Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)

by Janine Infante Bosco

Yes.

  With everything I am.

  He’s got my back.

  I looked back at Stryker.

  “How does he expect me to get transferred?”

  “You’re going to kick my ass,” he seethed. “With the charges you got pending, they’ll move you because they think you’re a fucking liability or a goddamn nut job. Either way when the bus comes you’re going to meet the Don,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Heard he’s a real winner too,” he exaggerated as he climbed on top the top bunk. “Now, I’m all talked out and tomorrow I’ve got to get my pretty face fucked up by your sorry ass so I’m turning in,” he paused, glancing down at me. “Try not to put me in a coma too.”

  “I can’t make any promises,” I muttered.

  “Glad we had this talk,” he said, shifting around on the bed. “You got to be a midget to fit in this fucking thing,” he complained.

  “Stryker,” I called.

  “What?”

  “Why us? Why in God’s name did you hang your hat here?”

  “I fucking ask myself the same question every day,” he replied, letting out a long yawn. He didn’t elaborate or divulge anything new and I didn’t really expect him to either. He doesn’t have roots, and doesn’t make ties, he’s not going to give me any of his truth. Stryker was just like any other nomad I’ve met…a mystery.

  The next morning, they brought us into the yard and I beat the fuck out of Stryker, broke his nose and got my ass shipped to Otisville where the don himself, Victor Pastore was waiting for me.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “Bulldog, we gotta roll,” Pipe called as he walked towards his bike. “The kids alive.”

  “Praise Jesus,” Wolf ground out, spitting out his toothpick and clasping his hands together before he rubbed them in anticipation. “You get the kid to drop the fucking charges and then I’ll cover his face with a pillow. Time to make the little shit sorry his father’s sperm ever found the egg.”

  I stared at him as I fitted my gloves and straddled my Harley.

  “You’re a sick fuck,” I said as I shook my head. “But I’m the one with the fucking crazy pills.”

  “I’m not playing Bulldog, I don’t give a fuck if the kid can’t talk, you grab a fucking pad and paper and fucking write his confession. If you’re too much of a pussy, I’ll sign the goddamn thing.”

  “You’re pushing, Wolf,” I seethed. “I’m ten seconds away from making you sorry your old man’s swimmers ever set sail.”

  “Someone’s got to lay it out there for you,” Wolf interjected. “We need Blackie out and this shit between the two of you needs to get resolved. This club can’t afford anymore fucking problems, we’re swimming in them or drowning depending on the fucking day.”

  “Wolf’s right,” Pipe chimed in, tightening his chin strap. “It’s fucked up thinking any man’s got your girl’s heart let alone one of us but it could be worse,” he pointed out. “Blackie’s got a big heart and the fact it’s been dead for so long, means it’s well rested and ready to work overtime. Let’s get him out of the can, give him a chance to prove himself and I swear to you, he fucks with your little girl, Wolf will kill him,” he vowed.

  “Why me and not you?”

  “You’re much more creative,” Pipe shouted over his engine.

  I shook my head and revved my engine leaving those two clowns behind me and peeled out of the compound. I needed no one giving me advice when it came to my daughter. I also didn’t need anyone reminding me my brother was in jail or why he was there.

  It was never a question of whether I’d do whatever I could to get Blackie released. I’m not a fool, I know Blackie’s worth to this club. The man is loyal to the core, something you don’t find much of anymore.

  I can’t get on board with him having a thing for my daughter. After my son died I sat in my room at the clubhouse with a gun in my hand. I pleaded with my predecessor Cain to give me the junk I needed to be reunited with my boy. Cain shot me down, reminded me I still had Lacey and one day she’d grow up and be a looker. She’d need her daddy to filter through the shit and protect her heart or she’d end up with someone like us.

  For a long time after that conversation, I’d look at my little girl and hear Cain’s voice in my head. I didn’t think she’d grow up as fast as she did. I wish I didn’t spend so much time worrying about the older years and paid more attention to the younger ones.

  The years when she was still only mine.

  Now I had to share her.

  I never learned how to share.

  I didn’t want my first lesson to be sharing my daughter with Blackie.

  But like everything else in my life, some things were just out of my control.

  There was one thing no one would take from me, one part of me I’d always have power over and that’s my ability to get down. First, I’d start with the kid’s father, because that son-of-a-bitch should’ve taught his boy manners and how to use his fucking dick. He thinks he’s been sparred a debt, that motherfucker is in over his head and he’s in with me.

  The motherfucking bulldog.

  We parked in front of the hospital, dismounted and started for the door. I glanced over each shoulder making sure Wolf and Pipe were ready to get down with me and saw the devilish look in both maniac’s eyes. We’d get the job done.

  Free Blackie.

  These two assholes behind me were about to have shirts made if I didn’t get him out. I’m not going to lie, I want him out. This last month I could’ve used my V.P. with everything we’ve had going on. As much as I want him out, I don’t know how I’m going to handle watching my daughter run into his arms.

  She thinks he’s her knight in shining armor.

  I used to be.

  Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe it’s not about giving her to Blackie and trusting he’s going to do right by her. Maybe it’s losing her and wondering where I’ll fit in her life.

  We made our way to Brandon’s room and Pipe tapped my shoulder.

  “Go ahead, I got this,” he affirmed, brushing off his shoulders.

  Wolf pulled open his jacket and grabbed a pen from inside his pocket before he shoved it in my face.

  “Get it signed and sealed and I’ll deliver the fucking sentence,” he grunted. I grabbed the pen and pushed open the door to the kid’s room. Lacey sat beside Brandon’s bed with his mother on one side of her and the father across from her.

  She lifted her head and pinned me with a stare before turning to Brandon’s mother. “Thank you for helping him write this,” Lacey said, tapping her pen to the pad of paper and then she turned to Brandon. “Thank you for doing the right thing,” she offered.

  “We’re sorry what happened,” the kid’s mother said. “And I know Brandon is too, isn’t that right?”

  “What the hell is going on?” I hissed.

  “Brandon is dropping the charges against Blackie,” she said, lifting the pad as my eyes zeroed in on the signature on the page.

  “The cops will be here any minute to take his statement. I thought it would be best if we had this just in case someone should change their mind,” she said, diverting her eyes to the kid’s father.

  “No one is changing their mind,” I said, walking up behind the man who used his son as payment plan. “Time for you and me to take a walk, buddy.”

  “Dad,” Lacey started, but I shot her down with a glare.

  “Go outside and wait with Wolf and Pipe,” I ordered. “Now.” Then I looked over at the Brandon’s mother. “You too lady, out.”

  “Sir, my son--- ““Is lucky I need him alive,” I interrupted. “Now, I’d like a word with the guy who tried to rape my daughter and the man who put him in the position. If you want to stick around and watch that’s fine with me but I can guarantee you, you won’t like what you’ll hear,” I paused. “And not what you see either.”

  I could feel Lacey’s eyes stare me down and under other circumstances I would’ve thought twice about talking like this in front of her. I
’ve tried real hard not to unleash the bulldog in front of her but now I didn’t give a damn. Now, I knew she didn’t scare easily and wasn’t afraid of the life I tried to shield her from. Now, she chose it.

  Both women turned around and made their way out of the room. I walked over to the door, peeked through the blinds and locked the door.

  “Mr. Parrish,” the elder man started.

  “Shut your fucking mouth!” I cut him off, walking around the edge of the bed to the run my hand over the buttons of the machine pumping air into Brandon’s lungs.

  “The only one talking right now is me. Do you understand?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the father choked out.

  I looked down at Brandon and watched as he stared back at me blankly.

  “You fucked with the wrong girl,” I seethed. “Thank whatever God you pray to that Blackie was there to stop you. If you would’ve succeeded I would’ve cut your little dick off and fed it to that sweet woman who’s been sitting vigil over you.”

  The father flinched at my crass words causing me to divert my eyes toward him.

  “You got something you want to say old man? Because I’ve got a plan for you too.”

  “The doctors say he’s permanently deaf,” he hoarsely informed me.

  “How’s that feel?” I asked, pushing off the respirator and standing tall as I stared him down, confusion masking his features.

  “How’s it feel to know you put your son in the middle of a situation only to save your own ass? Does your wife know you’re gambling degenerate that asked his son to step in when he couldn’t pay?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” he argued. “I didn’t have a choice! I wouldn’t have done it if I knew Brandon would be hurt, or even if I knew he’d hurt your daughter. Boots told me he wanted him to get close to her, get a little information about that Blackie guy. He’d let the debt go but if I didn’t send Brandon in, he’d kill him.” He glanced down at his son. “I never wanted any of this. And now Boots is saying because Brandon did what he did— ““What’s the matter you can’t say it?” I ground out. “You can’t bring yourself to say the word can you? Say the fucking word! Be a man and say what you’re fucking son did to my daughter.”

  He stared at me silently.

  “SAY IT!” I demanded as I outstretched my hand, my fingers hovered over the plug.

  “Rape,” he blurted. “He said because Brandon tried raping your girl that the deal was off the table and he owned me.”

  I arched an eyebrow.

  “I used to work for the club. I was their mechanic for a long time, seen a lot of stuff go down. I don’t want to be under his thumb. I won’t survive being in debt to him, neither will anyone in my family. I got a daughter man, just like you do, and I’ve already compromised one child.”

  I walked around the bed, pushing down the sting of his words and focusing on what I was there to do.

  “That man preys on girls,” he rambled. “Brandon’s going to drop the charges on the guy and then we’re out of here. I’m taking my family and getting the fuck out of here before another kid becomes a victim.”

  “Let’s get something straight, Boots doesn’t own you…. I do. And you’re not going anywhere until I say so, until I’m sure Blackie’s out and then I’ll decide what you can and cannot do, where you can and cannot go,” I growled.

  “He’s already threatened my daughter twice,” he cried as I started for the door.

  “Don’t like it do you? It’s not a good feeling when someone takes advantage of your girl is it?” I turned around and point my finger between his eyes. “Stay put or I’ll deliver your daughter to him myself.”

  I glanced over at Brandon debating whether to acknowledge the poor slob in the bed, deaf and barely able to function. I decided to let it go---his mother would wipe his ass for a long while. Blackie took care of him and took care of him good.

  I should probably thank him.

  After I kick him in the balls.

  I pulled the door open, and the mother lifted her head, wiped her tears and brushed past me as she ran into the room.

  “Relax lady, they’re still breathing,” I called over my shoulder before turning to Wolf who followed her. I placed my hand against his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He looked at Lacey.

  “We got the confession now it’s time to deliver the sentence,” he explained, staring back at me like I was half tanked. “Don’t sweat it, Bulldog, I’ll be quiet.”

  “No need. Blackie gave the kid his sentence already,” I muttered, turning around to stare at my daughter leaning against the wall, holding her man’s ticket to freedom in her hand.

  “Are you going to call the lawyer or should I?”

  I walked over to her, took the pad from her hand and shoved it under my arm.

  “I’ll handle it,” I insisted.

  “Make sure,” she said, rising on her tiptoes to press a kiss to my cheek. She used to do that a lot when she was little. She also used to stand on my shoes and beg me to dance with her.

  Yeah, I should’ve paid more attention to the younger years.

  I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a slight squeeze before she pulled out of my arms and started down the hallway.

  The older years sucked.

  I watched her walk away and cleared my throat, pushing down the lump in my throat.

  She’s not your little girl anymore, my maker taunted.

  She’ll always be my little girl.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  I followed the guard through the cell block and immediately noticed the differences between here and Rikers. First, this place was fucking huge and housed twice as many inmates and double the amount of correction officers. The inmates here didn’t give two fucks about anything, most of them knew they’d die here and the few that weren’t doing life sentences, would probably die before they busted out. They were rowdy and taunted the officers as they walked me to my cell. The guard behind me stopped at one of the cells on the way, slipped the inmate a book and took one back in return. I glanced over my shoulder and watched as he opened the book, dipped his eyes to the page he opened it to and smiled before closing it again.

  No wonder they carted my ass here.

  This place was fucked.

  The guards were on the take and the one's inmates didn’t have in their pockets were the ones who were fucked. I had no doubt that Victor ran this place, both the inmates and the fucking men who were supposedly guarding them. He probably makes a pot of sauce in his fucking cell on a Sunday.

  The officer in front of me stopped and turned to his left as he reached for his keys.

  “Delivery,” he commented as he unlocked the cell, stepping aside as I turned to the man behind the bars. My eyes zeroed in on the perfectly white canvas sneakers before they traveled the length of the blue jumpsuit and landed on the aging face of Victor Pastore.

  His hair had grayed since the last time the newspapers snapped a picture of him but it was immaculately styled, not a silver stain out of place and slicked back with a half a ton of hair gel. He was thinner than when he went in and his normally tan complexion was still olive in skin tone but much paler, even paler than when I insisted Jack bring me to meet the man all those months ago when we first went head to head with Jimmy Gold.

  Victor stood, shoving one hand in his pocket, mimicking the way he used to unbutton his designer suit and hide one hand in his pants pocket as he walked. He had that walk, the media used to love to catch him leaving the court house because his stance alone sold papers and made ratings. He was cocky, arrogant and a goddamn legend people worshipped.

  It didn’t matter he was a gangster and his record spoke for his crimes, he was a good guy to the people he loved and his neighborhood. He didn’t let the power go completely to his head, sometimes he managed to keep it humble, which these days was unheard of.

  His reputation made it hard for people to believe the man in a thousand-dollar suit, playing sti
ck ball in the street with the neighborhood kids, spent the night before robbing a truck and killing the driver, leaving is body on the side of the road. The stories were endless and my personal favorites were the ones told about the Vic from years ago when Michael Valente Senior was his underboss—those two were a force to be reckoned with. Yeah, those were my favorite, when the mob was still the mob and Vic and Val ran New York with old school values.

  After, Val died, Victor wasn’t the same man he became harder as his quest for revenge consumed him. Jimmy was elected his underboss. I’m not really sure how that works, if it’s something Vic chose himself or if his organization sat down and took a vote. I’m going to say there isn’t democracy in the Pastore Organization. There is Vic and then there’s everyone else under him enforcing his final rule.

  I looked over my shoulder at the guard who slipped him a paper brown bag, wondering for a moment what determined if you got a book or a bag full of goodies from Santa Claus over here. Yeah, Vic ran shit, even behind bars he had the correction officers enforcing his command.

  “Thank you,” Victor said, opening the bag and peering inside before nodding in satisfaction and turning his eyes back to mine. “I’ve been expecting you,” he smirked, glancing over my shoulder at the two guards. “I’ll take it from here boys,” he said, dismissing them.

  “You got it, Vic, be back in an hour to bring you to church,” the first officer promised as I stepped inside and he closed the cell door.

  I dropped the few belongings they gave me onto the bottom bunk and turned around, raising an eyebrow at Victor.

  “Church?”

  “Man needs God when he’s locked away for the rest of his life,” he explained. “He repents his sins and hope that changes where he ends up after he takes his final breath,” he continued.

  “I bet he does,” I murmured, knowing those words would stick with me for the rest of my life. They were the words of a man who spent his whole life defeating the odds and now staring at him, his luck finally had run out.

  A man up until a few weeks ago I was destined to become.