“Seriously, Tommy. Be careful. And please take care of Gio. I know what he did was wrong, so freaking wrong, but he’s my brother. He has nobody to protect him. And Juan…” her voice trails off and she shakes her head, her lip quivering. “My mom can’t lose anyone else, okay?”
“I’ve got him, babe. Don’t worry.” I kiss her hard on the mouth. “I love you so much. I promise this is only the beginning for us, Gemma. We’re just getting started.”
“Truth?” she asks with a little sniffle.
“Truth,” I say. “We have forever, babe.”
“Holy fuck!” Cristian’s voice startles me just as I’m going in for one more last kiss and I pull away, my brow furrowed.
“C? What’s wrong?” I run toward his voice and feel a draft sweep in from the back entrance. I pick up the pace, breaking into a jog when he doesn’t respond.
And then I stop short right outside the doorway.
Because if I go any farther, I’ll end up tripping over Roro’s very bloody, very beaten, and very much dead body.
“No!”
The roar erupts from my lungs and I pound my fist into the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the sheetrock.
“Not exactly the kind of tone you want to set for an exclusive restaurant opening,” Ant mumbles next to me. “I sure as hell hope you’re the one who came up with the menu for tonight, Tommy.”
I collapse against the wall and cover my face with my hands. “Lock everything down,” I grunt to Vince who just ran over. “Take everyone to the basement. Keep them out of sight. There’s a hidden exit down there.” I look up at the guys huddled around me. “That sonofabitch has just sent his last fucking message. And now I wanna go and give him my reply in person.”
“He was a good guy, Yo-Yo,” Ant says as we peel away from the curb in his Range Rover. “He made the best shrimp scampi I’ve ever had.”
“I’m gonna let that go because I’m grieving right now,” I mutter, staring at the map on my phone. I scroll through my text messages for the one from Vince. I need more than just an address. I need to know what the hell we’re walking into and how many of his thugs are gonna greet us when we storm that warehouse.
“Did you get anything from Villani? He’s the one who got us the address, right?” Alek asks.
“Yeah,” I say, letting out a sigh. “I can’t believe Roro’s gone. He was a good guy. Solid. Never did drugs. Never fucked any of my hostesses. He was the best cook I’ve ever worked with.” I slump against the leather seat. “He was my friend.”
“Did he have any family?” Diego asks.
I shake my head. “Nah. He was on his own. A loner. No wife. No kids. Makes me feel bad that he didn’t have a family.” I grit my teeth. “Makes me feel worse that he was targeted because of me.”
“You know Juan is a rat fuck. He’d slit his own mother’s throat to send the right message,” Ant says.
“Well, his is the only throat I wanna slit right now.” I rub my temples as Ant drives the rest of the way in silence. We don’t need a strategy. We don’t need a plan. We just need Juan’s head on a spit.
Hence, the slicer.
The outskirts of Palermo are pretty crappy. You don’t wander out here unless you’re armed and dangerous.
Luckily, we’re both.
Ant parks down a darkened alley way and we quickly and quietly grab the AK-47s from the trunk. My slicer is hanging off the back of my belt under my coat.
No fucking way do I go in without it.
“So, the usual?” Alek asks.
“Always,” I say, my eyes falling on a lighter in the console. I don’t know why, but I grab it and stuff it in my pocket. “Let’s go.”
We creep toward a back door almost covered by overgrown weeds and vines crawling over the cracked concrete walls of the building.
“Why aren’t there guys out here?” I mutter, leading the way as we tiptoe along the pebbled ground.
“Are you anxious to get the fucking party started or something, Tommy?” Diego grunts, his fingers closed around the handle of his gun.
Crack! Pop! Bang!
“Shit!” Alek yelps, throwing me and Ant to the ground behind a bush a few feet away from the heavy metal door. Diego manages to escape the shots and plasters himself against a wall next to a cracked window that we somehow all missed. He crouches low to the ground and inches toward the door. I grip my gun, pointing it straight out of the branches and pop off a few shots, giving Diego the distraction he needs to slip inside.
“We’ve gotta get in there,” Ant whispers.
I nod. “I’m going after D. Cover me, okay?”
“I bet you’re wishing you had that Kevlar in your trunk right now, huh?” Alek lifts an eyebrow at me.
“I bet you have yours on.”
“Never leave home without it. Got too much to protect now,” he says, nodding at me. “But I’ve got you.”
I clap him on the back. “I know, you sick fuck. But this time you don’t have a fork, so make do with the gun, okay?”
He grins and sticks out his hand. “Go. Now!”
I run for the door, shielding my head with my arms.
Why, I have no fucking idea.
It’s not like I can shield my body from a bullet with my arms, as big as they are, but I do it anyway. And thank God, I make it through the door with my head still on my shoulders, which is more than I can say for Salazar when I get my hands on him. More gunshots ring out into the air and I know this is it.
The standoff.
The answer to his fucking message.
And the end to his goddamn reign.
Diego grabs me and pulls me into a corner, nodding at two bodies a few feet away. “I popped those assholes who shot at us through the window.”
“Okay, let’s move. You know there’ll be more. We need to find Juan.” I grit my teeth. “And Gio.”
“Listen, Tommy. I know he’s Gemma’s brother,” Diego says, a grave expression on his face. “But I’m not getting shot up for that dipshit. He’s all yours, but don’t expect us to put our asses on the line for him.”
I square my shoulders. “If everything goes right, we won’t have to make those choices.”
Alek and Ant barrel into the doorway right behind us. It’s dark, damp, and smells like shit in here. All the more reason to get the hell out fast.
“We need to split up,” I murmur. “I’ll go with D.” I nod to Alek and Ant. “You guys stay together, okay? Yell when you find Juan.”
Diego and I creep down a corridor. Marijuana smoke clouds the air as we navigate our way through this maze. The clouds thicken as we get deeper into this rat trap, and I can only hope we remember our fucking way out.
I take a few calming breaths as we walk, my mind back at the restaurant and Roro.
There wasn’t even time to cover him over, for fuck’s sake.
“Where is everyone?” I hiss as we keep going. There are no people, just empty bottles of tequila and smashed cigarettes littering the floor.
“I don’t know, Tommy. Are we sure we can trust Villani? I mean—”
Pop! Crack!
We dive to the floor, guns pointed in opposite directions, ready to shoot.
But nothing follows.
No threats.
No shots.
Nothing.
With a throbbing pulse, I roll to my feet. Someone is close. I can hear heavy breathing, and the smell of stale liquor makes bile rise in my throat.
I always know when Salazar is close because his cologne overpowers the smell of everything surrounding him.
But it’s not Salazar waiting for us.
It’s someone else.
“Cover me,” I grunt to Diego from his spot on the floor.
I dart forward toward a sliver of light — the only one I can make out from my position. It’s coming from around a corner, but it’s too late to be cautious. Whoever it is knows we’re here and he’s probably not alone.
I see a large beefy body peek out from
the corner, gun poised and ready to shoot. I drop down, clearing a path for Diego to take the shot as the guy comes at me.
Bang! Crack!
The guy stumbles backward, collapsing against the concrete wall with a loud thud before he slides to the ground like a bag of cement, two bloodstains spreading across his chest.
I grab the sides of his shirt. “Where’s Salazar?”
The fat bastard has the nerve to chuckle as the blood oozes from the corners of his mouth. “Fuck you,” he mumbles. “If you were smart, you would’ve just stayed...” Then his whole body shudders as he goes into a coughing fit, his lungs filling with blood. I watch him choke to death, my jaw on the floor with him. I turn toward Diego.
“He was gonna tell me something.” I look around and strain my ears to hear anything. But it’s silent. Deadly so.
“Guys,” Alek says, jogging from the other direction. “Salazar isn’t here. We can’t find anybody. We’ve gotta get the fuck out of here. This is a trap!”
I rake a hand through my hair. “Vince trusts Villani. He and my father grew up together. He wouldn’t put us in harm’s way. Why would he give us this address if he knew Juan was gone?”
“Maybe we just missed him,” Ant says. He grabs my arm. “We need to leave. Now!”
‘Wait.” I swallow hard. “Gio might be here. If Juan is operating out of this place, he’d have brought Gio here. He told Gemma he was gonna kill him. The plan was always to kill him…and me.” I shake my head. “I need to find him. If he’s here and alive—”
“If Juan is gone, Gio is too, Tommy,” Diego hisses. “Don’t be stupid! We need to get back to the restaurant! Vince and Cristian are alone with the family.”
“Okay, okay. Look, you guys get to the car. I’ll be right behind you. Just give me a minute to make sure. I have to. For Gemma.” Tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
Diego hesitates for the slightest second before nodding his head. He looks at Ant and Alek. “Go get the car. We’re going after Gio.”
“You’re fucking crazy!” Ant says in a loud whisper. “Come on, Tommy! Enough of the bullshit. The guy was probably gutted like a fish and chopped into a million pieces by now! This is suicide!”
“Not if we’re the only ones left.” I tear down the hallway, waving at the others to get out of the warehouse.
I know this is stupid, probably one of the more idiotic things I’ve ever done in my life.
But even though the guy fucked me over plenty, I have to do this for Gemma.
I can’t go back and lie to her that I couldn’t find him, or worse, that I was too late.
She’s lost so much already, I won’t add losing her brother to that list if his dumbass is still in here.
Diego’s sneakers pound the uneven concrete behind me and the scent of marijuana wafts under my nose for the second time.
“We’re not alone,” he grumbles.
I look at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t there with you in Monaco.”
“I wasn’t there with you in Rome,” he says, a smirk lifting his lips.
“But we do our best work here in Palermo,” I say.
“Yep,” he murmurs, his gun out in front of him. “Let’s make it epic, bro.”
“I’m good with epic, but I’d be better with fast.” I nod toward the streams of smoke. “Come on.”
We creep along the walls, hiding in the shadows with our hands outstretched. Tiny sweat beads pebble my skin as we get closer, my eyes focused on what seems to be the only source of light in the place. Something heavy rushes across the tops of my sneakers and I jump back, letting out a loud yelp.
Diego claps a hand over my mouth. “Jesus Christ! It’s a fucking rat, Tommy!”
“It startled me, okay?”
Click.
“Me too.”
Fuck.
A strong hand yanks me by my shirt collar and slams me against the wall. “You’re the asshole who killed Carlos.” He cocks a gun and points it at my temple.
“Carlos stole from me,” I say.
“So you thought you could just pop him? And that Juan would let that go?” He grins at me and he’s missing a handful of teeth, the other rotting like they hadn’t seen the inside of a dentist’s office in…well, forever. “You dumb guinea. Maybe your, ah, brain got a little poached.” He snickers. “You know, ’cause you’re a cook, right?”
“A chef,” I growl. “And I punish people who steal from me and from people I love.”
“Well, looks like the shoe is on the other foot in the glass house.” He lets out a dry chuckle and I have to wonder if his brain might be the one that was poached. Or sautéed. Or just plain roasted.
Another guy appears behind Diego with a gun pointed at him, and the guy shoves both of us into the lit room and grabs our guns.
“So much for epic,” he mutters.
Goddamn rat.
They push us into the room and my jaw drops when I see what’s chained to the wall in the back corner.
Gio.
He’s hanging over like he’s been crucified, bloody lashes across the front of his body. His skin is sweaty, dirty, and bruised, his eyes nearly swollen shut.
But his chest is moving. Short, shallow breaths are flowing in and out of his lungs, but he’s not in good shape at all. We need to get him out of here.
All of us.
Alive.
“Tommy Marcone,” Goon Number Two snarls, pushing his face right into mine. “Juan will be disappointed he missed you. He was very interested in hearing your response to his last message. Any last words you wanna pass on to him before I put a bullet in your fucking skull?”
My eyes jet over to Gio once again and his open a crack. He nods toward a can of what looks to be gasoline. He staggers toward it, as far as the chains will allow him to go and he kicks it over so that it navigates a path toward a pile of crates. I can’t see inside of them, but I’m willing to bet it’s stolen dope.
What the hell is he trying to—?
And just then I remember the lighter I stuck in my jacket pocket.
I smirk at the thug. “I do have a few last words for Juan. Can you tell him Tommy Marcone says he needs to get himself a smarter crew next time because this one is about to be blown the fuck up!” I pull out the lighter, flick the button, and toss it into the stream of gasoline.
Juan’s guys follow the lighter as it ignites the crates and lights up the space.
I grab the slicer from my belt and jam it into the throat of Toothless just as Diego dives for his gun and pops three bullets into the other guy’s chest.
I don’t wait a single second before tearing across the room to Gio. With my slicer in hand, I cut through the chains and hoist him onto my back as the whole place goes up in flames.
“Tommy, move faster!” Diego shouts, pushing me to the exit. We run as fast as we can through the labyrinth of hell and drugs, the flames chasing us down every step of the way. The noxious fumes thicken, choking us with every step.
“We don’t have much time,” Diego gasps. “This place is gonna—”
I hoist Gio higher on my back and pick up speed, running for the metal exit door just as the explosion rockets through the building. The walls quake, cracking from the heat and pressure, and the floors shudder beneath our feet.
Diego runs ahead of me and shoves the door open as we burst outside into the fresh air, both of us gasping for oxygen like we’ve been trapped underwater for too long. We fall to the ground, me harder than Diego since I have Gio on my back.
The Range Rover speeds into the parking lot, and Ant and Alek jump out, running toward us.
“What the hell happened?” Ant yells.
Diego collapses onto the ground, coughing. “You missed it, guys,” he croaks. “It was epic.”
I grin at him. “In-fucking-deed.”
It takes a few minutes for us to clear our lungs of the toxic fumes, and in the meantime, Alek helps Gio into the backseat.
“Fuck, he’s
gonna bleed all over the leather,” Ant mumbles. “I hope you know you’re paying my cleaning bill, Tommy.”
“When you pay your food bill, how about that?” I shake my head. “I don’t know how he survived whatever the hell they did to him.”
“Hey, guys,” Alek says once Gio is in the backseat. “Where the hell is Salazar?”
A loud gargling sound comes from the back of the SUV, and we stagger over to find out what the hell Gio is trying to tell us. “Gio,” I say. “Did you hear where Juan was going?”
More gurgling. I grab a bottle of water from the center console and twist off the top so he can take a drink. He gulps it like he hasn’t drank a drop in days, which he probably hasn’t.
“He said…” Gio finally rasps, clutching his side. “He said he had dinner plans.”
“Where?” I croak, his plan finally coming together in my mind.
“Il Gioiello. The hottest place in town. The place that everyone will be watching.” Another coughing fit keeps Gio from giving us any more information, but I don’t need to hear any more.
He knew I’d show up at the warehouse to settle the score for Roro.
He knew I’d leave the restaurant.
He wanted me out of the picture.
He wanted her alone.
And I…I missed the red flags.
Again.
But this time, I won’t let him win.
I can’t.
I’ve already failed enough people, and Salazar has taken enough from all of us.
Now it’s his turn to burn.
Chapter Twenty
Gemma
I rub my hand up and down my arms, staring at Vince out of the corner of my eye. He’s speaking into his phone in a hushed voice while the rest of us stand around the women and kids.
Cristian, the brother whose name I figured out by process of elimination when Diego left with the others, has his arm snaked around his wife Tali’s waist.
“What’s the plan?” she murmurs to him.
He shrugs. “We’re just waiting right now. Tommy’ll call, and in the meantime, we stand down. Salazar can’t just storm the place. We’ll be safe here. Vince will make sure of that. He’s calling for backup now.”
Taken: A Dark Italian Mafia Romance (Men of Mayhem Book 3) Page 20