The Guzzi Legacy: Vol 2

by Bethany-Kris

  That wasn’t a lie.

  He inched that fraction closer, letting her arch into his kiss and lick the taste of her arousal straight from his tongue. She was tart, but hotter on him. His hands slid from her waist up to spread across her ribcage beneath her naked breasts—he’d wasted no fucking time practically ripping her clothes off when they first entered the pool house, or rather, what remained of her clothes after their swim.

  ... to be fair, she’d done the same to him.

  “Now,” he said, the demand coming in clear, “bend over for me, baby.”

  August didn’t even hesitate to stand from the couch, feeling his hands run over her ass as she turned around to kneel on the cushions. Now, her ass was high in the air, and Beni apparently appreciated that sight if the way he groaned and spread her wide was any indication.

  “God, look at you. So fucking pretty, and wet.” His hand smacked against her pussy, inciting a moan from her as he added darker, “Greedy, too.”

  “And yours.”

  He slid in behind her, the head of his cock pressing against her slit. “And mine.”

  One of his hands landed to her shoulder, and the other flexed against her ass a second before he thrust in. It was the only warning she got, but it was just enough for her to drag in one quick, shaky breath before she felt like she could no longer breathe.

  “So good,” she mumbled.

  “Yes, fuck yeah.”

  The way he filled her.

  So much.

  And then he just fucked her.

  Brutal, and fast. Wild, and unrestrained.

  Every stroke of his cock inside her pussy, and each beat of his hips into her ass sent her flying closer and closer to another release. All those dirty words and wicked promises spilling from him behind her aided the need on.

  Take that cock, baby, and fuck, you look so good like this, and wait ‘til you taste your come straight from my fucking dick, huh?

  Was it any surprise that she was flying high again before she even knew it was happening? It was uncontainable—the orgasm coming on swift, and there was no controlling it.

  She had never felt higher.

  Never been so happily used.

  “Fuck, let me do that again,” Beni said, bending down to kiss a sweet path up her spine, his hips slowing against hers as the aftershocks of that orgasm started to slow. He hadn’t even come yet. “Love you, huh?”

  Didn’t he know?

  She had never loved someone more.

  August turned her cheek to the side against the back of the couch, feeling his lips glide along her cheekbone as he started a slow, steady fucking her. He kissed her again, saying, “Yeah, damn I love you.”

  His next thrusts came harder.

  She arched into him.

  “Come,” she breathed.

  He groaned against her cheek. “Say it.”

  A little deeper, then, with his strokes.

  “Come on, Beni, come.”

  “Say it to me.”

  Fast again, taking her breath away.

  His hands flexed on her hips.

  “Love you,” she whispered.

  She got to say it, and feel him come.

  That was her new favorite thing.

  She decided.

  19.

  The switchblade Beni liked to keep in his pocket was a good tool to play with when bored, and he needed to fidget. He could still hear his father’s warning in the back of his mind whenever he toyed with a blade—don’t play with knives, Beni, that’s how people get cut.

  There was something about a knife, though.

  He liked it more than a gun.

  Sitting on a chair that he’d placed in the middle of the cracked cement floor of a warehouse, Beni used the tip of that very sharp knife to edge along the tips of his fingernails. It shaved them down in the smallest strips, a testament to how sharp the blade was, and his sharpening skills.

  All the while, he watched the door at the front of the warehouse, waiting for what he knew was inevitable. In his search for the person causing issues within the crew, he had realized something that should have been obvious from the start.

  It was always the person people thought it would never be. That’s why the fucker doing it had gotten away with his shit for as long as he did because no one was going to look at the guy closest to the Capo, a man that Jerome had helped to raise, in a way, as the person fucking him over at the end of the day.

  And why would he?

  Why would anyone look at Neil?

  He had a good position—he helped to lead an entire crew. Unheard of for men who weren’t made. He had a lot of respect, was given status in his place, and for the most part, seemed happy to do his business as he was told.

  Loyal, too, right?

  Right.

  The click of a lock across the warehouse, the deadbolt in the heavy metal door sliding open, had Beni lifting his head and coming out of his thoughts all at once. This was the last test, in a way, although he already had his answer on Neil, and what the guy had been doing to his Capo when Jerome’s back was turned.

  He had keys to everything.

  Got inside info on everything.

  That’s how much he was trusted.

  No one would look to him—it was easier for a man to overlook the people he put faith in to have his back, than it was to look at those same people with suspicion. No one wanted to look at someone they cared about for reasons that were less than kind.

  A simple fact of life.

  Shame, really.

  Beni partly blamed the Capo for this. Had the man not been so caught up in his feelings, and willing to blame an entire crew for what was happening, instead of looking at what should have been the obvious choice, considering everything ... then perhaps they could have closed the file on this a month ago.

  Shit, maybe they wouldn’t even have needed him to come in and figure out what the fuck was going on within the crew.

  But here he was.

  And it would end today.

  “Beni?”

  Staying on the chair, because he had little to no interest in ruining the navy suit he put on that morning—Guzzis had their flaws, and vanity was certainly fucking one of them—Beni lifted his head to give the man entering the warehouse a slight smile.

  Cold, but knowing.

  “Looking for something?” he asked Neil.

  The door clicked behind him.

  Neil hesitated like he was going to turn around.

  Beni was quick to say, “Oh, don’t worry about the door. I put a little thing on the arm over the top of it, so when it closes, it’s not going to open from the inside again. We need to have a little chat, and it wouldn’t be very helpful if you ran off before I could say what I needed to say, you know what I mean?”

  The man’s jaw hardened. “I don’t answer to you, and I don’t have to stand here and speak to you, not if I don’t want—”

  “No, actually you do.”

  Pride was a bitch.

  Everybody knew it.

  Neil’s pride made him take a few steps forward, daring to come closer to the man toying with a knife maybe fifteen feet away. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Guzzi?”

  “The guy who figured out you were stealing from the crew to fund your little brother’s issue ... and by issue, I mean the fact that he was smoking meth like it was going to keep him alive, and then when he got mixed up in the gang business, well, shit really went downhill for you, huh?”

  “Shut your fucking—”

  “I get it,” Beni said quickly, shrugging his shoulders. “See, I’ve got a lot of brothers, but one specifically, my twin—shit, I’d do anything for him. Someone needs to die? Cool shit, give me a name, you know? So yeah, I get where your mind was at when he caused problems with the gang trying to get in with them, and you wanted to fix it.”

  Neil’s shoulders stiffened. “I just wanted to make it go away.”

  Beni nodded.

  That’s what sucked.
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br />   Because maybe—fuck, just maybe—had he been honest with his Capo from the start, and told him they were in trouble, Jerome might have been able to help. Or, he could have brought in someone else from the Outfit to get these kids away from the gang.

  Now, though?

  Now, they stole from the Outfit. They fucked with a Capo’s business. They allowed a gang into their spaces to cause problems, and take their profits.

  There was no saving it.

  No excusing it.

  Only one thing would answer for it.

  “My twin called in some contacts,” Beni said, “people he knew around Chicago that had some beads with the Easties gang. At first, we were just looking for connections, but then we found your brother right smack in the fucking middle.”

  “He was a good kid.”

  “Yeah, weren’t we all?”

  And then life happened.

  This fucking life.

  Beni didn’t regret it.

  He wouldn’t regret this, either.

  “Anyway,” Beni said, standing from the metal chair, and flicking the blade of his knife closed before pocketing it, “that’s how we figured out it was you, and I kind of put two and two together to make four, so I had the gist of the rest. Unless, of course, there’s anything else you might want to tell me. I’ll let Jerome know—hope you know what this is going to do to him because he cares a lot about you. Like a son he doesn’t have.”

  Neil’s jaw trembled as he tried to shrug it off.

  Didn’t matter.

  Beni saw the emotion.

  “They didn’t give me a choice,” he muttered “it was fucking feed into their shit, supply them with whatever I could—money, or something to make money—or they were gonna kill my brother. And he—being young, and fucking stupid—didn’t know anything about it because he thought they were his fucking brothers, all right? What was I supposed to do, Beni?”

  He didn’t know.

  Didn’t have those damn answers.

  “I would have done the same thing,” Beni admitted, “if that’s any consolation here.”

  “It’s not.”

  “You had to know this couldn’t go on for—”

  “Fuck you. I was doing just fine until you came onto the scene to fuck it up.”

  Yeah, there was that anger.

  “Maybe I can fix it,” Neil added quickly. “You know, work something out with Jerome, or—”

  “Nah, that’s never going to happen.”

  Apparently, knowing you were going to die was kind of like going through the stages of grief, in a way. Neil was running through the gamut of emotions—disbelief, pain, bargaining, and anger. All of it, really.

  Beni let him have his moment.

  Thing was, he was already over it.

  A form coming out of the shadows on the left side of the warehouse, behind Neil’s position, had Beni speaking up again to keep the man’s attention on him. The less fight and trouble they had here today, the better this would be.

  Shitty as it was.

  “See, last night at the club,” Beni said, “that was all orchestrated. Your new friendship with Cory? Planned, so you would be there with him last night. Tommaso drinking too much, and talking out of his ass about business, and the shipment being moved? Done with a purpose. Because if it was you, then you’d have the keys to the warehouse—you’d have to check before you would pass the info off to the gang, so they could steal it.”

  That form—Joe Rossi, also known as Shadow for his work as a hitman in the Outfit—now stood directly behind Neil, but the guy didn’t realize it. He was seconds away from death, and it would not be an easy one for him, although it would be mostly clean.

  Beni stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks, murmuring, “Sorry it had to go down like this, but when you play games with the mafia, just know you will always lose. Because we can’t afford not to win.”

  Joe unwound the wire in his hand. Neil didn’t even get the chance to react before it was wrapped around his throat, and he was yanked against the other man’s chest. Fight or flight kicked in for him, but it was fucking useless. Like his feet kicking at the floor—Joe was unbothered—or his hands clawing at the wire at his throat.

  His eyes bulged.

  Skin reddened.

  Lips went blue.

  Choked, and fought, and everything.

  Beni at least gave Neil the respect of watching him die, although he reclaimed his seat on that metal chair for the duration of the show. It lasted longer than he expected, but then again, this was the first time he witnessed someone die by a wire choking them out.

  Damn.

  Dying was hard work, apparently.

  • • •

  “Are you on your way back yet?”

  Beni chuckled as he wiped his hands on the paper towel that Joe silently offered to him. The single sink on the right side of the warehouse had come in handy once they were finished with business. Joe stepped up next to wash his hands.

  “Well?” August asked on the phone.

  “Almost,” he said.

  “Good, because I’m getting hungry, and I can’t be held accountable for my actions at that point.”

  Beni grinned, giving Joe a nod—his silent thanks for the man’s work here today, his help after, and all the rest. Joe answered it back with his own. “And what does that mean, August?”

  “I’m just saying that I was planning on going back to your place after this movie with Cam, but if you’re going to make me wait longer, then we might go out and have some fun.”

  Mmhmm.

  “But then I can’t bring you home that takeout you like from down the street.”

  She hummed under her breath.

  “And we can’t watch that series you DVR’d to binge, either.”

  “You make such good arguments.”

  Beni laughed. “Not really, you’re just easy to please.”

  And he loved that about her, honestly.

  “How’s the hair?”

  August sighed loudly. “Still a mess.”

  “It’s not a mess.”

  “Listen, you always think it looks good. I know when it’s a mess, okay?”

  He knew better than to argue with her. She had managed to keep most of her hair from getting wet the night before—the ends of her length, however, not so much. It was the first thing she said had to be taken care of as soon as she woke up in the morning, which meant a proper wash, a bunch of products to manage and protect her curls, and brushing it all out.

  He helped.

  As much as she would let him, really.

  Also, while he didn’t say it to her because they hadn’t come back to that conversation from the night before at the club, but having her at his place in the morning ... doing her routine, and just being there with him only confirmed his resolve.

  He wanted that woman with him.

  In his life.

  At his place.

  Waking up in his bed.

  Full stop.

  You know, when they got back to that conversation.

  “You good, Joe?” Beni called over his shoulder.

  Joe nodded as he finished washing up his hands. “Yeah, man. I’ll call somebody in to help me get rid of the ... rest of it.”

  “Right, thanks.”

  On the phone, August said, “Well, I’m just about to go back into the movie. I had to lie to Cam and say I had to pee to call you.”

  “She’s very possessive of your time.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that one.”

  “I can handle her.”

  Somehow.

  “And,” he added, “I will have your food, and the first episode up for you to start your binge when you get back to my place. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “All right, baby, I’ll talk to you in a—”

  His words cut off as he pushed open the door to the warehouse. They’d taken the lock off the top after they finished their business with Neil.

>   He hadn’t expected to find the guy’s kid brother standing in front of his brother’s beat up car—they had to dispose of that later, too—when he stepped outside, though. Never mind the fact that the kid was pointing a gun right at Beni.

  Beni blinked.

  Holy shit.

  He should have known, really.

  It was a stupid mistake to make. He’d told Neil himself, hadn’t he? If it was his brother, he would do anything for him. Follow Bene anywhere, if asked, or if he thought that’s what his brother needed.

  No question.

  Beni factored Neil’s love and bond in for his little brother to explain why he did what he did, but not once had he thought about the other sibling. Neil had said his brother didn’t know about the fact that the gang was using him to manipulate him, but that didn’t mean it was the truth. Or even that the guy’s kid brother didn’t suspect something was up.

  Yeah, a huge mistake.

  Beni knew ... it was already too late.

  “Beni?” August said, her voice faint in his ear.

  Shit.

  She was still on the phone.

  “Where the fuck is my brother?” the kid demanded.

  He was all of seventeen.

  That was it.

  A baby on these streets, really. Not that it made any difference to the gang that recruited him, if the tattoos on his neck were any indication. Those tattoos told a story, one of a kid who had officially been initiated, and had done his crimes to earn his spot. All dangerous things, although who was Beni to speak?

  Look what he had done today.

  “Listen,” Beni said, his hand raising like that might help him, “your brother made a choice, and—”

  The kid—Beni’s mind was struggling to catch up, and remember his name ... Nathan, was it?—jerked the gun, turning it to the side as he forced through clenched teeth, “Shut the fuck up, man, and tell me where my brother is before I blow your fucking face off!”

  “Beni!”

  August, again.

  He could see the gun was already racked back.

  Safety off.

  He stared down that barrel.

  Ready to fire.

  “I’m sorry about your brother, but—”

  That was the wrong thing to say.

  Nathan pulled the trigger.

  Beni heard August’s screams long after he hit the ground.