The Rainmaker: Jake: A Von Larsen Crime Family Novel

by Piper Page

  I was ready to finally let her see my personal world, my loft, my sanctuary. I picked her up at her bungalow and instructed her to bring a bag for the weekend. She would be in my arms from Thursday to Sunday. I was thrilled, and it would finally prove to us all that this was the right thing for me and the Von Larsen clan. Prove to them all that Aly was a good fit.

  We dropped her bags and I gave her the grand tour of the space. “It reminds me of New York,” she commented, running her fingers over the rough surface of the exposed brick walls. “Bet this will feel intense against bare skin.” She fluttered her eyelids at me and shot me a sultry smile.

  I scooped her up and pressed her back against the cold, hard brick, wrapping her legs around my hips and attacking her mouth. She yelped, and I cut her off with the kiss, squeezing her ass through the fabric of her jeans.

  God, you are amazing.

  I wanted to take her right then, so when my cell phone rang, I cursed out loud between our lips. “Damn it.”

  Aly clung to me, her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs locked at the small of my back. I carried her with ease across the short distance to the counter that cut the living space from the kitchen. “Yeah?”

  It was Angelo. He needed me to run over to Cole’s. I was pissed. My brother refused to let up.

  “Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll be right down.” I was going to lay it out for Cole for the last time. I ended the call and set my phone down, pulling Aly close, cradling her cheeks in my hand as I kissed her in between my apology. “I’m sorry. I won’t be long. Unpack. I emptied a drawer for you. Be here when I get back.”

  Aly walked me to the door, kissed me one last time, and sent me on my frustrated way.

  Cole, I am going to kick your ass.

  My brother and I had it out one last time. He agreed to let me handle my own personal life, but vowed if there was any interference on his end, he would have no choice but to deal with it in the way he saw fit. I relented to his statement, knowing we had nothing to worry about. When Angelo dropped me off, my car was still in its parking space, but the loft was silent. I checked the bathroom—no sign of her. I checked the loft—maybe she was asleep—no such luck.

  Aly, where are you?

  A note was tacked to my refrigerator with a Vegas magnet. “Jake, went shopping for dinner, making something special to start our weekend together.” She signed it with her name and some X’s and O’s. Her bags were still by the door.

  Did she do anything I asked?

  This was going to be our downfall, our constant argument. She couldn’t keep going out on her own. When I told her to do something, it was for a reason, a good reason, and mostly for her safety, but also because I had an all-encompassing need to know where she was and who she was with at all times. I wanted her all to myself. I sighed. We’d address it later.

  I grabbed her bags and took the steps two at a time up to the loft. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt that she didn’t take advantage of the empty drawer. Maybe I should have given her some space in the closet too. I unzipped the bigger of the two bags and extracted some very tasty lingerie.

  Yes, you can wear this tonight, baby girl.

  I put the silk and lace items in the drawer, added her other casual clothing items, and then started to fold the bag up so I could put it in the closet. The smaller bag was cosmetics and personal items. There were two cell phones.

  Why?

  Maybe one was personal and one was from Love or Lust and she had not returned it yet. I could understand that. “Ouch, fuck.” I pulled my hand back from the dark, cavernous hollow of the bag, sucked on my fingertips, and tasted blood. “What the hell was that?”

  Was it a needle? Is Aly doing drugs?

  My world crashed at my feet as my finger bled. I moved about the loft in a daze until I could not pace anymore. With Aly’s bag on the table and me sitting in a chair waiting for her to return, the minutes passed by and my anger rose.

  Why is Cole always right?

  Aly let herself in with some difficulty, her arms laden with shopping bags. “Umm, thanks for the help.” Her tone was snarky as she set the multitude of bags on the counter. I didn’t give a fuck about helping her at this point. She walked back to close the door she had left open behind her and moved to the counter to begin unpacking the bags. Her eyes didn’t even attempt to look upward. “Did you accomplish everything with Cole?”

  I didn’t answer. Maybe if I held my tongue she’d lift her goddamned eyes and see me.

  “How does fettuccini Alfredo sound? A little green salad, some Chianti?”

  “Alyson, fucking look at me.”

  Her body froze and her hand dropped back to the counter with the loaf of bread she was holding. I watched her lips part to form words that would be lies, all lies.

  “Don’t say a fucking thing. I found this in your bag.”

  “You went through my bags?”

  She’s pissed about that? Unbelievable.

  “I thought I was doing you a favor, you know, making you a part of my home, my family.” I tossed the gold detective shield at her. It skidded across the counter and stopped in front of her. “Tell me that Cole is wrong about you, Alyson. Tell me that’s a trumped up phony badge from a custom shop you bought with Sunny. Just fucking tell me that, Alyson.” I wanted her to tell me that. I wanted it to be true, all of it, but I knew it wasn’t. I only needed her to say the words so I could toss her out of my apartment and out of my life. “Why do you fucking have that?” I thrust my finger forward, pointing at the gold piece of metal. My fingertip throbbed, mocking my stupidity.

  “Jake, let me explain.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t trust myself to say anything more. I stood there and stared her down.

  She moved out from the protection of the counter, headed straight for me.

  “No, don’t, Alyson, just stay there.” I held my palms out to her to stop her forward motion.

  Don’t touch me, or I swear I’ll break.

  “Jake, it’s over. I don’t work for them anymore. I quit.”

  “Was that before or after Sunny called you out?” I watched her mouth open and close like a loose hinge. “Exactly.”

  “Wait, you don’t understand, Jake.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. My boiling point was surpassed. My legs stood me up, and my fingers dug into Alyson’s biceps. I took her back several steps before she realized what was happening. Her muscles tensed, and I was shocked for several moments with the hardness of them. For a woman, I bet she could throw a freaking wallop of a punch.

  Stop feeling this. She betrayed you.

  “What I understand is that this has all been one hell of a fairytale. I knew it was too good to be true, and what’s worse is fucking Cole was right. He knew it too.” I shoved her arms away and turned my back to her, threading my hands through my hair. “Goddamn it, is this what I get? Is this fucking karma taking a crap on me for doing my job? Alyson, I have never, never, fuck!”

  I stopped, and my fist went through the drywall between the living room and the bathroom. Alyson yelped and pressed back into the bare brick wall behind her. I wanted to bring it down. I knew I was scaring her, but she was a cop, she could handle it.

  “Alyson, you worked your way into my twisted heart and now you’re torturing me worse than I have or could ever do.” I lay my forehead to the wall, staring down at the hole my fist had created and now I would have to repair. “You fucked me over, ripped my heart out, and fucked it. I can’t trust you, I mean, how can I? I wanted you to trust me.” I laughed. “I thought I needed to get you to trust me and know that I cared for and wanted you, it’s too funny.”

  She came up behind me and laid her hand on my shoulder, and I cringed. Her touch was too much for me to deal with. It hurt my heart. “Jake, I’m sorry, I know it started off on false pretenses and shaky foundations, but it’s changed, fully changed. I know what I want. Please Jake, listen to me. I’ll do anything, anything. Don’t shut me
out, Jake.” Her small hands, with brute force, shoved at my shoulders to turn me around. She took fistfuls of my shirt. Yanking me down and lifting herself up on her toes, she implored me with her tearful eyes. “I don’t care what I was before. The only thing I care about is that by being a detective I was given the chance to meet you. If I was anything else, we would have never met. Don’t you see, Jake, it’s fate.”

  Fate? I don’t believe in fucking fate. I create my own life.

  Alyson shook me. “Don’t you see it? I’m in love with you. I love you, Jake Von Larsen.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks and I clenched my hands to stop from wiping them away.

  What did she just say? No, no, no, that’s not fair.

  I couldn’t deal with it. My head was swimming, my blood was surging, and my heart had been torn apart and stitched together again within a matter of minutes. I felt my hand shoot out and my finger point toward the door. “Get out.”

  “Jake, no, please.” Her voice trembled.

  “Just go.”

  17

  Alyson

  My eyes were so blinded by tears I could barely see the stairs as my feet stumbled down to the street level. I pushed through the security door and felt the humid air hit my wet face. I was completely shocked—but not by the fact that Jake found out that I was a detective. I knew that would come out. There was no such thing as a secret in a family as close as the Von Larsens.

  What had me in tears was the fact that I honestly loved Jake and I said it out loud for the first time at the worst possible moment. How could I admit that I loved him when he had no trust in me? Did I think it would bandage it all together and we would kiss the booboo and make it all better?

  Love has made you so stupid, Alyson.

  “Alyson, he called me Alyson,” I mouthed, and continued to move down the sidewalk. “Not Aly.” This realization dug the knife in deeper. “What do I do now?” I wiped at my eyes and looked behind me, back toward the apartment stoop, hoping to see Jake looking after me. The steps were empty. The street was empty, except for a white van that was driving in my direction. I felt bad enough to step right out in front of it.

  My feet kept walking in a straight, swift line, resisting that insane idea. It would be selfish of me. Wait, who would it be selfish to? There was no more Jake, my team and my career were gone, and my father could care less—when was the last time he even called me? Sorry son of a bitch. My sorrow was turning to anger, anger toward everyone else. This was my fault. I lost control, I defied orders, and I fell in love. I could hear a car approaching. It slowed and I turned to see if I was standing too close to the curb.

  The van swerved and the sliding side door whipped open. A large man wrapped his arm around my waist and his hand around my mouth. Instinct kicked in and I bit his hand. “Fucking bitch.” He yanked me off my feet and tossed me mercilessly into the back of the van.

  I landed hard on my shoulder, feeling the joint crack. I screamed as loud as I could before the door slammed shut and the back of the man’s bloody hand struck my face. The interior of the van turned black.

  “Wake her up,” a deep voice growled from somewhere behind me. I wasn’t asleep. I’d come to a few minutes before he spoke, but chose to remain quiet and still. My shoulder was on fire and I could feel that I was no longer in the van. I kept my eyes closed and let my senses try to perceive what was happening around me. There were at least two people in the room with me, the man behind me and whomever he was speaking to. I tried to move my arms a fraction of an inch so as not to be noticed. I was tied to the chair I had been placed in while I was knocked out. My arms were strapped to the wooden arms and my ankles to the legs.

  Damn it.

  I gasped as cold water was thrown on my face.

  “Good morning sunshine,” snapped the second man, standing in front of me. I blinked away the water from my lashes and tried to focus on the room. We were in a basement, plain and simple. Cement floor, wooden two by four constructed work bench, tools, utility sink, and grated windows high up on the wall, where I could almost make out the low, rotting, dying branches of neglected shrubbery. I could have been anywhere. Being unconscious for the full ride here stole away any knowledge of my location, direction, or distance. I had stolen my sense of time away from Jake’s loft.

  Oh God, Jake.

  I wonder if he’d seen the kidnapping take place. He wasn’t on the stoop, so maybe he looked out the window. Would he even care? The water dripped off my chin and the tip of my nose, and a loose strand of hair clung to my cheek.

  “There she is, little Miss America, the apple of Jake Von Larsen’s eye.” The deep tone of the voice behind me made me tremble to the very core. It was dark and heavy, and I knew it was this man, with the voice, that I should be wary of, and not the lackey with the plastic cup still clutched in his fingers in front of me. “I imagine our boy Jake is missing you by now.”

  You imagine wrong.

  I wasn’t going to tell them that. I was obviously being held for some collateral, and if they were expecting a ransom and they knew there was no chance in hell of getting it, I was dead weight, literally.

  “You must be wondering why you are here. Nick, show her.”

  I heard steps come up close behind me and I tried desperately to keep my body from shaking. Nick brought over a cell phone and scrolled through some items on the screen until he found what he was searching for. He flipped it around and showed me a photograph of a man tied in a chair like I was. The pictures progressed until the man was either unconscious or—and I refused to believe this—dead.

  “That is what your boyfriend is capable of,” stated the voice behind me. “Look at it.” His fingers gripped my cheeks and held my head firm as Nick shoved the phone in my face. “Your beloved took one of my team, a good part of my team, and payment is due.”

  I knew it. You are out of luck, Mister Man.

  With my lips forcibly puckered, I spit in Nick’s face. My head snapped to the side before I had a chance to realize his hand had struck me. I could feel the blood slip from my split lip. The tears that started to flow appeared like fear to them, but I knew it was anger that caused them.

  “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Nick, get ready. I want these to go straight to Jake, the old-fashioned way, so he can frame them.”

  Nick snapped his first picture of my bleeding face. The man behind me slid his fingers around my throat and cut off my airway. I clenched my hands, and my body fought back out of sheer instinctual survival. I turned my head from side to side and stiffened my muscles, trying to wrench my throat from his hand. Nick hooted and hollered like an entertained psychopath. The man behind me released my throat with enough force that the chair tipped to the side, and I toppled to the floor, my already injured shoulder making yet another cracking connection. I cried out with the burning pain that shot through me between coughing fits as I tried to gain air.

  Nick continued to take pictures as I cried on the floor. “You want me to pick her up, Donovan?”

  “No, leave her be,” he barked.

  Now I had two names. If I managed to get out of here, I could use those. I leveraged my body over with my elbow, my shoulder screaming as I flipped the weight of my body over to my back with a painful thud that stole my breath away. It eased the pain, but put my body in a more vulnerable position. My eyes went wide with anxious tension as a rugged, scary face appeared hovering above me.

  “You’re a tough little cookie, with a high pain threshold. Good for you, baby doll. Let’s try something else. Nick?”

  “Ready, Donovan.”

  Donovan was right; I could handle the pain, but when his hand tore the collar of my shirt and I felt the cold dampness of the basement air on my bare abdomen, I could feel my heart thumping against my breasts.

  Don’t cry. Breathe through it.

  My teenage voice chanted the words over and over again as Donovan ruthlessly cupped my breast, squeezing the full flesh. I could feel myself closing of
f, going to that dark, soundproof place in my head for my own safety. He leaned in close to my face, holding it in his free hand, and I could feel his warm, putridly humid breath on my cheek, and then his tongue lapped at my skin. I screamed, and Nick snapped a picture.

  “That’s enough, Nick. Print and send them.” Donovan got up off me and walked to the rickety wood steps. Nick followed behind, closing the door at the top of the stairs, leaving me in complete darkness, lying on the cold hard floor.

  Jake, I am so sorry.

  18

  Jake

  “Jake you look like hell.” Angelo rested a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me.

  “Don’t sugar coat it, Angelo.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  I pushed my fork through the dry, yellow fluff. My stomach churned. The full plate slid back across the counter. “Thanks anyway, Angelo.”

  “Will Miss Gallagher be joining you today?”

  The plate of eggs flew up and crashed against the kitchen wall. Bits of yellow scrambled yolk mixture stuck to the brick. Angelo did not flinch. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “I let her go, Angelo. I called her out, and then I kicked her out. I think I may have made a terrible mistake.”

  Angelo moved from behind the counter and headed to the door.

  “Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”

  He stopped with his hand on the door. “You have a lot to think about and I don’t want to be here to distract you, but I will offer this one thing: is she worth your love?” The door clicked behind him and I was shoved into complete silence.

  What are you going to do?

  As I cleaned up eggs and shards of glass, I realized this mess was a hell of a lot easier than what I would need to do to clean up things with Alyson and with Cole. I should have never lost my cool with her. Yes, she started off on the wrong shoe, with the wrong side, but she changed and she had changed me. She was out of my bed for one night and I was already feeling the loneliness. How did I contact her and apologize for my behavior? She was still wrong, but so was I, and I needed to own up to it. It was the only way I was going to be able to move on with or without her.