Made to Beg

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Made to Beg Page 9

by Piper Stone


  “Don’t try and stop me, Lorenzo. There’s nothing you can say.”

  I placed my hand on his arm, using little muscle to keep him from going out the door. As usual, he really didn’t want to disappoint his family. He was exactly like our beautiful mother. I led him into the small bar, the location almost empty. What few customers were inside paid us no attention. Still, I kept my voice low. “What did our father say to convince you to come back?”

  “It’s not as much what he said as how he phrased the words. He thinks the family is going to fall.” Stefan took a deep breath, raking both hands through his long hair. Through the years, several people had said that Stefan and I could be twins, but he’d changed during his stint saving the world. He was at least thirty pounds lighter than the last time I’d seen him, his skin sallow. I could tell he’d suffered over the years.

  “Did he happen to mention why?”

  “Not really, but I could hear fear in his voice when he called.”

  “When was the call?” I asked, knowing Stefan wouldn’t have simply gotten on the first plane.

  “Over two weeks ago.”

  The information hit me hard. My father had been planning this shit for that long.

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  There was no advance notice, no smoking gun so to speak. There was merely an eruption of violence, the popping sounds of gunfire permeating the entire restaurant. Within seconds, the screaming began as dozens of people scrambled to get to the front door as all hell broke loose.

  Bullets tore through various pieces of furniture and I could see several innocent people going down, trapped in the melee. I’d experienced attacks before, was used to the escalation of gunfire, but for some insane reason I was caught off guard for a full ten seconds.

  Until I heard the deep voice belonging to my brother.

  “What the fuck?” Stefan asked, cringing. “Damn it. I’m unarmed.”

  “Stay here!” I commanded to Stefan as I grabbed my Beretta from my jacket, racing toward the back room, flying over fallen chairs and tables.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  I had to push my way through petrified people including several waiters and waitresses, curtailing my response time. Although seconds had passed, another round of gunfire burst through the wails and cries. The panic was horrific, many customers trampled, tables turning over, and dishes shattered in their effort to get the hell out of the way. The private room door was ajar and only seconds before I burst into the room, an unknown assailant dressed as a fucking waiter raced out of the room.

  In a split second I fired my weapon, the single bullet hitting him right between the eyes. I wasted no time before lunging inside, the stench of blood filling the space, crawling into my nostrils. The two soldiers guarding the door were down, two others from our party writhing on the floor. My father was nowhere to be seen. I crouched down, grabbing the gun from one of the soldiers’ hand.

  A glint caught my eye and with everything moving in slow motion, I snapped toward the disturbance, firing with both barrels. The second unknown assailant was riddled with bullets, the force pummeling him against the wall. As he slid down to the floor, I rushed toward him, kicking the gun out of the way. I could tell the fucker was dead, his vacant eyes staring back at me.

  Rage rushed through me, nearly blinding. We’d been freaking set up. I shoved the second weapon into my jacket, swinging around to eye the carnage. The walls were covered in strings of blood. I was able to see my father slumped against the back wall, his breathing ragged. I ran around the table, hunkering down.

  “I’m... fine,” my father wheezed.

  “Yeah? Well, just stay here until I make certain there’s no more of these bastards.” I grabbed my father’s hand, forcing him to put pressure on what appeared to be a shoulder wound.

  Armando crawled toward my father, shell-shocked but otherwise all right.

  I gave him a nod and jerked to my feet, heading to the other side of the table. “What the fuck happened?” I roared as Dante struggled to get to his feet.

  “The assholes burst in out of nowhere and just started shooting,” Dante managed. His arms were splattered in blood.

  “How many?”

  “Three.”

  “Fuck me,” I hissed, scanning the room quickly. I knew by the tats covering the assholes that they were Axel’s men.

  “One of them left a message, boss,” Dante added.

  I tipped my head, taking several deep breaths. “Yeah?”

  “He said it’s payback.”

  Goddamn the motherfucker. This meant war. “Whatever happens, protect my father and lock this place down. No one comes in or out.” I didn’t wait for an answer, I knew Dante would follow my orders. I raced out of the room, jumping over tables, constantly scanning the area.

  I realized the damn police would be arriving soon and I was determined to find the third asshole. Then I would send a message of my own.

  There was nothing to prepare me for the sight of my brother as he stumbled into the main dining room, his breathing ragged. He held his hand against his stomach, his fingers flexed open and blood seeping through his shirt.

  “Stefan!” As he started to go down on his knees, I caught him, slowly taking both of us to the floor.

  “I’m... sorry... brother,” he whispered, clinging to me.

  No. No. This wasn’t going to happen.

  “Stay with me, Stefan. We’ll get you to a hospital.”

  He struggled to swallow and I could hear sirens in the background. When his mouth moved, I shook my head. “Just hold on. Just fucking hold on.”

  Stefan tried to smile, the move forcing him to cough, blood seeping from his mouth.

  Oh, God. Oh. Fucking. God.

  “Stefan. Stay with me! Stay. With. Me!”

  There was no way to describe my emotional state as my only brother collapsed in my arms, his body falling against mine. Helpless.

  Lifeless.

  I threw my head toward the very heavens, my entire world crumbling around me. I’d been the monster, a man with no soul. Not Stefan. Not sweet and loving Stefan. As the light dimmed from around my eyes, I knew in my heart that I would stop at nothing to destroy the person responsible. “No!”

  Chapter Six

  Sierra

  Death.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about darkness and death as I paced the floor in the living room floor, trying to rationalize why I had such morbid thoughts. Something was wrong. I knew it. Lorenzo had been gone for hours. I walked into the kitchen, staring at the clock over the stove. It was after two in the morning. Anxiety swept through me, my heart beating irregularly.

  Wait a minute. We weren’t a couple, no matter the deal that was struck. For all I knew, he was out drinking and dancing with several women. I was merely an inconvenience for him; he felt an obligation to help me given I’d ended up on his doorstep.

  No, I refused to think this way.

  I pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator, my nerves remaining on edge. While Lorenzo was callous, harsh, and unforgiving, I didn’t see him as a womanizer. Then again, what did I know? Everything he’d told me all those years ago had been a lie. His profession? Stockbroker. His hometown? St. Louis. I’d bought his lines of bullshit. I doubted his favorite color was even orange. He’d wanted nothing more than a quick fling. No ties. No remorse.

  He isn’t the only one to blame.

  My inner voice jabbed at my current level of guilt. I’d told a few little white lies myself. At that point, I’d been a nobody, writing fluff pieces for the Baltimore Sun, barely making enough money to keep my landlord from evicting me. The only reason I’d been able to go on the trip with my girlfriends had been because one of them had insisted I go along, funding the lion’s share of the whole thing. I’d mentioned I was a hotshot reporter out of Los Angeles.

  A laugh bubbled across my lips. What right did I have to chastise him for anything he’d told me?

  If I’d known who he was, would I have moved t
o Chicago even given my father’s encouragement? Likely not. Or maybe. Yes. Hell, I didn’t know. I wasn’t making myself feel a damn bit better. The only truth in what we’d shared had been physically, our connection stronger than anything I’d experienced before, but there was no way to make a real life that way.

  Let alone pretend we’d entered into some kind of relationship.

  After heading back into the living room, I walked the perimeter of the room, trying to get a better feel for the man himself. While there were books on the shelves, even magazines, I had no doubt he hadn’t read a single one of them. They were props, much like almost every aspect of his house. There were no family portraits, no telltale signs of his love of sports or music. Nothing.

  It was as if he existed more than lived, although the house and surrounding grounds had to have cost him a fortune. I continued my search, finally the only thing of real interest a vast array of DVDs, the collection he’d amassed amazing. He had hundreds of them. Nothing could have shocked me anymore. I didn’t take Lorenzo as a hermit, but if he had to constantly look over his shoulder, maybe movies were his respite.

  As I looked through the various titles, initially there were no surprises. He did have a love of basketball and football, several of the DVDs highlighting various players through the years. The action movies were typical and very much a guy thing.

  Then there were the few surprises. Romances. Comedies. I chuckled as I pulled a few of them from the cabinet, running my finger across the covers. Not a single one of them had any plastic wrap. They’d been seen at least once.

  By whom?

  The dark and dangerous man? The one with no love for anyone? I was taken aback, holding one of them against my heart. There was much more to this man than he wanted anyone to know about.

  After carefully placing the movie back in its exact location, a smile magically appeared on my lips. Maybe he was a man I could learn to care about.

  That is, if he was still alive. Should I even care? I had to face the fact that what we’d shared a lifetime ago had affected me, the dark passion changing my perception of what I wanted out of a relationship.

  You’re not in a real relationship. Everything you’ve shared was fake.

  My inner voice struck again and she was right. We couldn’t go back to the past, the days of perceived innocence. However, I didn’t want him hurt.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer.

  I raced toward the front door, throwing it open. Both men standing guard reacted quickly, reaching for their weapons as they rushed inside.

  “Are you all right, miss?” one of them asked, standing ready to take out any perpetrator.

  After closing the front door, the other soldier stormed into several of the rooms. They’d been well trained, their security detail made clear.

  “I’m fine, but I know something is wrong with Lorenzo.” I took several steps backwards, wringing my hands.

  The second and larger man walked back into the foyer, darting a glance at the other soldier. “It’s all clear. What do you mean something is wrong? Did he contact you?”

  “No. I don’t have a phone. Just a gut feeling I have. It’s very late. He was just going out for a business dinner.” I heard the ridiculous whiny tone in my voice, a clear indication that I’d allowed myself to care just like I had before. Damn it. I’d thought of him far too often in the last several hours, trying to determine why my feelings were all over the map.

  Because you’re afraid of getting hurt.

  Again.

  They shared another look between each other. “I wouldn’t worry, miss. Lorenzo can take care of himself.” The first soldier slipped his gun into his shoulder holster, trying to give me some sort of a smile. Both of them thought I was ridiculous. He was a powerful mafia leader after all.

  “I realize who and what he is, but I would feel better if you attempted to contact him.” I studied the first soldier’s face, wondering how anyone could enjoy being a part of this life. His nose had been broken several times, now permanently crooked. The scar under his eye was recent, almost taking out a portion of his vision. Even one of his fingers was crooked, indicating a hardcore break at some point. I envisioned the kind of torment he must have endured and shuddered. This wasn’t a life I understood or could tolerate. He seemed to notice I was studying him like some specimen, fisting his hands and giving me a respectful nod.

  “Boss doesn’t like to be disturbed,” the second soldier stated, easing closer.

  “Look, if he says anything, tell him I’m to blame. There is something wrong. I’m telling you.” Now I was exasperated. Why?

  The two men simply looked at each other.

  “Humor me. Okay?”

  The first soldier sighed, pulling out his phone. “I’m certain he’s fine. Certain business meetings go on for hours.”

  “If that’s the case, I won’t bother you any longer.” I stood my ground, glancing from one to the other.

  He hesitated another few seconds before punching in a single number, turning away from me. The moment I walked closer, the second brute held out his arm, shaking his head. I wasn’t to interfere.

  “Yeah, boss. The little lady says she’s worried about you. Asked me to call.”

  There was exactly ten seconds worth of conversation before he nodded but the way he rubbed his forehead indicated there was some sort of an issue.

  “You got it, boss. We’ll be here.” He ended the call quickly, shoving the phone into his pocket then giving the other man a head nod, beckoning him closer.

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded.

  The two of them spoke in hushed voices, the second soldier heading outside, the weapon planted firmly in his hand. But he looked back, his face pinched.

  “Fuck,” the scarred man said, hissing under his breath. “How the hell did that shit happen?”

  They both darted a look in my direction. “An ambush,” the first said in a hushed tone.

  An ambush? My mouth was bone dry, my heart racing.

  When the first soldier closed the distance, I instantly backed away, holding up my hands. I had no reason to trust these men.

  “What ambush?” I managed.

  “Everything will be fine. I’m Justin and Drake and I will be here until Lorenzo’s return. You need to make yourself comfortable. The boss man is going to be a while. I’m going to stay inside the house just in case. There should be no issues.”

  “Don’t lie to me. An ambush indicates someone was hurt or worse. What’s going on?”

  Justin stood like some stone statue, not even bothering to look me in the eyes.

  “Jesus. Look, I understand you’re following orders, but I need to know what’s going on. I deserve that much. I’m stuck here. Don’t you get that?” I had no way of knowing if anyone knew what I’d gone through or why I was here in the first place.

  “Lorenzo needs to tell you himself.”

  I inched even closer, the scent of his aftershave filling my throat with bile. “That’s not acceptable. At least you can tell me if he’s hurt.”

  The asshole remained tightlipped.

  “What the hell am I going to do with that information? There are no phones in this damn house. Trust me, I’ve checked. There’s no way I can contact anyone, and I doubt that you’re going to allow me to run to the closest neighbor. Just. Tell. Me.”

  He blinked several times, cocking his head to one side. “Lorenzo wasn’t hurt in the incident, but he needs to handle some cleanup. That takes time.”

  “Incident. What incident?”

  “As I said, Lorenzo is going to have to tell you if he wants to.”

  “Fine, Justin. Any idea when he’s expected back?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t. You’re to stay here until his return.”

  I exhaled. “As if I could go anywhere. Make yourself at home, Justin. I’m certain you know much more about this house than I do.” A chill trickled down my spine and I was ready to lash out at anyone who pissed me off ev
en if they didn’t deserve my wrath. “Let me ask you something. How could you work for him? How could you do this kind of job?”

  He twisted his mouth but remained quiet.

  “How could you place yourself in danger every day and night? Do you have family? A wife? Kids? I couldn’t imagine what they must be going through. You’re criminals, likely to be killed before you reach thirty years old.”

  Justin looked uncomfortable as hell.

  “I get it. I don’t know what I’m talking about,” I whispered, raking one hand through my hair. “You can’t talk to me. I’m nobody.” I turned toward the living room, adrenaline rushing to my head.

  “I had a wife and a baby on the way,” he said in such a quiet voice that I almost didn’t hear him. I turned to face him, my stomach churning.

  I stopped short, gripping the doorjamb, no longer able to breathe. “Had. What happened?”

  “My wife was attacked by a gang on her way home from work. She was a nurse, forced to work in this godforsaken shit hole of a hospital. I begged her to get a different job, but she loved the people she worked with. I told her that as soon as the baby came, no wife and mother of my child was ever going to work again. I was moving up in the world. She hated what I did, so yeah, I get what you’re saying, but you don’t know what Lorenzo is capable of.” Justin took a deep breath, his eyes unfocused. “Anyway, her car broke down one night. She’d worked second shift. It was so dark and I couldn’t get to her fast enough. The bastards... They um...”

  Oh, my God.

  When I heard the glitch in his voice, I shifted toward him. There were tears in his eyes. Trembling, I reached my hand out, yanking it back. I certainly couldn’t ease his pain. “I’m so sorry.”

  He sniffed and glanced away briefly. “I was ripped apart, ready to kill everyone I came in contact with. I wanted revenge and was ready to take the entire gang on. Lorenzo stood by my side through everything, helping me keep my shit together. He made certain I had everything I needed, including money for the funeral. He kept watch over me, refusing to let me get myself killed.”

  I had no idea what to say, but hearing the sadness in his voice brought tears to my eyes. “Did the police ever find them?”

 

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