by L. A. Fiore
“It’s Cam.”
“Oh God, Cam, you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. They weren’t trying to hurt me, just scare me.”
“Well, they scared me.”
“They only pissed me off and made me more determined because I’m getting close. Stay near to Damian.”
Since that was where I wanted to be, near Damian, that was an easy request to agree to. “I will.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am, and in shock. I know you guys deal with this kind of thing all the time, but for me it is just a little hard to process.”
“I’m fine. Get some sleep. Love you, Thea.”
My heart twisted because he was more rattled than he was admitting to speak those words. Cam loved me, I never doubted that, but he rarely spoke the words. “I love you too.”
I handed the phone back to Damian.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Water would be great.” My stomach growled. I forgot I hadn’t eaten yet.
“Have you had dinner?”
“No, my dinner meeting turned into a hunting session for Kit. Then you called.”
“How about eggs and bacon?”
It was just eggs and bacon and yet my chest grew tight because eggs and bacon was our thing, the one meal he made and often. Part of the reason I loved bacon now was the memory it stirred of him…us. I missed his eggs and bacon. I missed him.
“I want to say I waited. That I didn’t let another man touch me, but that would be a lie. There was one other. He was kind and good. I tried to love him. I really did, but your ghost was always in the room.”
He didn’t make an audible sound, but it felt as if his inhale sucked the air from the room. He lowered his head and pressed his hands to the counter like the very act of breathing brought him pain.
“I’m telling you this because I didn’t mail those letters and I didn’t call. I even avoided you, but I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you.”
I needed to retreat, needed to pull myself together and wrangle those emotions back into the box. “I’m really not that hungry anymore. Thank you for tonight.”
He hadn’t moved, standing alone in his kitchen with the weight of my ghosts on his shoulders too.
I didn’t know what woke me a few hours later. The apartment was very still and I assumed Damian was sleeping. The living room was lit enough for me to see that the sofa was empty. There was a second door near the one we had entered. It didn’t lead to the back of the building but to the gym. Silently I descended and noticed a cleaning crew had been through after the fights from earlier. It was quiet but for the man working the punching bag. Damian wore running pants and a black tank and as beautiful a sight as he was, that wasn’t what held my attention. He looked as he had when we were younger; his punches directed not at the bag but something that haunted him. Seeing him in the empty gym, a single light illuminating just him…he looked so alone. Tears burned my eyes and I so wanted to wrap him in my arms and hold him. I didn’t though. I watched him for a few minutes hoping whatever he battled he succeeded in holding it at bay then I turned to head back upstairs.
“Couldn’t you sleep?” I’d always loved his voice. I let myself feel everything this man brought out in me and the strongest of those feelings in that moment were safe and loved. It took very little effort on my part to turn around and walk the distance to him. He stood near the punching bag, his hands fisted but at his side as he watched me, like a predator tracking his prey.
“Dad encouraged me to live my life, to stop letting it pass me by. He liked you, liked you for me, but he worried we were both waiting on something that might never happen.”
“He wasn’t wrong to encourage you.”
“I didn’t move on, not until I got your letter.” Pain moved over his expression. “I hated that letter.”
“I hated writing it.”
“Why did you?”
His shoulders tensed as the muscle at his jaw knotted. “I escorted a fallen brother home to his young wife and baby son. Her pain and grief were palpable and thinking one day that could be you…that you waited so long and that was our ending. I couldn’t do that to you.”
Tears burned the back of my eyes. I couldn’t even imagine so heartbreaking a scene. “And now?”
He touched my chin to keep my gaze on him. His eyes softened and a smile touched his lips, which made what he said more harsh…but in a really freaking awesome way. “I hate that another man knew you in the way only I want to know you. I fucking hate him. I want to take you right here, everything in me demands that I reclaim you, brand you as mine, but you’re not just a fuck. The priority right now is your safety.” His voice lowered before he added, “But after, I want it all—every kiss, every breath, every moan, every orgasm, every memory…good and bad.”
He already had all of me, but I nodded my head because words simply weren’t happening.
“Have you kept up with your self-defense?” Priorities and his right now were for my safety.
“Dad and Cam insisted.”
“Have you ever had to use it?”
“A few times.”
Concern shifted to really scary in a blink of an eye. “It wasn’t anything as terrible as I am guessing you are thinking. Just overzealous boys who needed to step back.”
“Have you ever worked a bag?”
“A little.”
“Do you want to give it a go now?”
“It helps you?”
“Yeah.”
Fighting always had been an outlet for him. “The night of our first kiss, I was mesmerized watching you fight and heartbroken at the same time. I wanted so much to hold you, to love you. It was a stroke of luck that you were thinking the same.”
The sound that rumbled up his throat was sexy as sin. “When this is all over…” He let the promise hang in the air between us before he moved to stand behind the bag. “Show me what you’ve got.”
And I did. I channeled all of it; fear, anger, confusion even love, into the bag and he was right, it did feel good.
I slept until lunchtime before Damian drove me back to my apartment. We pulled up in front of the building; Damian hit his hazards before climbing out and meeting me at the curb. At my door he waited for me to key into my apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
I didn’t know why he was seeing me tomorrow night, but I loved that he was seeing me tomorrow night. He clarified, “Your friend’s show.”
Sunshine’s show, I’d forgotten all about it, but under the circumstances I think that was to be expected. “Yes, tomorrow.”
He waited for me to close the door and lock it and I didn’t move until I heard his heavy footsteps retreating. I stripped as I made my way to my bed then dropped facedown. I woke when it was dark outside and my stomach growled.
I pulled on my pajamas and headed to the kitchen. I didn’t have much to eat so I grabbed a pack of crackers and a glass of wine before settling in front of the television. I tried to watch a movie, but I was on overload between the fantastic moment at the club, the heart to hearts and the news that someone tried to scare off my brother. The wine took the edge off, so I finished the bottle before I fell asleep on my sofa.
I woke on my bathroom floor in a puddle of my own drool. A bottle of wine on a relatively empty stomach and no water spelled hangover. The cold tiles felt so good on my clammy skin. And it was while I lay there in a pathetic bundle that I remembered the showing…a showing Damian was joining me for and I felt like death warmed over. I pulled myself up and looked into the toilet bowl wondering if the suction was enough to kill me. I would love to read that police report.
There was only one thing to do about my hangover. I reached for my phone and called Anton.
“Thea, good morning.”
“It’s not. I need the remedy.”
I heard the slight chuckle. “Oh, Thea. You are drinking alone now.”
“I don’t need a lecture, just
the remedy.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Anton arrived ten minutes later, but he didn’t come alone. Damian was with him. Of course he was with him. Why wouldn’t he be with him? Anton gave me a once over before tsking. He actually tsked me.
“I’ve arrived just in time.”
“Funny.”
“Seriously, Thea, what the hell? You look like something my dog threw up.”
“Anton! That’s a horrible thing to say.” But he wasn’t wrong.
“How much did you drink?”
“Not as much as you’re thinking.”
Damian didn’t greet me, only gave me a once over before he headed to the kitchen.
“Drink it fast.” Anton handed me the glass with the piss yellow liquid. The ingredients of the evil brew were a mystery, but it worked like a dream. Tasted like shit going down, but relief was almost immediate.
“You have that show tonight.” Anton would of course know my schedule and not just because he likely discussed it with Damian. It was just his way.
“Hence the need for that,” I said while glaring at the glass, the yellow liquid clinging to the side. “You need to tell me what is in that.”
“Then I can’t see you at rock bottom. No way.”
“I hope to return the favor one day.”
The remedy was working when I rushed to the bathroom, part of the cure included vomiting. Lovely, because it wasn’t like I hadn’t sunk low enough.
I felt strong hands holding my hair back and assumed it was Anton. A cool towel was draped over my neck. “Thank you.”
“You need another dose,” Anton called from the living room, which had my head jerking to Damian. He watched me with concern in those pale eyes.
“You didn’t drink water.”
If I didn’t drink the same amount of water as I did alcohol I was ill the next morning, even with just one glass of wine. I had experimented a few times in high school with beer and wine. I hadn’t gotten drunk and still I woke the following day sick. Damian remembered. One more reason why I was crazy about this man. “No.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll make you something to eat. Remedy, water, coffee then food.”
“Okay.”
“You good?”
“I need a minute.” I needed to brush my teeth.
He seemed reluctant to release me, but he did. “I’ll make you some eggs and bacon.”
My heart sighed. “Thank you.”
I would have kissed him right then, but not in the state I was in. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and pulled my hair back before I joined the guys in my kitchen. The smell of the bacon had my stomach growling.
Anton pointed to the chair. “Sit and drink this. Were you drinking alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t realize how stressed out I have been about the events of late and with the news about Cam, I was letting off some steam.”
Damian placed the plate of food in front of me before pulling out a chair, turning and straddling it. Anton also took a seat but it was the way they stared that made me nervous.
“What?”
“Are you up to hearing what we know?”
The knot caused by the situation with Cam had only just eased, but being ignorant was stupid. “Yes, but I’m hung over so use small words.”
Anton chuckled but turned serious a heartbeat later. “Cam has made some good headway into the investigation on the corruption at the precinct.”
“Meaning he has the names of the dirty cops?” I asked. Dirty cops that knew Cam was looking into them, maybe even that Dad had been too. History was repeating itself.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Miguel Dobbs.”
“He’s Guy’s mentor.”
“As lead detective, he mentors all the new detectives, including Cam, but he is definitely moonlighting. He is also recruiting from within.”
“Recruiting other cops?”
“Yes.”
“Who are they moonlighting for?”
“Salvatore Federico.”
It just went from bad to worse.
“Did Miguel kill my father? He has Dad’s old job. Did you know that?” I was getting pissed, really fucking pissed.
“He has an alibi for the time of the shooting, but it doesn’t mean he didn’t pay someone.”
Anton was hedging. “There’s something else.”
“The man that broke into Mrs. Cooke’s place, Jerry Castile, his arresting officer was Miguel Dobbs.”
It took me a minute to make the connection, but when I did I wanted to throw up for an entirely different reason. “So Mrs. Cooke’s attack was related to me.”
“It’s a connection that deserves further investigation. It could be that Jerry was just back to his old ways and his link to Dobbs is completely coincidental.” Anton was trying and I really appreciated it, but he didn’t believe what he was saying either.
“And that’s what Cam is looking into, digging deeper into Dobbs?” I asked.
“Yes, there is still the possibility that your dad’s death was random.”
That bastard had taken my dad. He wasn’t taking my brother too. “You know they are linked. It’s why you’re both worried now. You’re worried about Cam. And after the other night you have a reason to be.”
“Nothing will happen to him.” Damian sounded quite sure of that. I was glad he felt so confident.
“As we learn more we’ll keep you posted, but we were in a meeting when you called. We really need to get back. You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for bringing the remedy.”
Anton kissed my head. “Anytime.”
Damian hunched down next to me. “I’ll be back later.”
“Okay.”
“Eat.”
I nodded my head, but I wasn’t hungry. Anton and Damian were at the door when I called to them, “If it was Miguel who killed Dad, he has to pay.”
Damian didn’t miss a beat. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”
The door had just closed behind us when I asked Anton, “She ever do that before?”
“Get drunk alone? No. But considering the circumstances, I think letting off some steam is okay.”
There were other ways she could let off steam, ways I could help her with...fucking wanted to help her with, but losing focus now was not an option. “What’s your take on the shit with Cam?”
“We’re making people nervous.”
We reached my car. I leaned against the hood and looked across it to Anton. “We know Dobbs is dirty and that he’s recruiting, but him taking a shot at Cam...he’s got to be really fucking stupid to bring that kind of heat down on himself when he’s already in the crosshairs.”
“Or someone is setting him up.”
“I want Dobbs in a room. A few broken bones and he’d sing like a fucking canary.”
“That would bring blowback on Cam, but Federico is fair game.” Anton had the look in his eyes. He was formulating a plan.
“Will Federico talk to you?”
“He’s a miserly fuck, but I can be persuasive. Before I approach him again, I want backup. We need to make a stop.”
I didn’t pretend to understand the food chain as it pertained to gangsters in New York, but I did know for all the polish Anton had on the outside, he was a scary motherfucker. I’d seen the other side of him a few times and knew he wasn’t jesting when he said he could be persuasive. I was curious as hell by the stop we needed to make because it was a club in Soho.
“Do you want to fill me in on what we’re doing?”
“Federico is a dinosaur. He’s desperate to hold onto his waning empire. He’s old school in his beliefs and his methods, but times are changing. He’s been a thorn in my side for years. Holds properties that I’m willing to legally buy from him, but he won’t sell because they’re drug dens...keeping his customers satisfied. I don’t have m
uch of a moral code, but fucking drugs...I draw the line there.”
“So you’ve been looking to take him down.”
“Yeah, but he’s got some connections and any attempt I make could start a turf war. I’m not interested in adding to the bloodshed of the city. I need more leverage.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“Some of these buildings are near schools and I know a guy who’s been as vocal as me about Federico’s crack houses, but like me he knows he needs to pick his battles. However, he has a friend who’s father was a cop?”
“Was? Did he die on the job?”
“No retired, but this friend isn’t going to like the possibility that Federico could have been involved in a cop’s murder. That’s a battle he’ll definitely pick.”
“So who’s this guy?”
“Lucien Black.”
I pulled up to the curb outside the club Allegro and Anton climbed out. I followed. The inside was weathered and worn with a scarred wooden bar and a stage up front. Tables and chairs packed the place. A woman stood behind the bar, drying glasses. She glanced up, her eyes hitting me before moving to Anton where they lingered.
“Can I help you?”
Anton didn’t move, even the air around him seemed to still. I looked over to find him studying the blonde. I had never seen him look as he did just then. It was subtle, only those who knew him well would pick up on his intense mood of the moment. And yet when he spoke his voice gave nothing away.
“Anton Scalene to see Lucien Black.”
She recognized his name with how her eyes grew wide. She moved from around the bar. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
At that moment a woman came from the back hall tying her black hair into a ponytail. “Tara, is there more coffee?” She stopped short when she saw us. “Oh. Hi.”
The Tara chick said to the woman, as she walked around her heading to the offices in the back, “This is Anton Scalene.”
The second woman’s reaction wasn’t like Tara’s. Her eyes didn’t widened; they narrowed. “Darcy Black. So what trouble are you looking to pull my husband into?”