I want to keep my sliver of peace hidden from the rest of the world.
Away from the chaos.
“Until I get a handle on it I’d appreciate you keeping this between us.”
“Sure,” he says as Celeste walks into the living room holding Skylar on her hip.
“Hi, Deuce,” she greets before turning her eyes to me. “Do you remember my cousins Gina and Rocco? Probably not, because they moved to Italy right before we started high school and I didn’t see them again until after you were already gone.”
Rocco.
Instantly, I feel the weight of Deuce’s stare as I mentally connect the dots. Before the bomb went off, before I laid eyes on Celeste again, Rocco Spinelli walked into our clubhouse on the heels of Anthony Bianci, Victor’s son-in-law. Dressed in a suit, the cocky bastard announced he was taking over Victor’s empire and hoped to continue the alliance between Victor’s organization and our club. As rare as the name Spinelli is, it never crossed my mind that the gangster might be related to Celeste.
Jack shut him down, declaring that our club wasn’t looking to make nice with his new regime and sent him back to his Maserati without so much as a second thought.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
“Your father’s brother, the one that was deported for the drugs—” I start but she cuts me off.
“That’s Rocco and Gina’s father,” she confirms. “We didn’t have much contact with them until they came home. Their mom got sick, died of cancer and my dad reached out to them. Gina and I started college and Rocco moved to Miami to work for their uncle.”
“Holy shit,” Deuce hisses. “So you’re related to Victor too?”
“No, Victor’s wife, Grace, was Rocco and Gina’s mother’s sister. Victor is their uncle but not mine. Anyway, that was Gina on the phone,” she pauses looking between me and Deuce. “Victor passed away, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I point my thumb toward Deuce. “That’s why he’s here.”
She nods.
“Well I’m going to drop Skylar off with my mom because Gina is freaking out.”
“They were close?”
“Not really, after what happened with her own father, Gina’s mother took the same stance as my father and cut ties with her sister. She didn’t want her kids around the mob. Gina’s freaking out over what this means for her brother.”
“What about you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “How close are you to Rocco?”
“Rocco never stuck around long enough for me to even know him. He’s like a storm. He rolls into town now and again, shakes shit up and leaves. Usually he leaves a mess and a trail of broken hearts. He and Gina aren’t even close anymore. It’s a shame really, after their mother’s passing they went their separate ways. Gina chose the high road and Rocco chose to run in the same circles as his dad.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I digest her words and glance over at Deuce, noting the look in his eyes. Like me, the wheels are churning and instinct is nagging, begging to rear it’s ugly head.
“I’ll be downstairs,” he says after a moment. “See ya later, blondie,” he calls before fixing me with a look.
Nodding curtly, I watch him walk out of the apartment before turning back to Celeste. She places Skylar down on her feet and cocks her head to the side.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I tell her, stepping closer. “I’ve got club shit to handle. Go to your cousin and I’ll meet you here tonight?”
“Okay,” she whispers, wrapping one arm around my neck. Her eyes dart to my wound and back to mine. “Make sure you cover that up, okay?”
“Mmhmm,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple before I walk over to Skylar and wrap a tendril of her hair around my finger.
Blue eyes stare up at me and tugs at my heart.
“Celeste?”
Yeah?”
“What’s Skylar’s last name?”
Releasing the lock of her hair wrapped around my finger, I close my eyes and prepare myself for the blow.
“Spinelli.”
Instinct knows the game.
But this time it keeps the next play a secret.
Chapter Twenty-four
After I dropped the baby off at my mom’s I stopped at the liquor store, grabbed a gallon jug of Carlo Rossi sangria and hightailed it to my cousin’s apartment. Afternoon drinking and lots of chocolate are usually required whenever Gina calls in hysterics. Which isn’t often. I can count on one hand how many times my cousin has called me with a problem. Too proud to ever ask for help, Gina’s the girl who puts on a show for everyone and always plasters a smile on her face. Looking at her, one would never know she is lonely. No, one glance at my cousin and you would think she has the picture perfect life.
Only she doesn’t.
Sure, her life is better than most. She has a killer career, a shoe collection to die for and a spiffy apartment. She’s the definition of an independent woman.
But love is missing from her life. The love of her mother, the love of her brother and the love of a man. She grieves her mother in private, tells everyone she doesn’t care about her brother and swears she’s perfectly content not having a man in her life.
Lies.
All lies.
The truth is, her mother’s death left her hollow. She misses her brother and wishes they could have a relationship. As for a man, well, she hasn’t admitted it but I know she’s growing an attachment to Cobra’s buddy Stryker. Underneath all that tough exterior she’s just a girl falling in love with a guy, a girl who prays he’ll fall in love with her too.
Refilling my glass, I lean back on her plush bed and watch as she throws every black article of clothing onto her bed.
“What about this one?” she asks, holding up a simple black knee-length dress.
“That one screams funeral,” I reply, lifting the glass to my lips. Sipping the wine, I watch her extend her hand and scrutinize the dress.
“No, it’s awful,” she decides, throwing it on top of the pile of discarded clothes before she reaches for the wineglass on her dresser.
Rolling my eyes, I don’t acknowledge her craziness and continue to drink. You know for moral support and all that jazz.
Huffing, she walks over to the bed and climbs over the mountain of black dresses to lie beside me.
“It’s not about the dress,” I say after a while.
“No,” she admits. “Can you keep a secret?”
Ha.
If only she knew.
“Sure,” I say before downing the rest of my glass.
“I’m worried about my brother,” she whispers as she runs her fingers over the rim of her glass.
“That’s not a very good secret,” I comment. “You’ve been worried about Rocco since your mother passed away.”
Thoughtfully she looks at me, processing my words.
“I suppose,” she replies finally. “My mother’s death changed me but it changed Rocco too and I lost him somewhere. Now I fear he’s too far gone for us to ever reconnect.”
She pauses for a beat, placing her glass on the nightstand.
“I think he’s in over his head,” she admits. “Uncle Vic’s death changes everything.”
“How? Wasn’t he already taking over while he was in jail?”
“It didn’t matter that he was in prison, Celeste. He killed a man in prison, a big time player. By doing so he proved to all his enemies he couldn’t be stopped. He might’ve been behind bars and my brother may have been the man on the streets, but as long as Uncle Vic was alive, every order came from him. Now my brother’s the man delivering the orders. I don’t think he realizes he’s sacrificed his soul to be a human target for the mafia.”
“I don’t know about that,” I counter. “I think he’s starting to realize the severity of his actions. He knows his life has changed. He knows he has enemies, and he’s scared of what those men are capable of. I think he doubts his ability
to follow in your uncle’s footsteps. If he was as confident as he portrays himself to be he wouldn’t have been so adamant about having someone watch over your every move.”
“That kind of shocked me,” she murmurs.
“That he was ready to have one of his goons follow you or that Stryker stepped up to the plate and took on the role?”
“That my brother cared enough at all,” she confesses, angling her head to the side. “I guess I’m surprised Stryker offered to protect me too.”
“How’s that working out?”
The smile was instant, but she quickly tries to hide it, shrugging her shoulders as if to say it was no big deal.
“It is what it is. We’re having a good time,” she offers.
Right.
Tell someone else.
My cousin was head over heels for the king of orgasms.
“You’re so full of shit,” I tease.
She laughs.
“Yeah, I am. A part of me hates how vulnerable I am around him. Like the other day, he had to go out of town on some sort of club business. He didn’t call or anything and I started to feel insecure, wondering if he was gone for good. Then I came home from work and found him waiting on my stoop for me.”
Hearing her talk about the club made me feel guilty. Gina knows about Jagger. She knows he was my first love. She knows about Alexandria and she knows he left without a trace. She doesn’t know he’s Skylar’s father and she sure as hell doesn’t know who he is now. She doesn’t know Cobra and her boyfriend are in the same club.
“Hey, did I lose you?” she asks, nudging me with her elbow.
“I have a confession of my own,” I blurt.
“Spill it,” she orders, turning to me. As I try to find the words to explain, I watch her cross her legs and she gives me her undivided attention.
“Jagger’s back,” I whisper.
Her eyes go wide.
“The Jagger?”
I nod, reaching for the bottle of wine again.
“The one and only,” I mutter as I fill my glass. “Only he doesn’t go by that name anymore.” I turn back to her, tipping my glass in her direction. “Apparently it’s a fad or something. Anyone with a leather vest and a reaper on their back gets a nickname.”
“Are you shitting me? He’s a Satan’s Knight?”
She slaps my arm playfully.
“Tell me everything.”
“I saw him at the hospital after the bomb went off. I kept expecting him to leave but day after day he showed up. If he wasn’t watching over Wolf then he was sitting with Linc.”
“And let me guess, you just happened to be working,” she smiles at me.
“Yeah,” I roll my eyes and return the smile.
“That’s crazy. After all this time, after everything you two went through, he’s back.”
“I know, right?” I shake my head. “There’s more,” I whisper, turning to her. “He’s Skylar’s father.”
“Come again?”
“Two years ago, we ran into each other. I was on a date with a complete loser and he was…well he was there. It was supposed to be goodbye. Closure. I walked away from him and never thought I’d see him again.”
“Celeste, how come you never said anything?”
I shrug my shoulders.
“It didn’t seem fair anyone knew before he did,” I whisper.
“Does he know?”
“Yes, he met her for the first time yesterday,” I tell her.
“Wow,” she whispers, pausing for a moment. “I don’t even know what to say. How did he take it?”
“He was shocked at first. Then angry because I didn’t tell him right away.”
“Wait a minute, you knew how to get in touch with him after you found out you were pregnant?”
“No, it was one night. He was a nomad then. He didn’t come home until about a year ago,” I explain. Speaking out loud made me wonder if he was in Brooklyn when Skylar was born.
“So now what? Does Stryker know?”
“I don’t know what happens now. He says he wants to try to make it work, that he wants to get to know Skylar and be a part of her life,” I say with a sigh. “I don’t know who out of the club knows other than Deuce. Well, Wolf knows something is up too because after I decided to tell him about Skylar I went to Wolf for his address.”
“Wolf,” she repeats, narrowing her eyes. “I’ve never met him but I’ve heard all about him.
“He’s a crazy bastard that thinks I’m going to marry him.”
Leaning my head against the headboard, I smile and she lets out a laugh.
“Don’t ask,” I warn.
“I won’t,” she promises. “Did he ever tell you what happened? Why he left in the first place?”
“Yeah, he told me that night in the hotel. His family had gotten a lead on his sister’s disappearance. A bounty hunter had advised them to leave Brooklyn, make it look like the family was trying to move on and all that, but in the end they never found out what happened to her. They got a name of a man who was responsible for a bunch of missing girls in the area but then his parents were murdered.”
“By the guy who took their daughter?”
“I don’t know the logistics of it all,” I lie, feeling as if I already disclosed too much. Plus I didn’t want to live in the past anymore. I think if we’re going to move forward and try to make a life for our daughter then we need to leave the past behind.
For once and for all, I think it’s time to lay the tragedy that claimed us to rest.
“Can we sell your story to Lifetime?” she jokes.
“I don’t think Lifetime would even touch this shit show,” I laugh.
“One more question and then I’ll leave you alone.”
“Sure you will,” I mock. I know Gina’s questions won’t truly end for a good two weeks.
“Do your parents know any of this?”
God, I hadn’t even thought about that. Jagger was like a son to them. He spent more time in their home than he did with his own family and when he left, they hurt too. Not only because they had to watch their daughter fall to pieces but because they feared what had happened to him.
After Skylar was born, I thought they knew the truth. I thought that after they took one look at her they would see him, just like I did. I still feel they know but they never asked, and I never offered.
I’m going to have to tell them the truth.
That should be fun.
“No,” I cringe. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Make Jagger tell them,” Gina offers.
“Cobra,” I correct.
“Cobra, that’s his road name?” A giggle bursts from her lips. “Tell me it’s because he’s packing a snake. Wait! Did you sleep with him again? You definitely did.”
“Guilty,” I admit, taking another long sip of my wine. Feeling the effects of the wine, my cheeks flush and I place it back on the nightstand. We sit silently, mulling our confessions as we stare at the ceiling.
“Look at us,” she mutters beside me. “Two girls dating men that will probably destroy us.”
“Always the pessimist,” I groan.
“Maybe they won’t,” she whispers. “I pray I’m wrong, Celeste.”
“Yeah, me too,” I reply hoarsely.
I don’t know if my heart can withstand another blow. No matter how hard I try to pretend I’m strong like my cousin, I’m not. My heart has been broken too many times. The pieces are fragile, frail and barely hold together anymore.
“Wouldn’t it be something if they didn’t though?” she asks hoarsely.
It’d be nothing short of a miracle.
We should probably grab the rosary.
Throw up a Hail Mary to the big guy.
An Our Father wouldn’t hurt either.
Something.
Anything.
Please, God, have mercy on us.
Chapter Twenty-five
If someone had of told me I’d be riding
alongside Vic’s hearse or that I’d be a pallbearer at his funeral, I would have told them to fuck off. That’s exactly what I wanted to tell Jack when he sat us around his kitchen table and gave us our orders. Seeing as I didn’t want my dick blown off by my president I kept my mouth shut and agreed to show at the funeral.
And what a funeral it was shaping up to be.
For the next two days Torregrossa and Sons Funeral Home would close to accommodate Vic’s funeral and our bikes would be parked out front. Expecting danger, Jack’s plan was to throw us into the front lines to keep Vic’s family safe so they could mourn the legend in peace.
I don’t mind stepping up for the Pastores, but I have this nagging feeling that these people aren’t even the target. If anyone is in danger it’s the man who holds all the cards, and now that man is Rocco Spinelli.
Jack is adamant that this is about Vic and swears once that man is laid to rest our ties to the mob are done. He doesn’t want an alliance with Rocco. Mainly it’s because he doesn’t trust him but also because Rocco is going to have a lot of heat on him. He will be a walking bull’s-eye for a long time. If the guy makes it to his next birthday, it’ll be a miracle.
Knowing all that, I can’t help replaying the conversation I had earlier with Celeste. Of course she would be related to the gangster. Nothing is ever easy and we’re acing that whole six degrees of separation theory around here. I should take comfort they’re not close, but I’ve been burnt too many times by coincidence to trust anyone I love is ever safe.
We’re going to have to talk. She will have to tell me everything she knows about her cousin. Then she’s going to promise me to stay as far away from him as possible.
Being cautious never got anyone killed.
Being reckless did.
I stop off at the pizzeria on the corner of her block. Grab a large pie, a couple of rice balls and one of those salads she always seems to eat at the hospital before heading back to her apartment.
There hasn’t ever been a time in my life when I looked forward to going home. When I was a teenager I avoided my house at all costs, only going home to sleep. As an adult, I chose not to have a home.
Home was my bike.
Wanderer (The Nomad Series Book 2) Page 17