The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  It was a Cutlass, the car that ran over Jack Jr. and the guy driving it was high as a kite and that’s why he kept going. He was high on heroine and he was an employee of the notorious G-Man. I changed my name to Gregorio because it was the same name as his and with that common thread I thought it would get me in with the G-Man, make him more inclined to bring me into the fold.

  My plan was to get G-Man off the streets because even in prison he still had a crew on the outside pushing the drugs, but he wasn’t working alone. I started to learn bits and pieces of his operation, realizing he had been working with another mobster for years, slowly laying the foundation for their partnership to take over the streets of New York. They had a laundry list of murders under their belt as the mobster worked his way up the ladder. His name is Jimmy Gold, maybe you’ve heard of him?

  You see, I thought if I cleaned up the streets, I’d bring some sort of justice to my nephew’s death. I’d save my brother from the grief he’s allowed to control his life and maybe, just maybe, fix the bond that became broken between us.

  Anyway, I’m in real deep and I think they’re starting to catch on that I’m not who I say I am. But that’s the chance you take when you live a double life.

  I hope you’re well. And if I should leave this earth I hope you know how very thankful I am to you for making me the man that I am. You didn’t have to step in after mom and dad died, but you did.

  Your Brother,

  Danny.

  Bonus Epilogue

  I grabbed the cup holder containing the coffees and shoved a handful of creamers and sugar packets into my pocket before walking out of the hospital cafeteria. After the doctor came to explain Blackie’s prognosis I offered to get us all some coffee and gave the boys some time alone with Blackie.

  I told myself I did it because it’s what any good old lady would do, and I rocked that title like it was no one’s business. But that wasn’t entirely true. The truth was I was afraid to see Blackie. I was afraid I’d look at him and he’d be the reminder of the horror Jimmy caused us both, or worse, I’d remind him of what he went through, every prick of the needle, every track on his arm. Would he look at them and think of me? And if so could I really blame him? I guess I was scared that Blackie would wake up and I’d lose the friend I found in him.

  I stared at the doors in front of me, a familiar wing in the hospital, one I spent many months living inside. I spun around, trying to figure how I ended up at the burn unit but then it didn’t matter did it? I pushed through the doors, and started down the hallway, making my way toward my old room but I stopped when I turned the corner and saw the policemen guarding the doors.

  “Sorry, miss, can’t let you passed this point,” the cop said.

  “It’s okay,” I rasped, clearing my throat. “I took a wrong turn anyway,” I smiled and then my eyes caught the name outside of the door he was guarding.

  Jimmy Gold.

  I turned on my heel and strode away, leaving Jimmy to rot right there in Hell, in the burn unit of the hospital. I hope they let him see his scars before they send him off to jail.

  I finally found my way back to the Intensive Care Unit where Blackie was and bumped into Lacey as she bound through the doors, her cars keys still in her hand.

  “He’s awake?” she asked me frantically.

  I barely nodded my head before she ran past me, dropping her keys onto the floor.

  “Lace, wait…” I paused, the rest of the sentence dying on my tongue.

  Leather and lace.

  When we get out of here will you tell me what it means?

  Yeah.

  No fucking way!

  © Copyright

  Reckless Temptations

  By

  Janine Infante Bosco

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Published by Janine Infante Bosco

  Edited/formatted by: Jennifer Bosco

  Copy Editor: Trish Bacher Editor in Heels

  Cover Design by: Hang Le

  ISBN: 13-9781530304868

  Prologue

  Don’t these bitches know who they’re fucking with and who the fuck I ride with? Pretty ballsy move taking me—or any of the Satan’s Knights for that matter. You would think after that shit went down with Jimmy Gold, people would realize we don’t fucking play around. My club will come for me and when they do these motherfuckers will get down on their knees and tell me they love me. They’ll beg my ass not to slit their throats—but I’ll do it anyway because I’m nobody’s bitch.

  I heard a screech, like nails on a chalkboard, but that wasn’t it. I knew that sound, someone needed a can of WD-40 for that garage door. Stupid fucks couldn’t even spring for an electric door—that shit was still on a chain link.

  Good, maybe these assholes will take the fucking bag off my head so I can spit in their faces and make them wish their mothers aborted their asses. Fuck that, I’d piss on them. Literally, these fucks took my cut, stripped me of all my clothes and tied my naked ass to a metal chair. I had to take a leak, and I was determined to take aim at one of these fuckers when the time was right.

  “采取袋他的头.”

  Chinese, mumbo jumbo.

  Great.

  I would definitely piss on “Jackie fucking Chan.”

  The bag was lifted from my head and someone pulled a chain switch on a lightbulb dangling above me, temporarily blinding me as they said a bunch of shit I didn’t understand.

  These bastards ruined me. I used to love a good eggroll but after this shit, I’ll never look at another one.

  They exchanged more of their shit language before Sun Wu dragged a chair across the concrete floor and sat in front of me.

  “Mr. Riggs, we meet again,” Wu crooned, as he crossed a leg over his knee.

  I wriggled my arms that were tied behind me, trying to free them so I could grab my dick and aim straight for his mouth, but it was no use.

  “Fuck you, Wu,” I sneered, as one of the Red Dragons’ rammed his fist against the side of my face. I wasn’t expecting the blow and bit the inside of my cheek, tasting the metallic flavor of my own blood.

  “I expected more from you, something more original than fuck you, since you and your club have already fucked me over,” he pointed out.

  I turned my head, stared him in the eyes and swished the blood around in my mouth before spitting it at the kung fu warrior, which earned me another fist to my face.

  “You have a sharp tongue Mr. Riggs,” Wu said, lifting his head to meet the eyes of one of his men.

  “Why don’t we cut the bullshit,” I said, spitting more blood from my mouth. “You got a hard on for me or something?”

  “A hard-on,” he scoffed, earning me a glare that could kill.

  Fuck him.

  “Explains why I’m naked as the fucking day I was born. You a faggot or something? I ain’t bending over for you, “Jackie Chan.” Ain’t no fucking way,” I growled.

  “尊重,” shouted the first asshole who punched me.

  “Yeah, whatever the fuck that means! You jerk offs haven’t realized I’m not fluent in your dick language,” I spat, losing my patience with this game of cat and mouse. I turned my eyes back to Wu, “Why the fuck am I here?”

  “You will tell me where my drugs are and why I’m burying three of my men and a bunch of whores.” He held out his palm and one of his men handed him a leather whip.

  What the fuck?

  “Sounds like you bitches rang in the Chinese New Year early,” I said, eyeing the fucking whip. “What are you people into? Like it rough, do ya?”

  Sun Wu uncrossed his legs and stood, slapping the whip against the palm of his hand and crouched
down in front of me.

  “Mr. Riggs, I’m giving you a chance to save yourself right now and tell me what happened to my drugs?”

  “I don’t know dick about what you’re talking about. If you’re missing some of your drugs maybe you motherfuckers should turn on the news. That crazy mobster, Jimmy Gold, got caught with a shit ton of them. Maybe he’s your guy,” I snarled, cocking my head to the side. “Sucks for you though, that mofo is sitting cozy in the burn unit at Lutheran Medical. I heard his dick got singed off, maybe you can lend him yours…that’s if you can find it,” I said, winking at him.

  I didn’t have a clue as to where this guy was going or what he was fishing for—there was no way in hell they could’ve known it was us. I made sure I took the proper precautions before we ransacked their stash house—all fingers pointed to Jimmy Gold.

  He snapped his whip against my shoulder and I yelped, more from shock than from pain.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me!”

  I gritted my teeth, lifting my head to meet his slanted eyes.

  “Jimmy Gold took your fucking shit, we don’t ride with the mob no more, not since Victor went away. Now unless you have an issue with the gun deal I suggest you cut these fucking ties around me and let me go,” I grunted. “You’re only making it worse for you and the deal you have with our club.”

  “How’s that?” He asked thoughtfully.

  “You think the Bulldog will do business with you after you fucked our truce? You can kiss that deal goodbye after he finds out you took me,” I roared.

  “The Bulldog pissed, as you people put it, on our deal the minute you stole from me.”

  “Nobody took your fucking drugs,” I hissed.

  Three more lashes of the whip, three more marks on my flesh, secured the three bullets I’d put in this pricks head.

  “Untie me and let me fight like a fucking man. Or are you Dragons too pussy to unleash me,” I growled.

  He laughed, cracking the whip and branding my chest with another fresh mark from the leather. I gritted my teeth through the fresh sting before glaring at him.

  Give me more.

  I’ll take everything you got.

  But I will come for you motherfucker.

  “You have a lot of faith in your club. You think Jack will come riding to your rescue? You’re nothing to him but a pee on that he uses to tweak his surveillance. You’re the eye in the sky, someone who can be replaced. You’re not his heart or his right hand. They won’t come for you. They don’t even know you’re gone.”

  For a smart man, he made a pretty stupid move, using one of the oldest tricks in the book, trying to get me to turn on my club. Wu took the wrong brother, I’m no rat. I’ll burn in Hell before I give up my family, before I give up the Satan’s Knights.

  Whip me motherfucker.

  Give me all you got.

  And so he did, him and his brothers took a chance a piece, cracking the whip and balling their firsts. My skin felt like it was on fire, I was bleeding from one of my eyes and spitting blood from my mouth.

  Give me more.

  “Enough,” Wu ordered, before one of the Dragons could pound in my face a little more.

  “This is how it’s going to work, Mr. Riggs. You’re going to tell me why my drugs are sitting in an evidence room. You’re going to make me understand why Jack Parrish wants you dead,” he insisted. “Because he does you know, sacrificing you and the rest of the club for a piece of pussy, that’s some fearless leader you brothers have there,” he continued. “Because if you don’t I’m going to find everything and anything you love and I’m going to tear it apart. You know how it works and if you think what that stupid prick Gold did was fucked up, how he took Jack’s vice president and his woman and made them pay for his sins, you haven’t seen anything yet. When I’m through with you, you’re going to sing to the Lord and beg for His mercy as you stare at the blood of those you love on your hands.”

  “You stupid bastard,” I scoffed, laughing in Wu’s face. “You took the wrong brother. I ain’t got shit and as far as love goes—I only got love for the reaper on my back,” I rasped, leaning as close as my confinements would allow. “I won’t sing to the Lord but I’ll rejoice with the Devil when I take your sorry ass down.”

  “Oh no, I’ve got the right brother,” he assured, turning around and pulling back a curtain that lined the back wall of the garage, revealing a bunch of flat screen televisions.

  “What the fuck is this, movie night?” I questioned, trying to figure out what he was up to.

  “I’m a very patient man, Mr. Riggs, I will wait and bide my time but I’ll always get my revenge. I will take back what is mine. The Knights took my product and they’ve killed three of my men—they owe me and I will collect. So, one last chance, one shot to tell me the truth or you and yours will be the first I take.”

  “We’ll see about that motherfucker,” I growled.

  I’m going to come for you motherfucker.

  Gonna give you all I got.

  He turned around to face the screens and pulled a remote control from his pocket. He aimed it at the wall of televisions, bringing each of them to life. I peered at the screens with my good eye, slowly taking in each frame. I was thankful for all the red marks on my skin and the black eye because the blood drained from my body. The stash house was wired from the street to outside and back to the closets inside. Everything looked as it should. The time stamps all had the same date and time, every frame was perfectly adjusted to the footage we wanted them to see that day.

  “Can you see what I see?” Wu sang.

  My eyes scanned each frame slowly until they stopped and zeroed in on one, the one that showed Jack and me in the hallway.

  Oh shit.

  I cringed, closing my eyes as I lifted the ski mask and bared my face to the camera. Wu paused the frame, hit another button and brought the same image up on all the screens. He turned to me, his eyes meeting mine, and he smiled knowingly.

  He had me.

  “It’s time to send your club a message,” he informed me, as he looked over my shoulder at one of his boys.

  He wasn’t blowing smoke. I had fucked myself and royally too. Sun Wu had everything he needed to wage a war between the two clubs. He had everything he needed to be a man of his word and make us all pay.

  I had no doubt that he’d start with me.

  Then it dawned on me—his words, his threats, they all of a sudden had meaning.

  One last chance, one shot, to tell me the truth or you and yours will be the first I take.

  Lauren.

  Pea.

  One reckless move would change my whole life, actually two. One that changed my life forever and another that would ruin it.

  I heard the sound of a machine vibrating before something crashed against my skull and everything faded to black.

  Chapter One

  Join an MC, it will be fun, they said. But no one mentioned babysitting a bunch of mobsters or getting smacked in the head with a frying pan by one of their mothers. This shit was worse than hazing. I knew I was a prospect, and I had to eat shit for a while before I became a patched member of the Satan’s Knights, but this was fucking bullshit.

  “Does your mother know you’re part of a gang?” The Italian nutcase, Maria Bianci, asked as she climbed the stairs leading to her daughter’s apartment. It surprised me that I hadn’t killed the woman yet. I’m not going to lie, there was a time or two when I thought about it, but the bitch was mobbed up and I wasn’t a patched member yet.

  Her son, Anthony Bianci, was some wise guy in the mob and tonight he and his girl had been attacked. Bianci’s chick was the daughter of mob boss Victor Pastore, or “Mr. Soprano,” as I like to call him. Tonight, was the grand opening of some fancy club of his but instead of dancing and drinking the night away they dodged bullets. How the fuck I’m in the middle of this shit, I’ll never know. Jack Parrish, the president of the Satan’s Knights, ordered me to grab “Mama Leone” over here and her gran
dkid, or half a grandkid, I don’t know the deal, but there was a kid and Bianci’s mother was watching it.

  I did as I was told, grabbed mommy dearest and the boy, delivered them safely to Anthony Bianci, only for him to take the kid and leave me with his maniac of a mother. Not even a thank you, Riggs. Say what you want about bikers, but these mob people were fucked. They were rude and their women were fucking violent. Imagine marrying one of these broads, she’d likely throw the fucking kitchen sink at you if you forgot to put the seat down after you took a piss. This one right here, would probably cut your balls off.

  “Well? Does she?” She asked, glaring over her shoulder at me.

  “I don’t know lady, she’s dead,” I sneered.

  My mother was very much alive, living the dream, married four times and all that but I wanted nothing more than to get the woman in front of me, who was busting my balls, to shut her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, pausing for a moment to stare at me. “She must be rolling in her grave,” she continued, making the sign of the cross before knocking on her daughter’s door.

  See? Crazy. She was fucking crazy. Who says shit like that after you tell them your mother is dead?

  The door swung open, and a girl stood there wearing nothing but a towel in the doorway. Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel.

  The girl’s eyes widened as she stared at Maria.

  “Mrs. Bianci,” she exclaimed, moving to stand behind the door to cover herself. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Mia, do you always answer the door in a towel?” Maria retorted.

  “Um, no not usually,” Mia stammered.

  “You going to bitch about what the girl is wearing or you going to ask to be invited inside?” I chimed in, hoping to get a better glimpse of this Mia character.

  “I’m sorry. He’s right, come inside please. Does Lauren know you’re visiting?” she asked politely, as she opened the door wider allowing us room to step inside.