by Bethany-Kris
“Stop smiling so damned much on those awful commercials of yours,” Lucian said above him. “This should help. Someone will be back to see you next week, Mr. Crain.”
As the brother’s walked out of the lawyer’s office and down the hall to where his secretary waited, Dante greeted the woman behind her desk with a charming, confidant smile. “He told me to let you know he’s a little worn out, so he’s going to take a nap. Again, we’re sorry for the unexpected meeting, but he knew we were coming.”
“That’s okay, but I didn’t get your name,” the girl said.
Lucian grinned. “You don’t need it.”
Walking down the long staircase that led to the alley, Lucian fixed his jacket and tie for the fifth time. Just as he made a move to push open the door, the rapid sound of assault gunfire had him dropping against the door and grabbing for the weapon in the back of his pants. Dante followed suit, crouched low to the wall with a Magnum in his grip.
As quickly as the gunfire came, it was gone.
The sound of a familiar car alarm ringing through the street was loud and clear.
“This isn’t a part of town where a drive by would be common,” Dante said, glancing up at Lucian.
No, it certainly wasn’t.
“Stay here, yeah?”
Dante glared. “No.”
“Yes, asshole,” Lucian snarled. “Because Dad would kill me if something happened to you. You’re not even supposed to be with me today. Give me twenty seconds. That’s all.”
Refusing to argue with his brother further, Lucian slipped out of the alley entrance door and walked calmly down the way with his gun still out in the open at his side. Sweat had suddenly slicked up his palms, and his heart raged faster. It wasn’t like him to be nervous, but something felt off. So wrong.
The car alarm was so much louder outside.
Out in the brightness of the street, Lucian stood staring at his beloved Lexus in shock.
All the way along the driver’s side of the car, bullet spray littered the car. Windows were shattered, the vehicle was ruined, and it was still running, just like Lucian left it. The Lexus was the only car on the side of the street that was hit.
“Dolce cazzo,” Dante exclaimed from behind him.
“I told you to wait!”
“Did someone try to kill us?”
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Lucian didn’t think the subject of intent was his brother, though. No one knew Dante was working with him but Gio, and that just wasn’t possible. Desperately, he tried to search his brain and remember if someone had followed him that morning.
Nothing stood out.
Someone might have gotten word he was going to be in the area and sought his vehicle out. That was possible. With the car left running, it might have looked like he was inside because the windows were tinted so dark they were illegal.
“Lucian?”
“No, someone tried to kill me.”
• • •
“I thought you were going to the gym today?” Antony asked, turning fast on Dante with his narrowing gaze.
“Change of plans.”
Antony scoffed. “Change of plans, Dante. What would have happened if you were in that car, son?”
“We wouldn’t be having this discussion, I imagine,” Dante replied indifferently.
Wrong answer. Lucian groaned internally.
“Wouldn’t be having this—” Antony pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing out air like a pissed off bull. Lucian knew what was coming next and moved slightly in front of Jordyn to block her from it. A glass went flying into the wall and shattered as Antony’s anger exploded. “Get out of my face right now before I make you wish you were in that fucking car!”
Oddly, Jordyn didn’t seem to react a bit to Antony’s show of rage. She simply continued staring down at her hands resting in her lap while Dante left his father’s home office with a flip of his middle finger and muttering about needing a drink, anyway.
“Lucian—”
“Hey, don’t turn this on me again,” Lucian interrupted his father sharply. “He’s twenty-six, almost twenty-seven. I can’t control him. Besides, this wasn’t an issue two years ago when the three of us were running together like a pack of dogs.”
“I didn’t say this was your fault!”
“It was ten minutes ago when you were yelling at me.”
Antony glared at the wall where the paint scratched from the glass hitting it. “And I was yelling at Gio an hour ago for not remembering to make his bed last Sunday morning before church. I yell. That’s what I do when I’m frustrated.”
“Gio’s twenty-five,” Lucian grumbled under his breath. “He doesn’t need parenting about his messy bed.”
“He does when he sleeps over in my goddamn house and your mother refuses to let me hire her another maid and then complains about the state of his bed.”
“Listen, I handled the cops,” Lucian started. “Quick statement, number to contact, the usual. I didn’t have anything to say, didn’t see anything, and that was that. They can call my lawyer if they want something else.”
“Oh, I know.” Antony shook his head and grimaced. “I hate them picking around, though. They don’t need to be too close to any of us for any reason. It unsettles me. It’s unnatural for us to be communicating with police unless I’m paying them for information.”
“They were interested in why I was in the area,” Lucian added as an afterthought.
“And?”
“And nothing. I said I was visiting a friend. They wanted to know who, and I told them it didn’t make a difference as to why my car was involved in a drive by shooting. They couldn’t exactly disagree. Like I said, they have my lawyer’s number.”
“Was this about me?” Jordyn asked softly from the couch. “Or The Sons of Hell again?”
“Yes,” Lucian said immediately, because that’s what he assumed.
“No,” Antony stated at the same time.
Lucian spun on his heel. “What?”
Antony shrugged. “I don’t think it was about the MC.”
“That’s a joke, right?” Lucian asked. “After our little show with the strip club, you can’t expect them not to try something.”
“Well, unless I’ve heard wrong, it’s not them, Lucian.”
Lucian didn’t like how uncharacteristically quiet Jordyn was behind him. She’d been that way ever since the private car picked her and Antony up from Marcello Industries shortly after the shooting and brought them both to the home in Tuxedo Park. According to his mother and father, anyway.
Maybe she was frightened. Lucian didn’t know. Considering she wouldn’t talk to him.
“What have you heard?” Lucian asked, trying to distance himself from his inner worry.
Antony took his sweet time pulling out his office chair and sitting down, pulling up to his desk. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a manila file and tossed it down uncaringly. Lucian didn’t make a move to grab the file because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to.
“That better not be some crap like you pulled on me the last time I was shown a folder,” Lucian said, tempering his tone. “Not right now.”
By the last time, he meant the bullshit about Jordyn’s past and life.
“Once was enough,” Antony replied dully. “You know why I did that, so don’t start chewing my ass off again.”
“What, then?”
Antony sighed heavily. “Will Vetta is deceased.”
Lucian’s spine cracked as he straightened, hearing the words but not quite believing he understood them correctly. The quiet, whimpered noise behind him didn’t escape his notice, either. It was almost like he could feel Jordyn’s shock and confusion radiating straight into his own veins.
“Excuse me?” Lucian asked thickly.
“Will is dead,” Antony repeated. “His body was found under a Brooklyn bridge by a jogger early last week.”
Lucian’s mind raced to do the math. “But, wait … No, t
hat doesn’t work.”
“It does. I have the reports, son. I paid a pretty dime to get them before they were released as public record, considering there’s an active investigation going on around the club right now. By the Coroner’s estimation, he died at least two days after we hit Legs and Leather. That’s a long time before today, Lucian.”
“One of his guys, then. Maybe following out orders before he died.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Antony murmured. “We made our point. Three men walked into their club and cleared it for business. We barely needed to do a thing. They didn’t expect us. They couldn’t even fight back. It was only a small taste of what we’re capable of, and I think they knew it.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Lucian replied.
“No offence, but one woman isn’t worth taking down an entire criminal enterprise for. At least not for them. They have three dozen more to replace her. Smart men, even if they are criminals, know when they’ve been bested and when to step back. I taught you that lesson myself, son.”
Lucian agreed, but he was still racing to catch up. “So, this means …”
No, he couldn’t even finish the thought.
Jordyn stood from the couch and walked across the room to pick up the file. “Dead?”
Antony nodded. “Yes.”
“How?” she asked.
“Initial reports say it looked like a drug overdose. Heroin, to be specific. However, the body was moved under the bridge after death. That certainly wouldn’t be uncommon for people who don’t want to be caught with drugs because of needing to call an emergency service for someone. However, it wasn’t the only suspicious thing.”
“What else?” Jordyn demanded.
Lucian wanted to tell her to stop and ask her to give herself a moment to breathe and consider what all this meant, but he couldn’t. He was just as frozen as Jordyn seemed to be, stuck in a time that didn’t feel real or right.
When Antony didn’t answer straightaway, Jordyn picked up the file and opened it. Lucian watched as her eyes scanned the report, wetness gathering along her lower lashes the further down she read.
Then, she flipped to the next thing in the file.
It wasn’t a report. It was a picture.
Will Vetta dead on an autopsy table. A sheet covered him from the chest down. The obvious signs of a drug overdose were evident in the yellowed whites of his eyes, and the dried, bubbled fluid around his mouth.
“They found it in his mouth?” Jordyn asked.
“Yes,” Antony confirmed.
“Found what?” Lucian had no idea what they were talking about.
“His patch, the one that signified his rank. It had been ripped off his vest, along with the club patch, and was bunched up and forced into his mouth and halfway down his throat. He might have died of an overdose, but the act afterwards was intentional and a very clear message,” Antony explained, keeping his exterior calm. “That is why I said it’s over between us and The Sons of Hell.”
“He’s … dead. Just like that,” Jordyn whispered. “Gone.”
Lucian didn’t get the chance to say anything or comfort Jordyn, if that’s what she needed, because in the next second, she was flying from the office. He stared at the empty, opened doorway for what felt like an eternity, unsure of what to do.
“Her mother died of a heroin overdose. She didn’t need to see that picture.”
“Jordyn picked it up herself, Lucian. I didn’t tell her to.”
“But you could have warned her!”
“No,” Antony responded coldly. “She needs to see, to have proof. She’s safe. That was what she needed, Lucian. You gave her that. Now, give her a moment to let her mind catch up to the information.”
Lucian’s was only now starting to. “It wasn’t about her today. The shooter wasn’t making a point or trying to catch Jordyn.”
“No, son.”
It was about Lucian. Someone was trying to kill him.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Jordyn waved her hand above her face as a reply to Lucian. Reclining back on the leather couch in the bedroom that once was his in the Marcello family home was the only way she felt like she could control the rushing waves of shock and nausea.
“What are you doing in here?” Lucian asked.
“This is your room, isn’t it?”
“It is. This home also sports a guest house, small gym, mini library, two entertainment rooms, the indoor pool, and way too much space elsewhere. You could get lost in the hallways alone. Just curious as to why you picked here to hide.”
Jordyn shrugged. “Feels like you.”
“Oh. Well, okay.” Lucian shifted on his feet before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “You ran out of there pretty quick, so I didn’t get the chance to see how you were feeling.”
“Not particularly well,” Jordyn mumbled into the crook of her arm.
“Yeah,” Lucian drawled lowly. “I didn’t think so. Want to talk?”
“Not really.”
With her eyes covered, Jordyn relied on her hearing to know what Lucian was doing. It was only the sound of the bed shifting that told her he was sitting just a few feet away. She wanted to curl deeper into the hoodie she found in his closet earlier and get lost in the couch. Screw the rest of the world, it didn’t need her right now.
“Jordyn?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you go through my stuff in here?”
“Yes.”
Lucian chuckled. “You can keep the hoodie.”
“Too late. You weren’t getting it back anyway.”
“Great.”
“Also, the weed hidden in the box on the back shelf of your closet is pretty dried out. You should get rid of it. I don’t think it’d be a very good smoke.”
Lucian’s laughter was a balm to her overworked nerves. “Will do. It’s probably been there for ten years now.”
“I thought you slept here on Saturday nights to do the whole breakfast and church thing on Sundays?” Jordyn asked.
“Before you came along, sure. I’ve been a little distracted lately.”
“Family is important, Lucian. Don’t use me as an excuse to skip out on your responsibilities.”
“You sound like my mother,” Lucian replied, sounding entirely disturbed. “I don’t like that. It does nothing but creep me out. Quit before it becomes a habit and I’m stuck with it. If you want to ruin our sex life, that’s a great way to start.”
“She has a point,” Jordyn said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t mind being here on Saturday nights.”
“If that’s what you want, sweetheart. I don’t want to hear a thing when you’re regaled with discussions on sleeping in the same bed, sex before marriage, and sin. It will happen, I promise you that. Before you know it, Cecelia will have you convinced the only way you’re going to heaven is if you walk down the aisle in an ivory dress as soon as humanly possible. She can arrange a wedding in a week, including paying off the priest to forget about the required six month couple’s counseling. Do not underestimate the manipulative powers of that woman.”
“I’ll deal with it,” she muttered. “Besides, she’ll probably just bother you.”
“True.”
Finally, Jordyn moved her arm so she could see Lucian. A faint smile played at the edge of his mouth, but the concern in his heady gaze was all too clear.
“He’s really dead, huh?” Jordyn asked in a whisper.
Lucian nodded. “Yeah, bella. Will’s dead. And may he rot in hell where he belongs.”
“You sound angry.”
“I am.”
“Why, isn’t this a good thing? I mean, it should be.”
“Sure it is. Except I didn’t get to do a thing to him that I wanted to. I didn’t get to make him bleed for marking your face, or break his bones for him breaking your skin. He didn’t have to hurt or cry or beg … nothing. I feel like it was left hanging. That was too easy for him, Jordyn. It was
nothing like what I would have done to him for what he did to you.”
Jordyn felt the shiver crawling up her spine from Lucian’s anger and darkness. Occasionally, the treacherous nature of his soul flashed harsh and bright, reminding her that beneath his sweet and gentle hands was a dangerous man. She loved it as much as she worried about it.
“Sometimes revenge leaves us nowhere but cold, Lucian.”
He bared his teeth, sneering. “No, I think it would have left me sky-high.”
“It’s just hard to believe,” Jordyn said softly, melting into Lucian’s warm palm as he moved to stroke her cheek. “After everything, that’s how it ends for me and him. I’m never going to know what I did to make that man hate me, or why I deserved his bitterness and abuse.”
“Maybe it wasn’t what you did,” Lucian offered, shrugging, “… but what someone else wouldn’t give him.”
“My mom, you mean.”
“That’s the first place I’d start looking.”
“I think he loved her once,” Jordyn murmured. “She didn’t love him.”
“Bad men made monsters, sweetheart.”
Jordyn sniffed away emotions. They felt useless now. “I guess I just don’t understand the mindset.”
“I think it’s likely he went after the next best thing to hurt her. The closest thing he could stand tossing out his cruelty to, and unfortunately, that happened to be you.”
“Is that what you would do, too, if you couldn’t have what you loved?” she asked.
Lucian blew out a harsh breath. “No. I’d eat my gun before I would ever hurt someone I loved, especially you.”
“It seems too easy, and I don’t know where to go from here. What do I do now?”
“With me?”
“Who else would I do it with?” Jordyn asked, giving him a look. “Yes, with you.”
“We live.”
Jordyn’s lips cracked with a smile that matched Lucian’s, but it faded all too quickly. “Except someone shot up your Lexus this morning hoping you’d be inside.”
Without saying a thing, Lucian urged her up to a sitting position on the couch. Kneeling between her knees, he traced the contours of her cheeks and lips with his thumbs softly. As his digit rolled over her plump bottom lip again, Jordyn kissed it.