The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  A blast erupted, amber lights all aglow as Blackie’s truck was blown to smithereens. The impact of the explosion threw us back, knocking some of us to the ground, others dropping voluntarily to take cover.

  A lot could happen in twenty-four hours.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ever wonder what would’ve happened if you turned left instead of right? If someone hit the backspace button on the story to your life? What would change? Would you be surrounded by the same people? Would you love them or hate them? Who decides that shit anyway? They say you have one life to live and to make the best of it but that’s not really true, is it? We aren’t the scribers of the pages to our stories. There is someone else writing them, someone else deciding who stays and who leaves, who we love and who we hate. You’re not in control of your destiny, it’s already written for you. It’s been decided and the final proof submitted for editing. No more backspace button—the moment you breathe your first breath your story is published.

  Growing up, I remember my grandma telling me that the Lord only gives us what we can handle.

  He’ll never give you more than you can chew, darling.

  Those were the words of wisdom that brought me to church after the fire, and those same words brought me here today. It was a weekday so the chapel was empty, but still I sat in the last pew. I stared at the altar, diverting my eyes to the crucifix that hung above and wondered if the man crucified was the scriber of this story.

  I don’t know why I made Blackie drop me off at the church. It’s not like I’m a religious person. It’s true, I only believe in God sometimes because most of the time I can’t believe that there is a man who sacrificed his own life and sits idly watching as others suffer. Shouldn’t he intervene with his divine powers?

  Maybe my perception of who God is and what his powers are is off. But I can’t help but wonder why people preach that God is great when I look around and see so many people suffering. Why did Danny die and I survive? How did his brother’s life intertwine with mine? Did I go right when I was supposed to go left? There were no signs pointing which way to go. I kept moving and collided with Jack.

  Jack.

  My eyes zeroed in on the eyes of Jesus.

  “Why did you give him to me if your plan was only to take him from me?” I asked the empty church. Again, there were no signs, no flickering candle, not even a saint appearing before me to answer my question. I was back at the fork in the road.

  Do I go right?

  Do I go left?

  I wasn’t suicidal but I could understand why people chose to end the vicious cycle. They’re grasping for control of their story—not willing to sit idle and wait for the next blow.

  “People falsely believe God is the controller of our destiny. He is there walking beside you, holding your hand as you do all the work,” a voice said, from behind me.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I said that out loud,” I swallowed, staring into the eyes of the priest. He smiled warmly and gestured to the space beside me.

  “May I?”

  “Of course,” I whispered, sliding over to give him room to sit beside me.

  “What is troubling you, my child? Is it your faith you are questioning or your own life particularly?” he asked me softly, as he worked the rosary beads in his fingers.

  “I guess both,” I admitted honestly. I stared at him for some time and wondered if he was the sign. Was he going to tell me which way to go? Was he going to be the one to make sense of all my questions?

  “I don’t go to church,” I blurted. “I’m not sure why I am even here but I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Are you running away from something that is troubling you?”

  I thought about the question and shook my head. “The old me would’ve run a long time ago. The new me is fighting not to run back,” I said, throwing my head in my hands and groaning. “I’m not even sure I make sense anymore,” I pulled my hands back and stared at the priest, “I’m in love.”

  He smiled, “One of life’s blessings.”

  “Yeah?” I questioned, wondering if he had ever been in love. You know, maybe, before he became a man of the cloth. Was that allowed? Probably not, I conceded because falling in love wasn’t a blessing it was a nice big fuck you—but I couldn’t tell that to a priest with Jesus staring down at me.

  “Sure,” he said, rolling his thumb over the crucifix he held in his hands. “Love is raw and beautiful, reminding us that imperfections hold beauty too because no love is perfect, is it?”

  Maybe he was in love once.

  “No I suppose it’s not. It can be ugly sometimes,” I added.

  “Is this one of those ugly times?” he questioned.

  “I guess,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I fell in love with my ex-boyfriend’s brother, not knowing they were brothers,” I turned and looked at the priest. “My ex, he died. Would he still be considered my ex-boyfriend even though there was technically no break up?” I dismissed my question with my hand. “Forget I asked that…you must think I’m crazy,” I bit my lip, the word crazy leaving a sour taste in my mouth. “I take that back, crazy is cruel. It’s such a shallow word. Ignorant and derogatory is what it really is,” I mumbled.

  The priest dropped his hand to mine.

  “Why don’t you slow down and start from the beginning,” he suggested.

  I stared into his warm, inviting eyes as he nodded for me to trust him.

  “Danny,” I whispered, “he’s my ex-boyfriend and he was murdered,” the priest’s eyes didn’t change—I’m sure he had heard it all. He waved his hand encouraging me to speak freely. “I came home one night and found him dead, lying in a pool of his own blood. I was heartbroken, but more than that I was terrified of being alone. Danny was all I had and had only been with him for a short while. I think I loved the idea of us more than I actually loved him. I know it’s horrible but how do you love someone you barely know?” I think it’s okay to fall in love quickly, it’s something we can’t control, the heart wants what it wants, it ties itself to another heart without your consent. However, when it came to Danny, I fell in love with the myth not the man.

  I left out that what I knew was all a lie. That shit was still fresh and not completely processed in my mind. A Fed? Come on now! I’m not even going to touch that one.

  “I know loss, I’ve never held onto anyone I love. Not one person. My mom, I’m sure I loved her when I was a baby, it’s natural. But she loved her drugs more than she loved me. My grandparents, I loved and I knew they loved me, they cherished me, but they died too. Then there was Danny. He was kind, and made me laugh, which was foreign to me. I wasn’t so lonely anymore with him. So when I saw him lying dead, his eyes open, I lay down beside him and returned the favor because no one should be alone when they die. It didn’t matter, I was too late, he was dead already. I couldn’t just leave him so I wrapped my arms around him and hung onto the feeling of belonging to someone before I couldn’t anymore.”

  I took a deep breath, marveling at how easy it was becoming for me to share these parts of myself. Months ago I wouldn’t have.

  “The house went up in flames, the fire spreading so rapidly, completely unattainable. I felt it, the fire eating my flesh but I couldn’t leave him. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smoke, welcomed the burning of my skin and accepted my fate. I would not be lonely anymore. I’d be with Danny.”

  I smiled at the priest as he stared at me.

  “Obviously I turned left when I should’ve gone right because I’m still here and he’s not,” he remained silent. He didn’t have the answers, no one did. I looked back at the cross, thinking he was supposed to have all the answers.

  “I was burned badly, I needed several surgeries and I have had skin grafting done. My scars are ugly and for a long time I let them define the rest of me. I believed I was damaged because I was destined to live life being lonely,” I pointed to the cross and continued, “thought that was what he wanted for me,” I
boldly stated, before turning back to the priest. “So I became the lonely girl, sheltered and just existing, not really living.”

  I sighed. “But then I met Jack. He was rough around the edges, an alluring bad boy that most women can’t deny. I’m sure you’re familiar with the cliché. He’s the guy you want to fix, the guy you think you can change or at least wish you’ll be enough for him to change. At first, I thought the appeal of him was how he made me feel. He noticed the reclusive girl hiding behind the counter of a diner and he brought her out of her shell. I don’t even think he tried very hard, he pushed my buttons and expertly so. I was putty in his hand, a woman at his mercy because Jack Parrish was everything missing in my life.”

  It felt good to share our story with the priest so I continued. “He wasn’t some Heaven sent man, perfectly suited to whisk me off my feet. He was broken, damaged and just as lost as me. He’s hard and closed off to the rest of the world—but for me, his walls crumbled. Each brick surrounding my heart, he pushed out of place and for every one of those bricks that he removed he let one of his own disappear. I don’t know when it happened or how but I fell for him. The cliché became forgotten or maybe it never existed for me because I don’t remember ever thinking I could fix him or change him. I wanted him as he was and I think that’s because he made me feel like I could be myself and he still wanted me. That’s big because at the time I didn’t know who I was so he couldn’t have either. He stood beside me and let me discover the woman I was after the fire. He accepted my insecurities, my hurt and my demons. What kind of woman would I be if I didn’t do the same for him?”

  I paused, looking at the priest with wide eyes. “It was easy to fall in love with him and maybe he was Heaven sent after all.”

  “How so?”

  “He never told me he was Danny’s brother. They were estranged for some time but after Danny died he knew I was a part of his life, I was the survivor and he sought me out,” I said, taking a moment. “He let me go at my pace, revealing my story to him chapter by chapter when he knew it all,” I frowned, remembering standing in front of the mirror as he unwrapped me, stripping me of my insecurities and making me feel desired. That wasn’t a lie.

  Every look, every touch, every promise to give it all if I let him, those weren’t lies. He may have never told me who he was, but there were moments where it was just us—just Jack and Reina—and those moments weren’t lies.

  “I came here thinking I made a wrong turn somewhere along the way. Did I go left when I should’ve gone right?”

  “Sounds like you were meant to turn left because Jack was waiting for you at that left turn,” the priest offered. “His omission of truth doesn’t erase everything else he’s brought into your life. We often believe an uncontrollable force changes the course of our life, and maybe that force nudges you but it’s us who make the final decision. Seems like you have a choice to make. No one or no higher power can make that choice for you,” he glanced at the altar and smiled slightly as he made the sign of the cross, his eyes fixed on the crucifix. “God forgives us of our sins, we should be able to forgive those we love too, don’t you think?”

  He slowly turned his attention back to me and for a split second I wondered why I wasted so much money on therapy when the answers came freely to me.

  “We all deserve a second chance and from what you’ve told me, Jack gave you a second chance. He restored hope in you when you had none left. He may not have been completely honest with you but he chose to tell you the truth and that should hold some merit,” he added.

  I was angry, and I’d probably never understand why Jack chose not to tell me who he was but it didn’t tarnish the way I felt about him. I didn’t want to lose him and not because I feared being alone again but because I loved him with all I had. I wanted to give myself to him, to give him my heart. I wanted to be the women who loved him despite his flaws and when he succumbed to the things he couldn’t control, when his mind went against him, I wanted to bring him back. I wanted Jack Parrish—right then and there, with God as my witness—I chose Jack.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to the priest.

  “For what?”

  “For listening,” I said softly.

  “That’s what I’m here for,” he replied.

  I smiled at him and when he asked me to pray with him I bowed my head and moved my lips, reciting the words I remembered and pretending like I knew the ones I didn’t. I asked him his name and bid Father Gallo farewell. I stepped outside the church and dug into my purse for my phone, dialing Jack’s number as I walked toward my apartment building that was only two blocks away.

  “Please pick up,” I said aloud, frowning when I got his voicemail. “Jack, it’s me. I’m sorry I took off like I did. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain and to be honest I’m not even sure I care to know the explanation. I choose you. I choose us. I’m on my way home but I want to see you. Call me when you get this message,” I went to end the call but lifted the phone back to my ear. “I love you,” I added before disconnecting the call.

  I went to shove the phone back into my purse when I was pulled against a hard body, a hand covering my mouth and a man speaking against my ear.

  “You scream, or make any sudden moves I will slice your throat,” he warned. ‘Nod your head if you understand,” he hissed.

  I quickly nodded my head, my phone dropping to the concrete as he dragged me away, the blade of his knife dangerously close to my neck, forcing me to do as I was told. I closed my eyes and wondered if maybe I should’ve gone right instead of left.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Well, fuck, that blows,” Riggs said, patting Blackie on the back. “Literally, like your car just blew the fuck up.”

  “Yeah, I caught that, thanks for pointing it out though,” Blackie retorted, staring daggers at me. “Get him the fuck away from me.”

  I shot Riggs a warning look before turning around and meeting Bianci’s gaze. “Is this what I owe your visit to?” I tipped my chin outside, referencing the fucking explosion in my parking lot.

  I watched Anthony bite the inside of his cheek as he stared back at me for a minute before turning around toward his mother-in-law.

  Grace Pastore lifted her head and stepped around Anthony to meet my gaze.

  “The last time I visited with Victor he told me if there was any sort of danger, or I felt threatened that I should come here and see you. Now, I don’t know what kind of deal you and my husband have but when I told him what I overheard today he told me to get my ass here as fast as possible,” she said with a flustered sigh. “I went to the café this morning like Victor instructed me to, he wanted me to bring Jimmy our financials, papers and what have you regarding our home. Jimmy didn’t know I was there waiting for him, and I overheard him talking to one of his guys. He was going on and on about making you and your club pay for double crossing him. He said you would be his puppet, and he’d teach Vic a lesson once and for all, showing him who, and I quote ‘is the fucking boss,’” she said, before nodding toward the front door of the clubhouse. “Seems like the puppet master is ready to make moves.”

  I turned to Anthony. “Any idea how he’d know what we had planned for him?”

  “No fucking idea,” he said, shaking his head. “We can’t get in touch with Vic either. She’s sent emails but no response. Might be in the hole.”

  “Fine time for him to get locked in solitary,” I mumbled, turning to Grace. “Thanks for coming and clueing me in,” I commented.

  “It’s Jack, right?” she questioned.

  I nodded, reaching behind my head and cupping my neck.

  “My husband will never see outside those prison gates. I know he will eventually die a prisoner but I’m asking you to let God take him and not have it be at the hand of Jimmy. If there is a way you can help him then please, do so,” she pleaded, her eyes watering with unshed tears. “I know you helped my daughter Nikki and Michael get to safety the night of the shooting. I also k
now you’ve been keeping a watchful eye out on my son-in-law and I want to thank you for that, for keeping what’s left of my family safe.”

  “You’re welcome,” I replied evenly, before exhaling. “Is there anything else you heard? Try to think. The last time you spoke to Victor did he mention Jimmy in any other way?”

  “You mean before he told me to go to the café?” I nodded signaling her to continue. “He just said to bring him the financials,” she added.

  I turned back to Bianci. “And he hasn’t knocked on your door?”

  He shook his head, crossing his arms against his chest. “I don’t think he knows shit, I think he surmises something and maybe he knew Grace was listening and wanted to see if she’d run here. That’s why I took her, in case she was being followed,” he explained.

  “He blew up my fucking car, the bastard knows something is up,” Blackie hissed. “And it’s not the drugs because that shit was pure,” he added disgustedly.

  The door opened to the compound and Pipe and Wolf strode in.

  “The fire is being contained. I called it into our friends over at the N.Y.P.D. and Jones is sending a blue and white over so it looks legit on paper,” Pipe announced, providing a cover for our asses. The last thing we needed was the fucking bomb squad sniffing around our shit.

  “Your truck is toast, man,” Wolf added, eyes on Blackie. “And you almost were too, so who’s going to clue the rest of us in on what the fuck is going on here?” he looked back at me expectantly.

  Pipe glared at Bianci. “This got some shit to do with Pastore?”

  I ran my fingers through my hair roughly, realizing that Blackie was right when he first said this shit would land at the Satan’s Knights doorstep despite my efforts to handle it on my own. I had kept my brothers out of my plans, thinking I could fix this mess without them but Blackie nearly got blown away and now my club was looking at me as if I betrayed them.