John + Siena: The Complete Duet

by Bethany-Kris

  She didn’t go inside, though. Instead, she went further out onto the restaurant’s main floor. At first, she considered just leaving the restaurant while she had the chance. The enforcer still sitting in the car outside the place told her that wouldn’t be a very good idea.

  Siena let out a hard breath. Her gaze darted over the room, and then to the kitchen.

  The phone in there, maybe.

  It was worth a shot.

  As long as she got a call out, then the rest didn’t matter. She would deal with whatever came her way from her brothers.

  She only needed to make a single goddamn call.

  Siena darted for the kitchen. The landline hanging on the wall was a godsend. She picked it up, and dialed the only Marcello phone number she knew.

  John’s.

  It rang and rang.

  Her heart grew heavy.

  Seconds passed.

  The call went to voicemail.

  Siena cursed, and tried again.

  More ringing.

  More nothing.

  The sickness in her stomach damn near climbed up her throat, and threatened to spill out onto the floor. She tried one last time, but again, she got no response.

  Siena didn’t know if that was because John refused to take a call from her, or if he couldn’t. The very thought of that almost made her puke, too.

  She hung up the phone with a little more force than she meant to.

  Think. You’re not stupid, so figure this out.

  Her thoughts taunted her.

  The dark kitchen stared back at her. The chef made sure to clean his space thoroughly before leaving for the night. Hanging above the stainless-steel counter was a row of frying pans, skillets, and more. A deep-dish frying pan caught her eye.

  Siena hesitated.

  She was not violent.

  She did not do this kind of thing.

  But for John?

  Rules did not apply.

  She grabbed the deep-dish pan, and gave it a second look when she realized how substantially heavy it was in her palm. Really, she didn’t have the time to second guess which pan to use. She headed out of the kitchen, and tried to keep her footsteps light as she crossed the main floor again. She had only rounded the corner nearing the hallway when she heard her brothers talking again.

  “I don’t know what this is,” Darren said.

  “These aren’t even numbers. It’s just a damn mess. Go get her.”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  Siena quickly darted into the women’s bathroom. Holding that pan back as far as she could over her shoulder, she waited for the bathroom door to open.

  When it did swing inward, she closed her eyes and let the pan go.

  The sound it made when it cracked against Darren’s forehead was sickening. It nearly matched the way his body slumped forward, and fell head first into the tiled floor.

  “Darren?” Kev called.

  The bathroom door wouldn’t shut completely. Darren’s body—he was knocked out entirely—was in the way.

  Siena stepped over her brother, not sure if she should be happy that he was still breathing, and moved into the hallway. She took a couple of steps until she was just outside the office.

  Kev appeared in the doorway.

  She swung the pan again. Kev wasn’t like Darren. She had to hit him twice before he stayed down. She didn’t bother to check if he was still breathing, too.

  Siena made sure to grab both of their cell phones, and cut the wires to the landlines before she left the restaurant from the back exit.

  How much of a head start did she have?

  That was the million-dollar question.

  Siena had too much riding on it to lose.

  The taxi driver glared when Siena tossed a handful of bills over his shoulder to pay for the ride. She wasn’t even sure if it was enough money to pay the man. She didn’t particularly care at the moment, either.

  “Don’t leave yet,” she said. “I may need you again.”

  His shout echoed at her back when she jumped out of the back of the car, and to the sidewalk. She took the stairs leading into the entrance of a familiar restaurant two at a time.

  Andino Marcello’s restaurant.

  The place looked like it was closed. The business hours hung from a sign on the door, taunting her further. Not one single light was turned on inside, and she could see the tables had been cleared. The chairs were all upturned on the tops of the tables, too. The front door was locked when she tried to pull it open.

  Shit.

  She yanked and yanked on the door until a sob broke through her chest.

  Fuck.

  Why did it have to be like this?

  Why couldn’t one single thing go right for her tonight?

  “Siena?”

  Siena turned fast on her heels to face a blonde she recognized. Haven. The woman climbed the restaurant steps quickly until she was just a foot away.

  Salvation stared Siena in the face.

  “What are you doing here?” Haven asked.

  “Where is Andino?”

  She didn’t have time for small talk.

  She didn’t have time to explain.

  “He was here working in the office,” Haven said. “But he got called out a while ago.”

  “Where is he now?”

  Haven glanced away. “Why?”

  Siena could tell just by the look in Haven’s eyes that the woman didn’t want to give up any information about Andino. Maybe she had been told not to, or something.

  It really didn’t matter in that moment.

  “Let me guess, you’re not supposed to trust me either, right?”

  “Well—”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Siena hissed, heading back down the stairs. “John is in trouble.”

  “John?”

  Haven’s quiet question made Siena’s footsteps falter. She hesitated, and glanced over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, John.”

  “Andino is a couple of blocks away. I guess John’s father called. He took off.”

  “John did?” Siena asked.

  Haven nodded. “Yeah. Earlier.”

  Oh, God, no.

  Siena didn’t have time to go somewhere else yet again. She couldn’t chase people all over the city in hopes that she would finally find someone who would actually listen to her, believe what she said, and help.

  Her brothers had said it. Tonight was the night.

  They didn’t say John’s name, but what they had said had been more than enough to make Siena believe that’s who they meant.

  Which meant he was probably heading to her father’s place now.

  Siena turned back on Haven. “Please, tell them John is at my father’s home.”

  Haven swallowed hard. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, Andino will never forgive you when they finally get John’s body back from my family.”

  The blonde stilled in place like a statue with a gaze full of ice.

  Siena was already heading back down the stairs. “I can’t chase them. I have to help John instead.”

  Behind her, Haven called out, “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

  Siena laughed.

  The only thing she regretted at the moment was being born a Calabrese.

  Siena didn’t recognize the black Mercedes SUV that had been left running on the side of the road in front of her parents’ brownstone. The taxi driver pulled away from the curb, still pissed that this time, she had all but thrown a handful of credit cards at the back of his head.

  Her mother’s car was not parked in the driveway beside Matteo’s tan-colored Suburban. She wasn’t surprised about that. Her father often sent her mother away for the night when he planned to do business inside the brownstone.

  Coraline never questioned Matteo.

  She never refused him.

  The perfect little mob wife.

  Siena found the brownstone was unlocked. She opened the door with a caref
ul hand, not wanting to make more noise than was necessary.

  She had no idea what she might walk in to. She didn’t know what to expect just beyond the front door.

  Surprisingly, she found the foyer and front hallway empty and dark. Her father’s boots and coat rested in their usual spot, while her mother’s belongings were missing. Further proving her belief that Coraline was not home at all.

  Even the kitchen and living room were dark and lifeless. The counters were spotless, and nothing was out of place. It almost made her wonder if her mother had been home at all as it didn’t look like someone had even cooked supper.

  Siena didn’t go to the back of the house on the bottom floor because she didn’t hear anything coming from that direction. Nothing was really back there, anyway, and her father always had his meetings in his office upstairs.

  Would he kill Johnathan in his home?

  Would he risk doing something like that where his wife might come home and see?

  A memory stood out to Siena. One deep in the recesses of her mind from when she was just a child. A loud noise had woken her from bed one night when she was barely five, and scared her to death because of the moaning that followed.

  The next morning, she remembered watching her mother cover a reddish-brown stain on the living room carpet with another decorative carpet. Before the day was out, the carpet had been ripped up and replaced with hardwood flooring. Any carpets in the home had been replaced as to not have a similar incident occur.

  No one ever spoke about it.

  No one ever explained what happened.

  Siena figured she knew.

  And it answered her own question.

  Yes, her father would kill here.

  No, he would not care.

  Siena was on the second floor of the brownstone when she first heard their voices echoing from one floor higher.

  Her father.

  And John.

  “Of course, you can trust me,” her father said. “I wanted you to understand, Johnathan, how they see you. Like the dirty little secret they have to hide. I didn’t hide it. Doesn’t that say you can trust me?”

  John’s answering words made her heart miss a beat. “More than them?”

  “Far more than them, Johnathan.”

  No, he couldn’t.

  He couldn’t trust Matteo at all.

  Siena picked up the pace, and took the last stairwell two steps at a time. She was sure her footsteps would be heard, but that was exactly what she wanted.

  Maybe …

  God, maybe, Matteo would not kill in front of her. Maybe her presence would be the one and only saving grace for John.

  She didn’t know.

  But she had to try.

  More conversation drifted down from the office, giving Siena a bit of hope that she still had a few seconds left to spare. Siena ran from the top of the stairs, and down the hall when her father’s voice rang out first.

  “Loyalty is hard to come by in this life. You need to take it from those who have always proven they’re willing to give it to you.”

  “Every Marcello knows loyalty doesn’t come from a Calabrese,” Johnathan replied. “You forgot that even though I bleed Grovatti blood, I’ve always been a Marcello man.”

  Bang.

  The gunshot was so loud that Siena flinched. The scream caught in her throat as she rounded the doorway to her father’s office.

  She thought for sure …

  Every part of her believed …

  A gun fell from John’s hand.

  Her father bled out as his body slumped over the desk. Blood trickled in a thick stream from the circular wound in his forehead.

  John looked over his shoulder.

  Siena stared back, unafraid.

  “I’m not sorry.”

  Didn’t he know?

  “You don’t ever have to be, John.”

  He never had to apologize to her.

  Not for himself.

  Siena stayed close to John in the bed. His features were relaxed, telling her that he had finally slipped into a deep sleep.

  She had never seen him so out of it before.

  It had only been those brief few seconds in her father’s office when he had seemed lucid and understood what was happening around him. And then as easily as his mind was clear and right, he was lost again to some place she couldn’t bring him back from.

  It had only been his father and cousin’s arrival minutes later that saved John from doing something else he might have regretted later.

  Siena made only one demand.

  Take him to his own home. Let him wake up in his bed. Somewhere he would recognize instantly. A place that was comforting and familiar to him. He would have chosen his own home, she knew.

  Lucian had agreed to bend to that one demand. He didn’t give her much else, though.

  “You know,” came a voice from the doorway, “it isn’t usually this exciting with John.”

  She found John’s father standing there watching her. She didn’t care how she looked resting beside John while he slept, and stroking his face.

  This is where she wanted to be.

  So, she didn’t move.

  “Oh?” she asked.

  Lucian chuckled dryly. “No, these episodes have become less and less frequent over the years, and not nearly as severe as they once were. Maybe that’s why when they do happen, they take us all by surprise.”

  “When was the last severe one?”

  She thought she knew the answer.

  But she wanted to be sure, too.

  “Over three years ago.” Lucian leaned against the doorjamb, adding, “And before that, four years. Sure, he’s gone into a hypomanic stage—the hyperactivity, lots of energy, and highly productive—but recognized what was happening and got it under control before it worsened. I think this was a mixture of a lot of things for John. Too many changes in his life at once, and trying to push through it regardless.

  “One part of it, anyway,” Lucian continued. “His family plays a big role. Maybe more than some of us want to admit.”

  “How so?”

  She felt like these were important things for her to know. Her only goal after this was to be the one thing—the one person—whom John could depend on, no matter what. No one would ever hurt him or do to him again what had been done to him this time.

  She would make sure of it.

  “He often says we smother him, or make him feel as though he can’t take care of himself,” Lucian said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “We do things that seem as though we’re taking away his control, or managing his life for him. We know he can handle it—he’s been on his own since he was eighteen. Still, we’re always waiting for that next episode, and I think he knows that, too. And so, he pushes away from us, and stays on the outskirts of our lives where we can’t come close enough to touch his. We have things to change, too.”

  Siena nodded. “I can understand that.”

  “Does that … bother you?”

  “That this sort of thing is a possibility?” she asked back.

  Lucian shrugged.

  “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

  John’s father stared at her for a long while before he nodded, and then pushed away from the door. “I have to make some calls, Siena. We’re downstairs if you need us.”

  Alone with John again, Siena settled back into the bed. She tucked her body in closer to his, and wished sleep would take her under, too.

  Reality kept her wide awake.

  What was going to happen now?

  How would things change for them now?

  Siena didn’t know how long she had been lost to her thoughts before another form darkened the doorway. This time, it was Andino.

  “Siena.”

  She glanced his way. “What?”

  “Someone is here for you.”

  She straightened in the bed. “Who?”

  “I assume he’s one of your father’s men. Or, was. Either way, he says Kev has sent fo
r you.”

  Andino’s dry, flat replies bothered Siena in a way she couldn’t explain. Her heart thudded hard in her throat.

  “Understand,” Andino said, “that we don’t have a choice but to hand you back over to them right now.”

  Her eyes prickled with tears.

  “But why?”

  Andino stared hard at the floor. “We’re unprotected at the moment. We thought about John, but didn’t prepare for anything else. We don’t have a choice.”

  Siena’s gaze drifted from John, and then back to Andino. “What will happen if I don’t go?”

  “They have several vehicles outside at the moment. We can safely assume each one has a driver, obviously, but likely more. What do you think?”

  No.

  Her heart broke all over again.

  “I’m sorry,” Andino murmured.

  Siena shook her head, and quickly wiped away the tears that slipped down over her cheeks. “No, it’s okay.”

  It really wasn’t.

  She could only imagine what life was going to be like for her once she left this house. She had not only attacked her brothers in order to help John, but also betrayed her own family. They had probably found her father’s body by now, and put things together seeing as how they found her with John.

  This was bad.

  For her, it was going to be really bad.

  Moving off the bed, Siena headed for the door with slow steps. Every single inch of her screamed to turn back around, and hide in the bed with John.

  At the door, Andino stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “This isn’t over,” he told her. “Know that this is only temporary.”

  “I don’t know anything, Andino.”

  All she wanted was John.

  Andino nodded once. “We’ll finish this.”

  She didn’t ask how.

  She didn’t want to know.

  “How fast?” she asked.

  “That, I don’t know.”

  Siena looked back at John. “They can’t ever hurt him like that again, Andino. No one can ever hurt him or use his own mind against him ever again.”

  The man stared at her for a long while, saying nothing. Like maybe he had found something he hadn’t even been looking for.

  Siena knew what it was.

  Loyalty.