Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  “Don’t lie to me, Kace,” he warns, sternly. The seriousness in his tone is like nothing I have ever heard before. He isn’t playing around as my mind starts the spiral of what if’s… What if all my lies fuck me over in the end? What if he isn’t there with me in the end? What if he hates me? “Just don’t…”

  And all the power I thought I had over him dissipates with the evaporation of my wetness.

  13. Gridlocked

  Monday, December 20

  12 days before…

  The next evening, I’m sitting on the floor of Jaid’s loft as we try and assemble the pieces of Kaci’s wreckage. Jaid is across from me as we study our printouts and notes. The wall fills with pictures of the important ones.

  After a half dozen cigarettes and just as many beers shared between us, she says, “What is it…this arrangement?”

  “The Arrangement exists between the Gods—Cesario Raniero, Angelo Gennaro, Saint Cruz, and Delarte Cristos—the one and only thing I think they have ever all agreed upon. The Four Horsemen agreed that all children from any of their offspring would be killed.”

  “So, the grandchildren?”

  “Ya,” I say, pulling my knees to my chest and scanning over the wall of faces. At the top, the Gods of our war stand pronounced. Beneath those pictures, the children – both Jaid and myself as well as others – wait. “Maybe we are looking at this the wrong way.”

  Her expression welcomes my new idea. “What do you mean?”

  “Flip them. All of them. The four and the children. Put the children up top.”

  “What about the rest of the people connected to those?”

  I arch a brow high. “Don’t worry about anything but the horsemen and their kids.”

  She rolls up onto her feet, and I catch a glimpse of her ass in the cutoff jeans. I ignore the notion, though I don’t want to. But because I can’t have her—I want her desperately. It’s a cruel trick some bitch plays. Some bitch, who clearly wasn't a man, didn't understand what it was like to go around half-staff for days on end.

  She moves the pictures as I suggest and it becomes clear. Five sit on top of Cesario – the sister witches and myself. Angelo had Dom and three sisters, Saint spawned two – Deacon and his sister, Wendy, and Delarte polished it off with his two—Nick and the blushing innocent before me.

  “Baker’s Dozen,” I remark, sipping on a beer. “Now, pull the ones we know are involved with Sibyl up a few inches.”

  “So, you and me. Dom,” she says, moving the shots and pivoting back to me. “Oh god… Sal…”

  “Ya, you see it, too.”

  Her hand reaches up to cover her mouth. “They are pitting the boys against one another, which means they have to know of your connection to Dom.”

  “Does Nick know anything of your work?”

  “I don't think so,” she whispers, returning to sit with me and stare at the obvious. “Nick was always with my dad. I moved to Tennessee with Mom, I hardly ever saw Nick.”

  “If they get them, this war is going to go on for at least one more generation.”

  “Kaci had to know,” she says slowly.

  Glancing over at her, I say the words I don't want to speak, “I think she did, and she invested with the birth of Merritt.”

  “Sal…” Her face turns glum like even she can't believe the heinous acts Kaci would be responsible for. “That would mean she has been plotting this for years.”

  “You don't think she's capable?”

  “I know she's capable, but that's dangerously manipulative. She had a child to integrate us all.”

  “The same reason she married me.” I snarl with anger. “A child she threw away and gave to the most unlikely of people to raise it.”

  “If that kid is seriously Deacon’s, then she had to know what they were plotting for a long time.”

  I stack the papers on the floor up because they no longer matter. “And how the fuck did she know that?”

  We sit in silence, pondering the problem. The solution doesn't even exist right now. “The fact is if Deacon and Nick align, this will be all out war. We have to get both of them and quick. We have to solidify something between four of us before this turns into the Four Horsemen version two. And don’t think it won’t or can’t.”

  “I'm part of the swing…”

  “Ya, I know, that's clear. You shouldn't be here hanging out with a northerner. You are playing on the wrong team.”

  “If being against you is being on the wrong team, I'll stay right where I am,” she says, reaching out and laying her hand on my back. “But it also means she used me for four years to rein me in, so don't think you are alone. She knew I wouldn't go against her and she knew you and I would hit it off.”

  “And she mashed us up even more because of the allegiance with Amber. Technically, she should be loyal only to Cruz.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “The only thing I can—become best friends with Deacon Cruz and Nick Cristos.”

  She leans slightly towards me and ruffles her fingers through my bangs. “You need to be careful playing against the wishes of those men because as soon as they find out you are all buddy buddy, they will try and take you out. And if they get one of you off the board, the whole dynamic of the game will change.”

  I shoot her a look and laugh as I repeat, “… Buddy buddy?”

  “Yeah, you know whatever you and Dom are…”

  I think I resent the implication of her accusation like we are doing more than just bromancing. “Dom and I are…complicated.”

  “Bullshit Nero, you and Dom are lovers – maybe not of your own volition, maybe because Kaci pressured you – but either way, you’ve gone there. Do you plan on letting Deacon and Nick have at it, too?”

  I know what she is saying, but it doesn’t change the picture or the currency by which we slide our pawns across the spaces. Everything is available to buy, sell, or trade-off, and depending upon what is at stake, the counteroffer could be exorbitant. For instance, how bad do I want Cristos' stake in Texas? Enough to bend over for the old geezer? Maybe. “You have a problem with my going—head down, ass up?”

  “I have a problem if you aren’t keeping a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of things. It got you hurt, remember?”

  My body tightens up as I remember the brutal rape I endured in the middle of a dark alley. I’m not even sure Kaci knows the extent of the attack. The only reason Jaid knows is she is in Sibyl and part of our team.

  Unfortunately, Dom knows, too. I decided to confess the morning before my nuptials, but I also proceeded to tell just Jaid of Dom’s therapy, involving the reclamation of my backside. Now, everyone seems to think I’m some king of ass sex. “Not the second or third time.”

  She giggles as my remarks lighten the load. “I don’t want you stuck in a bad position again. There is a limit.”

  “That line moves fluidly.”

  “I understand that, but it doesn’t excuse it,” she argues with a passion. “Someone got ahold of you and hurt you.”

  I brush off her over concern. “I’ll get ahold of them one day.”

  “… Someone had you raped to knock you off of your game.”

  “Did it?” I bounce, rhetorically. “Do I seem off my game?”

  Her face contorts to a look of terror and confusion. “You still think it was an inside job?”

  “Yes,” I say with reassuring confidence. “Three pings from our tracking implants went off from that location, and Kaci doesn't have one.”

  “And the trackbacks?”

  “Scrambled and blocked. Georgia has been working on it for months, but we know nothing more than we did then.”

  Her blue eyes sparkle with a glistening of tears as we return to the question of Kaci’s knowledge. “... She still doesn't know?”

  “Not unless Jack, Dale, Dom, or you have said anything.”

  “What about Amber?”

  I shake my head. “I care about her too much and vice versa. If she knew
someone did that to me, she'd probably go slit their throat.”

  She blinks down as I sense a reluctance in her. “… You have no idea how hard it is not to protect the ones you love.”

  My eyebrows pinch together as I accept what she is saying. I’ve known for months how close we were getting, but her admission of feelings are now out there, sitting between us. My typical response would be to fuck her senseless, but Jaid isn't my norm, and neither are my reactions to her. We are the exception in my rulebook.

  Wrapping my arm around her back, I pulled her closer and held her tight as my lips press to the top of her head. “I love you, too.”

  She murmurs. “I know you do, Sal. I know you do.”

  Hours later, I'm lying naked in bed with Amber. On her side, she lays her hand on my chest and touches my cross. In the dark and silent room, she whispers, “What's the goal here?”

  I peer over at her and stroke her hair, “With?”

  “Kaci and the future…a child is a big deal…”

  “To keep moving forward with our goals and try not to lose sight of the ball even though the coach is taking an extended leave of absence.”

  “You mean the mastermind,” she says, sliding onto my body and straddling my hips. Her heat begs on my erection as she lowers to kiss my lips. She hovers above me, her lips brushing against mine with every breath. “Will you keep me safe though?”

  Startled by her fears, I caress over her thighs and encourage her allowing my dip into her pool. “Baby, I will always keep you safe. You are my girl.”

  “What if it came down to Jaid versus me?”

  With her refusing to take the hint of my hand, I pull back to run my fingers through my hair. “You can't be serious.”

  “I am,” she declares with a somewhat frightened expression as she lifts up, retreating. “You cannot stop what is coming. That storm is building out in the ocean, gathering up steam and hate. When it comes ashore, there will be no mercy from the pure violence it inflicts. You can't stop what is on its way. That path is headed straight for you.”

  “I care for Jaid, but you know my answer.”

  I expect the conversation to shift with my response, but she digs deeper. “And Iris versus me?”

  “Don't…”

  “It’s a legitimate concern, Nero,” Amber worries with slight irritation. “Tell me because I need to know where I line up in the pecking order.”

  Reaching out, I grasp my hand around the back of her neck and pull her towards me. With our lips close enough to kiss, she blinks away as the intimate truth is too much. “Look at me,” I command, not taking her shit. “Now.”

  Her gaze meets mine with the drip of tears from her cheeks to mine. The pain of connection hurts her, but I cannot stop her ache. “What?”

  “Don’t give me your attitude. I know you have fears, but you are going to have to trust me. You are going to have to believe in me,” I growl, understanding what she sees isn’t a figment of her imagination but the future in a crystal ball. She’s right – one way or another – my father is coming after me. And that puts every single person connected to me in danger. The kind of danger to get them put six feet under in a heartbeat. The words flow out of my mouth, but even I’m not sure of the actual truth. “You are my girl—you.”

  “And what happens when I’m not,” she whispers in a babbling crescendo. “Then what?”

  “What would you like me to say? What would make you feel better? What lie needs to fall from my lips?”

  Her tears escalate to a whole new level of sobbing. “I don’t want you ever lie to me. I want to know if I’m ever in immediate danger, you are gonna give me the heads up before I end up with a bullet in my brain or sent down the river.”

  “It’s more effective in a lake,” I tease with a flick of my brow.

  She giggles in the mess of slobber. “I just want to know you’ve got me.”

  “Baby,” I promise, caressing her cheek. “I’ve got you. But if you need to stop fucking Cesario Raniero’s son, I understand that completely. I’m a target, and that is only going to get worse.” She opens her mouth to say something several times, but no words come. “Say it.”

  “… Is it that bad?”

  “To be involved in his business?” I question as she nods. “Yes, it is that bad. I’d rather play rogue mercenary than take a seat on the floor by his throne.”

  “It’s just…”

  My finger presses to her mouth. “I get what you are asking. You want to know if he is as bad as Saint, and the answer is no—he is much worse than Saint. Saint Cruz has a heart, or he wouldn’t have removed Merritt from the picture. My father is a vile, corrupt, ruthless son-of-a-bitch. No one should be involved with him, so don’t go getting any ideas. Your cunt can only belong to one Raniero, and he is me. Are we clear?”

  She sniffles and nods. “Kaci calls me your practice slut…”

  “I’m aware of what she calls you,” I say, stroking her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “And you are not that. You are my best friend, my lover, my confidante, my mistress. And I don’t know what the future holds, but I can assure you of one thing—I will take the bullet or the river,” I say with a smirk, “before I let them take you.”

  “What can I do to help persuade Cristos to hand over the network in Texas to you?”

  “Not what you are thinking,” I say with a renewed conviction. “Keep Saint happy, and that is enough for me. And slide that sweet pussy onto me because all the talk has me stressed the fuck out.”

  I wipe the tears from underneath her eyes and press my hands to her cheeks as I pull her close for a kiss. We are tight and solid. Hopefully, I’ve given her some stability in my words. “What are you going to do as soon as this is over…”

  I know what she is asking—what am I going to do when Kaci dies? “Get seriously fucked up for a couple of weeks. Find Hennessey and get to Dom as fast as possible so that I can fuck the hell out of you night and day.”

  Her body moves down mine as she lightly sets on top of my growing cock. “Swear to me.”

  “I swear, I’m coming to find you. You are getting the fallout, but you may want a safeword,” I say with a snicker. “I can’t promise I’m gonna be a nice guy.”

  “I can handle your kind of mean,” she baits with a smirk as she latches her fingers around my shaft. Her blue eyes shimmer like diamonds and her pouty lips are red and swollen from crying. As much as I hate to admit it—the sight turns me on.

  “You think you can,” I retort quick, smoothing my hands over her hips. “But you may be mistaken.”

  “Bring it, Raniero,” she challenges, slicking against my dick. She feels amazing as I thrust up and dive into her shelter. There is such joy in fucking this girl. Amber makes sex fun again and less like work. She reminds me of how it used to be with Kace, but that thought sends my heart and mind into a downward spiral that never ceases. My wife is dying, and I’m getting off in this girl. I’m such a fucking mess. Kaci has my hardwiring hooked up wrong. Just when I think I’m about to meltdown, sizzle, and ignite, her fingers lace into mine as we shift towards a place where this pain won’t exist. “Talk to me.”

  “You don’t want to know,” I grumble, forcing back the tears, harboring the failure.

  “… Irrepressible guilt?” The sound of her voice sheaths over me in a blanketing aura of forgiveness and absolution. “This isn’t your fault. Blame me if you have to. Take out the struggle on my body, but don’t turn it inward. Don’t inflict that kind of pain on yourself. Because I may not know much, but the one thing I do know is that this is not your fault. You didn’t cause this war, Sal. If anything, you are a casualty of it, and that includes my placement in it. You didn’t put me here. You didn’t pick me up in a bar,” she says, rocking slowly on me. My dick hardens even more as we both know—she has my attention. “You didn’t come to me by accident. You came to me because Mierne, who you trust, recommended my services because of your wife. You are not to blame.”

 
“Cheating is wrong…”

  “And I agree,” she says with passion. “If it were any other situation, I wouldn’t be here. Your wife is paying me to fuck you. Let her do it. Because she can’t.”

  “… She won’t.”

  Her brow arches up high, and her head tilts. “What do you mean she won’t…”

  “She won’t fuck me.”

  “Define won’t…” she implores with urgency as her body stills upon me.

  I sigh, reluctant to reveal – to trust – too much again. Putting my faith in one did nothing but leave me heartbroken with Kaci. “Shit happened that never should have…after the honeymoon.”

  “I will stop pushing, but if you need to talk...”

  “If I need to talk,” I say, smoothing my hands up over her creamy thighs. “You will be the one I call.”

  Will she? Or are you lying as Kaci taught you?

  “Sometimes,” she says, shaking her head. “Sometimes, I hate her for what she has done to you.”

  You aren’t alone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Packing,” he whispers from the dark corner of the room. “We have to head to New Orleans tomorrow, Kace.”

  Rolling towards Sal, I study his sexy silhouette as I glance at the clock—2:31 AM. “Why the hell are you packing at this hour?”

  “Because we are leaving as soon as you get up,” he grumbles, shoving shit into the duffel bag at a frantic pace.

  I can tell by his tone, he’s pissed or irritated or maybe both, and while I typically would let it go, he woke me up with all his banging. “I already am up.”

  “Sorry,” he dismissively replies like it is no big deal that he disturbed me.

  “You know what, maybe I’ll just stay here,” I bait, knowing he will stop the flurry of activity and screech to a halt to have a battle with me. Feeling perturbed myself, I throw extra fuel onto the flame. “I can celebrate the holidays with Jack.”

  He pauses briefly and glances in my direction before returning to a steady pace of haphazard packing. “You are not staying here. You will be coming with me. You do not have a choice.”