by J. C. Emery
“Stand up,” a thick New York accent orders from behind me. I jump in place, so wholly mesmerized and disgusted by the dead man who lies beside me. I scramble to my feet, terrified of delaying, and try to mentally brush off the ache from my battered shin. When I pivot to turn toward the voice, an arm shoots out and pushes me forward and demands that I not turn around. “You will live through this should you choose to heed my advice. I came for only one thing and do not wish war with Forsaken.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I say. Every word is laced with venom, fully intent on pissing him off. There’s a reason this man killed the other guy, though neither are on my side, and that worries me. I barely understand why everything’s gone to hell around here let alone entertaining the idea of more than one organization trying to get their hands on mafia royalty. This shit is probably why Dad and his brothers drinks so much and smoke so much of their own product. Otherwise, I don’t know how they get through any given day.
“Chey!” Dad screams from beyond the trees. Rustling sounds explode, along with the sound of a herd of men trampling the untouched earth.
“Stand down, or she’s dead!” the man screams as loud as I’m thinking he’s capable of.
“It wasn’t me!” I shout. “I’m fine!” Lies. I’m so not fucking fine, but what the hell am I supposed to say? No, please come and kill this psychopath who’s going to kill me before you get here? I’ll pass, thanks.
The sounds stop, and everything is quiet in the forest once more. Dad barks so loud that his voice echoes around me, saying, “We’re gonna get you out safely, baby girl!”
The man pushes me forward with his hand once more. “Take me to the front door.”
I comply, walking slowly and avoiding any more stray pieces of wood I could fall on. As it is, my shin makes walking uncomfortable with the way my jeans have torn and rub against the wound. But I don’t focus on that, or else I might cave and lose my mind right here and now. No, one foot in front of the other and eyes on the ground. Jeremy’s gun is less than five feet away, and I have to get back to it. He wouldn’t have dropped it without being forced to if he didn’t intend for me to grab it.
“Good girl,” the man says in praise of, I suppose, my not fighting him. “That man would have killed you for sport. I’m not that cruel, but I will sacrifice you for the principe if I must.” We come to a block of redwoods that forces us to deviate from our straight path to the house. I choose to go to the right, bringing me closer to Jeremy’s gun, now only about three feet away.
“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” he says, catching where my attention has drifted. He barely has the words out when another man approaches, disturbing the quiet forest with his heavy footfalls, from someplace behind me. The man behind me spins around at the noise and lets out a relieved sigh.
“What’s with the gunfire?” the newcomer asks with a similar East Coast flair to his speech. I duck down quietly and cringe at the pain that radiates from my shin but am careful to stay as silent as possible. The newcomer’s eyes fall to the dead man only feet away, and he lifts his gun toward the man who killed him. “Tony was right,” he says to the killer. “You’ve turned on your family—and for what? A fucking rat and a prince who doesn’t deserve the legacy he’s been gifted.”
My mind races to process this new information while I slowly lean toward the gun. It’s barely out of reach, and I don’t know if I can get to it without making more noise. I’m a pretty good shot—Dad’s seen to that—but I’m no expert. I’m not Ian, who can accurately hit his target even in motion and without much visibility.
“You forget that Tony doesn’t have the rank to give anybody orders. He’s a fucking soldier running around like a capo or underboss, making decisions he has no goddamn right to make,” the killer says. His voice is calm and smooth, triggering a memory from recent months. The same voice came from the man who stood against my Bug in the school parking lot telling me he needed to speak with my dad. Leo Scavo.
“Tony represents our future.”
“If Tony is our future, then I want none of it.”
“I’ll make sure your mother remembers you as a man of honor,” the man tells Leo as he cocks his gun. Even standing behind Leo, I can see how angry he is. His neck turns red, and his shoulders straighten like he’s preparing for a fight.
If I don’t do something to distract the unnamed man, he’s going to kill Leo, and I’ll be in a worse situation than I already am. Thinking quickly on how to handle the situation, I stretch my arm out for the gun but come up short by no more than three inches. I’m leaning too far to the side and lose my balance, falling on my hip. The rustling of the fallen leaves and twigs beneath me redirects the attention of both men.
The man I don’t know narrows his dark eyes and lowers his gun until I’m staring down the barrel. Leo steps off to the side and moves to cock his gun as discreetly as possible. From his new angle, he’s better equipped to take the other man out. The stranger keeps his gun pointed at my head but turns his body and face toward Leo.
“Prove to me that you’re still a standup guy,” he says to Leo.
I may have grown up with a rowdy motorcycle club and not a mafia family, but a lot of the language is interchangeable. This guy has already called Leo’s loyalty into question once and got away with it, but doing it twice is no doubt dangerous. With any luck, Leo will take this guy out like he should. If it were my dad, he wouldn’t stand for such an insult.
Sure enough, Leo raises his gun and points it at the guy’s head. “I owe you nothing. Do not forget that.”
The man steps forward, creeping closer to me, and with his attention still on Leo, he smiles. It’s a sick combination of amusement and arrogance that I can’t stomach. He seems to think Leo is the betraying the family because he’s not on board with Tony’s agenda. I may not be privy to even half of what’s going on between the club and the Mancuso crime family, but I know the basics. Tony is the reason Alex had to leave New York. Without his bullshit temper tantrum, nobody ever would have had to know that Alex made the mistake of trusting the wrong person. As far as I can see it, if Leo isn’t onboard with Tony, then he’s not really that much of a threat to us. He told me the man he shot would have taken pleasure in hurting me. Other than keeping the peace—and right now that means keeping me alive—Leo had no reason to kill that man. He could have let him hurt me and then used him to help get to Michael, but he didn’t. He didn’t have to kill him right then—he chose to. Maybe, just maybe, Leo isn’t really the enemy after all.
“Then you’ve made your choice.” The man moves to redirect his gun toward Leo.
I have to act now, or I’ll lose my chance. Reaching for Jeremy’s gun, I lift it quickly, unlock the safety, cock the barrel back, and train it on the man who is set on killing the only person who might be able to stop the bloodshed.
The man’s eyes slide over to me and widen in surprise. Shock registers on his face for just a moment before he masks it with a cool indifference and corrects his aim to Leo’s chest. Leo has been still all this time, seemingly waiting to react to whatever may happen around him. There are three people, and all three of us have a weapon and know how to use it. Unless two of us can manage to form an alliance, these woods are going to get very bloody very fast.
“Put down the gun,” I say to the man across from me.
He ignores me and snarls at Leo. “You would prefer the company of trash over your oath.”
I really do hate to be called trash. People in fancy cars and pricey suits always want to judge us because we would rather live it up in comfort without pretense than to force ourselves to pretend as though were something we’re not. And I’m fucking sick of it.
I squeeze the trigger with my pointer finger, aiming the gun at the guy’s chest. I know better than to shoot for any reason but to kill. That’s one of the first lessons dad taught me when he first introduced me to the guns back when I was in kindergarten. Before that, we had always had guns around the house, but
I knew better than to ask to touch one. It’s not a toy. It’s a weapon designed for destruction.
My bullet lands in the guy’s shoulder, more than six inches left of my intended target. Leo raises his gun, and without a moment’s notice, he’s fired and landed two more bullets into the guy’s chest. His body falls backward, and his gun spills from his hand.
CHAPTER 25
April
12 months to Mancuso’s downfall
Leo eyes me, his gun still raised, and starts to turn toward me. I reposition and stand quickly, pointing my gun at him. We’re at a stalemate.
“If you shoot me, you won’t walk away from it,” he says.
“You’re outnumbered. You may kill me, but I’ll scream before I die. You have a gun trained on the sergeant at arms’s daughter. Do you really think you’ll walk away from that?”
“It seems we have a situation, then.”
“No, I don’t think you want to cause any damage. If you wanted to, you could’ve hurt Mindy and Holly when you kidnapped them. But you didn’t. You could’ve hurt Gloria when you went back to New York asking questions. But you didn’t. And you could have hurt me, but I’m still standing.”
“I didn’t realize how much of their business Forsaken shared with their women.”
I smile, knowing full well this guy’s history with Alex. He’s young and attractive and obviously well built, but he’s got some kind of major damage about women to think it acceptable to barter for one. Mancuso and his men would never willingly share details of their business with the women in their lives. They are to be pretty and seen, but most definitely never heard.
“They don’t.” Feeling brave, I smirk. “A good friend of mine once told me that men will never willingly share their secrets. So I took matters into my own hands.” It’s not like after this the club won’t know anyway.
“Ah, I see you’ve made friends with my princess,” he says.
I shake my head. “She’s not your princess. She’s our Alex.”
“What do you hope to accomplish by pointing the gun at me?”
I’m so tense and terrified in this moment that I’m scarcely able to keep my target in sight. “The same thing you’re hoping for—a means to an end. Now, what do you want with Michael?”
He’s silent, holding out for several long, suffocating moments. His brow line is smooth, his jaw is relaxed, and his eyes seem decided. There is no confusion in this man.
“I belong to an organization that has failed to provide a leader. An ignorant, self-absorbed, bloodthirsty twit has attempted to take over. Michael was sent here by that twit, and as it stands, he is the only person who remains in my family that I can trust.”
“The way I see it is that you could be of use to my family. I’m tired of losing them to this war. If we don’t figure out a way to put an end to it soon, there won’t be any of us left—in my family or yours.”
“You’re not patched, and you never will be. You don’t have the authority to create an alliance with me.”
“No, but I am the only chance you have of getting out of here alive. The only way my father, my boyfriend, and my uncles will leave your heart beating is if I demand it. The way I see it, you don’t have a choice.”
“I need to speak with Michael. Gloria claims your club is treating him well, but I need to see him alive before I make any deal with you.”
Think, Cheyenne. Think. I need something more for Leo to trust me. Crap.
I tilt my head slightly to the right and look to the house. From this angle, I can see the shadow of a man standing watch at the front door. He adjusts his position just slightly and moves into the light enough for me to see his face. It’s Daniel.
“The man at the front door has betrayed my family. His president ditched his ass. Once Rig realized we figured out what they were doing, he ran. He’s either dead or gone by now. Either way, you don’t have them either. Daniel doesn’t have the balls to face what he’s done, so it’s going to be your ass hung out to dry.”
“Yes, I’m aware of Tony’s involvement in forcing your Detroit president’s hand,” Leo says.
“I want your word that if I get you to Michael and promise that I’ll keep you alive at least long enough to have a sit down with the club, you won’t be a threat to us anymore.”
“I can’t promise an alliance, though I can promise an honest attempt at compromise,” he says and lowers his gun slowly. I nod my head and do the same.
“Okay, don’t judge me, but I don’t know what the hell to do now,” I say with a nervous laugh. We’re facing the cabin, and I can’t stop staring at Daniel. I’m not even remotely confident that he’ll have my back, but I’m out of resources. “I’m toast.”
“And you were doing so well,” Leo says with a chuckle. He walks toward the house and signals for me to follow. I want to ask him if that chuckle means he’s not planning on killing me or if he’s figured out how to do it, but I think I’ve already used up all my courage because I’m fresh out of snarky comments and energy.
We step out from the trees and into the clearing surrounding the cabin. I move to stand beside Leo when suddenly he grabs me around my neck and pulls me up against his torso. Shocked by the sudden jostling, I forget the gun in my hand and close my eyes, fearful that this is the end. By the time I remember I have a weapon, it’s too late.
“Hide the gun and just go with it,” he says quietly.
I open my eyes and take a deep breath, clicking the safety on and shoving the gun into the back of my jeans. I squirm from the discomfort of the hard metal against my spine. I don’t know how the guys walk around like this all the time. I’m going to have to get a holster if this kind of shit is going to keep happening.
He walks me to the front door with his gun to my head. Daniel catches sight of us as we round the side of the porch. He doesn’t move to lift his gun or bother with taking cover. Like the traitorous asshole he is, he smiles.
A loopy sickness overtakes me, reminding me of the situation I’m in. The guys can’t still be on the other side of the trees. I assured them I wasn’t hurt the first time but didn’t the second or the third time a gun was fired. I don’t doubt that they are slowly making their way through the woods to me. I just have to ensure that Leo and I get to Michael before the club gets to us. I might be able to convince the club not to shoot him on sight, but if I have to convince them to allow him to see Michael and agree to a sit down, then I’m going to end up breaking my word. Leo’s right, I don’t have the authority to be making alliances on behalf of Forsaken. Thankfully, I’m all he has, and he knows it.
“Finally. Guards are dead inside, and the kid is detained. Put up a fight and had to knock him around a bit, but he’s breathing. Fucker was walking around like he owns the goddamn place,” Daniel says. The very sight of him makes me angry, but the sound of his voice forces a violent shudder over my entire body. I don’t just hate him—I actually loathe his very existence. “Looks like you brought me a present.” Daniel licks his lips and gives me a wink.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Leo asks. He forces us up the steps within feet of Daniel.
“Let me show you,” Daniel says. He lifts his gun and points it at my head.
People say their life flashes before their eyes, but that doesn’t happen to me. I experience a deep sense of regret and sorrow for the things I’ve never gotten to do. I don’t know why, after so many men have died this afternoon, but it’s only now it truly sinks in that I might not live to see nineteen. The realization eats away at me, taking small little chunks of my protective shield with it and leaving me desperate for an end.
I don’t know what I was thinking, bargaining with a Made man. I don’t know what I was thinking of running into the woods, into danger, without a weapon. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I started investigating Mindy’s rape. Every decision I’ve made weighs on me. I was a senior in high school and looking forward to graduation. I ditched class, spent too much time with my friends, an
d flirted with football players. Aside from the club, everything in my life was typical. I wasn’t more beautiful than any other girl in school, I wasn’t smarter than anybody else either, and I didn’t stand out in any way I can fathom.
Not until I put my mind to righting a very big wrong. My friends’ problems, like being so far from the mall, became trivial, and I started to find it difficult to listen to their childish whining. The football players were suddenly all talk with very little to back it up. And somehow the most important thing in my life became the thing I just spent a lifetime without—a mother.
I just wanted to show Holly that she could be safe here, with us, and that she could be happy. I never wanted her to be so damaged and so afraid of life. I thought if I could solve the mystery of who hurt her best friend, it would make everything better for her. But I didn’t solve it, because the club already knew, and they were already taking steps to rectify the situation. I should have known better.
“Why?” I ask.
Daniel’s smile turns predatory, and he rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. “Because Fort Bragg has fucked up peace treaties across the country with their unprovoked strike against the Italians in Brooklyn.” He obviously knows nothing if he thinks that’s what this war is about, which only confirms my suspicion that Rig didn’t just lie to us—he lied to Daniel, too.
“Is that what your president told you?” Leo asks. All trace of humor is now gone, and in its place is a solemnness that I don’t expect. “I suppose he left out the part about his kidnapped wife and children who are to be sold overseas should he fail?”
If ever there were a reason to betray the brotherhood, I suppose that would be it. Not that I agree with Rig’s actions, but I don’t envy the choice he had to make. I knew that if Rig was working with Mancuso, there had to be a reason for it. Brothers don’t turn on the patch just because they get tired of the old regime.
“It’s unfortunate that you committed yourself to a cause that doesn’t exist and that you’ll lose your life for a crime you no doubt had little choice but to commit,” Leo says. Daniel’s eyes flutter for a moment before it registers what Leo’s words mean.