by Kate Serine
Jack grunted. “As beautiful as the day I married her,” he said. “Can’t figure out why she’d stick it out with me, but I’d be lost without her. She’s one helluva woman.”
“Give her a kiss from me,” Nicky said.
“She’s pissed as hell you haven’t been to Sunday dinner in so long,” Jack told him. “You and Trish come over soon. Vera’ll cook you up a feast.”
Nicky inclined his head, that smile I was beginning to recognize as his business expression curving his lips. “It’d be our pleasure.”
Jack put his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands, giving Nicky a rather pained look. “And, I’m sorry—but I gotta say it. We were real sad to hear about Jules.”
Nicky shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cast a glance my way. “Forget about it.”
Jack’s brows twitched together in a brief frown, but it faded quickly on a nod. “So, what can I do ya for?”
Nicky leaned forward, definitely all business now. “I need to find the Pigg brothers.”
Jack’s face twisted. “Those fuckin’ guys,” he grunted. “Why the hell would you want to find them?”
“I think they’re doing a job somewhere here in town, and I need to know where.”
Jack shook his head and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his abdomen. “Let’s say I know where they are. What then?”
Nicky shrugged. “Then I go have a chat with them. See what they have to say.”
“Come on, Nicky,” Jack drawled. “You and I both know how your ‘chats’ go. Hell, you shot up three of my guards, and I’m a friend.”
“Just flesh wounds,” Nicky argued. “They’re all Tales. They’ve probably already healed.”
“Not the point, Nicky, and you know it.” Jack turned to me. “Talk some sense into him, Trish. The Piggs were indicted for fraud and sued for all kinds of shoddy building. But you think it made a dent in their wallets? They made their real money in the Here and Now working as cleanup men for criminals who could pay their fee. If there’s a body someone doesn’t want to be found, the Piggs know how to get rid of it. God knows how many people are buried in concrete around town.”
“And you’re worried about Nicky?” I asked, not bothering to disguise my doubt. I’d seen Nicky in action. I had no doubt that he could handle three brothers whose claim to fame in Make Believe had been building shitty houses and getting sideways with Seth Wolf. Sure, Seth was a werewolf, but Nicky was still a force to be reckoned with. No matter how I looked at it, I just couldn’t share Jack’s concern.
“Just tell me where I can find them,” Nicky said. “And I’ll take my chances.”
Jack sighed. “It’s your own necks, I guess. Last I heard, they were doing a job out in Oak Park. I’ll have Ethan look up the address for you. Just promise me you won’t get yourself killed, you stubborn asshole. It’d seriously piss me off.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I didn’t know you had a godson,” I said as we pulled into a half-built office complex in the suburbs where the Piggs had currently set up shop.
Nicky grunted but was smiling. “Jack and I used to hang out together in Make Believe. He was my partner in crime, literally and figuratively. Then he went and settled down with Vera.” He chuckled. “I never figured Jack for a family man. When he came over about twenty years ago, he had a rough time finding good work. Then Ethan was born and Jack had even more of a reason to find something that would help him feed his family. He started doing all kinds of bullshit jobs for some pretty shady characters; damned near got himself killed pissing off the wrong people. I tried to get him to work for me and told him he could do whatever he wanted on the side for some extra money so long as it didn’t get him in trouble with the Ordinaries or the FMA. But he thought there’d be more money in his own freelancing. Some friend I am, huh? I should’ve just made the stupid ass go straight and get a real job to keep him out of trouble.”
“He could’ve taken you up on your offer,” I pointed out. “You can’t blame yourself for someone else’s bad decisions.”
He grunted again. “Nah, I could’ve pushed harder, insisted he get out of street scams and other shit. But I didn’t want to lose his friendship. When it came down to it, I guess I was a little envious of what he did have. A wife. Family. I wanted that, wanted to be near that. I just didn’t know it.”
I blinked at him, startled by the revelation. It had never occurred to me that Nicky had wanted to have a family. I don’t know why it surprised me. When I thought about what I’d seen that day in the clearing when I’d looked into his eyes, I realized that I should’ve known all along that a man with such an amazing capacity to love would make an incredible husband and father. I’d seen a hint of what could be when he’d interacted with his godson. And suddenly I wanted that, too. I wanted that with Nicky.
He pulled the Escalade around to the side of a building where it was less likely to be seen and started to get out when I grabbed his hand. He gave me a quizzical look. “What’s doin’, doll? You okay?”
I pulled him to me and kissed him. “I love you,” I whispered. “I thought I saw everything there was to see about you when I caught a glimpse of your soul, but it was only that—just a glimpse. There is so much more to love than I’d ever imagined.”
Nicky’s lips claimed mine in a kiss that could’ve easily led to one seriously hot interlude, but he pulled away with a groan. “We should probably get this over with,” he mumbled. “But, just so you know, when I get you home, I’m gonna show you just how many ways I love you.”
I had to force down my happiness, bury it deep, as we walked toward the building where the Piggs had set up their on-site office. Calling it a trailer would be a misnomer. It looked more like a three-bedroom ranch on wheels. There was even latticework all around the bottom, hiding the open space beneath the trailer, giving it a very homey touch. The place was huge. Great for them, not so great for us. Too many places to hide weapons. Or henchmen. I didn’t like it at all.
And there’d be no kicking in the door, either. The steps leading up to the door were narrow metal pieces of shit that looked like it’d be a miracle if they didn’t buckle as we climbed them.
“Well, here we go,” Nicky mumbled. “Just stay close to me. I don’t trust these fuckers any farther than I can throw ’em.”
But before we’d even reached the steps, the door slammed open and a rotund man with slicked-back black hair, a rather porcine nose, and the stub of a cigar between his teeth waddled down the stairs at what apparently was a jog, opening his arms wide.
“Nicky Blue, you motherfucker!” he called, chuckling so hard his belly bounced. “How the hell are ya?”
Nicky looked more than a little mystified when the guy wrapped his thick arms around him in a hug. “I’m good, I’m good,” Nicky gasped, stepping out of the guy’s hold. “It’s been a long time, Orvall.”
“Damn right it has!” Orvall snatched his cigar out of his mouth and gestured toward me. “And who is this beautiful young lady you’ve brought to see us, my friend? If I was twenty years younger and about a hundred pounds lighter, you’d be in trouble, boy. I was a charmer back in the day.”
“I’m Trish Muffet,” I said, extending a hand.
Orvall gripped it in his plump fist and gave it a firm shake, chuckling again. “Well, I’ll be damned—you got yourself a girl from the FMA, Nicky? You got some brass balls, my friend, I’ll give you that!” He turned back to their office and motioned for us to follow. “Come on, come on! We’re just cookin’ up some brats and sauerkraut! Come eat! You two look like you’re wastin’ away to nothin’.”
Bemused by the surprisingly warm welcome, I glanced at Nicky as we followed, but he seemed just as baffled as I was. He obviously hadn’t expected it either. “What the hell?” I mouthed.
But he just shrugged. And checked to make sure his gun was still at the small of his back.
When we walked inside, two other men just as rotund as Orvall turned away fr
om the stove and raised their arms, crying out in unison, “Hey! Nicky!”
Not only were the Piggs brothers, they were triplets. Identical triplets.
Nicky nodded hesitantly. “Irwin. Merv.”
“Grab a beer!” one of them said, gesturing toward the fridge.
“Ice cold!” said the other.
Nicky eyed them warily, pulling me a little behind him. “I’m grateful for your hospitality,” he said, his business grin curling his lips, “but I have to say, boys, it’s rather unexpected.”
Orvall dropped down into a huge easy chair that still only barely managed to contain his bulk. “Nicky . . .” he drawled, drawing out the word, “we’ve always been friendly. You’ve never crossed us. We’ve never crossed you. No harm in showing a little . . . cordiality to a colleague now and then, is there?”
Nicky spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t!” Merv chimed in. He wagged his tongs at Nicky. “You’re good people. Always showing respect to those who deserve it.”
“And even some who don’t,” Irwin said with a shrug.
“Now, sit down, sit down,” Orvall said, waving Nicky and me toward an overstuffed sofa covered in what had to be the gaudiest flower pattern I’d ever seen. “Have some supper and we’ll talk business after. Irwin, grab our guests a beer!”
As soon as Nicky and I were seated, Irwin shoved ice cold Heinekens into our hands. I dutifully took a sip while the brothers watched, no doubt forming their opinion of me by how I responded to their generosity. “Mmm,” I said, offering Irwin a smile. “Hits the spot.”
“She’s a good girl, Nicky,” Irwin said with a wink. “Any gal not too prissy to drink beer from a bottle is okay with me. Don’t understand all them froo-froo drinks. You don’t drink none of them, do you, Ms. Muffet?”
I shook my head. “Oh, no! I’m definitely a beer and pretzels kind of girl.”
Orvall chuckled and slapped his knee. “Marry this one, Nicky!” he whooped. “Except for liking you, she’s a smart kid!”
Nicky actually flushed a little and cast a glance my way before replying, “Trish is definitely a keeper.”
As Nicky and Orvall chatted about whether the Blackhawks would make it to the play-offs and the new taxes the FMA had proposed for Tale businesses, I sat quietly, taking it all in. For all the politeness and show of hospitality, there was an undercurrent of tension in the room that had all the men on edge. Nicky’s shoulders were visibly bunched, ready to spring at the first sign of a threat. And as all of us gathered around the dinette for an early dinner, I glanced back and forth between them, studying each of them in turn.
Orvall was definitely the dominant brother, the one in charge. And while they all had a genial manner and went out of their way to make Nicky and me feel welcome, there was no mistaking that these men wouldn’t hesitate to cut our throats and bury us at the closest city dump if provoked. As soon as the dinner was cleared away, leaving only the lingering odor of sauerkraut in the air, Orvall leaned back in his chair and regarded Nicky with an even gaze, looking down his stubby nose at him.
“So, what brings you to our little corner of suburbia, Nicky?” he asked, getting to the point. “You’ve never approached us before.”
Nicky downed the last swig of his beer and set the bottle aside before leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. “I hear you might be doing a construction job for someone. Someone who would prefer to remain out of the public eye. And the sunlight.”
Orvall’s chuckle was deeper and lacking in mirth this time. “Dracula, Nicky? You asking if we’re doing a job for Dracula?”
Nicky pulled back a little, apparently surprised by Orvall’s bluntness. “Yeah.”
“And what if we are?” Orvall asked. “Why should I tell you?”
Nicky shrugged, regaining his composure. “Professional courtesy. I would consider it a gesture of friendship.”
Orvall nodded, scratching the stubble on his chinny-chin-chin. “Here’s the thing,” he said, talking around the cigar clamped between his teeth. “I hear you’re getting out of the business. I hear you’ve gone soft. So what would it behoove me to be your friend? Especially when you’ve never once come to me offering friendship before?”
Nicky spread his hands. “You know me, Orvall,” he said. “I’ve never had need of your particular services. But it’s not because I think I’m too good to ask for your assistance. It’s just that, unlike some of these other incompetent mooks, I clean up my own messes.”
Orvall’s beady black eyes narrowed at Nicky. “And what about you getting out of the business? That true?”
Nicky shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m redefining my objectives.”
Merv chuckled, receiving a pointed glare from his brother. He coughed, the laughter dying on his lips.
Orvall jerked his chin. “Not falling in with these Agency assholes, are you?”
“The Agency?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “What do you know about them?”
Luckily, Orvall didn’t seem to mind me interrupting. “They came around a month or so ago, snooping, asking a shitload of questions. Wanted us to do a job for them, but they didn’t say what. I told them they could shove their job up their asses with my compliments. I even offered to help with that. They declined my offer.”
“Didn’t stop ’em comin’ around again, though,” Irwin added.
“Brought the Ordinary police with ’em that time,” Merv explained. “Slapped a zillion fines on us, some trumped up bullshit about building permits and zoning violations. Somehow they got it in their heads that we were putting in a titty bar just up the road from a school.”
“Are you?” I asked, earning a disapproving look from Nicky.
“Forgive her question,” he said. “She’s not used to working with men of honor.”
The brothers gave a terse nod in unison. “No offense taken,” Orvall assured him. He then turned to me. “We might be sons of bitches, Ms. Muffet, but we have principles. And some things simply are not done.”
I felt my face flushing. “Of course.”
“So, why would the Agency be out to cause you problems?” Nicky asked, steering the conversation back to our purpose for coming. “If you said no to the job, why not just hire some Ordinaries to do it? I’m sure they could’ve found someone willing. If there’s one thing I know about Ordinaries, it’s money talks.”
The triplets grunted and nodded in unison.
“Maybe they did,” Orvall suggested, scratching at his chin again.
Nicky was still frowning when we heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of the Piggs’ trailer. “Expecting anyone?” he asked, instantly on edge.
Orvall shook his head and heaved himself to his feet. He went to the window and pulled back the edge of the curtains. “Speak of the friggin’ devil.”
My brows came together and I rushed to the window, peeking out just in time to see Ian Spalding getting out of his car as three other Agency vehicles pulled into the parking lot. “What the hell are they doing here?” I muttered.
“You got a back door?” Nicky asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the window.
Apparently Merv was already thinking the same thing. “This way,” he called in a stage whisper from the back of the trailer.
Nicky shoved me ahead of him toward where Merv was motioning for us to get the lead out. Merv lifted a trap in the floor of the trailer, revealing what looked like a tunnel running under the parking lot. Now I understood the need for the latticework under the trailer. It wasn’t to make the place look homey; it was to disguise their emergency exit.
“Where does this go?” I asked. But before I got an answer, Merv was handing me down into the darkness. I glanced over my shoulder at Orvall and Irwin in time to see Orvall flipping up the cushions on the sofa and pulling out a pair of UZIs and handing one off to his brother. Apparently they were no longer relying upon a pot of boili
ng water to take care of the wolves at their door. . . .
I quickly climbed down the metal ladder affixed to the tunnel wall and dropped the last couple of feet to the floor, praying there weren’t any rats waiting for me at the bottom. A moment later, Nicky joined me, a flashlight in hand. He flicked it on, then shined it up at Merv. They gave each other a terse nod just as the first pat pat pat of rapid gunfire rang out. The trapdoor dropped and I heard hurried footsteps above our heads.
“We shouldn’t leave them,” I whispered to Nicky.
He looked just as conflicted about leaving as I was, but then he took my hand and began leading me through the tunnel. “They can take care of themselves,” he assured me. “Right now, I’m getting you the hell out of here.”
We’d only walked for maybe two minutes before the sound of gunfire died down. Nicky came to an abrupt halt and cast a glance over his shoulder. “Shit.”
I only had time to get a glimpse of him before he flicked off the flashlight and pulled me into his arms, holding me close as he listened intently. In the distance, we heard the quiet creak of the trapdoor opening.
“Go,” he hissed in my ear.
We took off down the tunnel, feeling along the walls in the darkness, keeping our footsteps as quiet as possible. The people following us weren’t so concerned. Hearing each of them drop down into the tunnel, I picked up the pace, holding tightly to Nicky’s hand and hoping like hell he had some idea where we were going.
A loud crack sounded behind us as one of our pursuers opened fire. I crouched down instinctively and felt Nicky’s arm going around my shoulders, pulling me in front of him to protect me. We picked up the pace, no longer caring about the Agency assholes hearing our footsteps.
Nicky gave me a nudge to keep going. “Stay low,” he whispered. Then I heard him fire off a few rounds behind us. There was a grunt of pain as one of the rounds struck home.
Crouching low along the wall, I ran faster. Relief washed over me as I felt Nicky close behind me. But just when I thought the agents had backed off, they shot at as again, this time in a spray of bullets. Nicky cursed under his breath. I glanced behind me as if I could tell in the darkness whether he’d been hit, and suddenly slammed into a dirt wall, crying out in surprise before I could stop myself.