Rialto

by Drake, Jocelynn

  Hollis motioned toward a small, rickety table that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since Clinton was in office. There was no way in hell Ian was touching that nasty thing. Stepping around Hollis, Ian took two big strides toward the bar, almost instantly closing the distance between him and Ernie. Hollis hissed and grabbed Ian’s shoulder, trying to stop him, but Ian shrugged off his hold.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Ian? That’s not the plan!” Royce said in a low, harsh whisper.

  “What the hell is going on?” Rowe demanded, panic filling his voice. He was blind to the events inside of the bar and was waiting for the signal to storm the place. Ian suspected that Noah was just barely keeping Rowe on the street outside.

  He poked Ernie three times with his index finger in his meaty shoulder, and it was like poking a sleeping giant. Ian’s heart was pounding as if it had gone mad in his chest. Breathing became difficult, but Ian held it together, using his anger and frustration as fuel for bravery.

  “Hey!” Ian said sharply. “You remember me?”

  The mountain of flesh slowly turned on the stool and looked down at Ian. His meaty face was a mask of boredom for a moment, and he looked like he was about to tell Ian to fuck off when recognition lit his features, transforming them into expressions of surprise…and joy.

  “Ian! Holy shit! Ian!” he shouted. Ernie dropped off the stool faster than Ian had thought possible and grabbed him up in massive arms, pulling him into a tight hug. He was hugging Ian.

  Behind him, Ian was vaguely aware of both Hollis and Royce shouting for the man to drop him and step back.

  Ernie released him and put his hands up. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded.

  “Whoa! It’s okay!” Ian jumped in front of Ernie the moment he got his brain wrapped around the situation. Ernie didn’t want to hurt him. The big guy seemed genuinely happy to see him. “It’s okay. He’s not a threat. Everything is fine,” he repeated as much for Hollis and Royce as he did for the others outside who were likely running to stop what they likely thought was an attack.

  “Ian?” Ernie asked.

  Ian looked over his shoulder at the huge man and gave him an apologetic look. The whole scene looked ridiculous. Ian was defending someone easily twice his height and weight against two other big guys with guns drawn.

  “Sorry, Ernie. We thought you might be the person out to destroy my restaurant and maybe kill me.”

  “What? No! Of course not!”

  Both Hollis and Royce lowered their guns, their expressions becoming a bit sheepish. Hollis said something quick to Royce, and the bodyguard gave a little wave to Ian before leaving the bar. The other patrons continued to stare at them for another couple of seconds before turning back to their beers now that all the action was over.

  “What’s going on?” Ernie asked.

  Ian looked around and finally decided on a table toward the rear of the bar that looked a little less disgusting than the others. He motioned for Ernie to accompany him. As the three of them settled at the table, Ian made quick introductions, but it hadn’t been necessary.

  “Yeah, I remember you. I thought I heard you were a cop,” Ernie said with a grin.

  “Ex-cop now. Private detective,” Hollis corrected.

  “Nice gig. And you ended up with Ian here?” Ernie continued, pointing at Ian. His smile grew even bigger, and Ian was sure that Ernie was a secret softie. “That’s great.”

  “Look, someone is out to ruin and hurt Ian, and we’re pretty sure that it’s someone from Jagger’s old crew. There’s more of them running free in the city than we expected,” Hollis said. His voice was hard and serious. The man was in no mood for a reunion. There was nothing positive about Ian’s past with Jagger except for meeting Snow, Rowe, and Lucas. Ian was more than happy to get this meeting over with and get out of the bar.

  Ian jumped in and gave Ernie a quick recap of everything that had happened at the restaurant as well as the attack on Ian at home.

  Ernie’s expression clouded and he sat up straight, glaring at Hollis and then Ian. “And you thought it was me?”

  Ian chewed on his bottom lip for a second. He couldn’t believe he actually felt a little guilty for accusing Ernie when he obviously didn’t harbor any grudge against him. “Ernie, I know you made a very comfortable living from Jagger. And you were moving up while I was there. I know people have to blame me for taking down Jagger. We thought…maybe you wanted revenge for ruining your paycheck.”

  A slow sigh drifted from Ernie, and his shoulders slumped before he put both hands on the table. “I get ya. But you gotta know that I’ve been in this business since I was a kid. Sometimes the boss wins. And sometimes the cops win. If you don’t get caught in the roundup, you count yourself lucky and go find a new boss.”

  Ian stared at Hollis across the table, and his husband shrugged at him.

  “That’s a really…down-to-earth view of things,” Ian murmured.

  “I ain’t got no grudge against you, Ian. I know things was bad for you at Jagger’s, and I had no interest in making things worse so long as you didn’t cross the boss. I’m glad you got out, and I’m happy you’ve had all your success. I saw that magazine article about you. Very fancy.”

  “Thanks, Ernie.” Ian could feel his cheeks heating with a blush.

  “I really miss your cooking, too. You’d send all kinds of things down to the guardhouse, and I loved it all. I never ate so good. Some of the guys were sure you were gonna poison them, but I didn’t care. It would have been a great way to go.” Ernie shook his head, dropping his eyes to his hands folded in front of him. “I keep hoping that your restaurant will start using one of those delivery service apps. I’d love to try that food, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  And for that Ian was grateful. No one from Jagger’s old crew had ever stopped into the restaurant as far as he knew. There had been several of Cincinnati’s socialites who liked to attend Jagger’s parties that would come into the restaurant, and Ian was always sure to make himself unavailable to the customers at that time. James had it down to an art if any of them was so bold as to ask for him. Ian refused to have his past shoved in his face while he was in Rialto.

  “I’ll look into it,” Ian promised. He could at least do that if Ernie managed to give them some kind of viable lead.

  “Well, if you’re not pissed at Ian, do you know of anyone who might be? From Jagger’s old crew?” Hollis pressed, putting them back on track.

  “Nope.”

  “Have you been in contact with any of them?”

  Ernie bobbed his head lightly. “Some. We mostly scattered after Jagger turned up dead. Seemed the smart thing to do. But I see them here or there.”

  “And none of them are pissed at Ian? Blame him for what happened to them or Jagger?”

  Ernie made a face and spread his hands. “It’s been three years now since Jagger was killed. The bastard deserved it and we all knew it. Sure, some mugs might have been pissed in the early months, but now? Pffft.…No way. Who holds a grudge like that? We all got bigger problems to deal with.”

  And that was a good point. Who the hell would hold a grudge after so much time? And why go after Ian now? Three years had passed. There had been ample time to go after Ian then. Would have been easy too because Ian hadn’t been watching his back after Jagger died. He’d been sure that he was completely safe.

  Ian looked over at Hollis, who was staring at him with a deep frown. They were back at square one—without a single lead to go on.

  “Thanks for your time, Ernie,” Ian said, extending his hand. Ernie eagerly took it in both of his and pumped it a few times.

  “Sorry about earlier,” Hollis said, sticking out his hand as well.

  “I get ya. You’re just protecting your man,” Ernie said easily, shaking Hollis’s hand as well.

  They stood, but before any of them could take a step toward the exit, Hollis stopped and held up a hand.

  “Do you know what happened to
any of the other kids that Jagger kept? Ones like Ian.”

  “You mean those in the house?”

  Hollis nodded, and Ian didn’t miss the uncomfortable way that Ernie looked over at him from the corner of his eye. It was an angle that none of them had considered. There were only a couple of others that usually stayed in Jagger’s house besides Ian. Most of them didn’t last long. Ian had been Jagger’s favorite, but sometimes the bastard wanted a little variety. The only problem was that he got bored with them extremely fast, and they were usually passed around at the parties.

  “It’s okay,” Ian reassured when Ernie seemed to hesitate.

  “It ain’t pretty. Most got hooked on drugs. They became dealers or mules for Jagger. Others left and just became rent boys on the streets. Both those lives…once you’re in…”

  “There’s no real chance of getting out,” Hollis softly finished.

  “Ian is the only exception that I know of. He got out and did something better with his life,” Ernie continued. “There’s no real escape after meeting Jagger. He was like this sticky tar. That tar would get on you and just sort of drag you down.”

  Ernie’s words made Ian feel sick, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised by them. He’d already seen it firsthand with Kyle and Hanna Fogle. Kyle had fallen into Jagger’s clutches when he was young. Jagger hadn’t been interested in Kyle’s sister, but he’d kept her to maintain a tight control on Kyle. The bastard had brainwashed both of them, got them working for him as arsonists. Ian was sure they wouldn’t have ended up dead if it hadn’t been for Jagger.

  How many other Kyles and Hannas were there in the world? They’d blamed Ian for their falling out with Jagger. Were there other kids who blamed Ian for destroying their world because Ian killed Jagger?

  Saying good-bye again, Hollis carefully ushered Ian out of the bar, but he was barely aware of it. Ian was running through all the faces of kids he encountered during his time at Jagger’s. How many had there been with no escape? Had there been any that he could have helped to escape? Should he have been looking for them rather than worrying about starting his own restaurant? Or getting married?

  The cold night air helped to pull Ian from his dark thoughts. Hollis kept his arm wrapped around his shoulder, guiding him to where he could see Rowe and Noah standing down the block. Ian’s stomach churned and his heart hurt. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was a damn good lead.

  “What do we got?” Rowe asked the second they had joined them.

  Hollis relayed the conversation they’d had with Ernie, both the parts about Jagger’s old crew having no interest in him and the idea that the culprit might be one of the boys that Jagger tormented.

  Ian didn’t look up, but he could feel Rowe’s and Noah’s worried gazes on him. He wanted to be strong, pretend that it didn’t affect him, but he continued to lean against Hollis, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Guilt had become a living thing in his chest. He’d been through this before, and his family had tried to convince him that there was nothing he could have done. That he needed to take care of himself in those early days.

  But he should have done something.

  When he escaped Jagger, he’d poured his entire existence into forgetting about those years. To living the best life he could as thanks for all that Lucas, Snow, and Rowe had done for him. He never wanted their sacrifice or the risks they took to feel like a waste. If he proved that he could pull himself up from the trash that Jagger had tried to make him into, then they would know that he’d been worth all the effort.

  In all that struggle to be something more, he should have tried to save someone else too.

  “Ian?” Rowe said cautiously.

  “You need to tell Gidget that she should look through police records for someone between the ages of eighteen and thirty with an arrest record for drugs or prostitution. From there, we can see if any of them have links to Jagger,” Ian said quickly. He wanted to distract Rowe from his silence.

  “We’re on it. I’m more concerned about you,” Rowe continued.

  “Don’t be. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not.”

  There was no point in denying it. He was so fucking far from fine. Fine was in another damn country for all that Ian was concerned.

  “What if this is like Kyle and Hanna?” Ian whispered. “If this is another kid coming after me, we can’t let anything happen to him. We have to save him.”

  “Ian, if he’s trying to hurt you, even kill you—” Noah started, his voice soft and so sensible, but Ian didn’t care.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Ian snapped. “We have to at least try. Just talk to him. Try to help him.” Ian had no plan in mind, but his resolve firmed. If this was a kid hurt by Jagger, then they would find a way to help him. Give him the same chance Ian had. Give him a second chance at life.

  Hollis tightened his arm around Ian, squeezing him so he could soak in more of his husband’s strength and warmth. “We’ll try, baby. We need a solid lead first. I’ll contact my friend at the CPD. The triplets will dig as well. Hopefully we find something useful soon.”

  Ian nodded, but he didn’t have any doubts in his mind now that they’d finally kicked over this stone. Ian was sure that at the end of the trail to the person that was trying to ruin Ian’s life, they were going to find someone who had their life ruined by Jagger.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ian pulled the lasagna from the oven and set it on the stove in Lucas’s penthouse. He looked around the kitchen, and the nostalgia threatened to bring him down. His hand strayed over the counter’s smooth surface in a gentle caress. So many new recipes had been tried in this kitchen. And so many had bombed, but Lucas had given a safe place to experiment. Countless breakfasts. Promising to come over for that first meal of the day twice a week had been the only way Lucas grudgingly accepted Ian moving out on his own. He hadn’t even asked Ian to cook. Breakfast had been Lucas’s guarantee that they’d see each other twice a week.

  Those quiet meals together had been the starting point of too many arguments to count. Lucas didn’t want Ian to move out. Lucas pushing Ian to open his own restaurant. Ian fighting Lucas over the amount of bacon he was allowed to eat. Lucas growling over Ian’s dating attempts. Ian growling over Lucas’s pathetic dating attempts.

  The penthouse wasn’t the first place he’d lived with the guys, but it was the last place he’d lived with any of them before moving out on his own. It was a refuge. A sanctuary.

  It was home.

  And tonight was their last night in the place. Most of Lucas’s, Andrei’s, and Daci’s personal items had been moved into the new house Lucas had built in Indian Hill, a huge sprawling place with a big yard and more rooms than they could possibly need just for their family. There was even a cute little cottage being built for Andrei’s parents at the edge of the property.

  But before the doors could close on the penthouse, he, Lucas, Snow, and Rowe had decided on one last hurrah in their home before it went up for sale.

  He gazed over the light honey wood and brushed nickel decor, then walked to the massive window that looked over Roebling Bridge and a wide swath of Cincinnati and the Ohio River. He’d miss this view and this gorgeous penthouse where they’d spent so much of their lives. They’d gathered on the balcony every year to watch the Labor Day weekend fireworks that were shot off from barges on the river. They’d watch snow falling in dancing swirls and bright flashes of lightning in brutal summer storms. Every holiday. Every major event. It all took place here.

  And soon someone else would be living here where he had so many memories. It felt like their place. Made him sad to think it would be no longer.

  Snow walked up to him and handed him a glass of wine. “Food smells good.”

  “I went with something easy, so we’d have more time together.”

  “Only you would think lasagna is easy, especially since I know you make that sauce early and let it simmer all day.”

  Ian shrugged and looked back
outside. “I’m going to miss this.”

  Snow turned toward the window too. “So will I. I kind of hate that they’re moving, but I certainly understand why.”

  Rowe and Lucas were in the living room, talking about some new toy Rowe picked up for Ward Security. Andrei had taken Daci out with his parents for the evening, so they had the place to themselves.

  The little girl’s presence was felt in the various pieces of baby furniture dotting the rooms. There was a high chair at the dining table and a playpen in the living room. Framed photographs had been taken down and packed already, but normally, the walls were covered with images of Daci, Andrei, and Lucas. The penthouse hadn’t changed much when Andrei moved in. It continued to feel like the comfortable bachelor pad that it was. But that little girl had added a layer of warmth and love Ian hadn’t thought possible.

  He glanced at Snow to find the man frowning at the view as he brushed a hand down his gray sweater. Snow had gotten his nickname from his hair turning silver in his twenties, back when he was still in the Army. This penthouse had been a refuge for him as much as it had been for Ian, so he imagined the surgeon was feeling the same melancholy.

  “Come on, let’s join the others.”

  Carrying his wine into the living room, Ian settled on the black sofa, next to Rowe. Lucas, his hand idly holding a glass of some kind of amber-colored alcohol, sat in the chair closest to the fireplace. Snow took the other end of the couch. Ian looked around at his friends and had to smile. So many things had changed for them. It had started out as just the four of them, and now they all had husbands or boyfriends. Their lives were no longer solitary outside of their foursome.

  “You remember that night Ian made the crab puffs and we got drunk here?” Rowe asked. “Let’s do that again.”

  “I remember you face-planting behind the couch,” Lucas murmured, a grin teasing the corner of his lips. His black hair was slicked back from his angular face, and he looked comfortably lazy in a pair of jeans and a blue sweater that made his eyes more gray than green.