by A. M. Myers
“It’s going to be okay, Iz.”
Pulling back, I meet her eyes. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Um…” She glances up at Diego before looking back to me and shaking her head. “They’ll fill you in soon.”
“Everyone is waiting on us,” Diego says, pulling me along toward the war room and I follow behind him in a daze. My mind is spinning and it feels like it’s a million degrees in here as a band wraps around my chest and constricts.
Why the hell do I feel like I’m walking to my own execution right now?
And what the hell kind of game is Diego playing by not telling me what’s going on?
In the war room is the longest table I’ve ever seen in my life and enough chairs for the club’s seventeen members but most of them are empty. Logan sits at the far end, a ruler presiding over his domain, and on his left are Streak, Nix, Smith, Maverick, Tate, and Kodiak. If I thought everyone out in the main area looked somber, it’s nothing compared to the expressions staring back at me now. Their faces are a mixture of shock, fear, pity, and anger as they watch us walk around the room and settle into two chairs on Logan’s right. Diego keeps a firm grip on my hand, holding it in both of his as he looks over at Logan and nods.
“Someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask and they all exchange glances, nobody wanting to be the one to deliver the bad news and it pisses me off. If there is a guillotine hanging over my head, someone should have the decency to let me know, at least. Finally, Smith sighs and pulls out a folder, setting it on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know if Smoke told you but I’ve been tailing Gio for the past three days.”
My nod is curt as I study him. Diego filled me in on everything that happened when he went over to Luca’s apartment and as soon as Streak had a name for the second guy in the alley, he let me know that, too. In fact, he updates me every single day on what is going on, even if there has been no progress made so we don’t need to waste time going over shit I already know. Besides, I’m desperate to get to the damn point. Smith sighs, flipping open the folder and revealing a bunch of surveillance photos.
“We’ve been hoping he would lead us to whoever his boss is and tonight, he did that.”
“Okay,” I say, my gaze bouncing over all of them as my heart hammers against my ribs. I hate this. They all know exactly what is going on and instead of giving me the information I need all at once they’re drip feeding it to me like too much might kill me. “And do we know who it is?”
Logan nods. “We do.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, you guys are killing me!” I exclaim, ripping my hand from Diego’s and crossing my arms over my chest as I sink into my seat, glaring around the room. “Just tell me, goddamn it.”
“The man Luca and Gio work for is Dominic King,” Tate says, sparing Maverick, her twin brother, a look packed with emotion. “Our father.”
I frown, my head jerking back as I stare at the two of them and try to connect the pieces in my mind. Should I know who their father is? Am I supposed to be gasping at this revelation because now it all makes perfect sense?
“Izzy,” Logan says, his voice full of the concern of a friend and fear claws at my chest. I’m missing something here, I know I am but fuck, I need them to spell it out for me. Logan sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “Dominic King is…”
“A mob boss, for lack of a better word,” Streak supplies when Logan can’t force the words out and my eyes widen. “He runs a very large, very successful criminal enterprise.”
What?
I heard the words but my mind refuses to accept them. They don’t make sense to me because this is so insane, so far out of the realm of things I was imagining that I can’t wrap my mind around it. This is Baton Rouge, for fuck’s sake, not New York City - we have small time, low-life drug dealers but nothing on this level.
“Why have I never heard of him?”
Tate’s lip curls back in a snarl. “Because he’s not supposed to be here. He lives in Chicago or he did until nine months ago apparently.”
My mind is racing but my thoughts are frozen, iced over in shock so it just feels like I’m spinning out of control as I stare down at the table, trying so fucking hard to understand what this all means.
“I…uh,” I whisper, each breath ringing in my ears. My body tingles like every inch of me is going numb and I glance over at Diego for some fucking help. He grabs my hand again and rolls my chair closer to his. His proximity calms a small fraction of my rioting mind and I turn to Logan. “What does all of this mean?”
He grimaces. “I’m not going to lie to you, Iz… it’s bad. Dominic King is one of the most ruthless, vile men I’ve ever met in my life and you saw something you weren’t supposed to. Something that could mess with whatever he’s trying to build here.”
“But, he got rid of all the police reports, my statements at the hospital, and the nine-one-one call. I have no proof that anything happened that night.”
“You’re still an eyewitness, Darlin’,” Streak says, sympathy lacing every word that tumbles out of his mouth. The gravity of my predicament shines in his usually playful eyes and I pull my hand from Diego’s again, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.
“Why is he even here? Why not stay in Chicago?”
Maverick clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “We can only assume that he’s here because of Tate and me. We’ve never had a relationship with him but the last time we had a run-in with him, he made it clear that he wanted to build one.”
“Did you know he was here?” I accuse and Tate shakes her head, meeting my gaze dead-on. I’ve always liked Tate because she’s very much a take no shit kind of girl but I have never appreciated it more than I do now.
“No. Not until Smith showed us the photos.”
Why the hell would he come here to win over the hearts of his kids, only to not reach out to them over nine long months?
What the fuck is he waiting for?
“What do we do then?” I ask, scared to hear their answer but I need to know. Hiding from this isn’t going to make it go away. Logan sighs, shaking his head.
“Right now? We go home and get a good night’s sleep. We aren’t going to solve this tonight and we’re all fucking rattled. In the morning, we can talk again and try to come up with some kind of game plan.”
I don’t like it but he’s right. My mind still feels incredibly foggy and I wouldn’t be able to come up with a smart strategy right now to save my life. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what I need. Logan dismisses all of us but Diego and I remain in our chairs until everyone else has left the room.
“Tell me what you need, Mama,” he whispers and his voice pulls me in, provides me with a feeling of comfort that I need more than my next breath. Turning to him, I reach up and cup his cheek, craving the connection.
“I need you, Diego,” I tell him, an ache in my chest that steals the air from my lungs. “Take me home, please.”
He nods, grabbing my hand again as we stand. As he leads me out of the room, Ali and Carly try to make a beeline for me but he puts himself between us and they stop, glaring up at him as he shakes his head.
“What the hell are you doing, Diego?” Ali growls, arching a brow and crossing her arms over her chest as she challenges him.
“Look, I know you guys just want to make sure she’s okay but she’s not okay right now and this…” He gestures to everyone standing around, talking and sneaking glances at us. “Is all too much. I’m taking her home and you can come over in the morning to check on her.”
Ali grunts her disapproval but after a moment, she nods. “Fine, but I’ll be over to see her tomorrow and you’re not going to get in my way again.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answers and I can hear the grin in his voice but I’m too wrung out from everything that has happened today to do the same. God, it feels like a week ago that I took Diego to the park and spilled my guts about everything
but it’s only been hours. How in the hell is that possible? Everything has changed in such a short amount of time and just thinking about it is making me feel a little sick.
“You’re free to go then.” She peeks around him and meets my eyes. “Love you, girl.”
I nod. “Love you guys, too.”
“You may go,” she quips, glancing back at Diego with fire in her eyes. He scoffs and tells her that he’ll see her tomorrow before turning me toward the front door. Diego pulls me into his side and wraps his arm around my body, shielding me from the rest of the world as we walk out of the clubhouse to the truck. When we get to the passenger side, instead of opening my door for me, he stops and pulls me into his arms. The embrace is desperate and full of fear but somehow it still comforts me and I cling to him as he buries his nose in my hair and lets out a heavy sigh.
“Just need to hold you for a second, baby.”
I nod, tears stinging my eyes. “Me, too.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Izzy,” he swears, so much conviction in the sentence that I know, without a doubt, he’ll lay down his own life before he lets anything touch me. I wouldn’t be able to bear that though. In fact, I think dying would be preferable to losing him but I have no clue how to make him see that. Besides, all of this shit is my fault and I won’t let him sacrifice himself for me.
“You have to stay safe, too.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll do what I have to do to protect you.”
“God, Diego,” I seethe as soon as the words leave his mouth, ripping myself away from him. “You can’t do this to me.”
“Do what?”
“Get yourself killed.” I shake my head as I picture him lying on the ground the night Luca attacked us at the radio station, a tear falling down my cheek. Gritting my teeth, I swipe it away. “You can’t leave me.”
His eyes widen and he swallows the distance between us with one long stride, pulling me into his arms again as he searches my face. “Why, Izzy? Why can’t I leave you? Why can’t I get myself killed to rescue you and our baby?”
The thought of it, of having to walk through the rest of this life without him is too much to bear. I’ve spent years, broken and in pain, but none of it would compare to having to go on without this man. It would destroy me; he would destroy me just like I always knew he would. A sob bubbles out of me as I pound my fist into his chest.
“Because I fucking love you, you idiot.”
“Fuck,” he whispers and I look up at him. His brown eyes shine back at me as a smile creeps across his face. “Say that again, Mama.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Isabelle. Say it again. I need to hear it.” His command slams into me, nudging me to do as I’m told and I cross my arms over my chest as I look across the lot.
“I fucking love you, okay? Are you happy now?”
Tapping under my chin with his knuckles, he directs my gaze back to his as he grins at me. “Almost. I have one more, really important question. Are you all in with me? Are you truly mine?”
“Of course, I’m yours, Diego.” I roll my eyes. “I never stood a fucking chance against you, did I?”
He laughs. “No, you didn’t.”
I’m swept clean off my feet, metaphorically speaking, when he leans in and kisses me with everything he’s been holding back this whole time. It’s the single greatest kiss I’ve ever had and it eases some of my uncertainty. Admitting the truth, telling him that I am willing to try with him still scares the hell out of me but in light of everything that happened tonight, I’m a lot less scared of committing to him than I am of Dominic King. Besides, if I’m going to die at the hands of a madman, I might as well be as happy as I can be before I go.
Chapter Thirty
Isabelle
I am so incredibly happy that I can’t even stand myself.
It’s a weird thing to think, considering everything that has happened, but Diego and I have spent the last three weeks lost in the glow of a new relationship and preparing for the arrival of our boy so without any contact from Luca or Dominic, it’s easy to push thoughts of them to the back of my mind. Especially when Diego wraps me up and loves me harder than anyone else ever has, healing parts of me that I was sure would be damaged forever. Not that it has been easy. I’m still the same stubborn, difficult woman I’ve always been and love alone isn’t able to fix years of pain and abuse but by not fighting against the pull of us and letting him in, I’ve made the first step. And deep down, I feel different. My entire mindset has shifted over the past few weeks so even with Dominic King lurking in the shadows, I’m happy.
I don’t let myself completely forget about the danger hovering over me though. Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of it when we’re on the compound like this, safe behind its walls but the threat is still there, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The morning after the news was dropped in my lap, everyone who had been in the war room the night before showed up at Ali and Logan’s house so we could come up with a plan to get me out of this mess. We went back and forth for hours, some in favor of reaching out to law enforcement agencies for help while others argued that doing so wouldn’t actually protect me. In fact, it might get me killed faster. Others whole-heartedly believe Diego and I should make a run for it but it wouldn’t solve anything since Dominic would probably just follow me. Then, Diego and I would be stuck in an unfamiliar city with no one to reach out to when the monster did finally track us down.
Eventually, we came to the conclusion that the best course of action was to have Tate and Maverick reach out to Dominic, see if they could appeal to his fatherly nature and save my bacon. But after spending so many nights sitting up in bed and googling the man as Diego slept next to me, I’m not sure he has a good side. If the countless headlines I’ve read over the last thirteen days are any indication, the man is as evil as they come.
Family of Four Killed in House Fire.
Missing Child Suspected Dead.
Chicago Man Found Beaten and Tortured
Woman Killed in Acid Attack
Double Homicide at City Park
Man Skinned Alive
Each article mentioned the victim having ties to Dominic King and his criminal empire but, of course, there is never any proof. Or if there is, Dominic probably makes a phone call and gets it all erased just like the report from the night I was attacked, leaving him completely in the clear and free to torment more people. There were so many more stories that I didn’t even click on because I couldn’t stand to read any more about the ruthless killer coming after me. My mind had no trouble slotting me into the victims’ places when I finally did fall asleep each night and those images will haunt me forever. Somehow, during my research, I went down a rabbit hole and ended up on some kind of forum based in Chicago where people talked about Dominic like he’s Satan incarnate.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.
In fact, I’m terrified.
But after weeks of hiding out on the compound, I decided that Dominic King, no matter how closely he resembles the devil my very Catholic mother raised me to fear with every ounce of my soul, doesn’t get to control my life. He doesn’t get to have my fear or steal my happiness any more.
So, now we wait for him to respond to Tate and Maverick’s message. Maybe I should be discouraged that it’s taking him this long to get back to us but I’m more confident than ever that, somehow, we will find a way to deal with this. Then, Diego and I can truly look to the future.
Letting out a surprised laugh, I lean forward against the deck railing, supporting myself on my hands, and tip my head up, letting the rays of afternoon sunlight warm my skin as I close my eyes. How ridiculous is that? Just two months ago, I was running from this man and the things he made me feel with every ounce of strength I had and now… God, now I’m so excited about what is going to happen down the road. For the first time since I was a child, I’m dreaming about a wedding and babies and a happily ever after that used t
o make a cold sweat break out over my arms.
“Hey, Mama.” Diego steps up behind me and wraps his arms around my expanding waist as he leans in and presses a kiss to my neck. Tilting my head to the side to give him unfettered access as something between a sigh and moan slips past my lips.
“Hi.”
He smiles against my skin as his hands find my hips. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking,” I answer, opening my eyes. Beams of light filter through the trees surrounding the house, giving the forest an ethereal glow that reflects my new positive mood and I grin as I lean back against my man. He snorts out a laugh.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is,” I tease. “You should be worried.”
A little growl vibrates against my ear and my smile grows. “You come up with a name for our boy while you’re doing all this thinking?”
Last week, Diego realized how close we were getting to my due date, then it occurred to him that we hadn’t decided on a name for our child yet but I haven’t been as worried about it. None of the ones he’s suggested have felt right yet and I’m not going to rush and pick out a name that I don’t like.
“Nope.”
“Fine,” he sighs, just as our little guy kicks at my ribs hard. I wince, hissing out a breath as I dig my fingers into my belly to shove him away from the spot. Diego places a hand on my belly and gently rubs. “How are you feeling?”
“Diego,” I quip, arching a brow as I glance over my shoulder at him. “I am five weeks away from giving birth. My feet are swollen, my hips are fucking killing me, and your child likes to kick my bladder so I have to pee all the time. But, you know, I’m not dead yet so all things considered…”
“Isabelle,” he snarls, gripping my hip tighter. Diego doesn’t like it when I make dark jokes about how I’m going to die soon but how the hell else am I supposed to cope with all this?
“Just kidding, babe,” I reply, nudging him with my shoulder. “Relax.”
