Maddox: The Wild Ones (Jokers MC Book 3)

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Maddox: The Wild Ones (Jokers MC Book 3) Page 10

by Jessie Cooke


  “Hell no,” he said. “Only men with a death wish know any of Blackheart’s sisters.”

  Maddox smiled. “Well then, it’s safe to say you know of her?” Antonio nodded.

  “But what the hell would she and my old man have to do with one another?”

  “I’m not sure,” Maddox said. “I haven’t found a real connection, but it just seems too much of a coincidence to me that the two disappearances on the same day out of the same neighborhood are not related.”

  “You know, my old man and I have had a rocky relationship for a lot of years, but that’s all been about me being a dickhead. I was looking forward to my one-year sober anniversary. I was gonna make a trip over and tell him in person. Fuck...my old man is the nicest guy in the world. Honestly, it’s why I was such an asshole, he let me take advantage of him for too long. I can’t think of one damned person who would want to hurt him. Even when I was strung out and he refused to give me any more money...I never once thought about hurting him.”

  “I keep hearing that,” Maddox said. “About what a nice guy he was. But you can’t think of anyone at all that might have a problem with him? Did Louis gamble, or maybe there was someone he borrowed money from?”

  “Those fucking Italians,” Tony said. “He didn’t borrow no money from them, but he paid them for fucking nothing every week. That was one of the last, big fights we had, me and him. I wanted the money for drugs, but when he wouldn’t give it to me and I found out he was paying them, I freaked. I waited for the fat one to come out of the shop one Sunday morning and jumped him. I was on meth so unfortunately I underestimated how fucking weak and thin I was. He had this canvas bag on him that I was thinking was full of money, but the fucker pulled out a wooden bat...he had a name for it, told me he wanted to introduce me to ‘Louie’ right before he knocked me out with it. When I woke up, my old man was nursing me back to health and as soon as I could function, he took me to the bus station and sent me here to Mississippi. I was as much of a piece of shit here at first. That’s been over three years ago, but I’ve only been sober just about a year now. Fuck, I should have been checking on him. I’m not weak and skinny anymore. If those motherfuckers hurt him...”

  He was definitely in pain from the guilt he felt for leaving his father alone and Maddox felt for him. “I promise you, Tony...I’m going to get to the bottom of this. But I have to ask you to leave me to it, okay? At least give me a chance because if you go in ready to bust heads, you won’t get anything out of these guys.”

  Tony was nodding again but tears were swimming in his eyes as he looked up at Maddox and said, “You get those fuckers, okay? It had to be them. Nobody else would hurt my Pops.”

  “If they hurt him, they’ll pay for it, I promise.”

  When Maddox left, it was with Antonio’s phone number, and address. Just because he wasn’t a trusting guy by nature, he made a quick stop on his way out of town at the trailer Tony lived in. The back-door lock was easy to jiggle loose and it only took Maddox half an hour to thoroughly search the small space. It was as neat as a pin, and Tony’s twelve-steps AA books were both in the living room and next to his bed. There were no weapons, and no signs of drugs or alcohol or any type of paraphernalia. There was also a photograph that was the focal point of the small living room. It was an 8x10 of Antonio and Louis probably a decade earlier, in front of the butcher shop...obviously, happier times. Satisfied that Tony hadn’t had anything to do with his missing father, Maddox headed back toward New Orleans. All roads seemed to be pointing to Mario and his boys. They were the only ones who would have reason to hurt Louis according to everyone Maddox had spoken to. Maybe Brigette was a witness to their hurting him, or maybe things went too far in the shop and she saw them bringing out a body. Either way, it didn’t bode well for either missing person. People like Mario didn’t leave evidence of their crimes just lying around, so finding Louis and Brigette might have just become next to impossible.

  13

  Maddox had to cancel his coffee “date” with Carmella. He had business he had to attend to, and he convinced himself it would be better to wait until she was off work to talk to her anyway. As soon as he got back to NOLA, he headed for Mario’s house for a surprise visit that he was sure Mario wouldn’t appreciate, and he was right. Mario’s “butler” let him in again, but this time he didn’t find the friendly, affable man waiting for him like he did the last. As soon as he stepped into the living room Mario’s dark brown eyes were on his face and Maddox could almost see actual flames in them. “You fucking told the cops that I changed the video? You fucking think I had something to do with that man disappearing...and that young girl? You think I’m a fucking monster? Not only that, but you smile to my face and stab me in the fucking back! And I’m the monster!” He was yelling, and Maddox knew he was getting a glimpse of the Mario Tucci not many people ever saw...at least not that they saw it and lived to tell about it. He waited, patiently, and when Mario seemed to be finished with his tirade he said:

  “Can I explain myself?”

  Mario snorted out a laugh and said, “I don’t know, Mr. Maddox. Can you fucking explain yourself?”

  “I had to give them something so that I could see the video...”

  “So you fucking gave them me?”

  “I never mentioned your name,” Maddox lied. “The person I think is responsible for this is your nephew, Frank...he’s the name I gave them.”

  “You’re a fucking moron if you don’t know that giving them one of my men...my family...is the fucking same as handing them me on a platter!”

  “But you’re not saying Frank is innocent, are you?”

  “I don’t have to fucking tell you what I think! You’re lucky I’m not shoving my .357 down your fucking throat right now.” Maddox wasn’t afraid of much. He definitely wasn’t afraid of Mario, and since his family had been gone, he wasn’t afraid of dying either. He smiled at Mario, though, and said:

  “I know how smart you are, Mario. I know if I went missing right now, the detectives who came to visit you today would know full well that it was you who disappeared me.”

  “What the fuck do you want from me?” Mario asked.

  “Just the truth. Brigette Babineaux is a sweet young woman...just about the same age as your own daughter...”

  “What the fuck do you know about my daughter?”

  Maddox held up his palms. “Nothing,” he lied. “I met her here that day, remember? You think if your daughter went missing and Blackheart had any information about that, he would keep it from you? I’m just wondering how Blackheart is going to take knowing that one of your men might be involved in making his sister disappear, and you’re hiding him.”

  That caused Mario to pause, but it was only for a few seconds before he found his voice again. “Get out of my house, and don’t come back,” he said. “You’re not welcome here.”

  Maddox smiled, nodded, and left. He knew that he’d made a powerful enemy...but he also had a feeling he’d gotten through to Mario, just a bit. The gangster would at least be thinking now about making enemies with one of the most powerful men in New Orleans...a man that could very well destroy him and everything he’d worked to build.

  Maddox made it as far as his bike when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that it was a text from Carmella. He opened it up and he had to read it twice before what it said actually sunk in. It was an address in Baton Rouge and underneath the address it said, “Frankie’s mother owns this house and when shit happens and one of the guys needs to lay low, this is where Dad sends them.”

  In a mild state of shock, Maddox texted back, “Where are you?” He was looking around the large yard, and checking out the windows of the house, but there was no sign of her.

  “Never mind. I’ll see you tonight. But be careful...Frankie’s an idiot, but he’s a violent fucking idiot.”

  With a warm feeling in his veins and a tickle of excitement in his belly, he texted back, “Thank you.”

&nb
sp; A smile emoji was texted back and she said, “You can thank me tonight.” Then again she said, “Be safe, big guy.”

  Maddox wasn’t sure about involving Blackheart. He was typically probably a hell of an ally to have, but in this case Maddox was afraid it would be like taking a loose cannon in with him. Still, as much as he preferred to work alone, he was intelligent enough to know that sometimes having backup was an absolute necessity. So, as soon as he left Mario’s he headed for the Jokers’ clubhouse, and like he knew he would be, Blackheart was immediately ready to saddle up and head to Baton Rouge. It took him less than an hour to gather almost a dozen men to go with them as well, so no matter what they found when they got there, Maddox was at least sure they wouldn’t be outgunned.

  The hour-and-fifteen-minute ride to Baton Rouge was done in about forty-five minutes, and it took them another fifteen minutes to gather and formulate a plan. The bikes would be left about a mile away; no need announcing their arrival until they were on the doorstep, just in case. Blackheart left one of his prospects with the bikes and the rest of the men followed him and Maddox to the corner of the street where the house was located. Someone had to get close enough to do reconnaissance, and Blackheart assigned that task to himself. The men waited, spreading out enough so that they weren’t sticking out like sore thumbs in the quiet, older neighborhood. Maddox was anxious as they waited, fearful that Blackheart wouldn’t wait for his backup if there was any sign that his sister was in the house. But thankfully, proving he was as smart as everyone said he was, the MC president was back within twenty minutes with a report, and a plan.

  “There are two guys in the house that I can see. One of them was in the living room, with his fat ass parked in front of the TV, and the other one in the kitchen making himself a sandwich. The windows to the rooms on the west side are boarded up. There are two windows on the east side; one is a tiny bathroom and the other looks to be a bedroom but the blinds are pulled tight so I can’t see inside. There’s a basement. The entry to it is padlocked. The gate to the backyard is locked up tight and the property shares a fence all the way around with neighbors. As soon as one of us is spotted going over a fence, this neighborhood will be full of cops. I want some time with these guys, especially if Brigette and Louis aren’t here. So here’s what we’re gonna do.

  “Chance and Gabe, you’ll go first. I want you covering the back. When we go in, I’m hoping for a simple extraction if Brigette and Louis are there, but if these guys are stupid enough to try and get out the back, take them out.” Maddox tried to keep an eyebrow from going up. They were in a middle-class neighborhood, surrounded by beautiful old homes that were likely filled with people. Yet Blackheart didn’t hesitate to order his men to “take someone out” in broad daylight. Maddox was torn between being impressed and appalled. Chance and Gabe were already on the move as Blackheart went on, “Le Singe, take one of the prospects and cover the basement entrance on the east side of the house.” Those two men left and Blackheart looked at the rest of them and said, “We’re going in the front. Follow my lead.” His blue eyes paused on Maddox’s face for several seconds. Finally, giving in because at that point he had no real choice, Maddox nodded. Blackheart nodded too and said, “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “How fucking long is Frankie going to be gone?” Sammi Two-Fingers came back into the living room with his sandwich. Vincent was watching 90-Day Fiancé on the television and barely looked up at Sammi as he said:

  “What the fuck difference does it make? This is a cake job.”

  “For you,” Sammi said. “You sit on your ass and watch television all day. I have to go down and feed them, and that little red-haired chick is fucking feral, I’m telling you. My arms haven’t healed from the last time she got a hold of me.”

  Vincent laughed. “Shameful, getting your ass kicked by a girl.”

  “Shut up. You fucking know if Mario hadn’t absolutely said not to hurt this little bitch I’d ’a tore her to pieces with my bare fucking hands by now.” He took a bite of his sandwich and waited for Vincent to reply. When he didn’t, Sammi let out a loud sigh, as obnoxiously loud as he could, before turning and storming back into the kitchen. He stood up against the counter and finished his own sandwich, and then with another sigh that no one was around to hear, he picked up the bag that he’d put the other two sandwiches in, along with two bottles of water, and grabbed the keys for the basement door off the key ring hanging on the wall. Still grumbling under his breath, he stuck the key into the lock and turned it. It was at that exact moment that he heard a loud crash and sudden chaos breaking loose in the living room.

  He pulled open the basement door and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him and locking it from the inside. He flipped on the light switch and took the steps two at a time, jumping off the third one from the bottom and landing on both feet. He tossed the sandwiches aside...lunch had been canceled...and ran over to where another set of shorter stairs led up to the outside escape hatch. He’d already made it up to the sixth and final step before he remembered the hatch was locked from the outside. He was fucking trapped. His eyes searched the room then and landed on one of the two pairs of eyes that were watching him. Those eyes were pretty, surrounded by long, light brown lashes...and for the first time since he met the red-haired devil, they were sparkling with excitement. The cavalry had arrived, and she knew it...now he really wished he’d fucked her when they’d been alone, even if it would have pissed Mario off. At least he would now be ready to die, knowing that he’d finally fucked a high-class bitch who thought she was too good for him, just because he was ugly. It wasn’t his fault his old man had passed on his gigantic nose and too full lips, or that his mother had beady little brown eyes that sat on either side of her long, straight, Roman-type nose. Fuck...He knew the jig was up, and for half a second he considered just giving up and going back up to the door that was now being banged on, and hand himself over. But that thought was gone as quickly as it arose. He was a survivor, and even if it meant his death in the end, he was going to fight for his life.

  14

  Blackheart walked up to the front door of the house. Maddox was behind him. He saw the curtain move almost simultaneously with the sound of Blackheart’s steel-toed boot splitting the wood of the door. Once it was loose on its hinges, Blackheart turned sideways and took the rest of the door down, tumbling into the room, gun drawn, with Maddox and at least six other armed men behind him. The man in the room was armed as well, but the second he had half a dozen guns drawn on him, he dropped his weapon and started begging them not to kill him.

  “Where is she?” Blackheart said. The man, a heavy-set Italian in a white t-shirt and jeans, and no shoes, tried to pull off a confused look.

  “Where is who?” he stupidly asked. In a matter of half a second, Blackheart’s .357 Magnum was pressed against the side of his head and the club president’s free hand was fisted in the man’s thick, black, curly hair.

  “You want me to have to ask again?” Blackheart said. His tone was low, even, as scary as fuck. Maddox was sure if it were him, he wouldn’t hold back, and the man turned out to not be quite as stupid as he looked either.

  “She’s in the basement. We didn’t hurt her...” He was thrown to the floor and while Blackheart headed for the kitchen and Maddox and several other men followed him, Le Pirate, one of Blackheart’s executives, a big, grizzly-looking guy with an eyepatch, stood over the Italian with his gun pointed directly at his face, and Maddox heard him telling two of the younger guys to clear the bedrooms.

  Once in the kitchen, all of the men started pulling open closets and cabinets in the surprisingly large room, and it was Maddox who stumbled on the door to the basement first. It was pitch black, but there was a light switch to his right so he hit it and with his gun out in front of him and Blackheart at his back, he began descending the stairs. They could hear sounds down below but it was hard to decipher what they were, exactly. As soon as their boots hit the floor Blackheart called out
for his sister,

  “Brigette?” They stepped around a corner and could see that the room was long and narrow. There was a couch along one wall and on the other side was a toilet, just there out in the open. The place was filthy, and it stunk...but none of that was what Blackheart’s blue eyes were on. What the club president had focused on the second they rounded that curve was another set of stairs. Maddox presumed those stairs led up to the outside, but that wasn’t even what was interesting. It was the man who stood just behind those stairs with a gun in one hand, and a pretty little red-headed woman wrapped up in one, huge arm. The girl’s hair was dirty and hung down across her eyes. A large piece of silver duct tape covered her mouth and by the way her body hung limp in the man’s arm, it was impossible to tell from where they stood whether or not she was awake...or even breathing. On the floor behind the two of them lay a man. He was on his side, facing toward them, and he looked unconscious. He was dressed in a filthy white shirt that looked saturated with old blood, and a pair of black pants covered with dust. His hair was white and he had a large, thick mustache. Maddox was sure it was Louis the butcher...but what he wasn’t sure of was whether or not the man was dead or alive.

  “Y’all are all gonna back off,” the Italian man with the gun said, “and I’m leaving through this storm door. Once I’m outside, alone...I’ll drop the girl.”

  Maddox heard the hammer on the gun in Blackheart’s hands click as he pulled it back and at the same time, the man’s beefy arm tightened on the girl and he pulled her up higher, so she was in front of his face. When he did that, the hair fell out of her eyes, and she opened them. Eyes as blue as Blackheart’s own were looking at her brother, and Maddox, even though he’d never met the girl face to face, could read the terror in them. He thought about Lizzie again, and what the last moments of her life must have been like. He started asking the questions that had nearly driven him mad just after it happened. Had she seen the car coming at them? Did she know she was going to die? Worse yet, did she know the little boy who had been literally the center of her universe would die as well? In his mind’s eye he still saw his Lizzie, blinding lights coming straight at her, knowing there was nothing she could do, and that her life, and her baby’s life were over...and then he pictured his son’s face, and that was when he pulled the trigger and watched the top of the man’s head, right behind the sad, pretty face of the beautiful woman who looked so much like his Lizzie...explode.

 

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