The weekend before had been the marking of madness, a time of loss far greater than I could remember. My own mother had passed in the hospital with my younger brother, Drake, by her side four days earlier. My poor father had died many years before that day.
A sigh left me as I stood there, and I closed my eyes and drew comfort from Drake's visit a few days before as the memory of seeing him again assaulted me.
I let my head drop as I paced the floor just in front of the fireplace. My apartment was tucked away from everyone, and only Izzy knew where it was. Drake stood quietly from his place on the couch and walked over, reaching out and gripping my shoulders tightly.
Not only was our mother gone, but now Vivian Castaletta too. Fate was an ugly bitch with far too much time on her hands.
"Hey. We'll figure out who did it, D." Drake dropped his hands as I tugged away from him.
"No. I'll figure it out. This is my fucking problem. You can't get involved, or all hell's going to break loose." I shrugged and slumped down into a chair next to us, needing my space.
Getting Drake involved would make things so much better for me, but he had a new life, a new girl, a fresh start, and it had come at a price. After working so hard to tuck him away from Joe, I wasn't about to bring him back into the fray.
"Did you tell the girl where you were going?" I glanced up as my chest filled with hard emotion. Drake had been looking for the right woman since we were kids, and finally in Bar Harbor he'd found her. An Italian girl, Sicily, and she could bake like Mama used to. She was a beautiful girl to say the least. I'd warned him not to let the girl know about our past, our family, or our nefarious dealings. Unfortunately, lying meant leaving unanswered questions for those we loved the most.
"No, D. I did as you told me to. I'm sure she's pissed, but I'll deal with that later." Drake let out a long sigh. "Tell me what I can do to help you."
"Call Izabella, and tell her that I'm in love with her. Tell her to come over here and let me hold her. I know she's in pain, but..." I growled loudly and ran my fingers through my hair. "Fuck!"
"Stop being an idiot, and just tell Izabella how you feel. You lost Mama yesterday, and she lost hers too. Don't you think that both of you suffering such an incredible loss could bring you together completely?"
"Yeah, but is that what I really want for her? I'm stuck in this life. I'm praying that as she gets older she turns from it. I could tuck her away like I did you. She could find a good man to help her heal past all the shit she's seen. Fuck Joe for making her the enforcer of our syndicate. She's whoring herself out and hunting down the most horrible motherfuckers. All in the name of family." I let out another long sigh as my heart constricted painfully in my chest. I was ice cold toward everyone but Izabella. I wanted to be indifferent toward her, but she'd captured my heart and most of my soul by the time we were old enough to realize what was happening. I couldn't remember another woman in my life meaning anything thanks to her. "For the first time in a long time, I don't know what the fuck to do."
"Just be there for her, D. That's all you can do. You can't make Izzy's decisions for her. She's a grown woman and a vicious one, I might add."
I glanced up with a warning on my face. "Watch it."
"Fuck you. She's my sister. I'll say whatever the hell I want to." Drake lifted an eyebrow. The little bastard was challenging me. I loved it.
"You're right." I shrugged and glanced toward the clock. "I need to get back over to Joe's. Go back to your girl. Helping you find a real life is the only thing in my long life that I'm proud of."
Drake reached down and tugged me up, pulling me into a tight hug as he patted my back like Mom used to. "I'm sorry for taking you away from her. The damned day's mostly over."
"It's all right. I'll explain it to her."
"Protect Izzy, Drake. You know as well as I do that not everything that's buried stays dead. One day things might shift. You ready if they do?" I knew without a doubt that we'd face a day where Joe broke the silence over me helping my brother disappear from the syndicate. That was a day I'd have to decide who meant more: Joe or Drake.
"When they do?" Drake moved back and slid his hands into his jean pockets.
"Exactly."
"Not really, but who is prepared when their world blows up?"
"Not me. Obviously." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'll give you a ride to the airport."
"Nah. Call me a cab. You need to get back over to the Castaletta mansion where you belong. Just treat Izzy like a sister and love on her without expecting anything back in return." Drake walked toward the door but paused to glance over his shoulder. "Be safe, Bro."
"Yeah. Love you." I nodded and picked up the phone.
"Same. Watch your back since I'm not here to do it."
"No, you're not here to do it, are you, you bastard?" I brushed my fingers over my lips and looked around at my syndicate family, which including some of my own blood-kin.
My older sister and cousin were sitting together near the back of the grassy hill where a large black tarp covered everyone at the service. The Castaletta family, both those involved in the syndicate and those from, afar sat quietly, the women crying and the men simply staring at their hands or perhaps their shiny shoes, most likely hoping that the heartache might soon be over.
I scanned the crowd again for Izzy, needing to check on my favorite obsession.
There. My stomach constricted as warmth raced through me. She had no clue just how lost to her I was. Nor would she ever.
Her long, dark chestnut hair held a soft curl, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying too many tears. How she was capable of being so damn beautiful in the midst of her despair, I would never know.
I shifted uncomfortably, removing my gaze from her and trying to focus on the preacher before my thoughts took me to places I'd be mortified to go to in the middle of a funeral. She needed comfort, and I couldn't stop thinking about how well I could provide a reprieve for her.
The preacher man spoke some words from the good book and then asked Joe if he would like to say a few words. The Don stood and walked with his slight limp to the head of the casket, taking his time. His salt and pepper hair moved from the force of the wind that kicked up as he placed his worn hands on the shiny wood and paused. He looked down at the box that held his beloved Vivian and smiled as if they were having a conversation all to themselves. His words were few, but they held the depths of who I understood the man to be. He was always touting three things to anyone who would listen.
Family. Money. Love. Today would be no different.
"There are only a few things in life that have the right or ability to lift you to the highest of peaks and then in the next moment kick you in the gut and slam you into the hardness of the ground: Family. Money. Love. I'd have to say that for me, Vivian was my heart, the reason I got up some mornings when it was just too damn hard, ya know?" He looked up, and everyone nodded and mumbled in agreement.
I caught my old friend’s eye and held the stare to assure him that he wasn't alone in that moment. Joe had been in my life for as long as I could remember. My father, Papa Big, had grown up with Joe, and the two were like brothers, leaving me to accept the protection of Don Castaletta when my dad died.
No one would hurt for Vivian's death more than Joe, and yet we all would feel the weight of it. Izzy, Marco, and Freddy sat huddled together on the front row, their mother’s passing and their father's heaviness clearly weighing on them.
"Vivian will be missed by me and I know by all of you. She gave me three beautiful children and helped me raise them to be every fucking thing we thought they outta be, and they are. She was kind and gentle, loving and mean like a snake when she needed to be."
More mumbles went around, and a soft laugh bubbled up in the crowd.
Joe smiled and nodded at everyone. "If today had just been about the passing of a beautiful woman, then we'd celebrate, but it's not. It's about someone in this fucking city thinking they have the right to
steal our crown jewel. It's about someone thinking that they can come into my house and take from me the one thing that belonged to me alone."
The emotion that flowed freely was anger, and the priest backed up a little. Joe was known for being the most generous of bastards in the city—and yet the most deadly.
A time of retribution and retaliation was coming.
When we had the ability to pinpoint who was going to suffer for what was done to Vivian, it was going to be a bloodbath. Joe placed his hand on the casket again as the rain shifted and sprayed him. He looked fierce and ready to take on the whole damned city if necessary, but his expression only mimicked the battle cry we all felt deep inside for justice to be served swiftly.
"We will find them, baby. We'll find them, and I'll kill every last motherfucker that was involved. Before I join you in the ground, we will avenge your death."
"Yeah!" one of the syndicate brothers yelled from the back row, a few others joining in.
Joe looked up at everyone and nodded. "Yeah."
They all yelled their agreement but me. I was far too lost in my thoughts. How someone could be ballsy enough to hit Don Joseph Castaletta, a name that shook fear across the United States and half of the countries we dealt with overseas, was beyond me. It was almost unbelievable, and yet there we stood, burying our matriarch.
I glanced up to Joe's dark green eyes boring into me. A look of question stained his aging face.
A simple nod added my agreement to the Don's statement. There would be no one else at the front of the search for Vivian's killers outside of me, Joe, and Izzy, and everyone gathered to say goodbye knew it.
Chapter 2
Demetri
The rest of the funeral was a blur. The priest tried to bring in a little more about the Lord into the mix, but I had already had my fill. A hole in the ground was the only rest and reprieve I expected after the life I had chosen to live.
I walked away from the crowd and moved along the dirt-covered tombstones as the rain lightly misted from above. I tried to work through the various enemies we had made over the years, finding the list much longer than I had anticipated. But we weren't just looking for a casual enemy or a rival syndicate. Whoever took Vivian's life had to have tracked her to know exactly where she would be, and that Joe wouldn't be beside her.
The fuckers knew what they were asking for. It was a death wish of the most daring kind — to rape and kill a mobster's wife in cold blood.
Joe would grieve today with his family and his kids, but I knew damn good and well that tomorrow he would be on the war path. Nothing would stop him or the rest of the syndicate until this mystery was solved and vengeance was ours.
I turned my head at the sound of footsteps. The leaves lay scattered along the ground from the long winter, giving the scene more color than any of us wanted in the midst of our suffering.
Tugging my black leather bomber closer, I offered a sad smile as I laid eyes on Izabella. Her long dark purple coat hid the black dress she'd had me zip up that morning. Every cell in my body woke up standing in the bedroom behind her, and it was all I could do not to slide the dress off her shoulders and help her forget everything.
I opened my arms to her in a brotherly fashion and lifted my head, beckoning her to come to me.
She walked slowly, her head down, but sea-green eyes cast toward me. Her silky raven-colored hair cascaded around her shoulders and danced along the curve of her breasts. She was a picture of blissful innocence, which didn't belong at all to the sensual vixen who stopped short of reaching me.
We spent all of our time fighting one another, but for that day, for that moment, I would relent and be anything she needed me to be to help her find peace.
I took another step toward her and wrapped her in my arms, leaning down and kissing the top of her head as the smell of her skin tugged at desire deep inside of me. I'd spoken my condolences to her that morning back at the mansion and held her while she cried. I didn't need to speak them again. We were both hurting, and the simplicity of allowing a hug between us was enough. It was more than either of us had offered the other in far too long. I almost couldn't remember why we were so determined to keep ourselves at arm’s length. Seemed futile in the midst of our shared loss.
"I still can't believe this is happening," she whispered against my chest as I brushed her hair back and tightened my hold on her.
"I honestly can't either. We'll find out who did it, Izzy. Don't you worry at all about that."
She laughed sardonically and pulled back, the look on her face quickly reminding me that her innocence was simply a facade that worked increasingly well to get what she wanted. "I'm not worried at all. I plan to find him before any of you do, and then I'm going to make him suffer far more than I do today."
I lifted an eyebrow and gave a smug look. It would be agony to suffer by her hands on a good day, but now? Fuck no. I almost felt sorry for the bastard that killed Vivian simply because nothing caused more pain than a woman scorned. Izabella was far beyond the simple emotion of scorn, which left the recipient of her attack on the wrong end of the battle. It was going to be bad if Joe caught up to him, but if Izabella happened to first...
"What are you thinking?" she asked, pulling me from my thoughts as she backed up a little and pressed her back to a tall pine tree behind her.
The shape of her figure couldn't help but beckon my attention, even through the confines of the large coat she wore. Her long sculpted legs crossed at the ankle, her two-inch heels professional and still sexy as hell. I'd seen what was under the coat a few times in my life, and I'd have paid a lot for the freedom to demand seeing it again.
I gave myself the pleasure of a quick glance across the length of her. Beautiful didn't even began to capture her.
I shifted my eyes up toward hers and found her staring back with no emotion to be found. Cold. Empty. The perfect killing machine.
"I was almost feeling sorry for the bastard that killed your mom. If you get to him first, it's going to be way worse than if Joe or I do." I licked my lips absently and ran my hands down the front of my suit jacket.
"Why? Because I loved Mama more?" Her eyes followed my tongue closely.
"I wouldn't doubt your love for your mom, but I was thinking because we would just shoot him point blank, but I'm pretty sure you'd make him suffer long and hard for what he did."
"Long and hard. Sounds like my kind of date." She shrugged and stood up, stretching a little and turning to walk back toward her family. "Actually, I could use something to get my mind off of things. Long and hard will do perfectly."
A soft chuckle lifted from me as I shook my head. I had something long and hard she could take her time enjoying. It was more than ready to get her mind off of any and everything that might plague her, but it wasn't happening. The last time we let passion pull us into depravity, neither of us had wanted to come up for air. It was a dangerous place to be with so many people working to take your life.
Besides, we were too much like family, and no matter how much we might pine for each other, we kept it to ourselves. We would tease one another for the rest of eternity with the heat of what could be between us, but nothing more.
"Wear yourself out, Izzy."
She walked toward her father, and Joe opened his arms to her as they shared a long hug.
Freddy and Marco stood over to the side, looking sullen.
Marco caught my attention and motioned for me to join them. The oldest boy of the Castaletta crew, Marco was Joe's Consigliere, the guy that made sure all the business shit was in order. I was Joe's underboss, the guy in charge of everyone else.
There had been a good handful of years that Marco had been second in command, but after figuring out that he hated people, he switched positions to focus more on paperwork and managing Joe's affairs.
Freddy was the youngest Castaletta and the capo for our narcotics ring. Too bad the little punk ass smoked as much as he sold. His greasy appearance and glassy eyes made it eas
y to tell that he was a doper and had been for a long time.
"I think we should let things go for today. Tomorrow we get started again on trying to figure out who did this shit," Marco spoke slowly, his drawl lackadaisical, as was his way of doing things in life.
"Fuck that. I say we get in the car now and go figure out what the fuck happened to Mama." Freddy sniffled, his eyes red and puffy—from sadness or drugs, perhaps a combination of the two.
"Freddy. I don't think that's a good idea with the family here. We need to be with everyone, and you need time to grieve," Marco spoke softly, reaching out to touch the younger man on the shoulder.
"No, I'm with him. We need to get on this. It's been four days since Vivian was murdered." Everyone flinched as I spoke the words no one wanted to say. The Don's wife hadn't simply died, and she hadn't passed — she’d been raped and murdered in cold blood. Someone had gunned her down and taken her life not because she wore pretty clothes or had a nice purse but simply because of who she was.
"And we've been looking for four damned days and haven't found shit, have we?" Marco retorted, his face flushing a little. He touched his finger to his head and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
"It's all good." I looked over to see where Izzy and the rest of the crew were, glad that they weren't around to witness the backbone of the organization falling apart. "You go with the family, and Freddy and I will go look at a few more things that I wanted to check out at the crime scene. Today's Election Day downtown. There ain't no damned way the cops will be on site today. I just want more time to look for anything we can find. I'm sure the boys in blue swept the place half-assed like they do everything."
"I think Freddy should come home with me. His mother was buried today. I don't think he's stable enough to deal with anything that you might uncover." Marco moved his hand from Freddy and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm fucking right here. I'm going. You aren't my daddy, so back off me."
Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel) Page 80