“I only get off at 69.”
She giggles. “That’s your problem. You need to learn how to get off at 62.”
I adjust my hat and settle in for the long drive ahead. I know we won’t make it today, but we’ll get close. I won’t let her drive. This is my journey, my exploration of self, and my archaeological dig to find the old Sal.
“Where is 62 going?”
“86.”
“The year Kaci was born.”
“Maybe that’s your hang up,” she ponders, slurping down her java. “You are afraid of disappointing your Creator.”
“That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m afraid of disappointing a dead girl?”
“Yeah,” she acknowledges with a heavy stare. “Think of it this way. You feel doomed to fail either way you move. You either marry Emily, who was not on Kaci’s agenda, or you accidentally get Iris killed. You’re fucking stuck in a loop of failed questions. Kaci gave you the answer.”
“Up to a point,” I argue, knowing there was no way she could’ve predicted the unknown, like Amber’s rogue tactics or the children being sent off. “There were things she didn’t know…”
“And you’ve winged those decisions with great ease.”
“Have I? I’ve got two littles stashed in a ramshackle apartment in the South of France.”
Her mouth opens. “… You know where Merritt and Raine are?”
“Of course, I do, I put them there,” I reply, lifting my brows like the monster I am. “I check in with Georgia frequently to see if anyone has found them. You are the only other person in the world that knows this outside of Deacon.”
“Do you know where Diablo is too?”
“I haven’t a fucking clue where that bastard is,” I confide, feeling a burst of confidence in the honest moment. “If I find him, I may fucking kill him though.”
“Because he hurt Deacon?”
“No, because he’s better than me.”
We cross the country in a silent prayer as I search for vindication. I know who I am, but putting the man I long to be into action is another battle. I think about the choices we make. The distance we’ve chosen. The path forgotten as we search for validation.
I am the Raniero boy.
Iris is the granddaughter of the leader of Lotus.
I decide to stop in a rinky-dink town in Iowa. Jaid checks us in; I carry our bags.
And we sleep.
Late the next day, we arrive at my command center where Georgia, Jas, and Kev work. Technically, they still are all on the Sibyl payroll, but almost everything they do is for me. I have a team of twenty agents I boss around and send out to places I don’t want to go.
Mostly because I hate footwork these days.
There was a time—I lived for that shit—but those innocent notions have long since passed and I’ve moved on to the straight jacket of a leather chair my father keeps me in. I fully expect it to turn into an electric chair at some point and kill me dead.
I’m walking the grounds with Georgia one morning. Things have improved substantially around here since I first arrived at Chris Smith’s family farm years ago with Nico. It’s not perfect, but the roof doesn’t leak and the falling wallpaper has been removed.
Georgia says, “We need to talk about the future, Sal.”
I stare out at the pasture behind the house. “You need to come work for me.”
“I already work for you,” she points out. “You want me to come to work for you—doing The Unholy work and the cases at Sibyl—and I haven’t yet decided if you can pull that off.”
Ouch.
I understand she means well, but the delivery bites. “You’re worried I’ll crack up.”
“I have some concerns about your mental state.”
“My head is on just fine.”
“Not without Iris,” she elaborates with a maternal tenderness. “You need to get her back on our team.”
“I cannot do that right now,” I say, exhaling a cloud of nicotine. “And you know that.”
“Everyone thinks you are wrong.”
I glimpse at her and shake my head. “Someone always thinks you’re wrong when their ass isn’t on the line.”
“You have tunnel vision on keeping her at such a distance.”
I give her a disparaging look. “Because you don’t trust me or because you don’t trust her?”
“She put a fucking gun to your head,” she bursts, yelling. “What reason do we have to believe she won’t do it again?”
“She won’t.”
She huffs. “I have no words for this.”
Steaming with rage at the situation, I shout, “Say it!”
“Why should I, when you won’t listen to anyone?”
My nose twitches in the cool morning breeze as tears threaten to spill from my eyes. “Everyone thinks they know her, but no one does.”
“And you think you do?”
Stepping up, I contend, “I know I do.”
“Then stop dicking around with this whole Brethren thing. Take the fucking deal and make a run for it. If you really love Iris—if you really believe in Iris—then you take the deal.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
“We try something else,” she rallies, raising her hands. “Prove to everyone you have the balls to match your brains.”
I snicker. “You’re really serious…”
“But most of all, Sal, you need to prove it to yourself.”
Several days later, Jaid and I are in northern Nebraska bouncing from house to house. “Is there a reason you want to live in Nebraska?”
I pull up into the overgrown driveway of our final stop. A late spring snow has covered the ground in several inches as I carefully maneuver our way up to the house. It’s set deep into the property with lots of trees, shrubs, and dead brush.
Killing the engine, I slide out of the truck and stare at the magnificent Italianate structure. Jaid comes to my side as I whisper, “This is it. I’m buying this place.”
“How do you know?”
“Because some things you just know.”
She flips through the stack of papers from Georgia. “This one has been abandoned since 1986…what the hell…”
“Yeah.” I peer down at her. “See, it’s fate.”
“Salvatore…” she yells, chasing after me as I walk with determination up to the house. The porch has seen far better days. With gaping holes and broken boards, I cautiously step towards the door and pull the key from my jacket. Cracking it open, I take a quick gander at the place, only reaffirming—this place is mine. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am.”
“Answer me this…”
“Why Nebraska?”
Remembering the very moment, I smile. “Because a wise young man once told me—We don’t get to decide how to wrap up our lives, but I guess we need to believe we can go out with a nice shiny bow.”
Her stunned look speaks volumes. “Nebraska is going out with a nice shiny bow?”
“It is…because it all started here…fate.”
She shrugs. “So, buy the dump, but don’t blame me when it falls down around your package.”
With a surge of energy, I pick her up and spin her around in the foyer. “Dear God, we’re going to drop through the floor and never be found.”
“That is exactly what happened to me,” I say, holding her close to me. “I fell into someone else’s world.”
“Aren’t we created doing that?”
My lips hit hers with an intensity I’ve not felt in months. I take control of the situation, the girl, and the desire. My hands slip under her shirt as we stumble about and she falls onto the shag covered staircase. I tug my shirt off.
“What are you doing?”
“Fucking you.”
Her eyes widen. “… Here?”
“Yes, right here. Right fucking now.” I unbutton her jeans and remove them from her body. Her shoes clunk to the floor. Spreading her thighs wide, I lick
two fingers and sink them deep inside of her wetness. I’m finger fucking her with everything I have. “Tell me how much you want me.”
“Hell… Maybe I shouldn’t have told you how to fix the problem.”
“Say it.”
Her eyes well up with tears. “You know I do, but I also know I can’t have…”
I cease her words with a swipe of my tongue in her mouth. Wrapping my hand around the base of my cock, I tease her swollen clit and dip the head just inside of her. She moans into my lungs, breathing her lust onto my embers. We’ll fully engulf if she keeps this up.
I sink inside of her as the rickety staircase protests with a creak and crack. I break the kiss to take her wrists and pin them two steps above her head. “Are you aware how disgusting this is?”
“Sex ain’t pretty, sweetheart.” She slicks around my shaft like we were made to do this. “Put your foot up on the rail because I’m about to go nuts.”
“Shit…” she pants out, doing as I asked. Her body fits so perfect against mine. “I love you. And if she hurts you, I swear to God, Sal, I’ll slit her throat.”
“You do it.”
“I will,” she reiterates, licking her lips as my hands scoop beneath her ass and we thrust into the stratosphere. “And I will lick the blood and call you mine.”
“You gotta stop talking dirty to me, I’m going to come too soon.”
Her eyes close as her head droops back. “This is so fucked up!” Her voice echoes through the empty house I’m claiming as mine.
If I come inside it, I own it.
It’s mine, bitches. All mine.
“I want that pretty pussy to come on my dick,” I breathe against her lips. My words are hot and my breath spreads the danger. I’m the fire your Daddy warned you about. Don’t get burned. “I want to feel you,” I seethe, bucking hard and deep. “Clench around me. I want your cunt to strangle my cock, baby.”
“We’re going to hell for this…”
I dart my eyebrows up a few times. “We’re already in hell.”
“And what happens next?”
“We call hell our fucking kingdom.”
7
Dead Mistress
Sitting in the war room with my team, I ought to count my blessings, but what I long to do is count the heads of men I’ve dethroned. I’m twirling a pencil while listening to Jas rattle on about the financials from The Brethren. I said I used the team for my own selfish needs and I meant it.
“I think you have an opportunity to steal The Brethren’s attentions from Cinco,” Jas informs, tapping on the documents.
With a concerned expression, Jaid adds, “But if he does that, we get a target on our backs.”
My eyes drift over to her, sitting opposite me at the round table. “We already have a target on our backs.”
“Because you helped Pico out of jail when he stabbed Naby.”
I shrug off her chastising remarks. “I just expedited the process. It was better for all involved.”
She stands up and slams her hand down on the table. “You risked a man’s life to balance out your actions.”
“I risk lives every single fucking day.”
“One day,” she hisses, walking a few steps towards the door. “That is going to bite you hard, and I just pray it doesn’t take a chunk out of your heart.”
With Jaid and I at odds, my free ride of a hot fuck rents a car and leaves that night. I should have expected it. I don’t think she can take the high stress of being involved in the strategical side of my organization. I get it. This isn’t easy on any of us. Decisions must be made and sometimes people die, but Jaid’s dreams of a peacekeeping world where we all unite and divide the criminal pot are flawed. We fight to achieve a top spot in our deals.
Cinco can bring mass amounts of bangs and drugs to The Brethren; The Unholy can funnel and launder money with our eyes closed and bring whatever goods they want. We have an all-access pass to Cristos’ stash of connections. Hell, if they want a shipping crate with loaded gummy bears in only white and red, we can do that too.
“How long can this go on?” I asked Kary at dinner one night a few months back. “I mean before you smack the cuffs on me and throw away the key.”
He sat down his wine glass, latched his fingers together, and looked me straight in the eye. “You continue to bring me growing evidence to take down Raniero Enterprises and this could go on for years. I’m not arresting you. I won’t do it.”
“What about my associates?”
“I’ve promised immunity to you and Iris. I cannot promise the security of anyone else. My best suggestion is to get in, have them take what they want, and get the hell out.”
“Witness protection?”
“Not unless we absolutely need it,” he said, taking another swallow of the wine. “My goal is to take down everyone in RE.”
I didn’t know how long I would play his game. He was either blackmailing my ass by way of extortion or wanting a cut of the deal. “And the half mil in your account?”
“A deposit in good faith for future services rendered.”
Under the starry sky, Jas bumps my arm. “What are you going to do Boss?”
“I need a favor.”
Sitting on the fence rail, he lights a smoke. “Yep?”
“I want someone tailing Kary Vega, run a full background including financials.”
His expression morphs to one of a serious, protective militant man. He won’t take kindly to anyone dicking The Unholy or me over. “… You worried about him?”
“I worry about everyone.”
He gives a hearty chuckle. “You don’t have to worry about me, Raniero. I’ve seen you at your worst already.”
“Don’t remind me,” I jab, smirking. “And spend some coin getting this place and the new property cleaned up.”
“That new place is rough,” he says, gazing up. “Jaid isn’t happy.”
“It doesn’t need to be perfect just get me the basics—water, electrical, internet. That new place is mean.”
He hops off the rail and asks, “How much?”
“No more than I gave Vega between the two. Make command decent and livable. Let Georgia decorate, she’ll enjoy it.”
With all the knowledge we have on The Brethren tucked safely in my hard drive, I arrive in Vegas several days later. I haven’t been to Vegas in years. The twinkling lights and dizzying sounds send my mind fluttering as I know better than to sit down at any table.
Addictions.
I have the disease.
I follow the bellman as he takes my bags up to my suite. “You’re in room 1402.”
We step inside to the entry way, which is closed off by two frosted glass pane doors with Asian etchings, and he sets my bags down. “If you need anything else, Sir...”
I hand him a hundred just to get him out of my room. I want to take a hot bath, have a drink, and watch some baseball before our meetings commence tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will be twenty-six.
I close and lock the door before checking out the rest of the suite. Opening the art-deco doors, I spot the incredible view of The Strip in a living area. Off to the right, a bedroom awaits with lavish adornments. To the left, the bathroom awaits with a view of the mountains. A bottle of champagne sits chilling in a bucket as Amber’s bubble covered hand lifts out of the water.
“Are you going to pour, or should I?”
I stride inside and plop my ass on the makeup bench. “What the hell are you doing here? More importantly, why are you in my bathtub?”
“Because I have a vested interest in making sure this deal goes through tomorrow, besides…it’s your birthday.”
“If you’re the present, you can return it.”
She pouts as a few long auburn tassels scatter over her cheeks. “I don’t want to be returned though, Sal. I want you to use me. I need my spot back in your world.”
“Your spot is gone, Amber.”
She pivots to the windows and licks her lips. “… You have a new
mistress?”
I do.
Her name is Iris.
“Then at least let me help you solidify the deal with Zach and Zeke,” she urges, tucking her legs underneath her and sitting up in the tub. Let me go be their entertainment for the weekend courtesy of The Unholy.”
“Zach won’t have anything to do with you.”
With a shock, she bursts, “Why?”
“Because he is gay, not to mention he’s a cannibal. You do not want to mess around with Zach.”
“I shouldn’t or you don’t want me to?”
“Both,” I say, cracking my knuckles. “Entertaining them isn’t necessary.”
She purses her lips together and says, “I’m doing it one way or another, regardless of what you want.”
“Fine.” I stand up, grab my bags, and walk out the door. I head downstairs to get another room when I pass by Nico and Dom.
“Where are you going?”
“To get a room not occupied by Amber.”
I shake Nico’s hand as Dom laughs and pulls out his wallet. He hands a room key to me. “Go crash with Cruz. He’s in 1622.”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah, give us a couple hours. We’re going to hit the BJ tables.”
I grin at the innuendo and think a BJ sounds pretty good right now.
I sneak into Deacon’s room, but he’s not here. I drop my bags on the sofa, hit the mini bar, and go to take the bath I’ve been thinking about since I arrived. The room is reversed so the bedroom has the mountain view and the tub has a splendid view of The Strip. I yank off my clothes, fill the tub, and add a generous amount of bubble bath.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I try to see what Flouncy, Jaid, and Amber do. I try to believe in the man Deacon sees. I try to love the man Iris loves. It’s difficult and complicated because they don’t see the other half. They don’t see the darkest parts of me where I feel remorse, guilt, and empathy for the woman I don’t love, but am engaged to. They don’t know because I don’t let it show.
I play it cool. I have my shit together. I can implement our strategy like a charm, giving firm handshakes and priceless white smiles to ooze thinking our way.
Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) Page 6
