I finished at the bank and drove over to the gas station. I said nothing, getting down to the business at hand. The normalcy of daily chores felt good and took me back to Sugargrove, where life was simple and sweet, and I was so much younger.
Damn, I needed to go home.
Hanging up the gas pump, I opened the door. “Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. I went inside and bought her an iced coffee, a bag of her favorite cheddar popcorn, a couple donuts for Dom, a bag of ice, and a carton of smokes for yours truly. Because fuck if I was going all that way after this with those two for hours on end, I needed it.
At the car, I dropped the ice on the concrete and opened the passenger door to hand Jaid the coffee. She was sulking, but I earned a wiggle of her nose and a grin with the popcorn. “Thank you. I’m sorry. It’s just not fair.”
“Tell me,” I said, tossing the carton and donuts into the driver seat over the top of her. I draped my arms on the roof of the car. “If you think this is easy on me…”
“I don’t…” She twisted the belly of my tank top in her fingers. “But I don’t know how to make any of this better.”
“God, forgive me for what I’m about to do.”
With my phone buzzing, I open my eyes as we cross the state line. It won’t be long to Nashville now. The worst part is I left my Tennessee Whiskey seven hundred miles behind.
I check the messages from Emily, Serene, and Jaid. Emily texts she’s safely in Boston. Serene texts she’s safely in Texas. And Jaid—fucking Jaid—she sends a picture of her topless by the pool and a message, “Use this tonight. I love you.”
Without thinking, I reply, “Don’t make me regret leaving you. I love you.”
“You can come (back) at any point.”
“Who the hell has you grinning?” Nico asks as I toss a glance to Dom with a revealing smirk. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Those donuts were amazing.”
“That they were.”
After another sleepless night—mostly because I was up working the string of murders along the Canadian border with the best partner ever—I go for an early in the morning run to relieve the built-up tension.
A blowjob in the park will only take a guy so far.
We meet with Anna at some posh country club restaurant for lunch on Wednesday. I’m wearing dark gray slacks and a white dress shirt with my hair slicked back. Stepping inside, we are greeted by a young hostess, but I only have eyes for the little white-haired woman waving near the windows.
I hear Dom excuse with a chuckle, “I guess he knows where we are going.”
Anna grins from ear to ear as I hunch down to hug her close. I could easily pick her up and swing her, and while part of me wants to, this is a snotty type place. “Salvatore, my darling, how are you?”
“I’m great,” I lie, and she knows. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better, but we’ll talk in a moment,” she says, moving to hug Dom and Nico. She is cordial and polite with the essence of Southern charm. I pull out her chair and hand her the napkin she threw on the table upon seeing me. “I ordered a pitcher of sweet peach tea for everyone.”
“Sounds lovely,” I say, sitting next to her. She eases her hand into my lap and I hold it. “I didn’t want to call, but I knew requesting my granddaughter would get your attention. Thank heavens you didn’t bring Deacon because I’m going to say a few things about Wendy which may not be very nice.”
“Who brought her on?”
“Jack, of course!” she angrily hollers out. She’s a spitfire, this one. “He brought her on, gave her all kinds of access and privileges she never should’ve had! She’s got Ella and her sister, Kit Jolly, wrapped tight around her finger. And you’ll never believe who called to tell me all of this!”
Dom wipes the bottom of his water glass and asks, “Who?”
“Kate Capri.”
I stroke my goatee and cock a brow. “… Katie?”
“Yes,” she says, cinching her lips tight together. “So, while I understand Mierne has done many things wrong, I need you to hand back my girl because I need some eyes on the academy.”
“Are you not there?”
“I don’t have time for the bullshit anymore, Sal. The board has been wrecked since Lydia Kettles death. They go at odds for hours, round and round, over stupid shit. How we should have equal numbers on our gender enrollment and invite the unqualified because it looks good on paper. I don’t want it to look good on paper. I want our standard of excellence upheld.”
I had no idea it was this bad. “I’m so sorry.”
“And it didn’t help when Cas left,” she casually adds. “Everyone enjoyed her, even when she was being a cunt.”
“Has everyone gone nuts?”
“Pretty much,” she says as the waitress brings a bowl of dark green salad with plump ripe tomatoes and our sweet peach tea. “It’s not the same without you there or you, Dominic.”
“Did William Sands?”
“Oh, he left a year ago!” she says, dishing out plates of salad. “That is why I’m letting Terry run it.”
Taking a sip of the tea, I try not to spit. “… Terry?”
“He’s about the only young one qualified to serve the role of interim head trainer.”
“Oh, Jesus…”
“I’ll tell you, I’ve considered closing the door and calling it quits more than once because this isn’t the school Luca and I envisioned.”
The fissure in my blazing world just started spitting out ice shards. Her news hurts in a way I never expected. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say or do anything, Salvatore,” Anna calmly says. “Just please bring back my granddaughter.”
“Is there a concern with safety?”
“Hell yes! Those damn Cinco members are leeching into Little Bee and spilling over into Sugargrove. They’re causing all kinds of mischief. We’ve had graffiti painted on the front sign and windows broken by bricks.”
“Okay, this is stopping today,” I declare, hearing quite enough. “Nico, you are going home to Sugargrove.”
“I—for sure as hell—am now.”
“And Dom…”
“I will take over Terry’s position as long as you don’t mind my way of thinking. I’ll commute between Juliet and Chicago until we’re done with the business there.”
Anna laughs. “Quite frankly, your way of thinking would be a far cry from the slop we’ve been getting. Bring on the high protocol because my beloved school is turning into a seedy swingers club and not much else.”
I’m beyond pissed. “Excuse me for one minute.”
Striding to the lounge, I call the one person who can lay down the law like no other. He doesn’t answer, so I leave the message he will respond to. “D, I need a serious favor. Call me, Hoss.”
And then I call the one girl who knows me better than I know myself. “Just know I’m very angry about what you did with Mitch. I also know why you did it. You are trying to prevent the inevitable Mrs. Emily Raniero from ever happening. I don’t give a shit how anyone else feels, but I need you.”
With a long pause, she says, “What do you need?”
“I need a damn good sub willing to go help put Juliet back together again.”
“… Will you be there?”
“When I can.”
“And who is taking my secretarial position at RE?”
“Some hot temp with a bad bottle job blonde and a good rack?”
The intensity of our first conversation in months lightens as we both laugh. “I’ll pack the car tonight. Which Master am I to report to?”
“Amber, if you so much as go against me again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
“I understand,” she respectfully acknowledges. “Who am I under?”
“Me. But for now, Sir Dale.”
I end the call and grin like the devil I am.
21
Enemy Points
We
drive towards the rolling mountains of the Appalachians as I consider what we’ve become. We’re scattered like the pappus, each taking root in our own place, and quite frankly, it’s depressing as fuck. I miss the good old days when I could count on sneaking in Mierne’s back door for some impromptu milk and cookies and the best therapy could be found under the vindictive whips of Cardinal-S.
Iris was my submissive; I was her Dominant.
And Juliet and all her dreams were ours for the taking.
But neither of us was ready when we split apart in early 2015. We needed time to recover, grow, and heal. By the time we were ready, shit was going to hell in a handbasket.
We fly down the gravel road towards the cabin where I’ve kept Mierne “Miemie” Risen for over eighteen months with Ainsley Boothe. The plan is to leave Dom and I for the night while Nico drives them to Texas. I know what you’re thinking and I’ve considered the possibility as well.
Nico is hungry.
The one saving grace is Anna’s plea. I think he understands we have big problems if Juliet falls into the wrong hands. He won’t kill Mierne (or Ainsley for that matter) for one reason alone. He’s been salivating over Les Pétales for years and knows no amount of money or Daddy’s power can force Desirée Marciela Tolan Kerris to sell it. Upon her demise, it will go to the Maestro’s children with Kate Capri—Cas and Sebastian.
Juliet is far more complicated.
There are half a dozen people Anna Ford could legitimately leave the school to—Serene, Mierne, Mack, Iris, Jaid, myself, or even my daughter, Raine. Or, she could drop the whole thing into The Unholy’s hands to honor my grandfather, Luca Raniero. However, I doubt she does that because long-term collaborations rarely survive, and it would put the whole school at risk again while we battled over the trivialities.
The most dangerous one to give it to would be the Lotus Queen herself, but arguably, Iris also has the most claim to it. She endured the marriage to Anna’s son, Chance Ballister.
We veer into the driveway and stop. The front door of the cabin opens and nothing could’ve prepared me to see Mierne. I step out before Nico throws it into park.
In a long red and blue summer dress, Mierne smiles from the porch as I rush over and give her a hug. “What the hell happened to you?” She asks as I want to ask her the same thing. I note the thick leather collar surrounding her neck.
“I’ve had a hard year.”
“I did some work,” she says as I twirl my finger. She spins her new figure in front of me. She’s still curvy, but there is a lot less Mierne than there once was. “Ainsley’s been showing me the love of running.”
“Juliet is in trouble…”
Over the next few hours, we talk and eat like never before as somehow, we all manage to come together over our differences. I haven’t forgiven nor do I trust Amber or Mierne for their transgressions against The Unholy, but I’ll put the shit aside if it means helping Anna.
Somehow, in all of this, I learn to prioritize.
I don’t need to personally agree with it to know what is for the best.
Sending Amber and Mierne home to Sugargrove buys much needed time for Anna. As they sit drinking coffee after dinner, Mierne asks, “Are you going after Jack?”
“I don’t know yet…”
“If you do, please be careful,” she says, grabbing my hand.
Dom swigs back a half of a cup. “If Jack so much as comes near you, I will kill him myself.”
“I’m sorry…for everything I got wrapped up in,” she whispers, glancing with an obvious shame. “I know I did some things very wrong.” She shifts her gaze to me. “And thank you, Salvatore, for knocking me in the head when you did.”
“Who is Jack working for?”
“I don’t know for certain, but if I were to guess, I would say Javi Neves or Immortal.”
Nico nervously blinks he presses his palms together. “Not Boudreaux?”
“It could be.”
“I doubt it,” Dom adds, polishing off the cup of coffee. “Boudreaux is very much about keeping a tight-knit group, which is what we should have been doing with Juliet all this time.”
“Are you coming home?” Mierne asks me.
“I will be there as soon as possible,” I answer, not revealing any of my deep dark secrets. I don’t trust her and I mean that. But I trust her far more than Wendy Cruz. Prioritize. “I have some cases I’m working on.”
Dom imparts a curious expression like he didn’t expect to hear that from me. “We should get going,” Nico says as Ainsley gives me a hug. “I’ll go start the car.”
“Let me grab my bags,” Mierne says, walking away.
“Keep an eye on her, Agent Boothe,” I advise, smiling. “She’s still yours.”
“I will, Agent Raniero.” She winks. “And if you need some help on those cases, send them over. Fresh eyes might work wonders.”
“Did you ever know a Kali Gabbard in Chicago?”
“Yeah,” she says, pushing in her chair. “Why?”
“Is she decent?”
“For what purpose?”
“Protection?” I inquire.
“Kali was never malleable enough to be a good relief specialist, but she’s a hell of a fighter.”
“What do you mean malleable?”
“She’s very tough.”
“… As me?”
“Probably,” she volunteers as Dom studies our conversation. “She wanted to work for Gennaro, I assume to infiltrate as a decoy. He never fell for it. Said she was too...”
“… Too?”
“Butch. And harsh. And not at all what his clients would be interested in. She liked Iris though, why?”
“Wait,” I interrupt, lifting my hand. “She knew Iris?”
“In the course of the interviews with Ginger Langdon, Iris came into play.”
“Stop.” I grit my teeth. “Are you certain she was going after Gennaro or was she trying to get to Iris?”
“I don’t know,” Ainsley says. “They spoke many times, but no one ever knew. Iris would sneak out late at night.”
With her bags in tow, Mierne walks into the room. Nico assists her, and soon after, we say our goodbyes. “Behave,” I warn Nico, giving him a hug, as Ainsley takes the driver seat. I head around and whisper, “After you get home and rest, call me.”
“Will do.”
We wave goodbye as Dom and I give each other a glance. “We need to have a talk, Boston.”
On the back porch, we sit with a bottle of Disaronno between us. We’re smoking, drinking, and thinking.
He is my teacher; I am his student. He is also my friend and mentor. And his family is the biggest rival of mine.
“I’m thinking about calling it quits.”
“With?” I ask, expecting him to say Ashley Randall.
“The Gennaro family business.”
I hastily pivot towards him and light another cigarette. “… What?”
“I cannot keep fighting a losing battle, and I’m tired of wasting money trying to wage war against the Campanellis. I’m going to marry Ashley and move home to New Orleans with her and Romeo.”
With Nico’s visibility, I cannot imagine having two out in the open with offspring. It’s beyond dangerous, and we’re just asking for an accident to occur. On the other hand, I kind of admire Dom’s willingness to march into the fray. It is no less than a battle cry of Come Get Me, Fuckers.
Maybe I should’ve done it with Iris.
Envy is not a good color on me.
“You do what you need to do, Sir,” I respectfully say. “Just promise me you will be cautious in your dealings with those in the swamp.”
“I’ll be honest,” he replies, sipping on his drink. “I plan on spending a lot of time in Texas.”
“If you need to borrow Swain,” I offer, knowing my husky bodyguard is watching over Serene. “You can.”
“Where is Cruz?”
“Working with Jas and Georgia in Nebraska to find Iris,” I inform, pullin
g my chair around to study his expression. “Do you know who has her?”
“No,” he solemnly vows. “Do you?”
“Not a fucking clue,” I admit, letting the tears quietly fall on my cheeks. “I had her in Guam, and I got scared when I started thinking about Leeza Torrente’s murder.”
“That’s fair,” he concedes, reaching out to touch my hand. “This isn’t your fault. I would’ve done the same thing in your position. You need to end things with Emily.”
“I can’t…”
“You have a missing girl somewhere overseas, presumably. And a girl who gives you an insta-hard-on in Florida. You don’t love Emily like you love either of them.”
“Am I that obvious?” I ask, gripping onto my Master’s hand. “I wish I understood what this thing was with Prissy Pants…”
“Jaid…Prissy Pants, as you say, is you. There is a shared history with Kaci and she gives you the hope you thought you lost. I don’t think you are in love with her like you are Iris, but I think she is very important to you. I can tell you after working extensively with you both, separately, you are much the same in the way you approach problems. You are both pragmatic puzzle solvers. Everything is sensible, not theoretical. If it doesn’t make sense, you challenge the theory.”
“Iris was taken by someone other than the Goro gang.”
“… Is that what you believe?”
“In my gut, instinct,” I mutter, taking a drag. “Yes.”
“Then run it backwards. Go with what you know. Stop fighting the statistics rattling off in your brain about length of time missing.”
His words bring an onslaught of tears. “You know me too well.”
“Present.” The singular word he says drops me to my knees as I scoot closer. He pats his leg and I lay my head on his thigh. “And whatever you do, don’t give up on your Saint because he is the best person in the world to balance you now.”
Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) Page 17
