Destructive: Combative Trilogy #3

by McLean, Jay

  “Gallo,” Brent answers, raising a finger in the air, “is the most notorious crime family in New York.” He nods toward Nate. “It’s his grandfather’s name. But…” His eyes narrow as he focuses on Nate. “I didn’t think there were any of them left.”

  “I thought you didn’t have any family?” I ask Nate. “Isn’t that why Benny—”

  “I didn’t know he existed,” Nate cut in. “And I’d appreciate it if that information stayed within this room. He’s my nonno’s brother, but they were estranged.”

  “The priest?” Perceval almost shouts, and Nate nods. “I’d heard rumors, but…”

  “He doesn’t want in on a single part of this world. He’s doing this as a favor to me, and that’s all.”

  “But Benny knows about him?” asks Brent.

  “Yes.”

  Perceval again: “And Benny wants as many contacts as he can get, and there’s no better contact in the crime world than a Gallo.”

  Nate nods at this.

  I ask, feeling pathetic, “Do I need to be here?”

  “Yes,” Nate’s quick to respond.

  “But wait,” Perceval cuts in. “Even if you get Benny out of the house, how can we be sure that his capos won’t be there?”

  Tiny speaks up. “Because I have three courtside tickets to watch the 76ers, and those two motherfuckers love the 76ers.”

  “Holy shit,” Perceval mutters, sucking in a breath. “When is this happening?”

  “Tomorrow night,” says Nate.

  “That doesn’t give us much time.”

  Nate shrugs. “That’s not my problem.”

  Perceval eyes Brent, mumbles, “This motherfucker.”

  “Bailey,” Nate says, looking over at me. I’d already been watching him, watching the way his fingers have been brushing against Ashton’s bare shoulder.

  I push down the pain. “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to need you to get the detective off my back for the day and most of the night. I can’t have him following me around, digging into my uncle’s past. You think you can do that?”

  My gaze lowers. “Yeah.”

  “How?” asks Brent.

  I clear my throat, find my voice. “I’d been planning on a surprise for Ky.” I keep my eyes downcast. “I wanted to take him and Jackson to visit their mother, so I can just push it forward a few days.”

  “Meeting the boyfriend’s mom,” Nate mumbles, and I look up at him. “That’s kind of a big deal.” There’s a pain in his eyes, one I recognize. Because even if it was him and me loving freely, meeting his mother would be impossible. “Have a good time.” He tries to smile. “She’s going to love you, Bai.”

  Heat burns behind my eyes. “I hope so,” I choke out, the ache in my chest making it hard to breathe. I ask, “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, is it safe? What if Benny finds out? It—”

  “He won’t,” Ashton interrupts. “And if he does, that’s something we’ll deal with. Right, Nate?”

  Nate keeps his pain-filled eyes on mine. “Right,” he deadpans.

  “I don’t know,” says Brent after a beat. “I’m still processing. I have some concerns. Have you organized it yet?”

  “Not yet,” answers Nate. “We wanted to run it by you first before we called him.”

  “Look,” Tiny breaks in, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against, “if you guys can’t make it work, you better tell me now so I don’t waste those courtside seats by having to sit next to Tweedledee and Tweedledum-as-shit.”

  “What’s the problem?” Perceval asks Brent.

  Brent chews his lip, stretches the muscles in his neck. “Truthfully, I’m worried. We’re going to go into an empty house, and we have no idea what’s on the other side waiting for us.”

  Nate pushes forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “So, what you’re saying is, you don’t trust me.”

  “Honestly,” Brent says, shrugging. “I’m on the fence.”

  Nate scoffs. “I’m fucking here, aren’t I?” His voice rises. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked, everything you’ve wanted. I’m making the impossible possible for you, and you want to stand there and—”

  “Call Benny,” orders Brent, his authoritative tone unfamiliar to my ears. “Right now, in front of all of us.”

  Nate glares at him, then seems to concede when he reaches into his pocket.

  “Not you,” Brent snaps, then points to Ashton. “Her.”

  Nate sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, his free hand tapping at his pocket.

  Brent adds, “And put it on speaker.”

  “Nate?” Ashton asks.

  He opens his eyes, meets her questioning ones. “Do it.”

  Ashton pulls her phone from her purse, taps it a few times, then holds it out in front of her. Nate takes her free hand in his, nodding in encouragement. The call rings, and rings, and rings some more. Finally, it connects, and a loud, gruff voice fills the entire room, “Ashton?”

  Nate presses his lips to her temple, pushing a final dagger through my heart. Ashton’s eyes close, right before she says, “Hi, Daddy.”

  45

  NATE

  “I like to think that we fell in love like any two normal people do. I think it started with an attraction, and it led to this need for each other. And that need turned to love. And that love was all-consuming.”

  “That’s normal, right?”

  “It was the most normal I’d ever felt—those moments with you.”

  My inhale comes as a shock, and I open my eyes, see myself in the mirror, but the more days that pass, the more I don’t recognize the person looking back at me.

  Since our conversation yesterday morning, Bailey’s consumed every thought, every breath, and it’s making me lose any ounce of fight I have left.

  Behind me, the restroom door opens, and Uncle Ezio walks in, his eyes meeting mine through the mirror. “You good?”

  My blink is slow, my lids heavy.

  “Ashton wanted me to check on you. You’ve been in here a while.”

  “I have?”

  He nods. “You want to pull the plug on this whole thing, you just say the word.”

  “No.” I run the tap, dip my head, and splash water on my face. “I’ve never been more ready,” I tell him. Because now I have closure. I have resolve. And I have an uncle who’s willing to go above and beyond to make sure everything goes as planned.

  * * *

  It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at the way Benny’s kissing my uncle’s ass. Or reach across the table and punch him square in the face. Ashton must sense my irritation because she keeps squeezing my knee under the table, a way to remind me of why we’re here. We have a plan, and that plan can’t come to fruition if I piss off Benny in the slightest way.

  We’ve been at the restaurant for over two hours now, giving the agents enough time to do what they need to, but I’m getting antsy, ready for the next phase.

  I’d spent two days in New York going over everything with Uncle Ezio. He wasn’t too keen on the plan but accepted it regardless, and more, he kept his promise to my mother that he would later pass on to me.

  “Are we ready to leave?” my uncle asks, his question aimed at Benny. For a priest, he’s a damn good liar. Especially since he’s spent the entire night making sure Benny feels like he’s the one in charge.

  “Yes, yes,” Benny says, pushing his chair back slightly and raising his hand to get the server’s attention. Back in the day, he was known as Big Benny, standing at 6’5” and built like a motherfucker. Over the years, he let himself go. Clearly, the only thing Ashton got from him was his name.

  Until I stripped her of it.

  Benny makes a show of being the one to cover our meals, and even smiles at Ashton as if he hasn’t treated her like the fucking scumbag he is her entire life. “It’s been a good night. I rarely get to spend time with my beautiful daughter and her husband.”

  My eyes twitch to roll, but again, Ashton sque
ezes my leg, another reminder.

  “We don’t see enough of each other, Daddy. I’ve missed you.” Fuck, she might be the greatest liar of all.

  “I sure could do with a nightcap,” Ezio sings.

  Benny gets to his feet, does exactly as I knew he would: “Let’s go back to my place. I have quite the selection.”

  * * *

  I’d driven from New York straight to the feds’ house, seeing as it was on the way. But that wasn’t the only reason we’d needed to take two cars. Tiny had to bring Ashton, and with him, a microscopic GPS tracker that he’d stick to the agents’ SUV so we could track them tonight. A lot of what I’d planned harnessed on them doing what I’d predicted. Ashton gave them the code for Benny’s gate yesterday, and after we’d picked Benny up and the coast was clear, I’d sent them a message using the burner they’d given me to tell them it was go time. I had no expectations of them finding anything at Benny’s house, which is fine because that’s not the reason I’d gone through the effort of setting this up. I’d wanted them to know when we left and when we returned, all with the priest by our side. And, going by the text I just received from Tiny—who’s legitimately sitting courtside at a Sixers’ game—the agents are doing exactly as I’d suspected. They’re in their SUV at the end of Benny’s street, sitting in wait, because they want more than what I’ve already offered them. And that, I knew, was coming.

  “Perfect,” I murmur, shoving my phone back in my pocket and throwing my arm around Ashton as we step out of the restaurant together, Benny and Ezio chatting away in front of us. “Are you ready?” I ask her.

  She leans into me. “I’ve been ready for years.”

  * * *

  Benny’s home is dark when we step inside, and when he flicks on the lights, nothing is out of place.

  He leads us to his office, where he sits behind his desk, leaning back in his chair as he waits for Ashton to bring him his whiskey. For Benny and a lot of the men in The Family, women are nothing but a possession, and he treats his daughter as such. He did the same with his wife before she passed when Ashton was just eight years old.

  Ashton serves him his drink first while Ezio and I get comfortable on the chairs opposite him. By the time she gets to me, my fingers are trembling.

  Ashton sits on the arm of my chair, her body turned to mine.

  “Next time I’m in New York, I’ll be sure to visit,” Benny tells Ezio.

  My uncle shakes his head. “Not a good idea. I don’t keep public relations with men like you.”

  Benny’s eyes narrow, a flicker of irritation flashing on his features, and Ashton leans into me, hiding her smile in the crook of my neck. I squeeze her waist, whispering in her ear, “It’s time.”

  Pulling back, her eyes lock on mine, and I run my finger across her nose, at the freckles there, and smile when she scrunches her nose. She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes drifting shut, and when she opens them, there’s a strength and determination that’s everything Ashton.

  She turns to Benny, her shoulders squared. “Daddy?”

  He looks bored when his gaze meets hers. “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Um… I heard a rumor, and I wanted to ask you if it was true.”

  He leans back, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Don’t you have a husband to bring these concerns to?”

  “Well, I asked Nate, but he wasn’t aware of it.”

  “Nathaniel knows everything in this business.” Benny laughs nervously as he glances at my uncle.

  “Maybe I should…” Ezio trails off, getting to his feet and leaving the office.

  Ashton gets up to close the door, then turns to her dad, her arms crossed. “Are you heading a human-trafficking ring?”

  Benny stands, his fists hitting the desk. “Fuck outta here with this shit, Ashton! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Ashton doesn’t quit, though, because she’s waited for this moment for years. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” She stands her ground, her head held high as she stops on the other side of his desk. My fists ball, my heart racing so hard I can barely breathe. Barely see straight. “Are you letting men do to other girls what you let happen to me?”

  Benny’s face turns red with his withheld rage. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

  “You are, aren’t you?” she seethes.

  Benny raises his hand, and I get to my feet, push Ashton behind me. “You don’t lay a fuckin’ hand on her, you piece of shit!”

  The door to the office opens, and Uncle Ezio appears. Benny drops his hand because he won’t fucking touch her when there’s a Gallo in the room. A priest. “Sorry,” Uncle Ezio says, “this was behind your front door. We must’ve missed it when we came in. Thought it might be important.”

  Benny takes the envelope from him, but keeps his glare on Ashton.

  My chest rises and falls, rapid, and I say over my shoulder, my words for Ashton, “Leave.”

  “Nate… no.”

  I watch Benny open the envelope, peer inside. The second his focus switches from Ashton to me, a weight lifts off my shoulders. Through gritted teeth, he grinds out, “Ashton, I need a minute with Nathaniel. We have business to discuss.”

  “I’m not leaving,” she says, grasping the back of my shirt.

  I don’t turn to her. Can’t. Because I’m too busy watching Benny’s hand, making sure he doesn’t reach for the .44 Magnum he keeps locked in his desk drawer.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Ezio says, pulling Ashton away from me. “They need to talk.”

  Benny waits until they’re gone, his hands itching to hit something.

  Please let it be me.

  He rounds the desk, his eyes on mine. I square my shoulders. Ready. His words leave him in a low rumble. “What the fuck did you do, Nathaniel?”

  I take a step back, again and again, as he towers over me, and I let him follow, taking him as far away from his weapon as possible. “You’re one sick motherfucker, Benny,” I seethe, balling my fists.

  “This isn’t about Ashton anymore.”

  “You ever touch her yourself, or you just leave that shit to Franco?”

  He throws the first punch, getting me square in the jaw, but I’m quick to recover. I shoulder his stomach, bring him down to the floor, my fists flying. I get two clear shots in before he has me pinned beneath him. I grab my gun from the holster, but he’s quicker than I expected. He grasps my wrist, shaking the gun out of my hold, and I push up off the floor, try to buck him off of me. We roll around, throwing blow for blow. Blood hits my tongue when he strikes me on the mouth. I reach up, shove my hand in his face, claw at his fucking eyeballs while I stretch for the gun strapped to my ankle. But he finds my throat, squeezing hard, blocking air from my lungs. My vision blurs while I gasp for my next breath. “You little fuck,” he says, lifting my head and smashing it against the floor. I groan, my head throbbing from the impact. “You want to take me on,” he roars, “you do it like a fuckin’ man!”

  My hands circle his wrists, trying to push him off me, but he only squeezes harder.

  “You’re just like your fuckin’ father,” he fumes. “Weak and pathetic.”

  My heart stops.

  “I’m going to do the same thing I did to him when he started sticking his nose where it didn’t belong… I’m going to kill you like I did him.”

  “Fuck you,” I choke out, a trail of warmth streaking down my temple. “You fuckin’ liar.”

  And then he smiles, this sinister fucking smile that will forever be burned in my memory. “You know why he had a weak heart? Because I put a fucking bullet through it. But with you—you, I’ll end with my bare hands.” My world dims when he strengthens his hold. And then he leans down, spit flying from his mouth when he says, “And the best part… his last words… mio figlio.” My son.

  My body goes numb as darkness fills my soul, and when my eyes drift shut, all I see, all I hear, all I feel is Bailey. And then I’m being crushed, my airways finally clear as I
gasp on a breath. My eyes snap open, my vision blurred with red. I taste it on my tongue, feel it on my flesh. Blood. So much blood. It takes me a moment to realize that Benny’s dead weight is frozen on top of me. Then I hear it, a whimper, a sob, and I blink up at Ashton, standing above us, a pistol—silencer attached—shaking in her hand.

  “Ash,” I breathe out, and she drops the gun, her tear-filled eyes wide as her chest heaves.

  “Oh my god,” she cries, her eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

  I whisper her name, wincing when I push her dead father off me. He rolls to my side, his lifeless eyes aimed at the ceiling. Blood pours from his temple, a single wound, and I look up at my wife. “Ashton…”

  Her hand trembles as she covers her mouth, her breaths ragged, rapid. “I…” She blinks once, letting her tears fall. “I couldn’t let him kill you.”

  46

  NATE

  Ashton’s cries are silent as I hold her, naked and dripping wet from the showerhead above us. Below us, the remnants of her father’s blood flow down the drain. “It’s okay, Ash,” I lie, kissing the top of her head.

  Her shoulders shake with another sob, and she looks up at me, her tear-filled eyes cracking my heart wide open. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize.”

  “But we made a promise… and this wasn’t the plan.”

  She’s right. It wasn’t. But that no longer matters because now we’re here, and I need to fix this. I cup her face. “I know it’s hard, Ash, but we need to be quick. I don’t know how much longer the feds are going to be there, and they need to see us leaving with Ezio, remember? He’s our alibi.”

  She blinks, nodding as I remove my arms from around her.

  “Is it all out?” I ask her.

  “No,” she cries. “The water’s still red. I think—I think it’s in your hair.”