Cocky Jerk

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Cocky Jerk Page 17

by Infante Bosco, Janine


  “Where the fuck did you come from?” Richie asks him. “And why are you smiling at Marco like that?”

  “Yeah, man, it’s creepy,” I agree.

  He points a finger at me.

  “You’ll be thanking me later,” he says, unscrewing the cap from a bottle of water. He takes a long drink.

  Good.

  Maybe he’s dehydrated, that would explain why he’s not making any sense.

  “What am I thanking you for?”

  He lowers the bottle and fixes me with a pointed look.

  “For giving you a chance to finish those fuckers off.”

  Still not grasping what he’s trying to say, I look at Richie, but he just shrugs his shoulders and offers Tony another bottle of water.

  “I think he’s been out in the heat for too long,” Richie mutters under his breath.

  Tony tips his chin toward the front windshield of the van and we both follow his gaze. A gated lot comes into view. To the left, there is a large warehouse and parked in front are about three dozen motorcycles. I don’t need a mirror to know my face pales, nor do I need the confirmation that comes from Tony’s mouth.

  “We’re about to take down the Corrupt Hellraisers.”

  “Wait a minute,” Richie says, sounding just as shocked as me. “I thought you were working on taking out Bendetti. What the fuck is this?”

  “Bendetti pointed us here.”

  Floyd sounds in our ears, ordering us out of the van, and the sound of his voice snaps me out of my trance. I turn to Tony and grab his arm.

  “I can’t go in there.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tony asks, pulling his arm out of my reach. Before I can answer him, he kicks open the back of the cage and we’re greeted by SWAT. I rush to stand in front of Tony and force his attention back to me.

  “I can’t fucking go in there, Dinaso, because you’re about to take down my girlfriend’s father,” I rasp.

  He narrows his eyes.

  “You already went a couple of rounds with them at the feast. I thought you’d be a shoo-in for this.” He pauses and closes the distance between us, poking his finger against the vest shielding my chest. “I’ve worked this case for six fucking months, I’m not about to throw it all down the drain because you decided to dip your dick in Hellraiser pussy. Now, put your personal shit aside, you’re a fucking cop. It’s your duty to put these assholes down and if you fuck up, Floyd’s going to have your badge.”

  There’s nothing I can say.

  Nothing I can do.

  Everything implodes.

  Floyd gets on the earpiece again, and on his command, we charge into the clubhouse. Someone must’ve tipped them off because we’re greeted with a spray of bullets. Antonia’s face flashes before me as I reach for my gun and I force myself to shake the image from my head.

  Thinking of her will only get me killed, and I’d like to live to explain this mess to her.

  “You motherfucker, I knew you were no good.” a familiar voice sneers.

  Cocking my gun, I spin around and come face to face with Hound. There’s a bandage covering the bridge of his nose and he’s sporting two black eyes. If he wasn’t aiming a gun at me, I might take the time to admire my handy work.

  Instead, I shout for him to drop his weapon and put his hands in the air.

  “Fuck you,” he scoffs and pulls the trigger.

  I barely process what’s happening. I freeze as the bullet flies and another round of gunfire goes off behind me. Hound’s bullet pierces my vest, and the force knocks me back.

  “Pirelli, get down,” Richie shouts.

  For some reason, Richie’s voice registers, and I duck out of the way. He fires his gun, sending a bullet straight into Hound’s chest. The gun falls from his hand as he drops to the floor and Richie rushes for me. His eyes scan the length of me, searching for a wound.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, …he got my vest,” I stammer.

  Around us, gunfire continues to sound. I’ve been trained for situations like this, and yet my mind is blank. I look back at Hound, watching as he struggles to breathe. In all the years on the job, I’ve been lucky never to witness death and now, I’m surrounded by it.

  “Wake the fuck up, man,” Richie calls, slapping the side of my face. I bring my eyes back to my partner. “He could’ve killed you.”

  He’s right. None of these guys are thinking about Antonia. They don’t give a fuck that she’s with me, that I make her happy. They think I’m the fucking enemy and they want me dead. It’s time to get my head out of my ass and do my job.

  Antonia will understand.

  Floyd’s voice fills my ears, ordering me and Richie to make our way down the hallway.

  “DeLuca’s on the move,” he shouts.

  Richie looks at me, and I give him a quick nod.

  She’ll understand.

  Maybe if I keep telling myself that, it will make it easier. The debilitating pain in my chest that has nothing to do with the bullet lodged in my vest, will disappear. I won’t feel like I’m about to lose the one thing I give a damn about.

  “I’m good,” I assure him, but as I say the words, I send up a silent prayer.

  Please God, don’t let Tank DeLuca fire at me. I don’t want to be the man who puts a bullet in Antonia’s father. Putting him in cuffs and leaving his fate in the hands of the justice system is a forgivable offense. Taking his life is a death sentence to our relationship.

  Richie leads me down the hallway and kicks in the door at the end open. He gives me a nod and I charge into the room with my gun aimed high. My eyes zero in on the man responsible for bringing the most beautiful girl into the world and it takes everything in me to find my voice and confront him.

  “Police! Put the weapon down DeLuca and your hands in the air.”

  He freezes, and my pulse pounds violently in my ears, blocking out Floyd’s instructions. This isn’t a showdown between a cop and a criminal. This is a man falling in love, facing off against the man who made loving her possible by giving her life.

  Neither one of them wants to lose her.

  But both might.

  Keeping his back to me he lifts both hands in the air. Richie storms in and checks the room for anyone else.

  “All clear,” he says, but his voice sounds so far away. My gaze drifts from the patch in the center of Tank’s chest to the gun that’s still in his hand.

  I take two steps forward, advancing toward him and for a brief moment my mind flirts with insanity and I wish for him to turn around and pull the trigger. I guess I’d rather take a bullet than hurt Antonia and ultimately, that’s how this all ends.

  “I said drop your weapon,” I repeat.

  “Antonia.”

  The man doesn’t fight fair.

  “What about her?” I grind out.

  “She’s here,” he reveals.

  It’s amazing how one piece of information can change everything. How it can send your whole fucking world crashing down. Her beautiful face flashes before me and my imagination gets the best of me as I picture her lying on the floor in a pool of blood. This is place is a fucking warzone. What if she becomes a victim?

  Grinding my teeth, my hands start to shake.

  “She’s supposed to be at work, why the fuck is she here?” I holler at him.

  Suddenly my arms feel too heavy and I start to lower my gun.

  “What are you doing?” Richie growls at me.

  Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath and force my fingers to tighten around the gun.

  “Answer me,” I demand. “Why the fuck is Antonia here?”

  With a flick of his wrist Tank drops his gun to the floor and slowly turns to face me.

  “I might be the bad guy on paper, but you’re the piece of shit who toyed with an innocent girl,” he sneers.

  The weight of those words weighs heavily in the air because even though he’s got it all wrong, that’s exactly how Antonia is going to perceive this whole thin
g.

  He knows it and so do I.

  “Turn the fuck around, DeLuca,” Richie hollers. “He might not put a bullet in you, but I won’t fucking hesitate.”

  Tank ignores him and keeps his beady eyes glued to me.

  “You can lock me up and throw away the key, but you better pray she comes out of this unscathed because it won’t matter where I am, I will fucking ruin you.”

  If something happens to her, he won’t have to.

  I’ll destroy myself.

  Swallowing, I glance at Richie.

  “Go find Antonia,” I tell him.

  “I’m not leaving you with him.”

  “Do it, Richie!” I yell, turning to him. My eyes plead with his. I don’t need my partner to have my back, I need him to have my girls. “Please,” I say hoarsely.

  Go get my girl.

  He hesitates for a second, before jerking his head and hurrying out of the room. Once he’s gone, I turn back to Tank. We stare at each other for what seems like minutes before I lower my gun. He narrows his eyes as I tuck my gun back into my holster and reach for my handcuffs.

  “Turn around,” I instruct.

  He contemplates the order. If he’s plotting to pull a fast one on me, so be it. I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’ll go down as the cop who botched Sergeant Floyd’s operation and still be gifted a key to the city for my efforts. Maybe DeLuca ain’t that off. We live in a world fueled by corruption. It doesn’t matter which side of the law you’re on, there’s always an out somewhere.

  Perhaps I’m the weak link in this story.

  “As you wish,” he finally says and turns around.

  I didn’t realize I was holding my breath, waiting for him to make his move until I exhale and the weight on my chest subsides.

  Closing the space between us, I grab his hands and slap the cuffs on him. I read him his Miranda rights and drag him out of the room. We hit the hallway and I try to focus, but all I can think about is Antonia.

  Please let Richie find her.

  Please let her be okay.

  Entering the main room, my feet come to a halt and I take in the carnage around me. There are bodies on the floor and cops everywhere. In a sea of blue, I spot a mass of wild curls and all the air leaves my lungs as Antonia turns. Her eyes don’t meet mine, though. Instead, they lock with Tanks.

  “Dad?!”

  He doesn’t say a word, but judging by the way his shoulders slouch, I know he’s just as relieved I am. Even with tears streaming down her cheeks, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and when her eyes finally do find mine, I realize she’s also the picture of heartbreak.

  “No,” she cries in disbelief.

  “Antonia,” I say, but my voice gets lost as Tank talks over me.

  “I told you never to trust a pig,” he tells her.

  I flinch at his words and try to muster the courage to look her in the eye. Just when I think I can do it, Tony steps forward, blocking my view of her and takes Tank out of my custody. Antonia watches as her father is roughly dragged out of the clubhouse and I take the opportunity to make my way to her.

  I reach for her hand, but she pulls it back and steps out away from me. I meet her gaze and it’s a punch to the gut. I’ve never seen eyes so dull and lifeless before.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not what it looks like. I had no idea I was coming here today—”

  Cutting me off, she spats, “Get away from me.”

  “Antonia…”

  She wipes her cheeks with the backs of her hands and steps closer to me. Her dark eyes lock with mine and my heart hammers against my chest.

  “I hate you,” she whispers.

  That’s funny.

  Because I could swear, I love you.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marco

  Standing beside me, Richie offers me a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

  “How’s it going?” he questions as I tear my eyes away from the glass separating me and Antonia’s father. I look down at the sludge swirling around in the cup and back at my partner.

  “He won’t talk,” I reveal, diverting my gaze back to the glass.

  Inside the interrogation room, Tank sits at a metal table handcuffed and across from Tony Dinaso who has been questioning him for the last three hours.

  When we arrived at the station, I was finally clued in on what the hell was going on. As it turns out, Bendetti didn’t actually lead Floyd to the Corrupt Hellraiser’s. You see, even after months of investigating the notorious gangster, all their evidence is circumstantial. They got a couple of bodies they can pin on him but without his prints on the weapons or an eyewitness, Bendetti walks. That’s where Tank comes in.

  Tony wants him to testify and say he sold the guns to Bendetti. At least that’s what I got from this whole fucking thing. I wasn’t paying all that much attention to the briefing, I was too busy licking my wounds over Antonia.

  After she told me she hated me, she told me she wished she’d never met me. Then she wished me death and told me to fucking burn in hell. It became clear she wasn’t going to give me a chance to explain myself anytime soon and so, here I am…miserable and watching her father be questioned.

  I’ve lost count of how many times he’s spit in Dinaso’s face.

  The man is a fucking savage.

  “You know she’s downstairs, right?” Richie supplies, taking a sip of his coffee. I tear my eyes away from Tank and Dinaso’s pissing match to eye my partner. I had a feeling she would come here. It’s not like she had many options, the people she considers family are either here in a holding cell or on a slab in the morgue. I wonder if she realizes that.

  Swallowing, I look back at the glass.

  “Is she okay?” I ask.

  “You could go find out for yourself.”

  I shake my head. I’m the last thing she needs.

  Ironic considering that’s all I want to be.

  How any of this happened, I’ll never understand.

  I wasn’t supposed to fall for her.

  Suddenly, Tony’s voice booms over the speaker, and Floyd appears in front of the glass.

  “Pirelli, you’re up.”

  “What’s he talking about?” I ask, turning to Richie. Floyd knocks on the glass and signals me for me to join the room.

  “Looks like DeLuca wants you,” Richie says.

  Great.

  I can’t wait to see how this goes.

  Sighing, I hand Richie my coffee cup and make my way to the interrogation room. Floyd opens the door and brushes past me, cursing Tank under his breath. For the guy in charge, he’s doing an awful job at instructing us. This isn’t my case. I’ve got a fucking stack of tickets I could be inputting into the system. Instead, I’m walking into the lion’s den.

  Closing the door behind me, I cross my arms against my chest and look expectantly at Tony. Perhaps he can clue me in on what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.

  “This son of a bitch won’t budge,” Tony grunts.

  “How many times do I gotta tell you, I ain’t no fucking rat,” Tank sneers.

  “You’re gonna die like a rat in a cage if you don’t start talking,” Tony volleys, pushing off his chair. Grabbing his files from the table, he tucks them under his arm and tips his chin toward me. I follow him out of the room and lean against the door.

  “Get him to give up Bendetti,” he says, pointing a finger at me.

  My eyes widen at the ridiculous demand. I’m the last person Tank is going to give a statement to.

  “What makes you think he’s going to talk to me?”

  “He requested to speak to you.”

  “That’s because he wants to kill me.”

  “He’s handcuffed to a chair,” Tony retorts. “Unless you sit on his lap, you’re safe. Now, go and maybe I can convince Floyd not to report you to internal affairs.”

  As far as I’m concerned, I did my job. There are no grounds for me to be written up, but I don’t get a chance to questio
n Tony because he turns and walks away from me.

  Cursing him, Floyd, and the whole department, I drag my fingers roughly through my hair and push the door to the interrogation room open. Stepping inside, I kick it closed. I don’t meet Tank’s gaze right away. Instead, I stalk across the room. Balling my fists, I roll my neck and stare at our reflections in the two way glass.

  “Rough day?” Tank questions nonchalantly.

  Like I said, the man’s a savage.

  A brutal fucking savage.

  Turning around, I cock my head to the side and glare at him.

  “You could say that,” I grind out.

  “I imagine it’s taxing breaking the heart of a young woman for the sake of an arrest,” he says pointedly.

  “Probably just as challenging as breaking the heart of your only child for the sake of a patch,” I reply evenly and move to take the seat across from him.

  Folding myself into the chair, I stare at him.

  We’re two men divided by difference.

  I’m a man baptized in boundaries.

  He’s the man schooled in sin.

  Our only common thread is the woman we both failed.

  “Tell me something, officer—I can call you that, right?” I don’t reply, and he continues. “Do you want children someday?”

  I have no idea where he’s going with this, but I’m pretty sure I ain’t going to pull a statement out of him if we keep shooting the shit like a bunch of broads at a beauty parlor.

  “I didn’t want kids,” he reveals. “I knew my lifestyle wasn’t suited for children. But the man upstairs had a different plan for me.” He pauses and smiles faintly before continuing, “The moment I found out Antonia’s mother was pregnant, something changed inside of me. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be worthy of such a gift, but I had already made my bed. I took an oath and signed my life away, and I couldn’t erase that just because I had gotten my girl knocked up. No one was going to give me a pardon. You see, there’s a line. You’re sitting on one side of it and I’m sitting on the other. You can cross over to my side but I can’t cross back to yours because if I ever did, my daughter would pay the price and no child should ever have to suffer for the sins of their father.”

 

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