Chaos

by J. C. Cliff

  The last thing I need is for her to put up a fight. It’s not just about us anymore. The entire club is involved now, and they deserve to know how deep they’re in with the mob.

  There’s still a huge part of me that believes she was kept in the dark about her ex’s work, and I pray she was guileless about her father’s business. But that’s a stretch. After all, everyone on the east coast has heard of the Signorile crime family.

  By the time we arrive at the gated community the Signorile’s reside in, it’s nearly eight o’clock at night. Wiz being the ever-so-savvy computer tech he is, was able to tap into the Signorile security system and got the code to gate, making it easy for us to roll through the neighborhood. For someone with a GED, he sure as fuck knows his shit. He also was able to get us a detailed view of the land and a feel for how many security guards the don keeps on hand, as well as where they’re stationed on the property.

  Now, the tech genius, along with another brother, are riding in a cage, leading us through a neighborhood I’m sure belongs on an episode of The Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Behind the van, Badger and Rush ride hot on his tail, followed by the rest of us. With the amount of men on bikes riding through suburbia hell, there is no chance of being stealthy. Every rich-as-fuck motherfucker in earshot can hear our thunder and, fuck me, if that don’t spike my adrenaline.

  For a high-profile gangster, you’d think Signorile would tone it down and live life little more modestly. But judging by the size of his house, the man doesn’t give two shits about flying under the radar. It’s almost like he’s taunting the authorities by flashing his criminal enterprise in their face.

  Makes me wonder if Gianco is anything like his former father-in-law. Does he live a lavish lifestyle too, one funded by corrupt shit? Did he spoil Ree with diamonds and furs, keeping appearances while he fucked around on her?

  The more I know about this bastard, the closer I’ll be to understanding what happened to my sister. The only link I have is him and Red Dawn, but if he’s the supplier, odds are he knows something.

  Maybe the prick never met my sister, but he knows who’s running his product and that’s a step in the right direction. If I can find her dealer that might lead me to uncovering her murderer.

  Before I go after Ree’s ex-husband and demand the cunt answer my questions, I need to get her out of here and make sure she’s out of harm’s way when all this shit rears its head. Once I’m sure she’s good and I get the information out of Gianco, I’ll put this bullshit of him stalking her to rest.

  As we pull into the circular driveway and kill our engines, the motion-censored lights shine on us, illuminating the sea of leather and chrome filling the cobblestone path to Signorile’s house.

  Rush decided we weren’t going into the don’s house guns blazing and so here we are, a bunch of hardcore bikers knocking on the door like we’re Signorile’s fucking guests.

  It’s fucking laughable.

  Before Rush can reach for the brass knocker on the door, I rap my knuckles against the etched glass panel.

  “Patience, motherfucker,” he growls beside me. “Or you’ll get us all fucking killed.”

  Dropping my hands to my side, I clench my fists and turn my eyes to the three other men standing along on the front porch like a bunch of schmucks. Tank, Dutch, and Spinner stare at the door, ready to pounce once the door swings open. The rest of the club is circling the mansion, securing their positions.

  Ten seconds later, Rush rings the bell and an ethnic woman answers the door. Her eyes widen as they move from one burly biker to the next. She moves to slam the door shut but I slip my foot past the threshold, keeping it open.

  “What do you want?” she asks, a heavy Spanish accent on her tongue.

  “I want Annmarie,” I demand.

  “She—she no here,” she stutters. Realizing this bitch is going to be a problem, I kick the door with the steel tip of my boot.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me,” I growl, stepping into her space. She takes a few steps back, and I watch her neck as she swallows, fear evident in her eyes. Knowing I shook her up, I walk further into the house and my brothers follow. My eyes sweep around the grand foyer to the spiral staircase and back to the maid.

  “Who’s in charge here?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.

  “Please, mister,” she begs. “No one is here right now.”

  Miraculously the bitch loses the accent, causing me to laugh in the lying cunt’s face. Aside from dropping the broken English bit, she’s trying to tell me a man on his fucking death bed isn’t home. Like he’s out playing poker with his fucking friends.

  Grabbing the bitch by the neck, I slam her against the wall. She struggles, trying to cry out but the grip I have on her prevents her from making any noise other than gasping for breath.

  “Let’s try this again, shall we,” I grind out, watching as her eyes go as wide as saucers. “I don’t want to hurt you but, bitch, I will, and I’ll do it with a fucking smile on my face. Comprende?” I ask, mocking her fake as shit Spanish accent.

  “Yes,” she rasps, the word barely audible.

  “You take me to her,” I order, easing up on her neck so she can speak.

  “Yes,” she replies, nodding her head.

  I remove my hands from her neck and grab her arm instead, pressing my fingers so deep into her skin she whimpers in pain.

  “This way,” she instructs, jerking her head toward the long hallway. Following her lead, I glance around, hoping to find some sign of life, but the house is quiet. Thinking she might be pulling my chain, I squeeze her arm a little tighter and lean into her, my breath hot against her ear.

  “You better not be fucking with me,” I growl.

  Shaking her head, she lifts her free hand to her neck and rubs at the handprints I’ve left behind. A moment later she comes to halt in front of a door and juts her chin toward it.

  “The basement,” she reveals.

  Narrowing my eyes, I glance between her and the door wondering if this is some half-cocked decoy. Judging by the fear in her eyes I don’t think she has the guts to cross me.

  “Anything you want to tell me before I open that door?” I ask, squeezing her arm for extra emphasis. Swallowing, she holds up two fingers.

  “Her mother and husband are down there with her,” she whispers.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I give Spinner the signal to take this bitch out to cage for insurance purposes. With a nod, he takes a hold of the maid and covers her mouth with his other hand, dragging her down the foyer.

  As they walk away, I turn to Rush. “I don’t want to wait for back up.”

  Biting the inside of his cheek, he reaches into his cut for his gun and glances at the door.

  “You think we can take them?” Tank questions as Rush loads his Glock.

  “The mother is no sweat,” I tell him. “Gianco might be carrying though.”

  “Time to find out,” Rush growls.

  Reaching for my own piece, I draw the safety back and aim it at the door.

  “It’s time we introduce Gianco to Chaos,” Rush says. “Be prepared for fire, brother.”

  With a nod, I open the basement door and move swiftly, charging down the steps with Rush and Tank on my heels. We sound like a wild heard of elephants as we make our way to the bottom of the steps.

  A high-pitched scream sounds to my left and on instinct, I spin around and aim my gun in that direction. As I hone in on a feminine form lying lifeless on the floor, Tank uses his military background to scope out our surroundings. The room is dimly-lit, making it hard to decipher for sure if the woman on the floor is Ree, but that don’t stop me for going to her. As I make my way toward her, I try to pinpoint where the mother and ex-husband might be.

  “Blade!” Tank yells from behind me. I turn around to find both him and Rush holding a man and woman at gunpoint. “We got ‘em.”

  Within two steps I stand beside Tank and point my gun at who must be none other than Gianco. “You bas
tard,” I grit out, seething with fury.

  “Blade,” he responds in an eerie, calm tone.

  “How the fuck do you know me?” I ask, inching closer as my finger tightens around the trigger. “And, why the fuck is Ree passed out?”

  “I know everyone,” he tells me, arrogant to the bone.

  My eyes shift to the steely eyed woman standing next to him. There’s no mistaken the resemblance she bears to her daughter.

  “You an advocate of locking up daughters in a dank cellar?” I ask, my tone accusing. By the look in her eyes, I’d say she was. She doesn’t look put out in the least over Ree being lifeless on the hard floor.

  “Who the fuck are you?” she asks with an air of authority. “I have police on their way as we speak right now, so I’d be careful what you do,” she threatens.

  “That’s good,” I mock. “Be happy to talk to ‘em.”

  Her warning doesn’t affect us and by the way she rolls her eyes, I’d say the bitch is frustrated.

  “What do you want?” she hisses the question.

  “Ahh,” I start off, “that’s easy. I came for Ree.”

  “You take her, you’ll be dead before you get out the front door,” Gianco says in a low, menacing tone.

  “The fuck he will,” Rush growls, turning to Tank. “Grab him,” he orders, aiming his gun between Gianco’s eyes. “You’re coming with us.”

  Taking a step back, Gianco reaches behind him and draws a weapon. I burst out in sardonic laughter.

  “You dumb fuck. What do you think you’re gonna do? You’ll only have time to kill one of us before you’re taken down.”

  Part of me wants to leave this cunt in Rush and Tank’s capable hands and go to Ree, but the other part knows I can’t show this prick an ounce of weakness. I fight not to compare her to Carrie, but I found my sister in a similar state. If this fuck hurt her, I’ll gut him like a fish.

  A flash of fury rushes through me and in one swift move, I kick the gun out of Gianco’s hand. In a flash, Tank tackles him to the floor and pins him down. Gianco struggles, grunting and cursing until Tank smacks him in the head with his gun and maneuvers him, tying the bastard’s hands behind his back.

  My eyes dart to the mother and I see Rush has his forearm pressed against her neck. “Go,” he orders. “I won’t let this bitch out of my sight.”

  I look at Annmarie’s mother and tell Rush, “Shoot her if you have to. It’s time we get some answers.”

  Without giving the woman another glance, I hurry toward Ree and drop to my knees beside her. Rolling her on her back, my stomach twists at the sight of her and I gently brush her gold locks away from her face. Running my hands up and down her arms, I inspect her body for injuries. Not seeing anything, I gently shake her.

  “Ree—baby. Wake up, it’s me, Blade.”

  With no sign of blood, I concede the motherfucker must’ve drugged her. At the thought, anger swarms through me. If I didn’t need answers from Gianco he’d be dead.

  Ree’s head lolls to the side and she lets out a few whimpering moans. Hope fills me, and I nudge her again.

  “Ree, darlin’, wake up,” I plead. “I’m here.” I continue coax, caressing her cheeks with the backs of my hands. The longer her eyes remain closed, the more my chest constricts.

  “Blade?” she whispers.

  “Yeah, baby, I’m here. You’re safe now.”

  Her eyes flutter open and quickly close as she lifts a hand to her head. Opening them once more, she struggles for focus. My hands shake as I wait with baited breath for her to speak. My mind flashes to my sister and before I realize what I’m doing I lift my eyes to the ceiling and silently thank God for letting me find Ree alive.

  Ree whimpers in pain and I drop my gaze back to her, watching as her face scrunches and she lifts both hands to the sides of her head.

  “Who did this do you, honey?” I question.

  Seeing her in agony eats away at me and I need to know who is responsible for her discomfort. I don’t reckon her bastard of an ex or her cunt of a mother are going to divulge shit.

  “D-Dean,” she say, closing her eyes again.

  My hand makes a fist and it’s all I can do to sit here by Ree’s side and not get up and put a bullet in the fucker.

  “C’mon, darlin’,” I urge. “Let me help you sit up.”

  As I slide an arm under her, I slowly maneuver her into an upright position. The heaving pounding of boots charging down the stairs sounds. Unsure who to expect, I release a deep breath as Brick, Dutch, Saber, Spinner, and Wiz appear in my line of sight. Rush catches them up to speed as Spinner makes his way to my side.

  “Get me some water for her,” I tell him.

  Taking off for the stairs, he rushes back with a bottle of water. I unscrew the cap and bring the bottle to her lips, forcing her to drink.

  “Just a few sips, Ree,” I command softly to her.

  “Everyone is secured,” Saber says, squatting down beside me. “Is she able to move?”

  “I don’t think so. She’s very weak.”

  The only reason she’s sitting up is because I’m holding her. Once I let her go, she’s going to drop like a sack of potatoes.

  “She’ll have to ride in the van. Wiz can ride your bike back,” he says.

  I guess my actions have made it obvious I have no intention of letting Ree leave my sight.

  Slicing my eyes back to the rest of my brothers, I spot both, Dean and the mother tied at the ankles and wrists.

  “He’s going to kill you,” Ree barely gets out, causing my gaze to fall back on her.

  “Who, darlin’?” I coax.

  “Dean,” she whispers, staring at me through hooded eyes. I can see the tears build, and the ice around my heart starts to crack. “Blade—”

  “Ssh,” I tell her hoarsely. “Save it for later.”

  She swallows hard as she slowly shakes her head from side to side. The tears fall and her lip quivers, causing my eyes to narrow as she struggles to tell me something.

  “I know who killed Carrie,” she cries.

  The moment the words leave her lips, my world spins. The surrounding audience fades and all I can do is look at Ree for the answers.

  “What the fuck you talking about?”

  My heart pounds and beads of sweat form along my hairline as I wait for her to say something, to give me what I’ve yearned to know.

  “Blade,” she cries, “Please—please, don’t hurt my mother.”

  Her mother.

  Her fucking mother.

  It can’t be. Why the fuck would her mother kill my sister?

  Shaking my head, I move to lay her back down, deciding the drugs are doing the talking.

  “You’re drugged, darlin. You don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s wait ’til you sober up, yeah?”

  Finding her strength, she shakes her head and grabs a hold of my forearm. Our eyes lock, and I can tell she’s very aware of what’s going on.

  “Dean got her pregnant,” she tells me. “She got in the way. I didn’t know.” She sobs, her shoulders shaking. “I knew nothing.”

  Rendered speechless, I try to comprehend what she’s telling me, but all I can picture is Carrie’s lifeless body in the morgue.

  Rush steps in, kneeling beside me and starts to drill Ree for answers. My ears ring and his voice fades as I turn my head and stare at Dean.

  “They want me to re-marry him,” Ree says, causing my eyes to snap back to her.

  “Over my fucking dead body,” I growl.

  “Cool it,” Rush orders, not taking his eyes off Ree.

  “He threaten you?”

  She gives a small nod then adds, “My mother too.”

  Rush clenches his jaw.

  “Make me understand, girl, why the fuck is it so important you marry this bastard?”

  “They said if I don’t remarry him, they’ll hurt him…,” she chokes out. “They’ll kill him!”

  “Who?” I grind out.

  “My father!
”

  Suddenly it all makes sense. With Ree’s old man on his death bed, the second in line for the man’s empire would be his underboss. If Ree marries Dean, they can push him to take over the father’s interest.

  “It’s a power play,” I blurt. “They want control over the Signorile family when the boss kicks the bucket.”

  Realizing how harsh my words are for Ree to hear, I take her hand and give it a squeeze but keep my attention focused on Rush. “It’s a fucking classic takeover.”

  My sister already put a glitch in their plan by becoming pregnant and she paid the price with her life. If Ree doesn’t follow through with their orders, she’ll suffer the same fate. Well, not on my fucking watch.

  “Dean marries into the family,” I tell Rush, “and he stands in line to inherit the family business.”

  “Yes,” Ree says, confirming my theory. “He can make a play for my father’s position once he dies if he’s married to me. Otherwise, the organization will automatically go to the underboss and my mother fears she’ll lose her status.”

  I watch as Rush mulls over the information, and I contemplate how I’m going to handle the situation. Ree’s mother needs to pay for what she did to Carrie, but fuck, I can’t shoot her in cold blood right in front of her daughter.

  “What the fuck?” Dutch says from behind me. Rush and I turn around just as a man descends from the stairs.

  “Daddy,” Ree whispers beside me. My eyes leave the frail man and move back to Ree. She struggles to her feet, but I keep her down, unsure what the fuck is happening. The man looks like The Walking Dead not the powerful mob boss who controls Long Island.

  Tank moves to the bottom of the stairs and Mr. Signorile holds up a hand, stopping him from speaking.

  “I have no beef with your club,” he tells Tank. “You came to save my daughter and for that, I’m thankful,” he says, his voice strong and full of conviction. As sickly as he is, he keeps his posture perfect, making it easy to tell this is a man who still exudes power.

  Stepping around Tank, he turns to his wife and glares at her. The woman cowers and inches back in fear.