Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War #4)

by Bethany-Kris

  Tommas slid into the passenger side of his Jaguar F-Type. “I prefer this car, anyway.”

  “It’s not—”

  “Safe,” Tommas interrupted the enforcer. “Yeah, I got it. Until I can have the Mercedes replaced in a couple of weeks, this will have to do.”

  “Don’t get your fucking panties in a twist because you know this car makes you a goddamn vulnerability.”

  “Lay off, Nate. I’ve got a massive headache and you’re not helping it.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  As much as Tommas liked his main enforcer, who also acted as his driver in the daytime, he was not in the mood for another discussion about what he should or shouldn’t be doing.

  Quietly, Nate asked, “What did the doctors say?”

  “Bad concussion.”

  “That all?”

  “And a cracked rib, some internal bruising on my liver and right kidney, but that’s it.”

  “No drinking, I guess.”

  Tommas chuckled. It hurt like hell, but it felt good, too. Leaning back in the comfortable leather seat and enjoying the heat warming his back, Tommas closed his eyes and wrapped his arm around his chest to give the injured rib a bit of support.

  Anything was better than nothing.

  “No drinking,” he agreed. “My liver won’t take it right now.”

  “You’re one lucky son of a bitch, Tommas.”

  “Thanks.” Tommas looked Nate over. “Did you grab me a clean suit from my house?”

  “Yeah, boss. It’s in the trunk.”

  Nate frowned, his hands tightening on the wheel like he was thinking about something. Tommas would recognize that nervous action in his enforcer on any day of the week. He and Nate had been friends for years, way back when Nate was just a street kid trying to keep his head above water and Tommas was still learning the streets.

  Tommas trusted Nate more than most people in his life.

  “Spit it out,” Tommas demanded.

  “I’m sorry, boss.”

  Tommas’ eyes popped open. “I wasn’t expecting that. What are you sorry for?”

  “Last night—I asked for it off. If I had been around, nobody would have messed with your car.”

  “Nate, you have a life. I should have known better than to leave my car unattended like that for hours out in the club parking lot. It had been way too quiet. It was a stupid move on my part that had little to do with you taking the night off to spend the evening with your kid.”

  Nate nodded. “I know, but—”

  “But nothing. You only get your daughter a couple of days a month. And a club isn’t the kind of place for you to be bringing her. I should have had someone else keeping an eye on my car. Shit, had I parked it in the front lot, I would have caught whoever it was on camera.”

  “Did you get anyone to check the cameras?” Nate asked.

  “Damian went into the system this morning online. The cops took the hardcopies. There was nothing to see. Whoever it was probably went in through the back alley, came up to the car from the other side, tricked the alarm with a wireless program, and set the bomb.”

  Easy fucking pickings. Tommas had set himself up perfectly for that goddamn bomb. The more he thought about it, the more agitated it made him.

  Thankfully, the cameras outside of his club were not positioned in the back where Abriella had come in, and the ones inside were strategically placed as well. Abriella knew the black zones.

  “Is it really a whoever kind of situation?” Nate asked.

  Tommas kept his expression a blank mask. “No. We know who did it.”

  “Joel.”

  “Joel,” Tommas confirmed. “He even had people at the hospital trying to get info, he put word on the street wanting to know if the Rossi Capo was down and out, and he went about his morning like nothing was amiss.”

  Which apparently included taking Abriella and Alessa to breakfast. Yes, Tommas had people watching. He also knew where Joel had gone after breakfast.

  Nate took a corner a little too sharply for Tommas’ injured rib. Cussing low, Tommas smacked his enforcer as hard as he could.

  “Slower, asshole.”

  “Sorry, boss.”

  Tommas grunted as he resituated his frame in the seat. “Speaking of Joel.”

  “What about him?”

  “I have something to do today that involves him. I need you to take me. I’m not supposed to drive, and I want to get this done before I go home and pop my painkillers.”

  “Whatever you want, boss,” Nate said.

  “Church,” Tommas replied. “I want to go to the church.”

  “What does that have to do with Joel?”

  “Every Saturday afternoon he goes to church. Confession, that sort of thing. It’s a habit I’ve never known Joel to break. If he wants to start playing games, I’m good with that.”

  Not that it mattered, Tommas thought.

  Not even God would save Joel, now. Tommas just had to bide his time, make his moves carefully, and strike when Joel was at his weakest.

  “Is that how you see almost getting killed by a bomb, as a game?” Nate asked, not sounding the least bit amused.

  “No, but that’s how Joel sees it. To win the game, you’ve got to play it.”

  And play it well.

  Tommas carefully buttoned the cuffs of his clean suit jacket. Too much movement caused him a great deal of pain, and he didn’t want to show just how much agony he was actually in. The more pain he felt, the dizzier he became. The last thing he wanted to do was end up back in the hospital because he had a goddamn spell. At least, he didn’t want to end up back at the hospital before he got one thing done.

  Tommas had quickly changed in the Jaguar while Nate had a cigarette a couple of blocks away from the church. The first thing that Tommas had noticed when they pulled into the familiar parking lot were the two cars parked close to the front steps.

  Joel’s and his enforcer’s car.

  Tommas hadn’t even gotten out of his car before the Trentini enforcer had pulled out a cell phone. By the time the guy was talking into his phone, Tommas had already climbed the steps and entered the church. Knowing what he did about Joel’s routine when it came to church and confession, Tommas planned on using it to his benefit. Joel rarely used the confessional room like the other parishioners did. Instead, the man liked to have his chat one-on-one with the priest while sitting in a pew.

  Tommas never understood Joel’s need to confess his sins. The man had no intention of changing his behavior or ways. But who was Tommas to judge? He had no intention of changing, either.

  Taking another breath to will away the dull ache in his chest from his cracked rib, Tommas pushed the main doors open to walk into the church hall. Bright light filtered in through the stained glass windows, bathing the floor and pews in a rainbow of colors.

  Instantly, the sight made Tommas light-headed. He’d been instructed to avoid bright lights, a lot of movement or noise, and to have someone close by to monitor his physical state for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours.

  This was not helping his migraine.

  Ignoring the nauseating sensation settling in his stomach, Tommas strolled down the middle of the aisle between the pews. He found the man he was looking for at the very front, sitting alone. Making sure to be heard as he rounded the last few rows, Tommas cleared his throat. Joel didn’t turn around at the sound of Tommas’ approach.

  “Afternoon, old friend,” Joel said quietly.

  Tommas sat in the pew directly beside Joel’s. The moment he was sitting, he felt better and not so unsteady like before. “Where is the priest? I wasn’t aware confession could be done alone.”

  “I’m supposed to be doing my penance.”

  “Ah.”

  “It’s a little stupid for you to come here, don’t you think?” Joel asked. “I could have you killed before you even left the parking lot.”

  Tommas hummed a dismissive tune. “No. You see, Nate is outside. He’s watc
hing your man. I’m not concerned.”

  “You never are.”

  “Well, I try not to be.”

  Joel glanced to the side, likely taking in Tommas’ appearance. “At least you’re not dead. I didn’t hurt you too badly, huh?”

  “Water under the bridge, Joel.”

  “Funny.”

  Tommas smiled. “You know how it is.”

  “I know you think you want to be the boss because you believe you’re the only man left in the Outfit good enough to fill the seat, but you’re wrong. You could just give me the seat and save us a lot of problems, Tommas.”

  “The same could be said for you.”

  “It’s not yours.”

  Tommas chuckled dully. “It’s just as much mine as it is yours, Joel. You have no more or less of a claim to the boss’s seat than I do. The one difference between you and I is the fact that you believe it is a birthright and I understand that is it earned. You wanted it handed to you, like everything else in your life has been, while I want it because I have earned it.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Everything that you couldn’t,” Tommas said simply.

  Joel straightened in the pew, glaring straight ahead.

  Ouch.

  An angry Trentini was a dirty one.

  “Hit a nerve, did I?” Tommas asked.

  “You know nothing,” Joel snapped.

  “I know your temper and your lack of control will kill you someday. I know if someone else doesn’t do it soon, it will eventually happen, Joel. You’re not worthy of this spot. You simply want it because of your blood and not because it’s who you are.”

  “My blood makes it who I am, Tommas.”

  “A father does not make his son, Joel.”

  Joel released a harsh breath. “What do you even want to be a boss for? You’re a Capo. It’s all you’ve ever been. It’s all you’re ever going to be, just like your father.”

  Tommas let those words roll off his shoulders. Joel was only showing his stripes, like every tiger eventually did. Or rather, like a child being denied what they wanted. Joel’s temper tantrums were always quick to show.

  It wasn’t a shock.

  “Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I spent far more time being raised by every other man in the Outfit besides my father,” Tommas replied calmly, pretending like his head didn’t feel as if it was going to explode. “I’ll offer you the same thing you gave to me, Joel, and nothing more. Let me take the seat with no issues, and save us a lot of problems in the process. You know the Outfit won’t give it to you unless you force them into it. For me, however, they’ll hand it over willingly.”

  Tommas was lying through his teeth. No matter what, Joel would have to go. His life would end by Tommas’ hand. It was simply a matter of when. But for the sake of everyone else, Tommas wanted to make that happen as cleanly and easily as possible.

  “It’s an easy choice to make, Joel,” Tommas added.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “You know I’m not.”

  Joel’s jaw clenched and his fists balled tightly at his sides. “You—”

  “I won’t discuss or argue this with you, Joel. I’ve given you my offer and that is that. You’ll either hand me what I want, or I will take it by whatever means necessary.”

  Tommas stood from the pew, ignoring how his vision swam when he was upright once again.

  Joel stared up at him, hatred brimming in his eyes. “Good luck.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t need it.”

  “I nearly got you this time, Tommas. You didn’t even see me coming.”

  Tommas smirked. “I learn fast.”

  Joel nodded. “Until the next time.”

  Clearly, this was the way that Joel wanted it to go. Bloodstained until the very bitter end. Tommas didn’t mind. He liked a little blood.

  Turning to leave, Tommas said, “Hand it over, Joel, and make it easy on everyone. You know how this is going to end.”

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  “Then allow me to enlighten you. Once I step outside of this church, you are a dead man walking. The bomb was a nice little wakeup call. I needed it. But if there is a next time, if you really want to play this game with me, I will slaughter you, Joel. And I will fucking enjoy every single last second of it.”

  Joel didn’t look back as Tommas walked back down the aisle.

  It didn’t matter.

  His words were still heard.

  Loud and clear.

  Tommas barely got the passenger door to the Jaguar closed without falling over. He bent over at the knees and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, willing away the vomit that had suddenly rose in his throat.

  “Boss?” Nate asked cautiously.

  “Drive,” Tommas croaked.

  “What?”

  “Drive!”

  The car lurched forward, and Tommas threw out a hand to catch himself from falling over in the seat. It had taken all the willpower he had to keep from vomiting inside the church when his migraine only seemed to get worse. Then, as he was walking out, the dizziness and nausea had returned with a vengeance.

  “Jesus,” Tommas mumbled, pushing against his temples to take some of the edge off.

  “You okay?”

  No.

  Tommas tried to check where their current position was, but the sight of the buildings flying by them was enough to send bile spilling into his mouth.

  “Pull over,” Tommas said hoarsely.

  Nate jerked the car hard to the right. Tommas pushed the door open just in time to spill the contents of his stomach, what little there was, on the ground. Shaking and confused, Tommas breathed deeply in an attempt to clear his head and calm down.

  “Yeah, Ghost? Hey.”

  Tommas fell back into the passenger seat and eyed the enforcer talking on a cell phone.

  “What are you doing?” Tommas asked.

  Nate ignored him. “We’ve got a fucking problem. Tommas is messed up. They shouldn’t have let him out.”

  “Get off the phone, Nate.”

  The enforcer didn’t even look at him.

  Tommas’ agitation level climbed a notch.

  “Yeah, he was holding onto his head, he’s green as hell, and he just puked on the side of the road. If he had that bad of a concussion, then he needs to go back—”

  “Get off the phone!”

  “Shut up,” Nate barked.

  The sharp, high level of Nate’s shout made Tommas’ head split with pain again. Wincing, Tommas clenched his eyes shut and grabbed at his head again.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s going back. Meet me at the hospital?” Nate asked. “Good. Later, Ghost.”

  “You’re about to lose your spot as my enforcer,” Tommas hissed when the car began to move again. “You don’t get to call my cousin like I’m a child in need of handling, Nate. If I had thought that I needed to stay in the fucking hospital, then I would have stayed there. I am fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re going to make your concussion worse. Shit, there might be something else already going on. I’m taking you back.”

  “You’re taking me home!”

  “You did what you wanted to do, boss,” Nate said, sounding entirely unaffected by Tommas’ anger. “You showed Joel that you were fine, you made your point. What else do you want, Tommas? There isn’t anything else you can do or need to do right now.”

  Yes, there was.

  It was incredibly important.

  She was important.

  “Ella,” Tommas said quietly.

  He still had to talk to her—see her, maybe. Anything. Tommas couldn’t remember a lot from the moment the bomb had gone off, but he could vividly bring back the image of Abriella above him, touching his face and crying.

  He’d told her to go.

  She hadn’t wanted to.

  “I need to … go see her,” Tommas said.

  “What? Listen, I’m sorry for yelling at you and all. Dammit, boss, sit up and look at
me!”

  Abriella.

  Her name was the last thing to pass through Tommas’ mind before the world went black.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Checking the rearview mirror, Abriella hit the gas harder and flew past a half a dozen cars on the freeway. It was not an easy thing to lose a car trailing behind your vehicle when you drove something as massive as a Hummer. Abriella had gotten rather good at it over the years.

  It was almost like a game.

  Swerving in between another set of cars and ignoring the horn that blared behind her, she watched the black vehicle that belonged to one of her brother’s fools get in the row, too. They were back a couple of cars, though.

  Abriella didn’t know if they would ever learn.

  Seeing the exit sign for next ramp coming up, Abriella swerved out from between the vehicles and hit the gas again. Her Hummer zoomed past an eighteen-wheeler and a sports car. The vehicle belonging to the enforcer who always trailed her wasn’t too far behind. She wanted him going faster—too fast to take a turn at the last minute when he couldn’t possibly know it was coming.

  Pulling in between another set of vehicles when there was a big enough opening, Abriella caught sight of the enforcer following her lead. He was right behind her now and going a good twenty over the speed limit. The black car was so close to her bumper that she could practically see the scowl the man wore.

  Poor guy.

  Abriella almost felt sorry for him.

  Except … nope.

  He picked the job of watching her, after all.

  When the exit ramp came, Abriella took the turn with no warning. She didn’t put on her blinker to signal she was leaving the freeway, or even slow down for the turn. The enforcer behind her clearly hadn’t been expecting the move because he flew on past with no available time to turn with her.

  Laughing, Abriella watched the brake lights on the black car light up. She simply hit her gas and sped down the exit ramp leading back into the city. There was no way the guy could turn on the freeway without causing some kind of accident. He had another few miles to go before another exit ramp would come up.

  This wasn’t the first time that Abriella had pulled this kind of stunt. She knew without worry that the enforcer would probably drive around looking for her, and wouldn’t call Joel unless it was absolutely necessary. That might cost the guy his life.