by Eden Butler
“Bella…” he said, motioning toward the gun.
I picked it up, hating the weight of it, uncomfortable with how it felt in my hand, but Dimitri nodded, telling me in one gesture I’d be okay. He grabbed it from me, pulling back the slide to check to see if there was a bullet in the chamber before he turned it around and offered it to me. “Point this at him. If he gets twitchy, fucking shoot that asshole.”
I moved into Dimitri’s spot, standing with the gun between my hands, pointing it right at Alejandro’s chest. He looked so tiny and weak. I wouldn’t let any pity I felt for him make me lower that gun. This bastard beat up Vi and he took my baby. I didn’t care what he’d done to himself or what happened to him after this night.
“Maggie,” he tried, his voice craggy and broken. “Please don’t let him…”
“Shut up, hijo de las mil putas!” He jerked at the insult, lying flat on his back, one hand covering his face.
“She said you were a bitch.”
“Who said?” I asked, knowing he was trying to bait me, so I curled my grip on the gun.
“That waitress…the blonde. Paris.”
The laugh when it came shot from my throat without me realizing it. I clicked my tongue, my face heating just at the mention of her name. Toni had told me that Dimitri had turned her down. Then, Mrs. C. fired her for being so obvious around him and for being a nosey bully about me. But this? This was news. Unsurprising but still news to me.
“Paris helped you?”
“Reynolds…saw a picture of you at that restaurant. With the owners and a baby he said looked just like me. I’m not a stupid man. No matter what you think of me. I’ve been looking for you since you left me. When he asked the waitress about the girl in the picture, she called you the owner’s favorite bitch. Said you’d showed up a few months before with your baby begging for a job.” He made a face, squeezing his eyes shut. “Then she said you’d landed the job by fucking the owner’s son. I didn’t want to believe…but seeing you with that…fucking…”
“Paris is a liar. And she’s been after Dimitri for years. She’d say anything to make me look bad.”
Alejandro released a sigh that kicked up a coughing fit.
“Wait,” I said, wondering why Paris would keep something like this to herself. She could have used this to her advantage. Told me some suit had asked questions. It was her M.O. to run off and lie and tell Dimitri I was messing around with some patron from the restaurant. “Paris never said anything to me. Why? And…what about August? How does he…”
“She got paid off. And August…”
But however August figured into the situation, I didn’t know. Dimitri chose that exact moment to come through the door, leaving the back room, his arms weighted down with a yawning Mateo.
“Mijo!” I met Dimitri in the middle of the room, handing him the gun while I took my baby from him, kissing his face, inhaling him, holding him close. “Oh, thank God. Thank you! My sweet boy.”
There had been tension squeezing my limbs, my joints and every square inch of my chest since the moment we walked into my apartment and found Vi on that floor and Mateo gone. Now it eased. Now there was warmth again and a feeling that I’d never been more relieved. It got warmer, that sensation wrapping around me when Smoke curled his arms on my shoulder and he kissed Mateo’s forehead.
“Good,” he said. “It’s good…”
“He isn’t yours!” Alejandro said, scrambling to his feet. “She isn’t either.”
Dimitri stepped in front of us, circling around my ex, the gun hanging loosely in his hand. When he spoke, his voice was lower, calmer, but there was still a warning sharpening his tone. “They are mine in a way they’ll never be yours.” He scratched his chin with the muzzle of the gun. “You don’t get that?” When Alejandro only glared at him, his attention moving to me, to the monitors behind us, all around the room, Dimitri sighed, sounding tired and exhausted. “Just tell me who you got as back up, so I can take care of my business.”
“They are my business!” There was a vein pulsing on the side of Alejandro’s neck when he yelled at Dimitri and his eyes had taken on a wet, red look. As he stood, he pulled at his collar, wiping the moisture from his lashes. “They are mine. Mine. They belong to me!”
“The hell they do,” Dimitri said, his fingers curving around the gun. “You don’t abandon your family, asshole. You don’t exchange your woman for smack. You don’t treat the people you love like they don’t fucking matter!”
Alejandro winced at Dimitri’s accusations, slipping his gaze to me, the expression on his face hurt, as though he didn’t want to believe I’d spilled his secrets.
“Yeah, she told me. She tells me everything. She trusts me. I trust her. That’s what you do when you…”
“Don’t say it!” Alejandro twisted his head, covering his face. “I don’t want to hear this bullshit.”
“Enough of this,” Dimitri said, his voice raising over Alejandro’s whining. “Tell me now. Who the hell is helping you?” He lifted the gun and I curled Mateo closer to my chest, shielding his eyes away from Dimitri as he grabbed Alejandro’s collar and pointed the nine in his face.
I turned away too, not wanting to see how my ex cowered from Dimitri, how he lifted his chin like his entire body wasn’t shaking.
“Last time, bastard. Who the hell—” But then, his voice went quiet and I heard the soft thump, something that reminded me of the moments when Mateo was learning to walk and would hit his head against the floor and instantly cry for me. Then, I turned, horrified when Dimitri hit the floor, the gun falling from his hand.
“I am, asshole,” Reynolds said, holding the butt of his gun in his hand. He turned, his smile stretching when I stared at him, then becoming a toothy, exaggerated expression when I backed away as he moved toward me. “Well, hello there, beautiful.”
18
Maggie
Toni had been right about the first Rolex. It had to have been a fake. Looking at the one John Reynolds wore now as he lowered the gun and held the butt in his palm, I got the impression that things had improved for him.
“Maggie,” he said, biting on his bottom lip. Like the last time he’d been this close to me, the man was obvious how he looked at me, letting his gaze wash over me like I was prime rib and he was ravenous.
But like Alejandro, he’d let excess get the better of him. He didn’t seem as riddled by addiction as my ex-husband, but something had turned Reynolds into a thinner, older version of himself. Even his spiked, over-gelled hair was thin, and gray had begun to crowd around his temples. “That picture didn’t do you justice.”
I didn’t care if he looked at me. Let him ogle all he wanted. My attention was on my son wiggling in my arms and Dimitri lying on the floor. When I ignored him, Reynolds frowned, shaking his head.
“What is it with women and criminals?” he said, looking to Alejandro, as they both watched Dimitri. “This guy’s family funnels whores, drugs, and guns into the city, probably into that dumb little town of theirs and women get wet and willing just for a glance from fuckers like him.” Reynolds stepped next to Dimitri, the gun still in his hand, and I held my breath. But he didn’t aim it. In fact, he watched Alejandro. “Even your own wife. How the hell do you explain that?”
“Money,” he said, his voice heavy with disgust. “Women love money. That’s all they want.”
Let them talk, I thought. It didn’t matter to me. Mateo began to calm when I rubbed his back, nuzzling against my neck. I tried to calm my heartbeat, trying my best not to wonder how long Dimitri would be out or how badly he’d been hurt.
“What do you want?” I asked, getting both of their attention at once, as though they’d almost forgotten I was standing in the same room.
When they exchanged a look and Reynold’s smile returned to his face, I tightened my hold on Mateo.
That smile was wide, menacing, and it had me wishing I could reach the knife Dimitri had strapped to my ankle. “The objective can’t just
be getting me here.” Alejandro watched me, his eyes were red-rimmed and irritated but he stood straight, as though he was coming down off something, and he prepared for it.
“Beautiful as you are, no, that’s not the only objective,” Reynolds said, moving away from Dimitri. When I glanced at the gun, he shrugged, holding it up, then slipped it into the waistband of his pants. “Touchy about guns? With that one around you all the time?” He looked back at Dimitri, grinning when he spotted the way he moved on the floor, how he held his head.
I moved forward, wanting to help him, but Reynolds grabbed me, holding me away from Dimitri with a death grip on my bicep. “Check him before he gets up,” he told Alejandro. “You should have done that when they got here anyway.” When my ex just stared at him, Reynolds grunted, releasing a long sigh. “For guns, asshole. Jesus!”
Alejandro moved, his frown hard at Reynolds, then at Smoke as he patted his back, coming away with two nines in his shoulder holster and the one at his waist. My ex-husband slid the guns across the floor and got to his feet, just as Dimitri sat up, making to reach for Alejandro, but missing him. His attention went straight to my face, then to Reynold’s fingers as they dug into my arm before he sat with his arms over his knees.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Dimitri said, his expression empty, his eyes like steel.
Reynolds started to laugh, seeming to put too much faith in the gun he held. Men like him were all bravado. All possession. He thought holding that thing put him on equal footing with Dimitri. Maybe he thought it made him a man same as Dimitri.
He was wrong.
No one would fear Reynolds.
Dimitri didn’t need a gun or a blade to intimidate a soul. It was there in his eyes, in the slip of anger that penetrated when he glared. It was in the promise of menace one frigid look spoke.
He gave Reynolds that look now. All expression vacant on his face, but a warning, a vow to hurt him, shooting from the steel in his haunting eyes.
Reynolds might not be a real man, but he didn’t seem like an idiot either.
He dropped my arm and didn’t argue, didn’t stop me when I moved to Dimitri on the floor.
“Are you okay?” I asked him, hating that he only nodded, only touched my face, only kissed Mateo’s temple, without taking his attention away from Reynolds or Alejandro.
The two men stood near the monitors, their heads together, calculating, planning something I couldn’t hear. Something that made Dimitri’s voice dip low and the muscles around his face tense.
“Remember what I said. It’s about to start.” I looked at him, wanting to tell him to be careful. Wanting him to know I trusted him, but the words wouldn’t come. Dimitri shook his head, seeming to know I’d gone speechless. “First chance you get,” he told me, still watching them, “you leave me behind and get the baby out of here.”
“No. I…I can’t leave you—” I started, jerking back when Dimitri glared at me and his grip tightened around my wrist.
“That’s not a fucking request.” He’d never looked at me like that before.
Cold. Cunning, like he wouldn’t tolerate his demands not being obeyed. Like a boss expecting his orders to be followed.
“You get yourselves out and I will end these two.”
“How the hell are you going to do that with a concussion?” His eyes were wide, and he moved his head like the room was spinning, trying to find a spot on the wall to center him. “You’ll get sick or…”
“Maggie,” he said, grip clamping down on my arm harder. “Fucking promise me.”
Dimitri had the most beautiful eyes. Dark. Hypnotic. They could be terrifying. Scary. He was a dangerous man. My dangerous man and right then, I wanted him to myself. But Mateo whined, pulling away from me, wanting Dimitri, wanting his attention. It was the first time since I’d known him that he refused my boy.
“Say it,” he said, touching my face. “Tell me now.”
Biting the inside of my lip, I nodded, eyes narrowed because I couldn’t look at his face when I spoke. “I promise I’ll leave when I can.”
“Good, bella. That’s good.”
“Stand up,” Reynolds said, moving in front of us with the gun pointed down.
“Be careful,” Alejandro told him, tapping his arm. “Don’t hit my son.” Then, he nodded toward me. “Maggie, move away from him. Come here.”
“I will not.”
Dimitri was calm as he stretched his arm out. The black ink on his skin barely visible as I gripped it, trying to keep Mateo from crying when he wiggled against my chest reaching for Dimitri.
“What do you want with him anyway? I thought you wanted us here. Leave…leave him out of this.”
“Carelli is the reason we’re all here,” Reynolds said, gesturing his gun to get me to move. When I didn’t, Reynolds stepped closer. “I don’t care who gets shot here. It would be…disappointing if I didn’t get the tradeoff…”
“What fucking tradeoff?” Dimitri said, reaching to the side to keep the baby from jumping away from me.
Reynolds smiled, glancing at Alejandro, who didn’t seem able to do anything but keep his head down. “It helps that my friend here is smart.” He moved to my ex’s side, lightly slapping his face. “He’s a genius programmer, but he’s a fucking junky, you know that, don’t you, beautiful?”
Beside me Dimitri stiffened, his shoulders and arms stretching like he was ready to pounce on Reynolds and take his chances with the gun. I couldn’t let that happen. “You’re not telling me something I don’t already know,” I said, squeezing Dimitri’s arm, my fingers against his chest to calm him. “I remember that night in our apartment.”
“I bet you do,” Reynolds said, grabbing Alejandro by the back of the neck. “Took me four hours to get this asshole to calm down. By the end of it, I felt sorry for him and gave him the shit because I’m a nice guy.”
I held back the laugh that bubbled in my throat and Reynolds rubbed the gun against his thigh and continued, like he was telling some stupid frat party story, and not how he’d manipulated my junkie husband. “But, because I was so generous, Alejandro owed me and I fucking love when people owe me. Favors, man. They’re my favorite.”
“And who the hell else owes you?” Dimitri asked, moving to his feet. I stood with him, adjusting Mateo as we moved behind him. “Is it Finney?”
“Finney?” Reynolds laughed, his smile wide and exaggerated. “Shit, man, you gotta think globally.” He touched the barrel of the gun to his temple and rubbed, pretending to scratch the skin there. “You really need to broaden your perspective. I know if I was in a family that had pissed off the fucking Irish mob…well, I think I’d be more observant.”
Dimitri snorted out a low laugh, not looking amused at all, muttering “Liam Shane” so low I knew only I could hear him. I’d heard that name at least a half a dozen times from Dimitri and Toni. Shane was the asshole Dante was running drugs for out of Dario’s bar. Shane had screwed everyone over and fled the country. He left Dante with a lot of product and the feds closing in on him, but it was Dario who took responsibility. Jesus, all of this because some mafia asshole wanted to pretend to be a baller and now Reynolds did too.
“So, someone in Shane’s family paid you to take me out? Is that what’s happening here? You and your little office buddies come to my family’s restaurant to get a take on how and where we operate?”
“Not anything so basic,” he said, the smile nearly gone. “But I needed an investor and he needed someone in your family gone. Didn’t really matter who. Just someone the Carellis gave enough of a shit about to start a war.” He looked at me, the grin returning. “It was easy enough to find your girl Kat. She freelances. She’s good. Or she was.”
Dimitri stepped forward, pausing when Reynolds raised the gun.
“Careful. Don’t want your brain splattered all over that baby’s face, do you?” He didn’t lower the gun until Dimitri moved back next to me. “Kat’s fine. Slipped right out from under my nose two weeks afte
r we took her. Pissed me off, but I forced enough info out of her, and I got my happy little accident seeing beautiful Maggie’s picture, knowing I could tell my boy where his wife had run off to and get him to clean up long enough to set up surveillance.” He glanced at Alejandro, head tilted when my ex didn’t return his nod. Reynolds walked up to him and flung an arm over his shoulder. “So everyone gets a happy: my client gets one of you Carellis gone to get his retribution; I get my investment for doing it; my cousin August gets cash to fund his research for finding out everything he can on Maggie here; Alejandro gets his kid and all the smack he wants and me…well…like I said, I fucking love favors.” Reynolds licked his lips, his gaze shooting to my breasts, then dipping lower. “My favorite one so far has me fucking his wife for keeping him medicated the past year.” He shrugged, patting Alejandro’s face again when the thin man flinched away from him.
“Like hell,” Dimitri said, jumping right at Reynolds. The movement was so quick, so surprising, and Reynolds had his attention on me, that he didn’t seem ready for Dimitri when he moved.
I yelped, moving away from the men when Dimitri went at Reynolds. He took a quick first swing and Reynolds fell back but managed to stay on his feet. Dimitri’s balance was still off, but he kept his feet apart and his fists up just as Reynolds regrouped and dove right for Dimitri’s gut.
“Maggie!” Dimitri called, catching my eye when he wrapped his arm around Reynold’s neck and his long legs around his waist, getting him into a chokehold. “You…promised!”
Damn him.
Mateo’s screams and cries were almost as loud as the noise Dimitri and Reynold’s made as they fought. I tried to hush my son, tried to calm him as best as I could, but Dimitri destroyed Reynolds, clocking his nose and chin, thrashing his face over and over again, and Mateo watched him, screeching and crying.
“No,” I told him, running away from the slamming, punching bodies when they landed against the wall. Reynolds pushed Smoke against the table holding all those monitors.