by Meghan March
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Creighton’s deep voice sounds like it’s been run through a wood chipper. His throat has to be torn up from being intubated during surgery, but even being flat on his back on a hospital bed doesn’t make his disgust at seeing me any easier to handle.
“Crey. Oh my God. Thank God you’re talking. You’ve been coming in and out, and I couldn’t get a single straight word out of you.” Holly smooths a hand over her husband’s pale cheek.
Creighton’s gaze fixes on his wife’s face, and he curls his fingers around her hand before glaring at me. “What the fuck happened?”
“There was a drive-by shooting,” I say, not wanting to say too much because no doubt a doctor or nurse is heading this way.
“Remember, Crey? We were all on the sidewalk, unveiling the car . . .” Holly prompts his memory, and Creighton winces.
“Fuck. The bullets started spraying. I didn’t want you to get hit.” Even laid up, his protectiveness over his wife is strong. “Are you okay? God, did you get hurt?”
“No. I’m fine,” she says, reassuring him to prevent any extra stress. “You should’ve been worrying about yourself because you’re the one who got hit. I’ve been losing my ever-loving mind since the second I saw that blood on you. Don’t you ever do that to me again. Ever. Do you hear me, Creighton Karas? I don’t care how—”
His expression softens to offer comfort to Holly, who’s about to lose it. “Shhh. I’m fine. I promise. I won’t get shot again.”
“Damn right you’re not. I’m not having it. I don’t give a damn how much money you have to spend on security. We’re not doing this again.”
Creighton’s gaze cuts to me as Holly buries her face against his chest. “I take it this has to do with Dom?”
“Of course,” I tell him, wondering what he’s going to do next. Disown the father that worships his every move?
“Where is he?” When Holly lifts her head, some of Creighton’s newfound color fades as he studies her face. “Oh fuck.”
“He’s in surgery,” I add quickly, because it’s obvious from his reaction he’s assuming the worst. “Heart attack. Not a gunshot wound. I swear to Christ he’s unkillable. He’ll pull through this too.”
Creighton attempts to sit up but relents with a slight grimace when he realizes it’s not a wise move. “Who else?”
I tell him who’s here, waiting to make sure he’s all right, and rattle off a few names of others who were gunned down at the party, not that I expect Creighton will know who the other victims are—but we’re talking. Something that we haven’t done in far too long.
Then a doctor comes into the room, and I back toward the door.
“Mr. Karas, it’s a pleasure to see you awake. I’m Dr.—” The doctor starts her spiel as I reach the doorway.
“Cannon. Wait.”
When Creighton interrupts the doctor to stop me from leaving, something too close to the feeling of hope rises in my chest.
“Yeah, Crey?”
“I want to talk to you. Alone. Before anyone leaves this fucking hospital.”
Slowly, I incline my chin. “Not a problem.”
Memphis is waiting just outside with Eden, Bishop, Cav, and Greer.
“Thank God he’s awake,” Greer whispers. “I don’t think I’d know what to do without that bossy, managing bastard trying to control our lives.”
The others laugh, but I can’t summon even a chuckle. I know exactly what it’s like not to have the bossy, managing bastard try to control my life. As great as it sounds, I miss my best friend.
Memphis slides inside the curve of my arm and wraps both of hers around me. “You’re going to get your chance to fix this with Creighton. I swear, I’ll shoot him myself if he doesn’t put this stuff between you in the past.”
Glancing down at her, I wish I was staring into her teal-colored eyes instead of the dark brown contacts.
“Is that right?”
She nods. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, Danger. I hope you know that. Whatever you need from me—today, tomorrow, or beyond—I’m here. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ve got it.”
I think about the conversation we had about safety and the brownstone. I need to get everyone out of here, except for Holly, because I know there’s no way she’ll leave Creighton’s side. Everyone else needs to be locked down where it’s safe.
I text Primo, and a few minutes later, he and one of his brothers cross the lobby to stop in front of me and Memphis.
“Yes, sir?” The respect in his tone is new. He knows the score.
With Dom and Enzo out of commission, I’m the man with the orders. The knowledge solidifies my decisions.
“Give Tempo your keys. He and Warren are taking the entire family back to the brownstone except me, you, and Holly. I’ve got more security on the way, and we’re holding down the fort to watch over Creighton, Dom, and Enzo. Everyone else is kept safe at the brownstone while we work out our next steps.”
Tempo’s jaw tenses as his brother fishes the keys out of his trouser pockets. “I wish we could retaliate. Won’t they come at us again harder if they think we’re too weak to hit them back?”
“Dom wouldn’t take a chance with his family. They’re our first priority. We get them out of here and make sure they’re safe. I’ll ask for another update on Dom and Enzo before everyone goes.”
When Tempo doesn’t reply at first, I stare him down to be sure I’m making myself clear. “Do you have a problem carrying out the direct orders you’re being given?”
His pale blue eyes take on an icy cast. “No, sir. I’ll keep them safe.”
I glance over my shoulder to where Memphis stands near Eden. “With your life, if necessary. Got me?”
Tempo gives me a short nod. “Understood, sir.”
As the brothers back away, a surgeon enters the waiting room. “Lorenzo Angelini’s family?”
No one steps forward, and when it’s clear no one plans to, I do.
“Right here.”
The surgeon doesn’t ask for any further identifying information. “Mr. Angelini is out of surgery and stable. However, he came out of his anesthesia very quickly and is agitated. If you could speak to him and explain that he’s not leaving this hospital, you’ll save him from getting sedated again right away. We can’t take the chance that he’s going to tear his stitches. Internal bleeding is a concern.”
“Where is he?” Enzo is the least of my worries, but the sooner everyone connected to the Casso family is out of the hospital, the better. You’re only as strong as your weakest link, and that’s Enzo, as far as I’m concerned.
“Follow me.”
Memphis reaches out, and I briefly touch her fingers as I pass and follow the surgeon out of the room to see Enzo.
As soon as we enter, I can tell why the surgeon looks so concerned. Enzo is on his feet, despite the fact that he’s weaving from side to side.
“Sit your ass down, Enzo. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The doctor says, “Please, Mr.—”
“I’m going after those motherfuckers. I’m gonna kill ’em all. No one puts a bullet in me without getting a face full of lead.” Enzo rips wires off the leads connected to his chest, and shoves at the nurse trying to stop him. “Get out of my fucking way, bitch.”
I stalk toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Enzo. You want to make it through surgery just to die now? Fucking idiot.”
Enzo bares his teeth like a wild animal. “You can’t stop me. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Mr. Angelini, you’re very upset, we understand. But you’re going to cause yourself more injuries if you don’t—”
Enzo charges at the nurse and she knocks into the IV pole, sending it crashing to the floor.
“I’m calling security,” the doctor shouts, rushing to the panel on the wall.
“Sedate him,” I say, offering a hand to the nurse to help her up.
T
he two hospital employees trade looks, and the doctor nods to the nurse. “Do it. Use restraints if necessary.”
Enzo wobbles on his feet, his arms flying out from his sides as he looks for something to keep him upright.
Alarms sound in the room, and footsteps pound down the hall as Enzo drops to the floor and codes.
Great. Just fucking great.
29
Cannon
Enzo isn’t dead, but he’s lucky as hell.
With the exception of Holly, I gather everyone in a private waiting room to tell them what’s happening next.
When I’ve got everyone’s attention, I start. “Until we have identified and neutralized the threat responsible for us all standing in this waiting room, we’re all taking precautions.”
“What kind of precautions?” Cav asks. “Because if we need extra security, I have an agency we use when we’re in the city. They can send us a dozen guys, if necessary.”
“Good to know. Right now, I think the safest thing for everyone is to go back to Dom’s.”
“His brownstone in Hell’s Kitchen?” Eden asks. She’s surprised I’d suggest our father’s version of a castle, a place most of us weren’t typically welcomed in growing up.
“Yeah. It’s locked down better than any place in the city. We’ve got people I trust there, and armored SUVs to transport you.”
“What about Banner and Logan?” Greer asks, holding up her phone. “They’re checked into a hotel in Jersey. They stashed the car at a garage with a guy Logan knows.”
“Tell them to stay put. Actually, tell them to stay the hell out of the city since they’re already out safely. We can worry about the car later.”
“What do you mean, since they’re already out safely? Can’t we leave safely too?” Greer’s voice takes on a panicky undertone.
“You know the game, Greer. We have to be smart. Watch our moves. Whoever shot up the restaurant might not have any problem coming back to finish whatever they were after.” This reply comes from Cav.
I’m thankful my half brother gets what’s going on. After all, he spent plenty of time growing up in this life, the life I never really wanted. But here I am, handing out orders like I’m Dom himself.
“Everyone in this waiting room is going to the brownstone. The club will be closed, but I’ll make sure Tanya arranges meals for everyone.”
“And then what?” Eden’s gaze bounces from me to the bearded, tattooed man beside her. “Because last time I had to go into hiding, I kind of ended up married and didn’t come home for a long while.”
While Eden and Bishop’s story is their own, I get what she’s saying.
“It won’t be indefinite. Just until we figure out who did this and how we’re going to handle them.” In the back of my mind, the name Rossetti is blaring, and while my instincts are usually pretty damn accurate, I want proof before I go off half-cocked like Enzo. I didn’t see them with my own eyes like Benny claimed he did.
Are they the most likely candidates? Absolutely.
Am I going to make the streets run red with the blood of innocents like they did? Absolutely fucking not.
Benny rises from his chair, his magazine tucked under his arm. “I’ll help you figure out exactly who needs to pay for this. Get me back to Dom’s, and I’ll dig up my old Rolodex of contacts and start asking questions.”
“Thanks, Benny, but you don’t have to get involved. You’re retired.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, kid. You don’t ever retire in this business. You just get less active. I’m ready. Put me to use.”
From beside me, Memphis whispers, “I’m really good at digging. You could say it’s my special skill. If there’s a laptop I can use at his place, I can get to work. Plus, I have a friend who can pull the camera footage of every shop on the street and get us a video of everything. I should’ve thought of it sooner. I was just—”
I wrap my arm around her and squeeze tighter. “We’ve been busy. It’s okay. Call in whatever favors you can, safely. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
I look away from her face to the others in the room. It’s a strange mix of people, some who understand the situation we’re in, and some who just think they do.
“Whoever has connections—call them in. Discreetly.”
“What about the cop who was on the scene? Should we be asking him for help?” Greer brings up Clinton Cole’s presence right after the shooting happened, and I could kick myself for not thinking of him first.
I reach up and scratch the back of my neck. “I’ll talk to him. No matter what happens next, no one else connected to this family gets hurt.”
Memphis, Eden, Bishop, Greer, Cav, and Benny left with Warren and Tempo to head to the brownstone. With nothing else to do but wait for another update about Dom, I stand in the doorway to Creighton’s room.
Holly sits beside his bed, holding his hand.
“He’s out again?” I ask, even though the rhythmic rise and fall of Creighton’s chest signal he’s asleep once more.
“Yeah. He talked for a bit, but then they gave him some more pain meds and he said he wanted to rest his eyes for a minute. I take that as code for sleeping.” A hopeful note underpins Holly’s tone, and it bolsters the optimism I’m feeling.
“The doc have anything more to say?”
“Just that he needs to take it easy so his body can fully heal.” Her eyes turn glassy, so I pull up a chair beside her.
“He’s going to be fine, Holly. You know he’s a fighter. Stubborn as hell. He’d never leave you and Rose if he could fight against it.”
She reaches out to squeeze the hand on my right knee, and I cover hers with my left. “I know, but I still hate seeing him like this.”
Creighton’s dark hair resting on the white pillow makes the infamous man almost seem mortal. Almost.
“And I’m sure he hates you seeing him like this. He’ll be back to normal in no time at all.”
“I feel helpless. What am I going to do?” Holly looks up at me, and this time big tears well in her eyes and slip free.
I lean in, wrap an arm around her shoulders, and pull her against me. “You’re going to sit here and give him a reason to fight. There’s not a damn thing in this world that man wouldn’t do for you. If seeing him like this makes you cry even a single tear, he’ll be better so damn fast, your head’s going to spin.”
“I hope you’re right, because I don’t think I could stand it if . . .”
“He’s going to be fine. Better than ever. He’ll never leave you.”
If I didn’t absolutely believe what I was saying, I wouldn’t have said it. Thankfully, it does the trick and Holly’s shaking shoulders still.
“Thank you, Cannon. I’m sorry that things between you have gone this way. I know it kills him too . . . he’s just so damn stubborn and proud.”
“I know. We both are. But there’s not a thing I wouldn’t do to have my best friend back. I never even got to tell him that he’s my brother. Dom wouldn’t let me.” I don’t know why I’m confessing this to Holly, but I have to get it out.
“I’m so sorry, Cannon. So sorry you both got caught up in something that wasn’t your idea.”
Her lack of surprise is exactly as I expected. She’s probably known about our shared parentage since moments after Creighton found out.
“I’m not sorry,” I tell her, watching Creighton for any sign of waking, but I see nothing. “I wouldn’t take back a single thing I did. It might’ve been Dom’s twisted idea, but it was the most important assignment of my life. I wouldn’t be the man I am today, if not for Crey. I owe Dom a thank-you, even if your husband wants my head.”
“Not . . . your head . . . exactly.” The rough words come from between Creighton’s lips.
Holly pops out of her chair. “Oh my God, you’re awake again. Thank God.” She tangles her fingers with his, and Creighton watches me.
“You should’ve told me what he made you do. I only fucking cared because you didn�
��t tell me yourself.”
A lead weight settles in my stomach, and even though I just said I wouldn’t take any of it back, I was wrong. There’s one piece I’d take back, and that’s the deception.
“You wouldn’t have trusted me if I’d told you,” I reply.
“You’re my brother. I’d trust you with my life.”
30
Memphis
There’s an extra laptop in Dom’s office. Marta will show you where it is. Tell me if you or your hacker friend find anything.
That’s the text I got from Cannon this morning after spending a sleepless night in one of the simple apartments inside Dom’s brownstone in Hell’s Kitchen, and how I found myself standing inside the office of the most notorious mobster in New York City. A gray-haired woman unlocks a cabinet and reveals a stack of laptop boxes. New laptop boxes. Like they just “fell off a truck” somewhere.
A tiny, instinctive part of me wishes she weren’t so efficient, because it’s killing the reporter in me not to be able to snoop. Then again, even if she left me alone in here right now, I couldn’t talk myself into doing it.
Because the Casso family isn’t my target now. No, it’s the Rossettis.
No one shoots at people I care about and gets away with it. I’ll do whatever I have to do to bring them down and get justice. Luckily, that happens to be something I’m very good at, despite the roadblocks I’ve run into with my father’s case. I haven’t forgotten about you, Dad. I promise.
“You just need one?” Marta asks, holding out the box.
“One, yes. Thank you,” I reply, taking it from her so she can relock the cabinet.
“I really hope he knows what he’s doing,” she adds, and I’m caught off guard.
“What do you mean?”
She turns around and gestures to the door. I take one step but wait for an answer.
“I mean that I hope Cannon knows how to step into the shoes he’s trying to fill, and understands the consequences that are going to go along with it. This isn’t a road he can untravel. I don’t think he fully appreciates what he’s taking over.”