Rev It Up

by Julie Ann Walker

  “Because when Vitiglioni realizes he can’t get to us, he might start going after targets he can get to.”

  Jake nearly tossed his dinner at the mere thought…

  “S-so you’re telling me you intend to bring in everybody’s families?” Shell demanded, her expression filled with disbelief. “Mac’s and Ozzie’s and—”

  “Come on, Shell,” Boss cut in. “Everybody else’s families don’t live here in Chicago, where the hit men just happen to be hanging out. Your situation is different, and you know it. I might’ve been less worried a week ago. But after that stunt you pulled in the hospital, I have to make sure I take the proper precautions.”

  Rock had filled Jake in on the situation with Shell and Boss. The fact that Boss had kept her hidden from the employees of BKI and the fact that Shell had recently blown right through that rule.

  A little part of him thought, Go, Shell. Because he couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for her to remain separate from that part of her brother’s life when she’d grown so accustomed to sharing it. Of course, after everything that’d happened back in California, he could certainly understand why Boss had chosen to do what he’d done, and knowing she’d inadvertently entered the crosshairs by appearing with BKI personnel had him wishing she’d stayed hidden away—permanently.

  “You planned this all along, didn’t you?” Her eyes flashed, and Jake was pretty sure that had Boss been the least bit flammable, the dude would’ve burst into a giant fireball then and there.

  “What? Planned to have some jack-off Las Vegas mobster put a price on our heads?”

  “No. You planned to back me into this corner even before you came to my house this evening. That’s why you were trying to convince me to pack a bag so Franklin and I could spend the night.”

  Boss shrugged. “Yeah? So what? If you’d cooperated, you’ve have what you need now instead of me having to send Snake after it.”

  “You deliberately manipulated me!”

  “Nope. I just chose not to fight about it at the time. I know how overprotective you are and how you get when something threatens Franklin’s schedule.”

  “You know why I’m such a stickler about that,” she snarled.

  “Just because we had a deadbeat father who dicked up our childhood doesn’t mean you have to micromanage every waking minute of Franklin’s.”

  “We. Are. Not. Staying. Here.” She enunciated slowly, meticulously.

  “Fine,” Boss said, and Jake’s heart hammered at his easy capitulation. Damnit! He needed Boss’s help in this, and if the big guy was going to give up so—

  “If you don’t want to stay here,” Boss continued. “You can take Snake home with you to act as your bullet-catcher.”

  Oh, you giant, ugly, wonderful sonofabitch!

  “No way.” Shell was already shaking her head before he finished the sentence. “Send another of the Black Knights home with me but—”

  “As it happens,” Boss interrupted her, “we’re already stretched thin. He’s the only man available for the job.”

  The knife that’d cut straight into Jake’s heart when Shell said she didn’t love him, the one that’d twisted when she claimed she may never have loved him, stopped turning and began to retreat. Because he hadn’t been kidding when he told her he could change her mind. Given the right set of circumstances and enough time, he knew he could win her over.

  And it seemed Boss was determined to silver-platter the right set of circumstances for him. If the look of horror on Shell’s face was anything to go by, she knew it as well.

  A small smile tugged at his mouth.

  “B-but I d-don’t want him to—”

  Boss talked right over whatever objection she began to make. “I also think you should tell Miss Lisa to take the rest of the week off. You don’t want to have to explain to her why Snake is glued to your side. It’ll cause too many questions. Just tell her a friend has come into town who’s willing to look after Franklin and that she should use this time to take a much deserved paid vacation. In fact,” Boss whipped out his cell phone and handed it to her, “why don’t you give her a call right now?”

  Jake knew by the obstinate expression Shell wore that she was very tempted to throw that cell phone straight back into Boss’s face. Instead, she took a deep breath and grumbled, “There has to be another way.”

  “Nope.” Boss shook his head. “It’s either take Snake home with you, or you and Franklin stay here where I can keep you safe.”

  “But I have clients and meetings,” she ground out, careful to keep her voice pitched low so as not to wake the sleeping boy. “I can’t just hang around here for however long this will take and—”

  “Which is why it’s best all the way around if you let Snake act as your bodyguard for the next few days. He’ll watch your back and take care of Franklin, and you can go about your business as usual. You okay with that, Snake?” Boss turned to him, and if Shell hadn’t been watching, he felt sure the big guy would’ve winked.

  “It’s fine by me,” he said, still fighting the urge to run over there and plant a big sloppy one on his former CO’s face.

  “Good,” Boss slapped his knee and stood. “Now, there are a few specifics Snake and I need to discuss. Shell, while we’re doing that, why don’t you make that call to Miss Lisa, then get your stuff and meet us by the Hummer.”

  “Snake,” Boss turned to him, “you should probably perform a few escape and evasion techniques on the way to her house just to be safe. Oh,” he snapped his fingers, “and on that note, you’ll be taking the river tunnel out of here.”

  River tunnel? They had a river tunnel?

  Too cool.

  Once more he felt a jolt of pride at what Boss and Rock had built for themselves here in Chicago. And once more that jolt of pride was quickly followed by a trickle of regret that he hadn’t been here to build it all with them…

  “We’ll have one of the guys ride your bike over tomorrow morning and exchange it for the Hummer.” Boss continued.

  “Sounds good.” Sounded better than good. Sounded great, because it meant he’d get to have Shell all to himself.

  “Excellent.” Boss nodded, then frowned. “Wait a second. I didn’t ask if you’re okay to drive. How much beer have you had?”

  Not enough to keep me from wanting to toss your sister over my shoulder, cart her upstairs to one of those bedrooms, and make love to her until the sun comes up.

  Of course, there wasn’t enough booze on the planet to keep him from wanting to do that…

  “Only two over the last three hours. I’m good to go.”

  “But I don’t want him to—” Shell tried again.

  “You know what your options are.” Boss glared down at her, one hand raised in mid-salute by that bright blue cast and the other firmly planted on his hip. Though the stance was highly ridiculous, Boss still managed to make it look menacing. “Which is it going to be?”

  Shell turned to Jake then, glaring like this was all his fault. In response, he flashed his dimples and a wink.

  “Ugh,” she carefully plopped down in a lawn chair, angrily punching in some numbers on Boss’s cell phone with one hand while she cradled Franklin’s back with the other. “I knew it was a mistake to come here tonight,” she muttered as Boss once more pointed Jake toward the munitions building.

  After they’d gone some distance, he ventured, “Just what are the chances this Johnny character will come after Shell and Franklin?”

  “Very remote,” Boss assured him, using the key to open the thick metal door to the armory. “Johnny wants us dead. We’re the ones who killed his cousin and brother-in-law. But I’d already decided to bring her here or send one of the boys back home with her even before you showed up, so I’m glad you arrived when you did. And now, you’ve got the chance to convince her you’re not our father.”

  “Yeah, uh,” Jake scratched his ear. “I gather there’s a story there, you know, given you called the guy a deadbeat.”<
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  His former CO sighed, sliding a surreptitious glance over at Shell who was nodding and speaking quietly into the phone although the expression on her face was anything but conciliatory. “I never spoke much about dear ol’ Dad, did I?”

  “Much? Try never. I always assumed the dude was dead.”

  Boss motioned him through the door to the armory and, as Jake stepped inside, he breathed in the metallic scent of the weapons, the slightly tangy aroma of gun oil, and the more acrid smell of cordite. Why he found that combination particularly appealing spoke loudly of the life he’d chosen to live.

  “I don’t know if our father is dead or not,” Boss admitted. “I haven’t seen or spoken to the man in almost twenty-eight years.”

  Jake raised a brow.

  “My dad had a thing for younger women and used to pretty blatantly cheat on our mom. When I was twelve and Shell was six, he finally quit trying to play the father and husband and split. Our mother fell apart after that and Shell…well, I guess Dad’s leaving probably affected her the most. It made her wary, mistrusting…”

  Jake’s heart broke for the scared, hurt little girl Shell had once been, and he realized how much courage it must’ve taken for her to swallow her fear four years ago and give him, a self-described ladies’ man, a chance. The same chance he’d immediately proceeded to screw over and toss out the window.

  Jesus, you’re an ass, Sommers…

  “I guess that’s why I was so surprised back in California when it looked like you two were starting to hit it off,” Boss mused. “Considering your similarities to our father.”

  “I would never screw around on my wife,” he insisted, pissed beyond measure to find himself lumped into a group of cheaters.

  “Hell, I know that,” Boss scoffed. “But Shell doesn’t, and she didn’t back then either. I suppose that’s why she was so quick to settle on Preacher after things with you two hit the skids.”

  She’d settled on Preacher because he’d literally thrown her at the guy, and Shell was smart enough to recognize an honorable man when she saw one.

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he tried to read Boss’s mind.

  “Because, like I said earlier, this isn’t going to be easy. And I figure you’ll stand a better chance if you realize exactly what you’re up against.”

  Yo, as if all the shit that went down between me and Shell wasn’t bad enough…

  “But she’s worth it.” Boss watched his face intently.

  “Damn, dude, I know that,” he huffed. “I just wish I could find your father and gut him like a fish for making my job that much more difficult.”

  “Ha!” Boss clapped him on the shoulder and spun him toward the shelves lined with every weapon an operator could ever desire. “You’ll have to get in line for that. Now, even though I don’t think Vitiglioni or his goons are really going to go after Shell, I figure we’re better off safe than sorry. Pick out whatever you need.”

  He started toward the shelves then hesitated, turning back. “Why are you willing to help me with her?” he asked, gauging the big man’s reaction with a practiced eye.

  “Because she’s a good woman, and she needs a good man. I always thought you were a good man, Snake.”

  As warmth unfurled in his chest—because, yo, for more than a few years he’d doubted that very thing—he feigned wiping away a tear as he kicked an imaginary rock, “Aw, shucks, Boss. You’ll make me blush.”

  “A pain in the ass,” Boss added, “but a good man. Of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t sneak into your room while you sleep and slit your throat should you hurt her.”

  Chapter Six

  The Stardust Hotel

  Chicago, Illinois

  Listening to the couple going at it next door, Johnny contemplated shoving his hand down his pants to join in the festivities—sad, but self-service was the only kind of service he’d been getting since he’d gone into hiding—when his prepaid cellular phone buzzed on the nightstand. Startled, he nearly tumbled off the lumpy piece of cardboard that passed as a mattress in this filthy hotel.

  “Damnit, what now?” he growled, refusing to answer the vibrating phone. The only person who had access to this number was his sister, and she was only supposed to call him in case of emergency.

  Emergency? Yeah, right.

  So far today, Mary had had three “emergencies.”

  The first crisis involved her calling to ask for the keys to his Lamborghini. Because she wasn’t going to be seen driving to Tahoe in her lowly Mercedes Benz—the spoiled bitch.

  Next, she’d wanted to know if he could deposit 20K in her checking account. It didn’t matter to her that ever since the debacle with the senator, the one that’d gotten both her husband and their cousin killed and caused the FBI to start nosing around his holdings, he’d been forced to transfer all his funds to an overseas account, go underground, and stop making purchases in order to stay under the government’s radar. No, none of that mattered to her, because she had her twisted, frigid little heart set on this canary-yellow diamond at Tiffany’s, and she was accustomed to getting exactly what she wanted and damn the consequences to anybody else.

  Which brought him full-circle to emergency numero tres, which, like the other two, hadn’t really been an emergency at all. She’d simply called because she was bored and wanted to know if any of the Black Knights or their family members were dead, yet.

  Um, no. If they were, he’d have called. Just. Like. He. Told. Her. A. Million. Times.

  The insistent buzzing of his phone had him cursing and throwing one of the stale-smelling pillows across the room—imagining it was his sister’s frail body—before he pushed into a sitting position and pressed the “talk” button with enough force to bend the nail on his finger.

  “What the hell do you want now, Mary?” he barked, trying to drown out the sound of the couple in the next room.

  “Where are you?” she screeched. He held the phone away from his head and briefly considered flinging it across the room to join the smelly pillow.

  “First of all, what phone are you using?” He couldn’t take any chances with the Feds on his tail.

  She sighed heavily. “The prepaid one. Gimme some credit.”

  Uh-huh. Credit. Right.

  “And where are you calling from?”

  “From inside the safe room like you taught me. Come on, Johnny. No one’s eavesdropping, so cut the crap and tell me where you are.”

  “I’m at the hotel,” he said, grinding his teeth.

  “Why aren’t you doing something for Chrissakes? Isn’t that what you’re there for?”

  He lifted a hand to his brow and prayed for patience. “I told you I’ve hired an investigator to dig up dirt on the Knights and their relatives. That takes time, Mary.”

  “Yeah, and in the meantime, what are you doing to avenge the brutal murder of my dear, sweet husband?” she demanded.

  Oh, give me a friggin’ break.

  For one thing, sweet was not a word that had applied to Mary’s husband in any way, shape, or form. And for another, it was true the guy was murdered, but Johnny could think of a lot more brutal ways to go than a single shot straight to the ol’ gray matter that instantly put your lights out.

  “If you must know, I followed the Knights to a local hospital yesterday, and while I was there I found out—”

  “Well, why didn’t you just kill them all while you had the chance?” she interrupted, her voice petulant.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she was clueless. What? Did she expect him to pull his pistol in the middle of the hospital, where there were hundreds of cameras ready to catch his every move and a whole gang of security guards geared up to take him down the minute he opened fire?

  Stupid gash. That was just one of the many nasty names hovering on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back along with all the rest. “Killing the Knights doesn’t make sense. Killing their families does. It’s poetic justice. An eye for an eye.”<
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  And he couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when their relatives starting dropping like flies. They deserved all the hell he was about to rain down on them for offing his brother-in-law and cousin. Of course, if he was really honest, he had to admit the great majority of his thirst for vengeance came from the financial hit he’d taken and the business losses he’d suffered when he’d been forced to go off the grid.

  He’d succeeded in remaining under the government’s radar for fifteen long years, and it severely pissed him off that it was a bunch of leather-wearing bikers who’d managed to burn him.

  “Well, if you aren’t going to kill them, then why did you take out that ad in Soldier of Fortune?” Mary asked.

  Her tone infuriated him, and he screwed his eyes closed, rubbing at his aching temples. Just how dense could one woman be? “Because those bumbling, white-trash wankers who answered my ad will hopefully keep the Knights distracted long enough for me to exact revenge on their families.”

  “And if they actually manage to kill one of the Black Knights?”

  “Well, that’s a bonus, now isn’t it? But I seriously doubt any of them will even get close. Last night, I waited at the bar across the street for over an hour for one of those hit-man wannabes to come claim their reward money. Not a single one showed.”

  Of course, he wasn’t going to complain about that. He didn’t really relish the thought of handing over fifty Gs even if the cash was going to a good cause.

  “So, what did you find out at the hospital last night?” she asked.

  “That one of the Knights has a sister and a nephew who live here in Chicago. I tried using the whole flower delivery trick on her this evening, but she’s warier than most broads. She wouldn’t open the door. It doesn’t matter, though. I’m going back tonight, and I will kill both her and her son.”

  “Oh, good,” Mary gushed. “Well, keep me informed then.”

  She clicked off without saying good-bye, but Johnny didn’t give a rat’s ass how rude his sister was, because the couple next door was ramping it up for the big finish, and despite the crudeness of the show, or maybe because of it, his cock began to throb with interest.