid fool really fell for me. And for a moment I was free falling too. I let myself forget for the moments I soared while pinned under him until my brother reminded me with autopsy pictures what was at stake if I failed. My mother was Irish and my father the one with Italian blood and connections to Sicily.

  Jack.

  My head hangs. He believes they won. That I’m a ghost. I suppose in a way I am. If I escape Johnny, I doubt I’ll make it far unless I can get to a Fed safehouse. I try not to crumble under the hot spray as I remember my keeper. He kept me prisoner, but he was kind.

  “Be strong. Get out of this. You are a survivor.” I wash my hair that’s now down my back wondering just what kind of sweet torture Johnny has in mind. I need to throw him off his game. I could seduce the fuck out of him and hope to escape when he’s asleep somehow. Or kill him. I could break a glass, knock him out. I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t kill him. I just can’t. Turning off the taps, I grab a towel and venture into the bedroom. With my towel firmly tucked around me I try the doo
r. Just as I had suspected he locked it from the outside, on my bed are piles of new clothes. Soft, clean, and warm. My fingers run over the softest pair of jeans, but I just can’t. I won’t be his dressed up and kept whore. Held prisoner for my crimes against his heart when he’s the legit criminal here. Not me. I pick up my old clothes, giving them a good shake before squaring my shoulders and rapping on my side of the door. “You can let me out now.” I press my palm flat against the door, bowing my head when I hear the deep rumble of his voice coming from the other side. “You gonna be a good girl? My good girl?” That’s what he used to call me in more playful moments.

  My voice cracks when I answer. “I can’t promise you that. I can’t promise you anything,” I answer truthfully. The lock unclicks and when I open my eyes, his are right in front of me.

  “Why? Why baby? We were so good together. Why couldn’t you just come clean to me and change your mind?” He bites his lip as if his words pain him. My eyes shutter remembering the way he tasted. He’s also freshly showered, and the delicious smell of his skin has me biting back a moan of my own. This man could undo me, and I always knew it.

  “You killed my parents.” My words erase the web of desire building between us. His face twists into crisscrosses of lines. Worry fills his eyes. I want to melt. Melt straight into a man who almost made me forget my purpose when I soared in his arms. He’s so big. Warm and strong. I often pretended to be someone else when I was with him. I could sleep nestled in his embrace for hours, sated and content. The damn oaf cherished me and in return I broke him. “I was twelve and you were sixteen. I know it was you.”

  “Is that what this is about then?”

  I lift my chin.