by Sadie Jacks
Rafael glared at me. “It’s just nighttime acetaminophen. She needs sleep. Good sleep. Not that catnap crap she’s been trying to get in the evenings. She had a nightmare last night. Tali said Will managed maybe three hours of good sleep…in total.”
“And that gives you the right to drug her without her permission?” I barked as I adjusted her in my arms. “I’m going to go lay her down, and then I’m going to come back out here and kick your ass.”
I walked towards the bedroom.
“You won’t have to. We will,” Domenico said. Their conversation switched to Italian. Heated, angry Italian.
I heard the first thump of flesh against flesh. Guess Domenico hadn’t been lying about kicking his brother’s ass. Good.
I laid her down. Stuffed a pillow under her knees to maintain the gentle bend of the joint. I pulled the skirt of her dress flat, made sure the hem was at her ankles before pulling the blankets up to cover her.
I had no idea what had happened with her ex-husband, but I knew enough about domestic violence to know that the ones who did escape it don’t like their ability to decide things violated.
Moving back to the living space, I pulled her frosted glass door shut. Not that she would hear anything, but if she did wake up, I didn’t want her trying to come out here and see what was happening.
An unknown man—who could only be an Amatucci by his hair, stance, and somewhat familiar face—was standing just inside the door. His arms were crossed over his chest, a wry smile on his face. His gaze flicked up and over as I came from Willow’s room.
His smile dropped as protectiveness descended on his face like a favorite mask. He stalked towards me. His steps silent under the sound of the ass kicking Rafael was receiving. He stopped in front of me.
An inch shorter and on the lankier side of built, but I didn’t dismiss the fire or promise of menace in his face. “What the hell were you doing in there?” he whispered.
I had to lean down to hear him. “Rafael drugged her. Without her knowledge. I put her in her bed so I could kick his ass.” I tipped my head in the direction of Turo and Domenico kicking said ass. “I was a little late to the party.”
He studied me. Silent. His gaze had an almost physical weight. “If I find out you touched her, I will kill you.”
Unlike Domenico’s threats, I believed this one. He hadn’t delivered a threat of violence, but a promise of one. This was a man of action. Precise, skilled action.
I nodded. “I don’t touch unconscious women. Nor do I abuse them.”
He dipped his chin in one short sharp motion. Then he spun on his heel and moved into the fracas.
My eyes widened in shock as he stepped into the middle of the action without hesitation. He grabbed Domenico’s arm, spun him off to the side. He ducked under Turo’s fist, pushed Rafael out of the strike zone.
Then he turned on Rafael. A small balloon of admiration filled my chest as the bigger, silent man took Rafael to the ground with barely any effort. Once on the ground, the stranger gave Rafael a temple strike. One hard pointed jab and Rafael’s head slumped to the side. His face lax.
“Massimo,” Domenico called. “We were handling it.”
Massimo smiled. “I finished it,” he whispered again.
Domenico and Massimo hugged each other, big hands slapped broad backs. “I see you met Penn.”
Massimo put his hand out. Tipped it back and forth.
“Not formally,” I said. I stepped forward, held out a hand. “Ryker Penn.”
Massimo’s eyes widened. “You’re the stairwell savior.”
I nodded. “Something like that.”
He shook my hand. “Thank you for caring for her.” He met my gaze, held it.
I nodded again. “Glad I was there to help.” I pointed with my chin. “He going to be alright?”
Massimo smiled. Nodded. “He should only be out for another couple of minutes.”
I smiled. “What style was that?”
Massimo just smiled, shrugged.
“Whatever works?” I asked.
Massimo smiled. Shrugged again.
A man of few words. Whispered words at that.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Excuse me,” I said as I pulled it out. My pulse started racing. “You’re going to want to hear this.” I hit the connect button. “Nik, it’s me. Go.”
Her low sultry laugh poured from the speaker like sin and sex.
I rolled my eyes.
Turo though…Turo looked at my phone like he’d seen Valhalla.
“As you wish, Master Penn.”
“Stow it, Nik. You’re on speaker phone. We need them focused, not panting after you.”
Another laugh. “Fine. Steal all my fun. What do you want me to share?”
“All of it. They’re in this as well.”
“Amatucci boys then, huh? Hello, Amatuccis” I could imagine the smile on her face. The little fingertip wiggle of her wave.
“Anytime there, Nik.”
She heaved a sigh. “So bossy. Fine. Cavendish had to pull major strings to even get little Evvy on the waitlist for Harvard. Cost him a significant portion of his remaining fortune, his mistress in the city, and his second pied-a-terre. Wife number three is on the brink of taking half of what he has left. All his hopes of financial recovery are tied up in Everett getting into Harvard.”
“Why Harvard?” What could he possibly have to gain by his kid going to a specific school?
“Seems he’ll get some kind of quid pro quo kickback? I’m still digging on that one. The other end of that stick is hidden deep in someone’s ass.”
The Amatuccis laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “Anything else? What about Errington?”
The three standing Amatuccis jerked and growled at me.
I waved them quiet.
“Ethan Embry Errington, currently aged thirty-three, graduated high school at the age of fourteen. Went pre-med to Harvard. Finished in two years. Graduated top of his class. Graduated top of his class from Harvard Medical School—that he finished in three years, the slacker. Went on to complete his surgical residency at Harvard. Shocker of all shocks, he finished early and top of his cohort. Had his pick of placements, settled on New Trenadie straight out of residency.”
My brow furrowed. That didn’t add up. “Why not one of the bigger hospitals in NYC?”
“Unknown, but I’m guessing something personal. I’ve got more bots doing some digging. You want the rest?”
“Yeah. Go.”
“Met one Willow Koa Chase just after moving to NT. Began seriously dating her within a couple months. Engaged after two years. Married in two years. Divorced in five years. Single for the last eighteen months.”
“Family connections?” Domenico asked.
“Ooh, that’s a sexy voice,” Nik purred. “Erringtons are old money, old politics in the great state of Rhode Island. On the surface, they’ve got it made. But their dynasty is built on back alley deals and shady practices. Big surprise.”
“Why did Errington diverge from the path?” Turo asked.
Nik gave an actual purr over the line. “I think the next meeting should be in person, boss,”
My eyes almost rolled themselves back into my skull. “Information, Nik.”
“Fine, fine, fine.” She heaved a sigh. “Seems he was a wunderkind of the medical field. Nothing but top grades from kindergarten through surgical residency. Excellent credit score. No police record. Hell, nothing but the record of his birth, his marriage, and his divorce are on file. Zero brushes with the police. I haven’t found any psych testing or instances of instability. No therapy, no drug problems. Hell, he doesn’t even have porn subscriptions. He’s a big donor to medical research. Has published a library’s worth of papers on a variety of subjects. He’s the literal salt of the earth, do-gooder type, boss man.”
I doubted it. No vices whatsoever? He was either good at hiding them or he was good enough not to get caught with them. “No one remains squeaky clea
n, Nik. Keep digging.”
“On it.” She lowered her voice. “Bye boys.”
I cut off her husky laugh. The woman could get through any computer system, had a body like a centerfold, and loved to play with men. She changed men as often as she changed her panties. If any of these men wanted to play with her, that was fine. But not right now.
Turo cleared his throat. “I need her number. I’ve got some…information I need her to check.”
“After we get this figured out. Why would Cavendish get money if his kid goes to Harvard? That’s one of my burning questions. Second, what is Errington hiding? No one skips through thirty-three years of living without any kind of record. Even calling as a concerned citizen gets you logged somewhere. If Nik didn’t find it, it’s not there to be found.”
“Did someone wash his info?” Domenico asked.
I shook my head. “Nik would have caught that as well. There’re always traces. If Nik says she’ll find more information, she’ll find it. Right now, I’m more interested in the Cavendish issue with Harvard. Who’s going to pay John if Everett goes to Harvard? Is it only Harvard or would any school do?”
“The only thing I can think of in that kind of transaction is human trafficking,” Turo said. “Unfortunately, there’s tons of money in selling humans.”
I shook my head. “No. John selling his kid to traffickers? He might be an asshole, but…” I trailed off.
“What’s this Everett kid look like?” Massimo asked in his hushed voice.
“About six-one, shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, what the girls today would call hot,” Domenico snorted. “Bit of a weak sister in my opinion, but I’m not into dick.”
I pulled up a picture of him on the internet. Showed it to Massimo. “Here. Why?”
The quiet man took the phone and studied it for a moment. He handed it back and looked at his brothers, a heavy silence filled the room.
“Fuck,” Turo said, shoved his fingers into his pinched eyes. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
“Um, still not understanding here,” I said, waving a hand.
“It is your call, fratello,” Massimo said.
Turo held up a hand. Paced away, seemed to have some kind of conversation with himself. Came back. Gone was the jovial man whose eyes gleamed when talking about money. Before me stood a man who controlled fates and fortunes. Lives and deaths. He spoke formally and softly. “What I’m about to tell you goes nowhere. You’ve earned this small trust with your actions for our Willow. If this comes back on us, we will know where the leak originated. Yes?”
I nodded, not completely sure I wanted in on whatever was about to be said, but I couldn’t really back out now. “You have my assurances.” I held out my hand.
He studied me for a moment longer. Shook my hand. “Amatuccis have business interests in many different countries. We do not play in some waters for personal, moral reasons. Human trafficking is one such ocean. It has come to our attention that some of our family members have tried to open this line of business abroad. They have been dealt with and made examples of. That being said, Massimo has confirmed the likelihood that the younger Cavendish fits the…preferences of one of the known buyers.” He looked at his brother. Nodded.
Massimo turned to me. “This person is known to enjoy breaking young men such as this one. This person has a reputation of going through these men rather quickly and needing an almost constant supply. It has been whispered that this person uses important colleges as hunting grounds because this person enjoys the media storm of abducting more than just ‘street trash.’ If it is the case that this older Cavendish has made arrangements for his son to be at Harvard, it could be that he has already sold his son.”
My belly curdled as what little heart I had froze. I licked my lips. “And what would the going rate be for someone like Everett Cavendish?”
Massimo grimaced. “That would depend on many factors. The biggest one being if he has an entitled attitude. This buyer came from nothing, achieved much through brute force and brutality.”
I looked at Domenico. “I’ve never met Everett. What are your thoughts?”
“Considering his father has gotten him out of almost every possible consequence, I would imagine that the younger is quite entitled and egocentric.”
I turned back to Massimo. “The price tag?”
“Between four and ten million. As I said, there are many factors.” He shrugged. Something shifted in his gaze before he looked away.
All of us were quiet as we took in the idea that John Cavendish might have potentially sold his son to a monster. On one hand I wanted to throw up. On another I wanted to beat the shit out of John and sell him to the lowest bidder. And yet on someone else’s hand, Everett had kind of landed himself in this position. Not that he deserved to be sold like a boat, but sometime, somewhere, he was going to piss off the wrong person. He should be glad the Amatuccis were willing to let the law handle his behavior at their club.
I nodded. “Okay, assuming John is trying to sell his son, what do we do about it?”
The Amatuccis just stared at me.
I felt my eyes widen as I looked at each man. “You can’t seriously be suggesting that we do nothing.”
“How are you going to prove that this is the case? There is no proof. No evidence. Hell, there is nothing but rumors from the mafia.” He gave me a look. “Where would you go? Who would you tell?”
I raised my hands. “I’m not going to share the knowledge or tell anyone. But we can’t just let the asshole get sold into slavery.”
“We are not selling him into slavery. We are doing nothing,” Turo said.
Again, I was met with three glacial expressions.
“So you tell yourselves that because you are not actively engaged in the behavior that your hands are clean of the outcomes?” There was a twisted sense of morals in there. Not good morals. But morals nonetheless.
Turo shot me a sad smile. “What is your stance on drugs? Prostitution? Gambling? You know they are being done, yet you do nothing to stop these. Where is your sense of moralistic outrage in these matters?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. The argument that had run through my mind was illogical. Fuck. I tunneled my fingers through my hair. I sighed. “You’re right. I know that drugs kill people. That prostitution kills people. That gambling, if it doesn’t kill people, has certainly killed families and relationships.”
All three men nodded.
“So you know these activities go on, but you do nothing to prevent them from happening. You can lie your head on your pillow at night and not have nightmares about the lives of those who indulge in such passions,” Turo said.
“But Everett wouldn’t be choosing that life. He would be sold into it.”
“Yes. By his father,” Massimo said softly. “Are you going to shake your fist at the father? Condone the behavior of the son? From our investigation, Everett has sexually assaulted at least three women. Where is their justice? Where is their valiant defender?”
Fuck.
Domenico sighed. “We are not evil men, Penn. We protect our own. No matter their station. We may even be selective in who we consider our ‘own.’ But we do not condone the selling of humans. No matter the reason. We do not engage in the practice, nor do we allow it in our family business. However, until the world changes, we do not stop those who do. For it would be a fight that we cannot win. We do not stop those because to do so would result in the end of our protection for our own. La famiglia è tutto.” He shot me a sad smile. “Family is everything.”
Well shit. I was guilty of the same thing, if so to a lesser extent. Could I try to rescue Everett and try to get the whole organization taken down? Would that even be possible? What about Corinne? What would happen to her if I failed? What about my mother and step-father? Didn’t they deserve my protection as well?
I plopped myself into one of the chairs. Winced when it groaned under my weight. “Well fuck.”
“Mi dispiace, fratello mio,” Turo s
aid as he clapped his hand over the ball of my shoulder. “I’m sorry, my brother. Knowledge is not necessarily power. And those that lack power, must pretend to not have the knowledge.”
That was the fucking truth.
Chapter 19 – Willow
I woke in the dark. Granted, I had to slap myself in the face to make sure I was actually awake and not stuck back in the hell that had comprised my life before. But I was definitely awake.
And someone was about to lose his head. I reached out next to me, checked for Talia. Nope. Cold blanket.
Next, I raised my head and tried to turn enough to see the wall clock that was faintly illuminated. It better only be a couple hours later than when I remember falling asleep.
“RAAAAAAFE!” I shrieked it. “GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN THIS ROOM RIGHT FUCKING NOW, YOU FUCKER!” I pushed back the blankets, saw that I was still in my dress from earlier.
That was his only saving grace.
The door slid open, Ryker stood on the threshold. He raised his hand. “His brothers roughed him up. He’s going to be nursing a sore body for a while.”
I glared up at him. “Did you know he planned to drug me?”
He looked insulted. “No. I’m the one who figured it out, actually. Can I come in?”
I nodded. I felt a little deflated that my chance to rip Rafe a new asshole had been denied. “When are they coming back?” I asked the man as he stopped directly in front of me.
“Tali came in about half an hour ago. They’ve—” he cleared his throat, pitched it high “—been summoned to Mama’s house because Massi didn’t check in the way he was supposed to.” He gave his imaginary long hair a flick that looked very Tali-esque.
I laughed. “And what did you do to earn the right of staying and babysitting?” My brow furrowed. “Were you a naughty boy?” I shook my finger at him.
He smirked as he lowered his hands to help me up. “Oh, I’m very naughty, but no. I was the only one not formally summoned.”
I put my hands in his. Stiffened my arms so he could pull me up. I chuckled. “I bet you are naughty. How long have I been out?”
I was focused on his t-shirt as I tried to breathe through the pain. For some reason everything ached more than it should this time.