by Jayne Blue
I moved to the top of the stairs. My mother stood at the center of the men, just like she always did. They leaned in close, hugging her, but over her shoulder, I could see the naked greed in their eyes. Everyone down there was play-acting. At the center of the room, my mother had my father’s pewter urn on display next to a giant portrait of him. He stared back with his kind, shining eyes, watching me as the vultures gathered.
“You okay, sis?” Gianni and Joey seemed to come out of nowhere from one of the back rooms at the top of the stairs. Gianni favored my mother, with his long nose and wide-set eyes. I reached up and touched his cheek, grateful for the sincerity I found in his gaze. Of all of us, Joey had had the least to do with Daddy’s business, preferring to work construction on the south side of town. He looked uncomfortable in his designer suit. I reached over and fixed his crooked blue tie.
“Come on,” I said. “Daddy’s waiting.” Gianni took my hand and we descended the staircase together.
I played the part my mother laid out for me. I wouldn’t shed fake tears the way my brother wanted. I stayed straight-backed and stoic, taking a page from my mother.
Yes, it was a tragedy. Thank you so much for coming, Uncle Frank. No question, Daddy wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden. A blessing, a relief, really.
Later, I found a secluded spot in the corner by the large fern my mother kept in a gold pot. At least, I thought it was secluded. A hand on my elbow startled me.
“Sorry, kid,” Dr. Lombardi looked down at me with sad eyes. “Sorry about all of it.”
I smiled at him and steeled myself for another round of small talk. “So am I. But thank you for everything you’ve done for us. I know it was hard at the end with my mother, but she’s bouncing right back.”
Lombardi looked over at her and chewed his bottom lip. “That’s Christine. She’ll outlast us all. Gino always told me she was the real strength and brains behind the family. I suppose that might be true. But then, we haven’t seen the last of you, have we?”
It seemed an odd question. I reared back a little before answering. “I beg your pardon?”
Lombardi put a paternal arm around me and squeezed my shoulders. “I just mean, don’t let ’em swallow you up, kid. I think you’re more like your mother than your father. Although, you look a little peaky. Why don’t I come back and see you next week?”
I patted his hand and gave him a curt smile. Then I ducked out from beneath the fern and moved further down the hall. Looking back, no one followed. My mother’s lilting laughter echoed, but stayed distant. I snuck through the oak double doors leading to my father’s private office.
I’d spent hours here as a little kid, playing dolls at his feet while he took calls and handled paperwork. He’d always seemed so big and strong. My father could do anything, I thought. I slid into his green wing back chair, sinking into the warm leather. His scent still lingered here and it comforted me.
“Oh, Daddy,” I whispered, spreading my hands over the desktop. He had an old-fashioned felt ink blotter. A stack of papers fanned out beside it. They were the ones I’d found in his safe last week. I gathered them, straightening them into a neat pile. Then I knew someone had to do the hard thing and honor my father’s wishes. I’d read them over and over, hoping I would make the right choice. God, so strange for such a powerful man to be reduced to these few pages of legalese.
I flipped through the last pages, looking for my father’s scrawling signature. When I found it, I ran my fingers over the giant, looping D he always made. Then I sat back and began to read them again with new eyes.
Chapter 21
Zig
“Georgio’s taking charge. At least, that’s the word he’s trying to put out. All of our contracts up and down the coast have been canceled,” Bear said. The table fell silent and my own heart seemed to stop beating. I turned my head toward Bear, hearing every bone down my spine creak in protest. I knew I was damn lucky to be alive, but every fucking inch of me protested in pain when I moved.
“Fuck him,” Axle said. He looked over at me from across the table. My wounds would heal, but right now, I was still a walking, bruised reminder of how serious the threat from the DiSalvos was.
“Gino’s funeral is tomorrow at Saint Lucia’s,” Bear said. “E.Z., Maddox, Benz, you’re coming with me. Wear your cuts. I want ’em all to see who they’re still dealing with. The rest of you, ride to the cemetery. Show of force.”
“You expecting me to sit this one out?” I asked. I was an officer of this club too.
“Yeah,” Bear said. “I am. I said show of force. No need to rub Christine’s nose in what happened.”
I pounded my fist against the table. “You mean about Gina.”
“Fucking Christ, Zig. Yes. She’s gonna be there. We don’t need drama beyond what we can control.”
“It’s not about drama,” I said, even though everyone at the table knew I was a fucking liar. I wanted to see her. I wanted to know if she was okay.
It had been ten days since I’d last seen her at the hospital and broke her fucking heart. I tried to tell myself it was for her own good but it didn’t make it hurt any less. God, cutting off my damn arm would have felt better. I would be dead if she hadn’t come back to the house that night and found me there. I owed her my life. I owed her my heart. And all I could do was give her pain.
“I’ve heard rumblings from Emerald Point on the other side of the gulf,” Bear said. “Somebody from Georgio’s camp reached out to the Great Wolves M.C. over in Florida. Lucky for us, they don’t know we’re allies. Nash Tillman gave me the heads up that the DiSalvos are looking for new muscle.”
“Mother fucker,” E.Z. said. “You think Christine knows he’s doing that? You know how that looks for us?”
“It makes us look vulnerable,” I said. “What the hell did Nash tell Georgio?”
Bear leaned back and drummed his fingers against the conference room table. “He put ’em off. Said he’s interested just in keeping suspicion down, but it ain’t good. The Devils Hawks will catch wind of it soon enough.”
“Bear, you know we’ve got no choice,” E.Z. said. “You tell me right now if you think Christine is aware of what’s going on? If you think there’s even a chance Georgio DiSalvo is just going rogue on this, there’s a way to deal with it. If he’s got his mama’s backing, well then, that’s a different story.”
“We gave her a show of faith,” Bear said, leveling his gaze at me. Me. I was the show of faith. I agreed to stay away from Gina. Bile rose in my throat. “Now, like I said. We give her a show of force. Zig, it’s gotta be this way. You are not walking into that church with us. That’s final.”
I leaned forward, resting my chin on my fists. “But that doesn’t mean you can keep me away from the cemetery,” I said. “I’m riding in with the rest of the crew. It’s where I belong.”
Bear let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. All right. Yeah. But you stay with the rest of the crew. You hear me? No showboating. You stay on your bike and in formation.”
My lips curled as I clenched my teeth. “Yeah. I hear you, Bear.”
He pounded a fist against the table. “Good. Then it’s settled. Let Gino’s cousins see us at the funeral. They’ll know what it means. After that, we give Christine an ultimatum. Either Georgio goes, or we take her down with him.”
The table rumbled with pent-up rage. In another life, I could have appreciated the solidarity. When Georgio DiSalvo made a move on me, he got the whole club. As much as I wanted to make him pay ... oh ... and I would, I still couldn’t get Gina out of my mind. If the DiSalvos went down, so would she unless she stayed way the hell out of it. God, I hoped Christine had sent her packing back to college. It was the best place for her. There, she could forget the last couple of months had ever happened. She could forget about me.
Gino DiSalvo’s funeral took place on the brightest day of the year. The Texas sun baked my skin as I sat on my Harley, gripping the handlebars hard enough I thought I could grind them int
o dust. Kade and Axle parked on either side of me. We’d chosen a spot high on a hill overlooking the DiSalvo family mausoleum. The noon bells tolled from the church and the funeral-goers filed out. On the opposite ridge, away from the crowd, two black SUVs parked at odd angles.
Feds.
Two agents in black suits snapped photographs with high-powered zoom lenses. If Gino took care of business before he died, their presence meant nothing. Still, they clicked away, taking shots of Gino’s entire family. My heart hammered inside my chest as two limos pulled up. Gina was in one of them.
Georgio and his two remaining brothers got out of one of them. Georgio led the pack, clutching his father’s urn. They’d inter it inside the hulking marble building alongside two generations of DiSalvos. Georgio scanned the horizon, his mirrored sunglasses pointed straight at us. His mouth turned down and he straightened his suit jacket. He leaned over to Gianni DiSalvo and the two of them hustled toward the mausoleum.
The door to the second limo opened and my heart dropped down to my boots. Gina got out. She wore a black suit with a straight skirt. Her long legs poked out and she teetered on black stilettos. Christine stood beside her and laced arms with her. Gina zoned in on me, her gaze like a tractor beam. From this distance, I couldn’t read anything in her eyes, but her mouth formed a small ‘o.’ Christine leaned over to her and pulled her toward the mausoleum. They disappeared inside.
We waited.
Bear and the others walked among the headstones, heading straight for us. The feds’ camera lenses swung sideways, catching their progress. But they soon turned their attention back to the DiSalvo family. After about a minute, they lowered their cameras and got back into the SUVs. Their work done for the day, they drove off.
Bear and E.Z. reached us together. “Well,” Bear said. “We sure as shit rattled Georgio. Christine? That woman is an ice queen.”
“What’s the play?” Deacon asked. My insides were still churning. I couldn’t drop my focus from the door of the mausoleum, waiting for Gina to reappear.
“We wait,” Bear said. “Right here. The procession has to come back this way and we’re gonna line the road leading out of the cemetery. Anybody who didn’t notice us in the church will get an eyeful now. Smile pretty for the feds if they make their way back here. Christine needs to know I’m not fucking around.”
A crowd emerged from the mausoleum, but I couldn’t see Gina among them. She was probably standing at the center amidst her taller cousins and uncles. A limo broke away from the crowd and headed for us. Bear stiffened. The main funeral procession headed toward the back of the cemetery. Only this one limo headed for us.
It screeched to a halt and the back door opened. My fingers twitched near my sidearm. Georgio got out, his face devoid of all color.
“What the fuck is this?” he hissed, straightening his tie. “You’ve had your fun. Now get the fuck out of here and let me bury my father in peace.”
Christine got out behind him looking calm and regal. Gianni stood at her side. I found that odd. As far as I knew, the kid wanted nothing to do with the family business.
“My son has a point, gentlemen,” she said. “And I think you’ve made yours.”
“We need to settle some things, Christine,” Bear said.
“This isn’t the time or the place,” Georgio hissed.
Bear advanced on him. The other car door opened and three of Georgio’s bodyguards got out, guns drawn. I recognized them from the beach. I drew my own weapon and pointed it straight at one of their heads.
“At my father’s fucking funeral,” Georgio yelled. “What more proof do you need, Mother? This shit needs to end now.”
Christine held up two fingers, silencing her son, and stepped around him. She went nose to nose with Bear in her high heels. “You want to talk? Let’s talk. But Georgio’s right. Not here. Somewhere neutral. How about the warehouse outside of town where we met last?”
Neutral. She was off her rocker.
“Nah,” Bear said. “I think here is just fine.”
Christine raised a brow and smiled. She was fucking stone cold. “Fine. You in the mood for confessing, Mr. Bullock? Saint Lucia’s is open. Bring yourself and three of your men. No more.”
“Fuck that,” I said, getting out of my seat.
It was Bear’s turn to raise a hand to hold me back. “Agreed,” he said. “But likewise. You, Georgio, and two of your men.”
Georgio started to protest but his mother held out her hand to shake Bear’s. The deal had been struck. “Give me thirty minutes,” she said. “I need to dispose of the rest of my guests.”
She got back in her car. My blood raced and I couldn’t see straight. “Bear,” I managed to get out. “This is a bad fucking idea.”
Bear stared after Christine’s limo as it slowly pulled away and headed back down the hill.
“Yep,” he said. “But at least after today we’ll know where everybody stands.”
He turned to the crew. “The rest of you, take positions around the church. Nobody makes a move unless you get a signal from me. You’ll know it when you hear it. E.Z., Axle, you’re with me.”
That was three. Christine’s terms were that Bear would go in that church with four men. He turned to me; raising his index finger, he pointed it at my chest.
“Bear,” I said, ready to plead my case.
“You don’t say one fucking word, you hear me Zig? Not one word. You stand at Axle’s side. You watch his six. That’s it. We clear?”
I waited for a beat, half expecting him to change his mind. When he didn’t, I gave Bear a grim nod and turned to mount my bike. We rode down together, Maddox taking the lead. Chase brought up the rear. I rode directly behind Bear, letting the gravity of what he’d done settle over me. He’d put his faith back in me after everything that had happened. He didn’t have to do it. Hell, even I would have understood if he decided to keep me outside. But he didn’t.
Christine’s limo was already parked in front of the church when we rounded the corner after leaving the cemetery. She had a second limo parked further down. Half of the guys peeled off and took positions near that one. Three went to the front entrance of the church, the rest to the back. That left me, Bear, E.Z. and Axle. Bear slid off his sunglasses and tucked them into his collar as he took the church steps two at a time. E.Z. was at his side, followed by Axle. I walked behind him, the hairs already rising on the back of my neck.
Christine DiSalvo knelt at the altar. Georgio stood beside her, hands folded as he turned his back to her. Two of his bodyguards took positions on either side of the altar, their hands resting on their sidearms. I did the same.
We waited. Christine made the Sign of the Cross and slowly rose to her feet. She turned and stepped around Georgio.
“We need to make this brief, Mr. Bullock,” she said. “Surely you can understand, I have pressing commitments for the rest of the day.”
“You know,” he said. “They don’t make ’em like Gino anymore, do they?”
Christine gave him a genuine smile. “No. They do not.”
“He’d have hated this.” Bear stood with his hands folded. “The cemetery bullshit. The sermon. He’d have liked that you didn’t lay him out. That was a nice touch.”
Christine kept that smile plastered on her face. Georgio flinched and I realized that’s exactly what Bear wanted. He was hoping Georgio would slip up, try to escalate things. Then Christine couldn’t pretend anymore.
“I’m glad you approve,” she said, making the slightest gesture with her hand toward Georgio. I knew it wouldn’t work for long.
“You know,” she said, “he liked you very much. He said you were one of the last truly honest men in the world.”
Bear laughed at that. “Well, I suppose that’s true.”
Christine came forward and held out her hand to him. Bear took it. “Like I said, I regret I don’t have more time for you. So let me cut to the chase, as they say. This is where we end things, Mr. Bullock. I think your
club has outlived its usefulness to my husband’s organization.”
E.Z. made a noise. I knew damn well he saw falling dollar signs behind his eyes. Axle got a hold of him first, holding him back.
“It’s not that simple, Christine,” Bear said. “A month ago, it might have been. But you see, your son here has started something he can’t finish. So I have to.”
“What are you talking about?” Christine looked truly shocked. For the first time, I realized she might not actually know that Georgio tried to kill me. Jesus.
“We’re both too big to fail,” Bear went on. “I know you saw your other uninvited guests up there on the ridge, snapping pictures. You try to take us down, you’re going down with us. Now I know that’s not what Gino would have wanted.”
Georgio did move then. “Get your fucking hands off my mother. You’re done soiling the women of this family.”
He dropped Christine’s hand and puffed out his chest. This time, Axle grabbed me to keep me back.
“You see this?” I said, drawing a line down my cheek. Most of the bruises had faded, but I still had an angry red scar along my temple where one of Georgio’s kicks had landed. “This is your son’s way of dealing with misunderstandings.”
Christine looked truly shocked. “Georgio?”
One of his bodyguards had a hand on his shoulder, wise enough to realize taking a swing at me would end badly for Georgio. “He got what he deserved, Mother. Just like Junior did. You asked me to do your dirty work then too. Remember? And it worked. Gina hasn’t wanted anything to do with this dickhead ever since.”
Christine’s face lost all color. She turned to her son. “You idiot. Are you telling me you did this without talking to me first?” I couldn’t tell if she was truly shocked or just trying to cover so Bear wouldn’t think she’d sanctioned the attack on me. It didn’t matter. Georgio acted for the DiSalvos. She’d given him that power.