by Coralee June
“I...I killed Gerald Taylor,” Rachel’s voice rasped.
It was finally hitting her; the reality of her crime was sinking into her bones, and I realized that in the end, I’d finally become my father. I’d be the reason she had to live with the shit she’d done for the rest of her life. She shouldn’t have had to do it. I should’ve had the strength to end the bastard myself, but I hadn’t. She’d saved me.
“Okay, baby. Okay,” Rocco said before wrapping her up in a hug, squeezing her tightly before taking in the sight of Forty-One on the floor.
“I’m still Forty-One, it seems. Godfrey there got to kill Eddie. I’d already ordered new business cards and everything,” he sulked.
I shook my head at him. What the fuck kind of person could take all this shit so nonchalantly?
“I’m not paying you a dime,” Rocco said through gritted teeth. It always came back to money. Spinning around to me, he took in the bruise forming on my face and the sad look on my face. I knew he was thinking the same as I was, and the sirens were getting closer. It wouldn’t be long now. He had to get out of here with Rachel. The law wouldn’t go easy on a counterfeiter and a gangster’s princess.
“Right,” Rocco said before squeezing his daughter one last time. “You need to leave, baby.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. Rocco had been well-meaning but still selfish this entire journey. “What?” Rachel asked before pulling away. She wiped a stray tear from her eyes and took in the sight of her father. “What do you mean?”
Rocco gave her a half smile, though the effect was dulled by his swelling, bruised face. “Baby, you have to leave. If I say I did this, no one will bat an eye. I’ve had the feds breathing down my neck for years. It was no secret that the Macon Mob had it out for me and my men. This is a gang war, and Gerald Taylor got caught in the crosshairs. It’s the only way.”
“No, no, no. You can’t,” Rachel said, her voice rising in volume as she grew hysterical. “They’ll arrest you! Let’s all just go!”
“They’ll just track me down, and I’m not going to run. I won’t put you through that. This is my warehouse. Those are my men outside, and there’s blood everywhere. There’s no other way.”
I stood up and made my way over to Rachel. She was tugging on her father’s arm, desperate to get him out of there, but the stubborn man didn’t move. “I have to do this. I love you, Rachel. I’ve fucked up a lot, but it’s my time to do right by you.” Rocco slipped his hand on her waist and pulled the gun from her, holding it firmly in his hand. He had the murder weapon. The setting. The motive. Every last puzzle piece was clicking into place.
Once I was beside her, I grabbed her by the waist. We didn’t have long now, the sirens were right at our door. We’d established an escape route, so I had to get her out the hidden door at the back and to the off-roading vehicle we’d setup to escape through the woods behind Rocco’s warehouse.
“No, I can’t leave you, Dad,” she sobbed as I pulled her. Rocco’s eyes went misty as he took a step back, distancing himself.
“Get her out of here, Godfrey. Protect my girl.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied before leaning down and picking her up. She thrashed, desperate to stay with her dad as Forty-One staggered to the door too, cradling his arm as I dragged her out. She tried screaming, a last ditch effort at staying, forcing me to put a hand over her mouth. I knew she’d probably hate me for this later, but it was the only way. I was selfish enough to let her dad take the fall. I cared too damn much to let this go any other way.
We pulled her outside, and I took a quick second to look back at Rocco Nomar. It felt like an eternity. He stood there like a statue, relief filling him at the sight of his daughter being taken to safety. I could count on one hand the number of men I respected, and in that moment, I added him to the short list.
Rachel was sobbing by the time we made it to the Jeep parked in the shadows outside. I had to cradle her against my chest to keep her from running back inside. Flashing blue and red lights could be seen through the thick trees, casting light around us. We had to leave now, before the building was surrounded. More sirens could be heard in the distance, the entire damn Savannah unit would be here for this. While Forty-One used his uninjured hand to open the passenger door, I clutched her tightly, stealing whatever contact I could. I didn’t know if we’d come back from this, but I couldn’t have it any other way.
Setting her in the car, I quickly buckled her in before getting into the driver’s seat. I peeled out of there as quickly and quietly as I could, following the predetermined route as the girl I loved crumbled before my eyes.
“I’ll get him out of this, Rachel,” I promised, though I didn’t actually know if I could. But I’d do whatever it took. I had to make this right.
Trees scraped against the windows as I drove. Dirt and gravel crunched beneath the wheels, and we all stayed quiet. The only other sounds I could hear were Rachel’s sobs. We’d planned to go to a safe house originally, but I didn’t know if it was actually safe. Pretty soon, Rocco’s operations would all dissolve. He wasn’t just giving up his freedom; he was giving up his crime syndicate, too. Within hours, there would be search warrants and police flooding all of his properties.
The moment my tires hit pavement, I increased my speed, heading towards Rogue Kelly’s estate. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was a little after midnight, so their party would be in full swing. Showing up now would be a good alibi should Rachel be pulled in for questioning. We needed to show where we were. Bonham even staged photos with us and posted them on social media to solidify our alibi.
A sob wrenched out of her again, her eyes squeezed shut in pain as I roared down the streets of Savannah. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to wrap her up in a hug and promise her that it would all be okay. But I knew that what had happened in that warehouse would haunt her for a long time.
As soon as we parked in front of Rogue’s, I pulled Rachel out of the car, and Forty-One hopped into the driver’s seat. He leaned over and pecked Rachel on the cheek, his lips coming away wet from her tears. “We can still bury the bastard in a coffin full of cum. Just say the word, and it’s done.”
I cringed at the visual, but he made my girl smile, and that was what mattered. “Thanks, Forty-One,” she whispered as I pulled her toward the back of the house.
I took her through the side door that led to the library, which Rogue had left open just for us. We passed a crowd of people on our way up the stairs, and I swiped a solo cup to hold as I kept my arm slung around her waist and plastered a fake, easy grin on my face. People greeted us, looking at our disheveled appearance and no doubt putting together their own sordid conclusions about what we’d been doing in the locked library.
Rachel kept her face down and her cheek pressed against my chest, so I pressed a kiss to her temple and nodded at people as we made our way to my borrowed bedroom. When we were safely behind the closed door, I took Rachel into the bathroom and started to fill the tub. She stood numbly as I stripped off her clothes, catching the droplets of blood stained on her. I ripped mine off too, glad that we’d had the foresight to dress in dark colors so no one had noticed the carnage on us.
Carefully, I helped her step into the tub, and then I sat down behind her, bringing her back to rest against my chest. We stayed cocooned in the water, with our heavy silence and our completed retribution. The game board was empty. We’d made our final play. And despite every messy, terrifying move, we’d won.
Victory was bittersweet.
Chapter Forty
Godfrey
I didn’t show up at Judge Palmisano’s office this time. I went straight to his house, opened the door, using the key I knew was hiding under a painted rock, and let myself inside. The entire mansion smelled like Stephanie’s perfume and made me grimace at the stench. I didn’t particularly like being here, but I did like catching the judge off guard. Bonham promised me that he would be home tonight. He’d been tracking him for a few nights.
>
“Hey, Judge!” I called out before knocking on his office door, not bothering to wait for his answer. I simply turned the handle and let myself inside, choking on the smell of cologne and fried chicken as I took in the sight of him sleeping in his leather chair with his chin pressed against his chest. Rumor had it, he’d been kicked out of the bedroom. Apparently, he came home with a lovely case of chlamydia, and the missus all but kicked him out. Savannah, Georgia, needed a culling; all the old blood of this place was toxic sludge threatening to spread if we didn’t hold it back.
I waltzed over to his slumbering, bulky body and wrinkled my nose at the half-eaten pastrami sandwich left over on his desk. He looked at peace while he snored, so completely unaware that I was about to turn his fucking world on its head. Grabbing the switchblade that I borrowed from Luis, I shoved up his chin and held the blade against his jugular.
“Good morning, asshole,” I said.
He sputtered and jolted, the blade cutting into his skin just enough to make him freeze. “Godfrey? What...what is the meaning of this?” he hissed as the smell of urine filled my nose. As if this house didn’t already smell bad enough.
“Did you just piss yourself?” I drawled. Fucking coward. I cocked my head to the side and observed a large bead of sweat dripping down his neck.
His beady eyes dropped down to the blade in my hand and looked to see how far away his phone was. I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do that,” I warned. Propping my hip against the desk, I let the blade cut in just a little bit more, and he strained against the back of his chair. “How’s the family?” I asked.
Admittedly, it was a bit risky coming here. We’d had the feds breathing down our necks since the murder. Some of the evidence didn’t add up, but they didn’t have shit, thanks to an ironclad alibi and our namesake. Our money didn’t hurt either. No one dared to fuck with the Heirs, and no one was really sad to see Eddie and Gerald Taylor gone. Even my sister and mother were relieved, despite the black clothes they’d worn to his funeral.
“Why are you here? Your father’s dead, and Rocco Nomar took the fall. Seems you got exactly what you wanted.”
Not quite. Princess didn’t blame me for what had happened. She’d even promised she’d do it all again. But she missed her dad. She felt guilty that he was behind bars, and the solution came to me last night, clear as crystal. “Not exactly what I wanted,” I said while pressing the tip of the blade closer. “I want Rocco free.”
Judge Palmisano’s eyes widened. The window off to the right let a blade of light flash through the blinds as a car on the street drove by, revealing his leery expression. “Rocco had the odds stacked against him. When he goes to trial, he’s got a life sentence ahead of him.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not going to work for me. His hearing is in a month. You and I both know that evidence appears and disappears all the time. You also know that you can swing an accusation to fit your needs. He was defending himself. You saw that gruesome scene.”
I knew damn well that Judge Palmisano was good at spinning a crime; it was why he’d worked so well with my father.
Palmisano started to shake his head but stopped immediately when he felt his skin scrape against the blade. “This was a very public murder, Taylor. Not even your clean up crew could come up with the means to cover this one up. I could maybe give him a lighter sentence. Maybe. But there’s no way in hell I’d get him completely off. It’s just not possible.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You can, and you will. Stephanie is upstairs in her room this very second. Maybe I should call her down here and let her know just how much of a terrible fucking human being her father is.”
That threat seemed to hit home, because his pudgy fingers trembled as he gripped his belt. I pulled the knife back while straightening my spine, allowing him a moment to breathe before doing what I had to do next.
“Don’t tell her, please. There has to be something else you’re willing to settle for.”
“You’re going to say Rocco was defending himself. You’re going to spin it so that an innocent man got caught up in a tragic gang fight and clawed his way out. You’re going to make the entire damn city feel sorry for Rocco Nomar, then you’re going to get him off the hook.”
“He was manufacturing counterfeit money! Even if the evidence was lost for the murder, he’s still looking at hard time for the cash. There’s no way out of that.”
I smirked. “Are you sure about that? I bet if you search Beau Boedecker’s apartment, you’ll find out that he was the real man running those operations. Call in the warrant, Judge.”
I’d planted all the evidence I could in that sorry fucker’s apartment last night, as well as burned the dozens of crumpled photos I’d found of Rachel. The asshole was a creepy fucker, and my only regret in all of this was that I didn’t kill him that day in the kitchen. “You know the Boedeckers, right? They run that famous biker gang in Atlanta. Feds will be pissing themselves at the opportunity to shut them down. You’d be a national hero, Judge.”
I was playing to Palmisano’s greed. I knew he craved validation and heroism. He wanted the world to kiss his feet. I watched the gears turning in his head and knew he was going to agree with my plan before he did. The last thing he wanted was for his own messy murder to get out, and that, combined with the opportunity for getting credit for bringing down a notorious biker gang was like a drug to him. Everyone had their vices. Princess was mine.
“Fine. I can’t push up the date, though. And I can’t promise not to give him at least a year behind bars.”
I scowled. That wasn’t good enough, but it was better than ninety-nine to life. “Do your best, Judge. I’d hate to see what happens if you fail me. You’d have your ass handed to you in prison, hanging with all the men you put behind bars. Chlamydia will be the least of your worries.”
He turned an even deeper shade of red at the dirty secret spilling from my lips. I knew it all, and I could ruin him with a whisper. I was a fucking Heir.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But you destroy my evidence. After this, we’re even.”
“Deal.”
I took a step back, finally lowering the blade, and he sighed in relief and brought up his hand to swipe the blood away from his neck. “You should clean the piss from your pants, Judge. That shit isn’t sanitary.” I snapped the switchblade closed and gave him a nod. “See you soon.”
I walked out of the Palmisano’s house and back to my car, seeing Rachel was there, waiting in the passenger seat where I’d left her. I settled behind the wheel and turned to look at her. She looked fucking beautiful, pale blonde hair dancing in the shadows, swollen lips from the kisses I’d given her before coming here. I’d made it my sole purpose to worship every fucking perfect inch of her, to comfort her while we figured out how to save her dad.
“Think it will work?” she asked in a small voice while reaching to turn the AC on. At the blast of cool air, her scent enveloped me, and my mouth watered. “Thank fuck you don’t smell like pastrami or Palmisanos.”
She laughed. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “But yeah, I think it’ll work. He can’t completely get your dad off, but he said something about a year instead of life. Beau will take the fall for the counterfeit business.”
She let out a breath of relief and then leaned over the center console to kiss me. My mouth instantly responded, and I lapped her up, snaking my tongue out to taste her. She was sweet and sad. She was acidic and exhilarating.
She was mine.
I cupped her breast and smiled against her when she shuddered at the touch, shivers of pleasure making the moment too sweet to ignore. “I love you,” she whispered before reaching down to massage my growing dick over my pants. But I didn’t want it like this, didn’t want her in Palmisano’s driveway, which was odd, considering I usually wanted her everywhere I could get her. I’d once pushed her buttons about addiction, but I was the one that needed a hit now. I was addicted to her. She was in my veins, my bl
ood, my soul, and my words. She was everything to me.
“Let’s go home, princess,” I whispered.
She relented with a sulky whimper, pulling away and adjusting her black crop top. “What now?” she whispered.
It seemed like now that the game was over, we didn’t know what quite to do. We’d been fighting to win for so long we didn’t know how to react now that the hands had all been played and the chips were cleared away.
“Now? Now I love you for the rest of my fucking life,” I replied before putting the car in drive.
Epilogue
Rachel
“Not a chance in hell, God.”
He smirked at me, knowing full well what his grin did to me. He was leaning against the doorframe, looking hot as sin, his skin even tanner than usual from our days spent in the sun. Forty-One may not have done the hit job, but he surprised me with that beach vacation we’d talked about when we first met. It was our “homicide holiday,” as he liked to call it.
I held up the white bathing suit with playing cards all over it while giving him a sardonic look. The term bathing suit was too generous. It was more strings than actual bikini. “I’m not wearing this.”
“Oh, come on, princess. I picked it out special for you. Besides, we’re on a private island.”
I laughed and tossed it at his face before moving to the dresser and grabbing my black bikini that actually covered all my bits. “Yeah, a private island with your friends, Forty-One, and hell, even your sister!”
He chuckled and tossed the poker bikini onto the bed. “Good point. You can wear it later. I want to be the only one to see you in it.”