Famous Last Words (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 2)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “No, he never ended up behind bars. I think that is everyone I can remember. Daddy is gone. My brothers are both gone. I’m running out of time.” I don’t want to think about losing Anna. That hurts—bad. “It’s not how much time you have, but what you do with it. Next question.”

  “Did Luca continue the business with Iris’ grandfather?”

  “Oh, yes! Keishi and Luca became terrific friends, especially when he moved to California.”

  The ties between Luca Raniero and Keishi Nakamura go back far enough for me to understand why my father is so concerned. The Raniero-Nakamura relationship skipped a generation. “… Keishi moved?”

  “Yes, Keishi moved to San Francisco.”

  The stress is too much as I try to crack my knuckles for the first time since the accident. They don’t budge, but the pain is good for my soul. “Is he still alive?”

  “Gosh, I don’t even know. I met with him a couple of times back in the late seventies, mostly at high society functions, in passing…you know. Luca went out there to golf with him up until his death in 2005.”

  “He used to take me out to the cabin,” I confide, smiling at the memory. “Old Poppa was the first one to put a weapon in my hand. He gave me my first blade when I was probably four or five. I still have it at the house somewhere. He taught me to shoot—everything—from guns to bows.”

  “Because their empire was turning into something else once Cesario took it over,” she regretfully says. “Luca did a lot of shit, don’t get me wrong. He had some guys with girls out walking the streets. And he ran money, drugs, guns, hell—if you needed it shipped, he’d do it.” Her honesty is worth every ounce of my respect. “Cesario started trafficking early on; Luca was so upset.” I shrug as the tears come to my eyes. “But there was nothing he could’ve done. Cesario was making the men more money, and loyalty was forgotten.”

  “What about Campanelli?”

  “You really want to get in bed with those snakes?”

  Stretching my arms up, I snicker, “No.”

  “I’ll tell you—the Gennaro and Campanelli families should never have gotten together. And the thing was, they didn’t need to. They each had enough resources for their outfits. They didn’t need to partner up. I’m not even sure why it happened, but it didn’t surprise me. I think we all expected it.”

  “I could pick your brain for hours, little lady.”

  “I’m aware, and I’m happy to let you do it after you process some of this.” I drop my hands to the table, and she gives them a gentle squeeze. “Two more questions.”

  Popping my jaw, I seriously ask, “How much do you think—not know—how much do you think Iris knows about Lotus?”

  “That’s a complicated question, Sal.”

  “I need to know if she knows anything about Lotus because it could be the key to changing everything for me,” I mutter, sounding desperate.

  “What do you think?”

  Placing a cigarette on my lips, I let it dangle there. “I think I don’t know.”

  Grabbing a water bottle, she asks, “Is she close with that side of the family?”

  “It’s not in any of the files,” I reply, taking the bottle from her hands, unscrewing the lid, and pouring the water into a cup.

  “That isn’t what I mean, and you know it, Salvatore. Have you talked to her about this stuff or are you just so busy getting your rocks off, you forgot to ask?”

  “I did what Kaci told me to do,” I protest, pleading guilty by stupidity.

  “Did you ever think to question for one-second what Kaci’s motivations might have been?”

  “I was nineteen goddamned years old, and I made some huge fucking mistakes. Can someone please forgive me?”

  “You need to forgive yourself, son,” she reprimands. “You have guilt, and that’s not on the rest of us, that’s on you. I get this started six years ago but make your amends before you’re forty. My eighteen-year-old girl made plenty of mistakes. The biggest one was not running off with Luca when he asked me to. I could have saved myself twenty years of heartache with one quick yes.”

  “… You want me to say yes?”

  “I want you to figure out how in the hell to get out of this mess before you’re walking with a cane.”

  “Better to whip a girl with.” I snarl.

  “Time is of the essence. Don’t waste it, hiding behind something you are not. And only you can decide who you are. What is your biggest mistake?”

  “Trusting Kaci!” Lighting the smoke, I exhale, “Or letting Iris leave, one or the other.”

  “You love her.”

  “More than words,” I vow, snapping my teeth onto my bottom lip.

  “Then figure out how to get out of this mess. And whose ass you are going to be indebted to. Take care of the shit, Sal. Or you’ll end up exactly like Luca and me.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” I say with a shake of my head as I focus on who I could stand to owe.

  Her temper rises as she yells, “All of that and you have the nerve to tell me it was easy?”

  “Not your whole life,” I say, calming her down. “Trying to decide whose ass I’m wiping.”

  “Who’s got the best ass?”

  With a mischievous grin, I ask, “… You want the answer to that?”

  “You are too much!”

  Needing the confirmation, I ask, “Did you love him?”

  “Is this your fifth question?”

  “Probably not,” I snort.

  “I will always love Luca, but you shouldn’t strive to emulate us.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I’m chasing a ghost,” I confess as we both tear up again.

  With gentle persuasion, she quizzes, “In Kaci?”

  “No, Iris.”

  “The absolute worst case is you make a wrong move and lose the hand.”

  “No, the absolute worst is the Queen not making it to the end. Luca did one thing very right. And I’m the lucky son-of-a-bitch getting the honor of her royal presence.”

  “Ohhhhh,” she moans, closing her eyes. “Sometimes you Raniero’s have a way of saying exactly what you mean.”

  “It’s a curse.”

  “No, Lucas, it is a blessing.”

  “How is this?” With a newfound determination, I reveal, “I’m going to destroy my father.”

  “You’ll need a seat at the big boy table then,” she marvels with an amusement.

  “Then someone best get the fuck out of my way because I’m coming, and it’s going to be a beautiful fucking day when I get there.”

  Getting up, I walk over to Anna and kneel. My fingers touch her diamond necklace as I whisper, “… Was I half as good as him?”

  “Oh, darling, you’re so much better,” she says, handing me Luca’s rosary. I remember the large, reddish wooden beads from when I was a child, and my eyes glisten at her gesture. “Being present grabs you bonus points. But be careful who you give your hands to.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I respectfully say as I stand and extend my hand. “Dance with me, Little Butterfly?”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  In the middle of the cold, dimly lit room, I hold the woman Old Poppa loved and realize what is important. I cannot deny my birthright.

  I am a mafioso.

  But what I do with that is my choice, and I’d never felt quite so free as I did at that moment. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t running. I was accepting.

  “You’re going to hate me. Or at least curse my name. But someone needs to make you show your teeth, Sal.” She breaks away to the door. I grab a smoke but don’t light it. This whole day has got me on edge. Anna taps the door, and my mistress welcomes me with a smile.

  Catching the cigarette in my fingers, I mumble, “Holy fucking shit…”

  “This one managed to con me into letting her come. The dress is…”

  “Don’t tell me,” I say, staring at the beautiful royal purple dress from the past. “The dress is the same one you wore at the deli
in the North End during your backseat rendezvous with Old Poppa.”

  “The exact one,” the gentle doe-eyed peep mutters. “Anna told me the juicy parts of that story.”

  “I’m going to leave you two kids alone,” Anna remarks, grabbing her purse and kissing me goodbye. I hug her. With her hands on my cheek, she rubs her thumb over the scruff on my chin. “Remember, I’m a big fan of mistresses.” She winks.

  “You’re so bad,” I jokingly remark before offering my hand to Amber. “Hey! I get one more question!”

  “Non,” she replies with a broad smile. “Because I just gave you the answer. Make sure you slow down in the petals,” she encourages with a bite of her lip and a roll of her hips. “Je ne vais pas courir dans Les Pétales. Au Revoir, Salvatore.”

  I will not run in the petals.

  I smirk.

  No, Anna, I won’t run, but I will confidently swagger through the petals, take my time, and enjoy the journey.

  In the interrogation room, the shadows drift across her skin, reminding me of my carnal lust and how it feels to mark this woman. Her slender fingers slip into mine as the black straps on her royal purple dress suggest our darkest of fantasies.

  Holding Amber close, I whisper, “Who are you loyal to?”

  “I’m loyal to you,” Amber whispers, licking her lips. “Always you.”

  “… And Deacon?”

  Her red lips part as I already know the answer, but I need to see if she’ll tell me the truth. I need to know if she will confess her heart. “I love him more than life itself, but my loyalty is with you.”

  “I need you not to be afraid to pull the trigger again.”

  “… Against?”

  “Anyone you fear may threaten us,” I inform, blinking up to her blue eyes and moving to clean up the table. “Have you altered Iris’ itinerary?”

  A soft smile perks upon her lips. “I’m the only one in the world who will know where Iris is. Dom thinks he has her, but her contracts have been negotiated with our associates, and the false harbors of her escape have been generously paid off for three years of disappearance. She is off of the playing field. It’s time for you to make moves.”

  “You know I couldn’t do this without you,” I marvel, knowing how integral Amber has been in my uprise. Lighting a smoke, I snap the lighter shut and take her hand. The nicotine drifts like a gloomy cloud above our head.

  “I’m well aware,” she whispers, giving a seductive stare and bending across the table to kiss me. Her breath hits my lips and sends a shiver through me.

  “I need you on my dick…”

  “Mr. Raniero, I thought you’d never ask,” she mutters, crawling across the table to me. My hands ease up underneath the hem of her skirt to the garter belt and stockings. She knows what I like. We are down for the count, and there are very few I trust anymore.

  My eternal mistress will never go against me.

  “You are too good to me,” I growl, kissing the tops of her cleavage. “Did you fuck my bitch?”

  Skimming her hands over my shoulders and neck, she giggles as I tug down my loose pants. “What do you think?”

  “I think you treated her like a motherfucking princess.”

  Straddling onto my cock, she provocatively smiles. “She’s still an oinker.”

  “So are you, baby girl.” I thrust up hard into her wetness. She effortlessly slides against my ridge, bouncing along and finding our abandon. This is how we stay sane. I hate how fast I want to come inside of her hollow. I hate how much I need this. And how much I don’t have free access to my pretty whore anymore. “You know, I love you, darlin’.”

  Her expression turns distant as she loses the momentum, and tears trickle over her cheeks. Her sniffles escalate to hysterical wails as she lays her forehead against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry Nero… oh my God, I’m so sorry…” Her dark words sound more like a confession than desire. “I never meant to do it. I never meant to keep it a secret for so long. Oh, my God …you’re going to fucking kill me. I’m so fucking guilty. The blood is on my hands.”

  I don’t understand what happened as my first reaction is she accidentally offed another soul. “What’s wrong, babe? Just tell me.”

  “There is something I have to tell you about Raine.”

  “… What rain?” I ask, holding her close to my body and forbidding her to run away. “Is it raining?” Rubbing my hands on her back, I snicker, “I don’t get out much.”

  “Not the rain in the sky,” Amber whispers, biting her lip. My fingers brush over her cheeks, through the tears of an incomprehensible pain as I’m so very lost. “Raine Raniero.”

  The door swings open fast as Ronnie enters. “Um, I hate to interrupt this reunion, but the Warden is running impromptu inspections.”

  “Fuck,” I mumble, pulling out. “I gotta go. I can’t do another stint down in the hole.”

  “Go, go!” Amber urges, smoothing the dress over her ass. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

  I steal one more kiss and note the wild panic in her eyes. Amber never wavers; she is as steadfast as they come. I walk away, knowing everything isn’t fine.

  And it hasn’t been fine for a long fucking time.

  43

  I.D.E.N.T.I.T.Y.

  Rocking slowly in the chair, I keep rehashing Deacon’s final words to me—“I got you. I got this. It will be okay, I promise.”

  I catch a glimpse of the calendar in Ronnie’s office—Tuesday, September 8, 2015. I’ve been incarcerated for seventy-nine days. Seventy-two days longer than my father thought I would last.

  “When you are done playing these games and ready to do what you were born to do, call me. I doubt you make it one-week, pussy boy.”

  Playing games translates into my unwillingness to accept the facts in my mind. My lifelong struggle with being “Cesario Raniero’s son” or “the Raniero boy” drives my psyche to a place of rebellion.

  But what if it is all in vain?

  A slight temper with the words…

  Would my view change?

  If I could be seen as standing on my own two feet – Sal Raniero – would it shift my stance? Can I be the man Luca Raniero was?

  It all falls in line with being “ready to do what you were born to do,” and I cannot deny how close I am coming to that point. I’ve meticulously plotted to insure certain things fall within my bounds, like allowing Pico to stab Naby or sending Mock to watch over Iris.

  I’m becoming my father’s son, whether I like it or not. While I might not be using my abilities in an unsavory way for me, they’re likely unpleasant for someone else.

  Becoming like my father doesn’t mean being him.

  And as I wait for Amber to be escorted to a room by Ronnie, I consider the things I believe are true. They’re coming to fruition, regardless of how I feel.

  Identifying my identity.

  “Woo!” Ronnie says, exasperated. “She’s a handful, honey.”

  “Oh no…”

  She boogies her way to me. “I think she wants to be my best damn friend by the way she’s going on. She seems very anxious. Are you ready?”

  “Ya,” I stoically reply. I should feel good about seeing Amber—my mistress—but all I can think about is what if…

  We exit her office and march towards the grief room. How poignant. My footsteps are heavy, my heart even more so, as time slips by unnoticed. I’m trapped beneath the fabric of a parachute I never asked for, and now, I can no longer breathe. Everything is moving so slow, and I cannot hear a thing. I cast a glance into the library and see the chair where Naby used to read, and then I spot Handcock on the other side of the glass at the phones.

  Nothing stays the same.

  And if I can’t keep up with the changes, I will perish.

  Ronnie opens the door, and Amber spins in her red dress. Her hair is down, and the slight smile concerns me. She’s too gussied up for a casual visit. Her eyes skate towards Ronnie as she closes the door. Amber reaches her han
ds out to me, but I’m holding an envelope to my chest in one hand. We end up with the tips of our fingers curled together.

  “You look good,” she lies, peering up to me. “What’s wrong, Lucas?” Her open palm rests against my cheek. “Talk to me.”

  I hand her the unmarked, open envelope filled with truth, but say nothing.

  “What is this?” Pulling the three pictures from inside, she blinks with sheer horror.

  The first one is Amber holding a newborn baby in a field. The second is Henney, Dom, and Amber with the baby. The final third is the only close-up I need to know who the parents are.

  Setting my jaw, I wait without a sound.

  Amber’s mouth opens wide as her eyes immediately tear up. Her whole body quivers as she is caught in my web. “Where did you get these?”

  “What…no explanation?” I angrily hiss. My fists clench as my heart pounds in my chest. “No, lies?” I mock scornfully. “No, I found this baby that looks the damn spitting image of Kaci Hope and Sal Raniero laying by the roadside and picked it up for a family shot?!?!”

  “I’m… I’m so, so sorry…”

  “You’d think one of the hundreds of fucking times I had my dick buried in you, whore, that you would have bothered to say—I held your baby!”

  Her lips tighten as the tears trickle over her cheeks. “Salvatore…”

  “Do. Not. Salvatore. Me.” I stomp in a circle around the room and tug at my hair. I have to do something to keep from killing her dead in prison. “Because the Salvatore you knew ten minutes ago is dead and gone.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  My feet stop moving, and I bend slightly towards her. I don’t lunge because if I get my hands around her neck, I will choke her to death.

  This is discipline.

  And it is taking everything I’ve got to keep my shit in check.

  “The truth!” I bellow out. “Why don’t we start with the motherfucking truth?”

  The stack of pictures sits haphazardly in her trembling fingers as she tries to shove them back in the envelope. Sobbing hysterically, she knows her gig is up.