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Page 16
Ruthie remained silent. Tobias still held her. He’d refused to put her down once they’d been directed to a trauma room.
“Mr. Edwards, I’d like to speak to Miss Copeland alone,” the doctor said in a kind voice.
He was wondering if Tobias was responsible. Ruthie had to speak up, but her throat was locked. The fear was still there, swirling in her gut, cutting off her words.
“We just remodeled a warehouse space for her painting and she cut herself on a loose piece of metal,” Tobias said in an even, unworried tone.
“Is that true, Miss Copeland?”
Ruthie nodded and buried her face in Tobias’s neck. It was enough, because the doctor cleared his throat and she heard him giving orders for the nurse to get a wound tray together. Then he left while the nurse scurried around the room to do his bidding.
“Stanton is fine, Tobias. Jeremiah’s been informed and has called in Shaw. They’ll be at the office once we’re done here,” Hoenig said from the door.
“We’ll be finished in a bit. Tell Jeremiah I’m taking her to my house first and to have Candace and Finch come over to stay with her while we meet. Hoenig?” Tobias called. “You’ll be riding watch on her too.”
“You got it,” Hoenig responded, and Ruthie tried to place him.
He was a former spec ops boy who’d run the block with Tobias and Jeremiah back in the day. He’d gone a completely different route to getting out of the DM than her brother and her lover had—he’d gone military. Ruthie didn’t know him, though, she just knew of him. The thought of anyone besides Tobias keeping watch over her was abhorrent.
She shivered and Tobias hugged her close. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said softly.
She nodded and winced when the wound pulled a bit. Tobias patted her hip and she sat up. The doctor was back.
“Here we go, Miss Copeland,” he murmured, and set about closing her wound with the Steri-Strips. It took him only a couple of minutes.
“I’ll have the nurse leave you with aftercare instructions,” he informed them.
Ruthie couldn’t respond. She was still locked in her terror, and the trembling was back in full force. The bastard had cut her.
Just that quickly, her terror turned to anger, rolling like a lava tsunami through her blood.
He. Had. Cut. Her.
He. Had. Cut. Her. Man.
The pig.
“I want to kill him, Tobias,” she forced through her dry throat.
He kissed her then, his lips a soothing rain after a period of drought. He took her mind, her worry, her fear, and crushed it to dust under his mouth. He pulled away suddenly and cursed. “He hurt you,” Tobias said in a low, ugly voice. “For that alone, he’ll die.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. His sentiment was so close to hers, she couldn’t dispute it. It would make her a liar.
“Send me the bill for today,” he informed the nurse, and then he shifted Ruthie in his arms and they were once again walking through the hospital.
Rain continued to fall and Ruthie thought it appropriate. It was raining in her soul, too. Fear would be her companion now. Even in this early stage of aftermath she recognized it would be a long time before she’d feel comfortable alone again.
She hated Vessi Gallo.
It took them only a short time to reach Tobias’s house on the outskirts of the city. He took her inside and she heard him mumbling to someone; then he was placing her on the bed, removing her clothing, and sliding the sheets over her body.
“I have to go to the office, baby, and find out what’s going on. Candace and Finch are inside with you. Hoenig is outside. I won’t let Gallo touch you ever again, Ruthie. Goddamn it. He’ll never touch you again,” he said in a violent whisper.
Ruthie nodded and let Tobias tuck her in. Fatigue weighed on her, though she thought she’d never be able to sleep without Tobias by her side.
He stroked her arm, her hair, her face, and as his touch soothed her she found herself drifting.
“I love you,” he said softly.
Sleep took her reply.
Chapter 14
“How is she?” Jeremiah asked the instant Tobias stepped into his office.
Fury poured through Tobias, ugly and red and needing an outlet. His gaze fell on Dante Shaw and he cut a path to the other man, who stood to meet him. Tobias grabbed his lapels and forced him backward until he met the wall. He got in the other man’s face.
“You brought that bastard back into my life and the very motherfucking thing I told you not to let happen has happened within hours of me agreeing to do business with you,” he raged.
“I thought he had already been taken care of, Tobias,” Dante said in a soothing voice.
Tobias pulled him close and then pushed the man against the wall hard. It was a testament to Shaw’s control that he didn’t respond to the threat Tobias posed at that moment. Because Tobias would have gladly ripped the other man’s head off and tossed it out of the fortieth-floor window.
“You thought, Shaw, and in this game, dealing with people like you,” Tobias sneered, “you have to do better than think—you have to know. He obviously isn’t dead and he’s just cut Ruthie Copeland!”
Tobias shoved away from Dante, afraid he would do irreparable damage to the man if he didn’t. To Jeremiah he said, “She’s asleep. Steri-Strips closed the wound. The fucker is great with a knife, didn’t cut her deep but scared the living shit out of her. I’m surprised she went to sleep at all. Tell me Daly is safe?” He turned back to Dante once Jeremiah nodded, leveling the other man with his hardest stare. “I want to know what the fuck is going on right now, Shaw.”
Dante sighed and rubbed his eyes. The big man looked weary as he sat back down. “Sol will be here shortly. My grandfather has been a busy man recently and decided to pay me a visit. Sol went to the airport to pick him up.”
“Cut the shit, Dante,” Jeremiah bit out. A virulent anger rode his face and shoulders. He’d been his sister’s protector her entire life, and to have someone play with her this way was never going to sit well with him. “We don’t have time for family reunions. Why is Gallo here? As far as he knows the port is still Acciai’s.”
“Yes, well, obviously he knows more than that or he wouldn’t be in Atlanta doing his best to draw Tobias’s attention. You made an impression on many people the last time you visited Naples,” Dante said pointedly in his direction.
Tobias flipped him off—a juvenile gesture but all he could manage just then. Ruthie’s face was superimposed on his retinas. Her pale, tear-streaked face, her gasping breaths of pain and fear and the blood coating her throat. He’d almost lost his mind.
His hands tightened into fists and he banged one into the wall, needing the release of energy and aggression, wishing it were Vessi Gallo’s face.
Dante sighed. “In spite of that, my grandfather had led Gallo in another direction, had him settling accounts in New York with the five Mafioso families there. He was to report back last week and never showed. Once I contacted my grandfather to request the rights that are mine by birth, he told me Gallo was in the wind. I hadn’t had time to tell you before Jeremiah called me. Apparently, ‘in the wind’ means Atlanta.”
Tobias growled. “And he’s delivered a message that clearly states he’s unwilling to give up on his vendetta against me. What the hell am I? The one that got away?”
Dante looked him right in the face as he answered. “Yes. No one escapes Vessi Gallo’s knife. The fact that you not only survived but have thrived has been a thorn in his paw the last three years. My grandfather’s hold on the man’s family has been the only thing keeping Gallo from coming after you. I guess that is no longer the case.”
“Why?” Jeremiah asked in a guttural voice.
“The Axe Man cut off the Gallo family. Vessi is no longer a cherished underboss—he is a cancer that my grandfather has excised,” Dante said in a dead voice.
“Did he know this was going to happen before he left for New Yo
rk?” Jeremiah asked calmly.
Dante shrugged. “It is not my grandfather’s way to tell anyone his plans. So I would assume Gallo had no idea. But the man has certain proclivities that have led my grandfather to be disgraced in the countryside he rules with an iron fist, and embarrassing the Axe Man is never a good idea. I’m sure Gallo knew it was coming.”
“Desperate men do desperate things. Maybe he’s hoping to cement the crumbling relationship by assuring Copeland Shipping is taken completely off the map. Maybe my death is a golden ring to toss at your grandfather in an attempt to win back his trust?” Tobias asked.
“The rights to that port were never Gallo’s nor his family’s. They were mine from birth,” Dante responded. “Plus, your death would have been another black eye. They couldn’t kill you the first time and there is no honor in another attempt. Revenge is in our blood, but you were an innocent man. Killing innocents isn’t honorable. No,” Dante said on a deep breath. “Gallo coming after you is personal. I’m just not sure what his next move will be or even if you’re his ultimate target.”
Tobias shrugged and relaxed against the wall. Tension still had his muscles locked, but as he crossed his arms over his chest he realized that giving anybody the impression he was out of control would only work against him. “Don’t look at me. I had never even seen that bastard until I met him that day to discuss the port.”
Dante nodded. “I know, which unfortunately leads me in another direction. You might not be his mission, but you are a vehicle to effect it,” Dante murmured.
“Sir,” Jeremiah’s secretary’s voice came over the phone speaker. “There is a Mr. Dinapoli and a Mr. Acciai here to see you.”
“Send them in,” Jeremiah told her.
Silence descended as Sol Dinapoli entered the room first, casually glancing around, searching for any hidden threats. Tobias’s anger simmered. He hated the damn Mafia. Hated the underworld they prowled with a vengeance that bordered on insanity. When he’d first joined the Dixie Mafia, he’d been searching for an outlet for all the aggression he’d accumulated after living years in the tender (not so much), merciful (not at all) care of Heyward Edwards. The DM had afforded a family of sorts, plus Jeremiah had needed his support.
He’d been a money runner first. Then he’d graduated to enforcer. He and Jeremiah had done things neither was proud of, but they’d done them to survive. His association had waned once he’d entered college and so had Jeremiah’s, but it hadn’t ended entirely until they’d both earned their degrees.
They’d socked money away, because Mafia work paid really well. When they’d pooled their resources and started Copeland Shipping, they’d left the DM behind.
But the Mafia never really let you go, as he was now discovering.
His attention snagged on the tall, portly man who entered behind Dinapoli—the infamous Axe Man. Back in the day, when the DM had been a fledgling offshoot of the East Coast arm of the Sicilian Mafia, stories about the brutality of the Axe Man had abounded.
The man taking a seat as if he owned the joint looked like someone’s grandfather. His pepper hair had run mostly to salt and the cigar he held in his mouth was unlit, though he was chewing on it like it was candy. His shoulders were broad, though his middle had gone to fat. He was a big man who carried himself like he was a good thirty years younger.
He wore a classic black pinstriped suit with a white dress shirt and a bloodred tie. His shoes shone, and as Tobias glanced at him, taking in every nuance, he couldn’t find a hint of the man who it was said killed with impunity and no remorse.
His name came from the weapon he decapitated with—an axe. He had to be at least seventy years old and the lines of his face told the story of his life. Deeply grooved around his mouth and eyes, the man obviously knew how to laugh.
Maybe he did it as he was killing?
Then his gaze rose and the blue of his eyes was startling in their clarity—a calm sea in the midst of a storm. His eyes held the promise of death and retribution.
That gaze speared Tobias, and the man’s smile had fear snaking along his skin. Tobias was all man so it was no small thing for him to be afraid of something, but Vincenzo Acciai instilled that fear in him. With ease.
“Mr. Edwards.” Acciai nodded and gestured for Tobias to sit down. “It is good to see you alive.”
Tobias’s fear dissipated in an instant. Fury replaced it, and he walked behind the chair Acciai had indicated and stood there with his arms crossed. He glanced at Dante and saw the man’s face tighten, but Tobias really didn’t give a shit that he was showing the venerated Axe Man little to no respect.
These men had brought a killer back to his doorstep. He wasn’t here to play footsie or coddle more killers.
Acciai laughed mildly before he took his cigar out of his mouth and placed it in a case, then back in his suit pocket. He didn’t look at Dante, just stared at Tobias with a wry twist of his mouth. “I assume you’ve heard about Gallo?”
Tobias simply nodded, saying nothing.
“He’s turned into quite the disappointment.” He shrugged his massive shoulders and sighed. “His bloodlines don’t run true. His father would have never lost his mind like Vessi. Must be his mother’s family, eh, Dante?”
Dante said nothing, but clearly the exchange had been for his benefit. Tobias wondered at that before Jeremiah moved to stand beside him. A united front. Acciai’s tone was gentle, but it carried a wealth of unfathomable information. The head of the Sicilian Mafia was worried.
Vessi Gallo was a problem for them all now.
“My grandson tells me you are still interested in the Naples port?” Acciai asked.
Sol took a single step back and rested his back on the wall, looking bored but prepared. Tobias sneered at him, still pissed that the man had made a move on Ruthie. Sol didn’t bat an eyelash at Tobias’s aggression.
“We are, but not at the cost of doing business with killers,” Jeremiah said simply.
The silence then was absolute. An insult tossed down. Would Acciai pick it up and come after them? After several long moments Acciai nodded. “We are all killers, gentlemen.” He glanced at Dante, then back to Tobias, though his face remained unreadable. “I never got to apologize, Mr. Edwards, for what happened to you on my watch. It was Gallo’s mistake, but he is my man and as such his transgressions fall on my shoulders. Vessi has made many such mistakes, and it is…regrettable. But now he must be handled.”
His voice, so even and deep, didn’t carry the hint of death, but the word regrettable said it all for Tobias. Vessi Gallo had stepped into a pile of shit of his own making, and his days were numbered.
If Acciai didn’t get him, Tobias would.
“He attacked Ruthie Copeland, I understand. Is the young woman all right?” Acciai asked.
“He cut her. He’s a dead man,” Tobias finally said.
Acciai nodded. “Yes. He’s a dead man walking. But be careful not to step on my toes as you enact your revenge, Mr. Edwards. It could affect our business association and I would hate for that to happen,” the Axe Man said pleasantly.
The fury turned to white-hot rage and Jeremiah placed a hand on Tobias’s arm. Tobias shrugged it off and leaned over the table, placing his hands on the cool surface. Sol went on alert. Dante stood. Acciai remained as he was, a small smirk splitting his face now, which only pissed Tobias off even more.
“Fuck your toes, old man. He came after mine and I don’t care how I have to get him—he’s mine. Keep yourself out of my way and your feet should be fine,” Tobias said between clenched teeth.
Acciai laughed again as he glanced at Dante. “It’s no wonder Vessi hates him so. He’s a survivor.” To Tobias he said, “As I said, we are all killers. I am doing my best to rein Vessi in, but the truth is he’s a little mad and eaten up with jealousy.”
“Of who?” Jeremiah asked.
“My grandson,” Acciai responded immediately. “Dante has always held the very thing Vessi wanted for himself.”
“My empire.” Acciai’s answer was so simple yet so very complex. By Dante’s own admission, indeed, his own actions in taking over the DM, he’d shown he was more than capable of handling the Sicilian Mafia.
“I want to know how he thinks and who his goddamn contacts are,” Tobias demanded.
Acciai shrugged negligently. Tobias thought he really could hate the man. “Crazy doesn’t have a rhyme or reason, Mr. Edwards. Did you not look into the eye of the devil yourself and see the insanity? Who knows what his next move is? As for contacts, well, if any of mine respond to him, offer him solace or communion in any way, they will experience the same fate as Vessi. So any contacts he may have are ones he’s forged on his own. Now, let us turn to other things,” Acciai said with a clear demand of his own.
Tobias rose up to his full height, fists clenched as he tried desperately to control his anger. It was a battle. He’d give the Axe Man another few minutes of his time. Hoenig was keeping an eye on Ruthie, and Finch and Candace were there with her as well. As crazy as Gallo was, he’d have a hard time getting past two hardcore Marines packing cannons to kill a gnat.
“Are you interested in the port or not?” Acciai questioned for the second time.
Jeremiah bristled at Tobias’s side. “I’ve already said we were, old man.”
For the first time since Vincenzo Acciai had walked in the room, his own anger made an appearance. The lines of his face smoothed out and his cheeks rouged. Tobias swore the temperature in the room dropped 20 degrees.
“The next person who calls me ‘old man’ will get a full measure of just how old I am.” Oh, his voice was terrible now.
For some reason Tobias wanted to laugh. The proud man was old, clearly past his prime, but he hadn’t gotten to where he was by being soft.
“They want the port, old man. The business you have is with me, not Copeland Shipping,” Dante bit out, his voice as deep and dark as his grandfather’s.