Hot in Handcuffs

by Day, Sylvia; Black, Shayla; Walker, Shiloh

  “Yeah.” She nodded, clearly nervous. “I should have realized that. I’m just—”

  “There’s a lot going on. Here.” He handed her the little portable charging device he carried around for his iPhone.

  Her eyes lit on it, and relief crossed her face as she clipped the little charger onto the device. He was glad to make her smile, but…

  “We shouldn’t investigate the iPod here. Let’s take it back to our room.” In fact, Jon was certain that his boss would be very interested in this development. But he wanted to be in a safe place to look at the contents first.

  “I’ve waited years already. I’ve solved the riddles he left for me. I have to hear what he wanted me to know.”

  Jon hesitated. Her plea was passionate and emotional. But that impending sense of danger rolled over him again. Whatever was on that iPod may have gotten Nicholas killed. He’d hidden it this thoroughly for a reason. He’d told her to give it to the FBI. Besides, standing out here in the open, they were awfully vulnerable. Other than a single security gate, intended to keep cars more than people out, the area was totally accessible to anyone.

  “Lucia, we’re not safe here. Let’s get secure—”

  “Two minutes. Please. If we haven’t seen anything interesting yet, I’ll shut it off. We’ll be fine. If Pietro had any idea where my father had hidden this, he would have already come and taken it. And I don’t think we were followed.”

  “We don’t know that for sure, Lucia.”

  “You’re being paranoid.”

  He raised a brow at her. “Better paranoid than dead.”

  She stood, watching him, measuring his words. That look on her face told him that she was going to argue.

  Jon had had enough. He’d stepped back and let her solve the riddle her way. Now they were entering his territory. As much as he’d like to grant her wish, he couldn’t afford to be soft with her when it came to safety. “Whatever is running through that pretty head of yours, Doc, don’t say it. I picked you up and carried you out of a situation once. You can be damn sure that I don’t have a problem doing it again.”

  LUCIA CLUTCHED THE iPod in her hand. She didn’t doubt Jon meant that. Nor did she discount the fact there could be danger. But there was danger in waiting, too. Every moment they didn’t know what her father wanted to say was another moment the truth remained in the dark.

  “Two minutes,” she insisted, then pressed a few buttons.

  Jon opened his mouth to argue—but closed it when he saw her father’s face come into view on the little screen.

  Lucia clapped her hand to her mouth to hold in a cry. It was footage from a security camera in his office in the back of one of his dry-cleaning facilities, date stamped about a month before his death. She held her breath, even as grief pressed down on her while she watched images of her father shuffle a few papers.

  Then Pietro walked into the scene and shut the door behind him. “We need to talk about Casale.”

  Her father didn’t lift his head, didn’t reply.

  “You listening to me?” Pietro demanded.

  “I heard you.”

  “Fucking do something!” Her uncle pounded his fist on the table. “The asshole is getting out of hand, making more demands. He’s not denying the warrants and wiretaps like we’re paying him for.”

  “He can’t look too obvious. He’s done his best to minimize the shit. We’ve had this conversation. It’s over.”

  “The hell it is! You’re getting soft. This whole fucking organization is going to come down around our heads, and you’re still going to be telling me to stay patient.”

  Her father finally lifted his head and speared his younger brother with a glare that promised the fires of hell. “It’s not going to fall down around us. I know exactly what I’m doing. You remove Casale, and we’ve got no advocate behind a federal bench. All those dirty damn cops you’ve got stashed all over Jersey will only get you so far. Leave it alone.” He got to his feet. “I’ve got a meeting, so get the hell out of here.”

  “Yeah? With who?”

  “None of your business.” Her father streaked a hand through his dark hair, sprinkled now with gray. “Lock up on your way out.”

  He exited the scene, the door slamming behind him. Pietro cursed, then began pacing. Up one side of the office, then back down the other. Finally, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. “Yeah, it’s me. We gotta act. Casale’s got to go.” Pause. “No. I’ve got a plan. On the first of every month, Stefan Bocelli visits the good judge’s house to pay him off. Next time he does, be waiting. As soon as Bocelli is gone, finish the judge. We’ll plant the gun on Nicholas’s lapdog later. Double-tap him to the head, just like Bocelli would. His prints are likely all over the house. You phone in an anonymous tip, say you’re a passing neighbor.” Pietro laughed. “Bingo. No one will be sorry to see Stefan go down the river.”

  Lucia reared back and looked at Jon’s face. She’d read the accounts of Judge Casale’s murder, enough to know that it had been an open-and-shut case against his brother, based purely on circumstantial evidence. “That might be enough to free your brother.”

  He blinked once, twice, gripping the iPod so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “Maybe. I hope so.”

  “What?” Pietro barked into the phone on the video. “Yeah. It’s time to get big brother out of the way, and I know exactly how. This organization needs to run right for a fucking change. I’ll take care of it. Keep your fucking mouth shut. Later.”

  Pietro flipped the phone shut, and the iPod’s screen went momentarily dark before flashing to the menu.

  Lucia tried to suck in all the information, and it rolled around in her brain over and over in the heavy silence. “I knew he had something to do with my father’s murder. The police never tried very hard to solve it. They saw my father as nothing more than a career criminal not worth their effort.”

  Jon wrapped an arm around her and brought her against the vital warmth of his hard chest. “This isn’t conclusive, but it might be enough to reopen his case and my brother’s.” He lifted his head and looked around. “We’ll make some phone calls as soon as we get back to our hotel room. Let’s go.”

  Quickly, Jon sent a short text before he took the iPod and shoved it into his pocket. He was right—they should contact people who could help his brother and put Pietro away.

  “Are you sending for backup or something?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’d put them on alert when we arrived. Now I’m asking them to move in.”

  She looked at the jewelry her father had left for her in the metal box wistfully. “And these?”

  He lifted the familiar pieces and put them in her hand. “It goes against procedure, but they have no bearing on the case. Take them. It’s our secret.”

  Even after finding such a huge bombshell, Jon found a way to make her smile. After donning the jewelry, she lifted the metal box. “Should I leave this here?”

  A long moment later, he nodded. “We need to stay light, be ready to run.”

  In truth, she didn’t see how danger could find them now, but she supposed anything was possible. She put the box down. “You didn’t exactly abduct me in the right shoes for that.”

  He peered down at her platforms and grinned. “But they’re sexy as hell.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t mean that only for the compliment, but for all his tenderness, his help, his general goodness.

  “No words necessary,” he murmured, then planted a quick, soft kiss on her lips.

  It was over too soon, and as they left the storage facility, Lucia wondered, after all this was over, what came next for her and Jon? She loved him, but he couldn’t possibly be ready to hear that. After all, he’d walked away from her once before. So where did that leave them?

  They exited the unit. Jon tugged the metal door down, and Lucia locked it behind them.

  Side by side, they walked to the main gate of the storage facility in silence, Lucia waving at the o
wner through the office as he let them out with the press of a button. As soon as they cleared the front to wait for their taxi to return, a rustling behind them caught her attention.

  She whirled but Pietro grabbed her arm and dragged her back against the front of his body, planting a gun to her temple. She gasped and looked at Jon with big eyes, her heart pounding madly. He’d drawn his gun and pointed it at Pietro, but her uncle wasn’t tall, and there was almost no way Jon was going to get a shot off without hitting her. They all knew it.

  “You thought I didn’t know, little girl?” Pietro laughed low in her ear. “You’re a smart girl about books, not men.”

  “You mean criminals,” she growled back at him.

  “Lucia…” Jon warned her, his tone telling her not to provoke him.

  “No!” She wasn’t being too brave, just furious. Of course she knew there was every chance Pietro would kill her. But there was no way she was going down without a fight, and if she could distract him so that she could get free, even better.

  “I know you killed my father.” She was so angry, her voice trembled.

  “You found the tape Nick captured. If I’d known he was keeping videos of everything in that office…” Pietro growled. “But since I offed him, the organization has thrived. The Gamalini family needed a new face. Nick had gone soft, and everyone from the associates to the underboss”—he pointed to himself—“knew it.”

  “And you also framed my brother for Judge Casale’s murder,” Jon said.

  Pietro lifted a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Oh, there’s the traitor. You fucking Fed. Yeah, I had to get Stefan out of the way first. If I didn’t, he would have killed me. Everyone knew he was loyal to Nick, through and through. He’d have done anything to protect my brother. It was easy enough. Now…” he said to Jon. “No more flapping your jaws. Put your gun down.” He jammed the gun into Lucia’s temple. “Put it down now!”

  Heart racing, blood pumping icy cold with fear, she pleaded with Jon not to listen. The second he complied, Pietro would kill them both. But Jon couldn’t do it alone; she was going to have to help. Thank God Mark was such a big believer in self-defense. He’d taught Nicki and her how to keep themselves from being overpowered. And he’d made her brush up when she announced her intent to vacation at Erotics Anonymous.

  Holding the key to the storage unit tight in her palm, she shifted it until it rested between her fingers. She took a deep breath, knowing she’d run out of time. This might be her death, but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

  As Jon scanned Pietro for an opening, Lucia used her free arm to elbow her uncle in the gut hard, putting every ounce of her strength behind the blow. With a grunt and a whoosh of air, he gripped his belly, the gun in his hand momentarily faltering. She used the opportunity to ram her fist—and the key—into his thigh.

  “Ouch! You bitch!” Pietro snarled, gripping his thigh with one hand—and grabbing her wrist with the other before she could run away.

  With his grip loosened, she whirled around and kicked at the hand holding the gun. She heard the crunch of bone. The gun fell to the ground, and he grabbed his hand with a scream.

  “You broke my fucking finger!” Still, he dove for the gun.

  But she was faster and snatched it up in her grip. After a quick glance, she verified that the safety was off and aimed the gun at Pietro.

  Jon walked up beside her, weapon pointed right at her uncle. She glanced his way, and he nodded, giving her a raised brow and a smile. “Impressive.”

  “Thank you,” she said stiffly. She didn’t dare take her eyes off her uncle. Instead, she crept closer and snarled at him, “You didn’t think I had any fight in me, did you? You thought I was a bookworm with no common sense, and that you could get the better of me easily and make Jon comply, too, with the promise that you wouldn’t hurt me. Sucker!”

  “Your father would be rolling in his grave if he could see you now. It’s manly, your behavior. You know how much he liked women to be feminine and sweet.”

  “Are you really going to try that tactic? You killed him. I’d say he has a hell of a lot more reasons to be rolling over in his grave for that than anything I’ve done.”

  Pietro growled, revealing a row of uneven white teeth in his dark face. “I did it myself, pulled the trigger. Nothing was better than offing the older brother who’d always cast a shadow over me, always thinking he was better. I enjoyed it. I stood at his funeral with my arms around you girls and I laughed at every one of your tears.”

  “I hate you.” She clenched her free fist. Jon gripped her elbow, holding her back. “Hate you in a way that I didn’t think I was capable of feeling, but you aren’t going to goad me into losing my temper so that you can get the gun back. But I’m going to give you a little payback.” Gritting her teeth, she kicked at Pietro, landing a blow right in the balls. Her uncle dropped to his knees, cupping his genitals. “That’s for my father. And this”—she slapped him across the face—“is for me.”

  Jon pulled her back. “He’s down. He’s not going anywhere. And lots of FBI agents in suits are on their way to collect your uncle.”

  “You can’t prove anything. It’s all circumstantial, and my word against yours. Everyone will know that you’ve been trying to frame me to free your brother for years.”

  With a smile, Jon leaned into Pietro’s face. “The difference now?” He pulled his phone free from his suit pocket, all lit up and showing that it was recording. “While your niece was beating your ass, I managed to get your confession on tape.”

  AFTER AN EXHAUSTING afternoon and early evening spent answering the FBI’s questions, recounting every detail of the day she and Jon had spent figuring out and following her father’s clues, a very nice female agent had brought her back to her hotel. Jon had been separated from her hours ago, and she didn’t know if or when he’d return.

  After letting herself into the room, Lucia flopped onto the bed, hungry and exhausted. But she’d gladly skip both food and sleep if she could be with Jon. He’d taken her virginity on this bed and cemented her love for him. Now that he’d saved his brother, what happened next? Two years ago, he’d left her without a word. Maybe…now that he’d achieved his goal, he had no further use for her. Lucia hated to think of their time together as the means to an end for him. Nor did she like to demean herself. But she had to be honest. For all the sizzle between her and Jon, expecting more than he’d given her was probably foolish.

  Still, she wasn’t going to give up.

  Best to figure out how to get back to Vegas, so she could get some sage advice from her sister, then head out to give Jon Bocelli a piece of her mind. She’d gotten closure with her father, as well as gathered evidence to put Pietro away finally. That counted for a whole hell of a lot.

  But Jon had made her want so much more.

  Shaking her head, Lucia made a few phone calls, including one to the airline, then another to her sister. Lucia was almost relieved when she got Nicki’s voice mail. She’d rather tell her sister what was going on in person, so she could be both scolded and hugged when necessary. Now she could just spend a little time figuring out her plan.

  After setting the phone down, she took a scalding shower that soothed some of her thoughts. Wearing a towel and scented lotion, Lucia opened the bathroom door in a puff of steam.

  And ran straight into Jon’s wide chest.

  He’d ditched his suit coat along the way, slung his tie around his neck, and clearly raked his fingers through his inky hair more than a few times. He looked tired, but was still the most gorgeous man to her. Her belly tumbled over. No matter where their lives took them from here, she’d never forget everything he’d done with and for her.

  Lucia swallowed down a lump. “Hi. So…it’s over, huh? We did it. You saved your brother. I avenged my father.” She held out her hand for him to shake it. “Thank you for everything, Jon.”

  He cocked his head, then pinned her with a dark stare of displeasure before glar
ing at her outstretched hand. Lucia dropped it to her side, having the sudden feeling that she’d poked a dangerous male animal.

  Jon grabbed the knob to the bathroom door behind her and shut it, then stepped forward, pinning her between it and his formidable body. “Think you’re going somewhere, Doc?”

  “I’m catching a flight back to Vegas in the morning.”

  His expression turned thunderous. “Were you going to talk to me before you left?”

  “I didn’t know if you were still in town. And I wasn’t aware that you gave a damn. Two years ago, you skipped out without saying ‘gotta go,’ ‘good-bye,’ or ‘kiss my ass.’ I figured this was same song, different verse.”

  “You figured, huh? Without consulting me?” Jon drew in a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. “We’re not communicating here, Doc. I admit that I left you once before. I didn’t think you could handle what I wanted from you. Hell, even two days ago I had my doubts.”

  Oh, now that just pissed her off.

  “I was a virgin, not an idiot. Save me your big, bad Dom speech.” She rolled her eyes and tried to push past him. “I’m a grown woman who can make my own decisions. I can certainly handle whatever you dish out.”

  He squarely blocked her path. “Oh, we’ll see about that, pet—as soon as you let me finish what I was saying.”

  Lucia stared, measuring, a little ribbon of worry curling through her. She’d provoked him. But hadn’t some part of her wanted to? “I’m listening.”

  “Since I picked you up and removed you from Girls’ Night Out,” he began, “you’ve proven to me that your inexperience was only an issue in my head. You’re brave and dedicated, and you adapt well. I held back today when Pietro confronted us to let you work out your demons with him. If he had so much as harmed a hair on your head, I’d have blown his head off. I was prepared to. My trigger finger was itching. But you handled him all by yourself.”

  He sidled closer, nudging his thigh between hers. She couldn’t be immune to him. She gasped, trembling. “You handled me last night.”

  The deep rumble of his voice alone made her wet, not to mention the memories of their time together in this room.