Body of Trust: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Jeannine Colette

  I rub the back of my neck in disbelief. “You called the police?”

  He twists his mouth. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one with connections.”

  The mob and the police feeding into each other is worse than I thought. Salinger must have just been the tipping point.

  Frank laughs. “I can only imagine what those townie police thought when they walked in there.” His eyes bug out, and his hands are up in the air. “Jackpot!”

  My knee shakes as I try to decode what he knows about me. More importantly, what he’s going to try to do to me.

  “What about Salinger?”

  “The Fed?” He makes a long face. “If it were up to me, we would have done away with him, but we have other things we’d like to do with him first.”

  “Like what?”

  He leans forward and sets his elbows on the table, his palms touching like a tent. “That depends on you.”

  I sit back and widen my legs, not liking where this is going, but knowing I need to listen. “How so?”

  Frank purses his lips and taps his fingertips against one another. “You’ve got balls, kid. First, you come into my club and pose as a friend, only to get dirt on our family. I should have you dragged out of here and sink your body into the Lower New York Bay!” he yells, seething out the words. “I trusted you. Brought you into my business and gave you responsibility. My guys out there have waited years for that kind of privilege, and what do you do? You cocksucking prick of a cop, you come in here and try to put me in prison.”

  His face is red as he points at my face with every curse. His sneer shows pure disgust, and for the first time since I walked in here, I’m absolutely convinced he’s going to shoot me.

  He looks away and seems to be trying to calm himself down. He runs a palm over his thick black hair and adjusts his tie. As his face coloring comes back to normal, so does his demeanor.

  “But”—he widens his hands out, as if to clear the air—“we’re all men with two sides, and it has been brought to my attention that your merits should be considered.”

  I keep my breathing even as I wait for him to verbally declare my fate.

  “I understand our Amelia owes you a great deal of debt.”

  I finally speak up, “No, sir. I owe her my life. She took a bullet for me today.”

  He nods in agreement. “You don’t look so hot.”

  “The Lugazzis weren’t kind with their fists, or their bats, if that’s what you’re referring to. None of that matters. I’d die for her.” My answer doesn’t seem to surprise him.

  He smiles. “As I said, you have balls, kid. Raphael knew Amelia was in trouble, but he didn’t know it was with this lotto nonsense. That was a stupid fucking plan, if you ask me. Raphael, Carlo, and I… were bottles deep in Stoli when we hatched that fugazi idea up five years ago. But Carlo wanted it, and he dragged our Amelia in. We didn’t know, but you did. Going to Enzo put your life on the line for her safety. You know that.”

  “I do.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I love her,” I answer easily and directly.

  He’s quiet in his contemplation. “You see, that’s where things get complicated. I want to teach you a lesson, but your honor for Amelia and the life of her family make this difficult. We have your boss, Salinger. We’re holding on to him until we get your answer. You see, we can get rid of him, and no one will be the wiser. The incident with the lotto never happened, and we can all walk away from this clean.”

  His proposition is a considerable one. To pretend none of this transpired, that Amelia didn’t break the law at the hands of criminals, everything could just disappear. I’d love that. For myself and for her. Her record would be clean, and I wouldn’t have to fess up to my part in this plan. I could keep my information about how all of this originally started—over bid rigging—and Evangelista and Sorrentino will avoid prison. Lugazzi is already in jail.

  It’s a plan that could set us all free.

  “I can’t do that,” I state to Frank’s dismay. “I took an oath to honor and serve. I can’t hide the crimes I saw committed.”

  “I was hoping you’d see one criminal going away for life as a good enough trade-off. Lugazzi won’t see the light outside a cell for the rest of his life.”

  “Nothing makes me happier, sir, but this is more than that. This is honor. I wouldn’t be the man I am if I didn’t keep my word.”

  His chin rises in agreement. He might not like me, and he might still want to have me killed, but at least he respects me.

  I continue, “I have to give my statement on Salinger’s involvement. Amelia will be implicated, but I’ll do everything in my power to ensure her name is cleared of any charges. She was the pawn. Unfortunately, I will have to implicate why this all started. The contract bidding will come up. The crimes I was here to investigate will be brought forth. You won’t be charged for the drugs because you backed out, but I was informed you are planning on moving product for the Sicilians. I can’t turn my back on that.”

  “You act like you know anything about this city. Cocaine is everywhere. It’s in the parks outside of schools and laced with shit you wouldn’t believe. Italians don’t do that. Evangelista’s don’t believe in lacing quality cocaine with cheap heroine. We don’t send it into the schools, and we most definitely would never make it as cheap as candy. You may not see it as clearly, but we have a code. Cocaine is a high class drug, and we only sell it to the ones we know can handle it.

  “It destroys lives no matter how expensive you make it.”

  “If we don’t move it someone else will. And that person will bring it to kids and addicts.”

  “If you move it, you will be caught.”

  “I’m not going to jail for your virtue!” Frank states emphatically, and I’m about to speak when another man enters a room.

  “I will,” Raphael Sorrentino says from the doorway.

  He’s wearing a tracksuit and standing with the use of a cane. I had no idea he was out of the hospital, yet here he is.

  I rise and give him my chair. He pushes me away, adamant he stand.

  “Raph, you’re supposed to be in bed,” Frank says to his business partner.

  Raphael ignores his concern. “I heard you were going to make a deal. I had to hear it all for myself.” He looks me up and down and then holds his head high with a stoic face. “Amelia says she owes you her life, and therefore, so do I.”

  Frank stands up. “Raph, you will implicate the family—”

  “She came to me in the hospital, frightened. I couldn’t help her. You could,” Raphael speaks to me, ignoring Frank. “You saved her life three times, and now, you’re owed a debt. I can take the hit on all charges regarding the sanitation business.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I square my shoulders, giving him the attention his offer deserves. “I can get you a deal for your cooperation. It’s going to take a lot of work on your end and a damn good attorney, but I will ensure that you’re taken care of with a fair process and protected on the inside.”

  “I’d appreciate that, son.”

  “A good woman once told me that family is everything. Now, I know where she gets it from.”

  He softens at the mention of Amelia. “You know, if I go away for this, I’m going to need someone to take care of my daughter.”

  My chest tightens at the mention of a future with his daughter. My fate with Amelia hasn’t been resolved. I want to keep her, but the unknowns of tomorrow leave it almost impossible.

  “Wait. I don’t need no cop breathing down my neck about the Sicilians.” Frank holds up his hands, unwilling to accept this deal.

  “I strongly suggest you reconsider it. I know your friends across the pond won’t be happy to know Lugazzi ratted your plan out to the Feds. My words before were a warning. Let your partners know they’re in jeopardy and back out of the deal. That’s all the warning I can give,” I state, hoping Frank will be happy to blame Lugazzi if he needs
an out with the Italians. “And you won’t need to worry about me. When this is over, I’ll be reassigned.”

  Raphael places both hands on his cane and looks at me quizzically. “You’re leaving? What about Amelia?”

  “I took an oath.”

  “As did I and here I am turning my back on the family to do what’s right,” Raphael explains. “Let me ask you a question. You like what you do? Pretending to be something you’re not?”

  Yes, I want to answer, but something stops me. I’ll always love being in law enforcement, but there’s been a change in me. It was the day I told Amelia who I was. Who I really was. The son of a geography teacher and bank teller. A brother and grandson. A man who steals things from his family to keep them close because he misses them like crazy. A guy who enjoys fighting and bourbon and who had his first kiss in a game of Spin the Bottle.

  “I used to.”

  Frank senses my apprehension. “Something’s changed then.”

  It has.

  And her name is Amelia Grace Sorrentino.

  Raphael just nods. “Maybe I will be able to depend on you after all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Amelia

  If I thought my mother was overprotective after I was caught in the crossfire at Villa Russo, it’s nothing compared to coming home with a gunshot wound.

  The doctor was at the house when I walked through the door, and my mother turned the kitchen into a triage for my injury. My temperature was taken, the bullet was removed, and a tetanus shot was given, all while she paced and cried over the porcelain tiles.

  Thankfully, Gia held my hand the entire time, even letting me squeeze it as the doctor scraped my skin. I was exhausted by the time he left.

  But I couldn’t sleep just yet.

  I sat down with the two of them and told them the entire story. Even Gia. If I’ve learned anything from this ordeal, it’s that informing her is protecting her. She surprised us all with the maturity in which she took the story. The whole story.

  My father didn’t say much, which is understandable. It’s a lot to take in. What did surprise me was his silence. He walked into his office, leaving the three of us alone in the living room. I went to my room and passed out for five hours.

  When I woke, my father was gone, and Mom was abuzz with instructions on how to clean my wound, making sure I took my antibiotics, and her general nervousness about what would happen next.

  As I got dressed this morning, I knew I needed to be home.

  More importantly, I need Jesse.

  I hate that we don’t talk on the phone. Before, I knew we shouldn’t because we were being watched. Now, I’m not sure how it might complicate things. All I wish is that we were just a normal couple. No secret meetings or life-altering events.

  As I look back on our time together, one of my favorite moments is cuddling with him on the couch, watching television. It was simple, boring, and what I wish we could do for the rest of our lives.

  I have big plans for him and me—places to travel and food to cook. I want to go to those fights he loves, and the next day, I want to bore him to death at a museum. We’ll go to work during the day and cook dinner together in the evening. It’s a simple dream. One I know he wants too. I could feel it in the way he held me.

  I just don’t know if it’s possible. At the end of the day, he’s an undercover agent. He’ll be gone for months, perhaps years at a time. I can’t live like that, waiting for him to come home without knowing if he’s alive or dead.

  I’m not that strong.

  I drive back to my apartment and let myself in. It looks the same as when I left. The white sheet is still on my bed from when I ran out of here in a rush. There’s still coffee in the pot.

  I clean the house and then take a shower, careful not to soak my wound. In my comfiest pajamas, I lie down on my couch and stare at my phone, willing it to ring. When it doesn’t, I get up to open my refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, drinking and walking to the window.

  My heart races at the sight of a familiar white car in the parking lot. I drop the bottle and race to the front door. I open it just in time to see the handsome face of the bravest man I’ve ever met standing on the other side.

  “You’re here,” I state, excited and relieved.

  “I was surprised when I found out you were coming home. I thought they’d tell me you were with your mother.”

  “I couldn’t stay at my parents’ house any longer. They were smothering me.”

  He grins. “Sounds like they love you.”

  I roll my eyes and pull him in. Once inside, I throw my arms around him and lock my lips with his. “I was so worried about you. Where did you go? I waited for you to show up at my parents’, but you never did.”

  “I had a lot to take care of,” he speaks against my lips, walking us into the living room and down to the couch.

  We’re in a seated position as he takes my hands and lowers them from his neck. “We need to talk.”

  A sagging feeling overcomes my chest. Telling someone you’re dating that you have to talk is never a good sign. I look at him warily.

  His blue eyes, those turquoise gems that mesmerize my soul, hold steady as he speaks, “I was able to get ahold of the northeast bureau today and give the government my story.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “It is, and it isn’t.” He swallows, and I wait for him to speak. “Do you remember when I told you that this could get messy?”

  “Yes,” I answer slowly.

  “I made a deal with your father. I can’t talk about the details yet, but what you need to know is that he is going to be okay and that this was his decision.”

  “Okay …” Again, my answer is stretched out and slow. “What does that mean? Remember, no more secrets.”

  “This time, you’re going to have to trust me because you still need to give your statement.”

  An internal panic ensues. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’ve never lied, especially to the cops. If they were to give me a lie detector test, I’d fail before they hooked me up to the machine.

  I rub my head and then move my hands up and down my thighs. Jesse takes my hands in his and smiles.

  “Breathe, Amelia. It’s okay. You’re going to tell them everything.”

  “Everything?” I don’t understand.

  “Your father is going to tell you the same. When you give your statement, you can tell them what you know, including what I told you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive, baby. We’re gonna be free.”

  My hands fly to my mouth as tears build inside my eyes. “Free! You mean it?”

  “That depends. When this is over, I’m going to be reassigned. If I asked you to go with me, would you?”

  My hands fall to my lap, as does my jaw.

  As I look at him, I see he’s completely serious.

  I shake my head and try to get my thoughts together.

  Leave with Jesse to follow him into an undercover world. I didn’t even know that was possible. I’m not in the FBI, so would I need to go undercover as well? Or would I just sign a nondisclosure? Am I supposed to play along with his characters and infiltrate the worlds he does as well? It’s so confusing and sudden and not a life I ever thought I’d live. But still …

  I’m considering it.

  If there’s one thing I know for certain it’s that I love Jesse Davenport. Living without him is out of the question. I might hate the life he’s promising, but I’d be a fool not to give it a shot. If I said no, I’d wonder for the rest of my days if I allowed the best man I’d ever known to walk out of my life.

  Trust and honor are high on my list of what makes a great man. Jesse is that great man.

  “Yes,” I answer with a surprised smile.

  The gorgeous smile that radiates from his face is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Good to know.”

  I run my hands through my hair and shake out my jitters. I ca
n’t believe I just agreed to this! “Okay, where are we going? When do you get assigned? And what do I have to do? I’m a horrible actress, but as we learned, I can totally defend myself, so I’m ahead of the curve. I think. Could there possibly be a way for me to keep a job in accounting? I don’t know if—”

  He shuts me up with a kiss. And it’s a damn good kiss. His hands are in my hair and on my face as his tongue glides against mine while he dips me down into the couch and settles on top of me.

  I spread my legs and wrap them around him, digging my heels into his ass, pulling him closer.

  “Nowhere,” he says as he pulls back from our kiss and stares down at me lovingly.

  My brows furrow. “Explain.”

  He slides his T-shirt off, wincing with the motion.

  “Oh my God! Your rib. I forgot you broke it!” I cry out, making him sit up.

  He does so, gripping his side as he takes a seat. “Turns out it was two actually.”

  “Jesse! You know, if you think I’m spending my life with you in this undercover nonsense, you’re gonna have to take better care of yourself. The point is that I want to live with you. Forever.”

  That steely gaze softens into something romantic and sweet as he grips my waist and pulls me into his lap. He brushes the hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

  “I love you, Amelia.”

  I sigh. “I love you too, Jesse.” I tenderly brush my lips against his.

  “I know. That’s why I’m asking for a relocation into another department. I don’t want to go undercover anymore.”

  “No. You love it. It’s your passion. You can’t quit.”

  “I can. For you. I want a life with you. One where we can get married and have kids and movie nights on Fridays and little tykes playing flag football. I want it all.” He takes my hand in his and places it over his heart. “Like you said, forever.”

  Those tears that were building behind my eyes are now falling like rapids down my cheeks. “You crazy man. Why the hell would you ask me to go with you if you were planning on quitting?”