“Because Michael told…” I pause, blinking away the tears that suddenly fill my eyes as I recall my daughter breaking down after Michael revealed he had visited with Victor. “…he told her they had your blessing and he had asked you for her hand in marriage.”
He smiled widely as he wiped at his own eyes.
“You’ll walk her down the aisle won’t you?”
“Yes,” I promise.
He nodded.
“Get her whatever dress she wants. I don’t care what it costs, you make sure she has everything she wants. If you need extra money you go to Jack Parrish, he’ll give you whatever you need.”
“Okay, Vic,” I reply softly, watching as he looks away for a minute.
“You know I’m happy,” he whispers. “I am,” he assures me, turning around so I can look him in the eye. “I’m happy because I know that my two daughters will be taken care of, that they have men in their lives that will truly do anything to keep them happy and will love them like they deserve to be loved.”
“Yes, we’re very fortunate that our daughters have found happiness.”
“There is one girl I’m worried about though,” he confesses. “You.”
“I’m fine, Victor,” I admonish.
“No you’re not and it’s my fault. I promised to take care of you and love you all the days of my life. I vowed to share a life with you and left you to live it alone. I love you, Gracie, and I’ll never go back on that promise I made when I said I’d love you until death do us part.”
“I love you too, Victor,” I say quietly, reaching across the table to take hold of both his hands. “And our life may not have gone as we planned but I don’t regret a single thing.”
“I regret not being home as much as I should have been. I regret not enjoying the little things I took for granted, like tripping over your slippers on the way out the door or when I’d walk in and find you sleeping on the couch with a book tucked under your nose. I miss the little things, Gracie. I miss watching you sing on Sunday mornings while you made me meatballs. I really miss your meatballs,” he quips, winking at me before reaching across the table to wipe away my tears with his fingers.
“Life is too short for regrets, Vic, and while we may only have these visits now, we’ll have eternity together,” I vow.
“Grace,” he starts, dropping his hand from my face as he draws in a harsh breath.
“I mean it, Victor, I believe that with my whole heart. You have to believe it too because these visits aren’t the last of us,” I exaggerate.
“Gracie, they’re moving me again,” he says regretfully.
“What?” I swallow. “Where?”
“Down south,” he answers. “The lawyer will fill you in on all the details,” he adds as his eyes do a quick sweep of the room. “It’s the last leg of the plan.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” I hiss. “To hell with the plan!”
“Lower your voice,” he pleads.
“No, Victor, I will not. Look at you, this is it, do you realize that? You keep digging your hole and for what? Some sick vendetta?”
“I gave my word.”
“You gave your word to me thirty years ago.”
“Gracie, you’re right this is it…look at me. You see where I am? There is nothing left. I love you, as God as my witness I love you with my whole heart but I’m being transferred, and it’s for the best.”
“How can you say that? How can you tell me you love me and choose this life over that love time and time again?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure it is,” I hiss.
“Gracie…I’m dying.”
Have you ever heard someone speak but felt like you were dreaming and the words were a nightmare? You wish to wake up, you beg for it, but it doesn’t happen. You think it’s your subconscious forcing you to live through the pain and anguish of the words but it’s not and then you realize you’re living not dreaming.
The knife twists.
The hope diminishes.
And the life sentence becomes shorter.
Chapter Two
I left New York after the murder of my father, never believing I’d drag my ass back to the concrete jungle—I never wanted to. Then my mother was in a bad car accident and Victor Pastore showed up just in time to hold my hand as I pulled the plug on the life support. At the time I detested the man, blamed him for my father’s death and even my mother’s. If my old man didn’t die protecting Victor, we never would’ve moved away and she wouldn’t have been on that highway when a truck crashed into her car.
He brought me back to the streets I grew up on, the same streets he and my father ran together for nearly two decades. I never planned on sticking around and only came back to bury my mother beside my father. After the dirt settled over my parents, Victor propositioned me, trying to ease his conscience and offered me a legit job running one of his new nightclubs, Temptations.
I knew jack shit about running a night club. I was a carpenter, a man who worked with his hands and wore construction boots. I wasn’t cut from the same cloth as my father or Vic. Designer suits weren’t my thing and ties were just a noose around my neck. But then I laid eyes on Nikki, Vic’s youngest daughter, the girl who had called me Mikey ever since she was an awkward teenager with braces and frizzy hair. Actually, she called me Mikey before that, when she was just a kid following me and her sister around like a shadow.
There was nothing fucking awkward about the chain-smoking sexpot with perfectly straight teeth and lips that teased a man even when her mouth was closed. She no longer wore pigtails and fancy dresses that her mother forced upon her. She wore clothes that hugged her body, showing off her narrow waist, an ass you wanted to sink your teeth into and breasts you wanted to lay your head on. Her legs, let’s not talk about her legs and how every time I stared at them I wanted to wrap them around my waist. Fuck that, I wanted them around my neck. She had traded her ballet shoes for stilettos. I swear every pair of shoes she owns scream ‘come fuck me’.
I’m cool with that.
Since I’m the one fucking her and those sexy shoes are digging into my back night after night she wraps her legs around me.
Yeah, you guessed it, I took Vic up on his offer for the sole purpose of getting to know the girl I left behind and the woman she had become. She had a boyfriend at the time, some douchebag named Rico, who at first glance I knew he was a no good motherfucker. I had no proof though, and Nikki needed to learn that shit for herself. She needed to be the one to realize the scum that Rico was. So I did my thing, flirted with the girl I wanted, got under her skin and made her realize I wasn’t going anywhere.
The whole time I was making moves on Victor’s daughter, he and his goons were training me to be America’s Next Gangster. Well, not really, I mean they weren’t training me to whack someone. Anthony took me to some shooting range owned by a bunch of bikers and taught me how to fire a gun. The thing was I didn’t need anyone to teach me, I had my father’s blood running through my veins and that shit came as natural as breathing. I was a sure shot, just like my old man. I bet he’d be proud.
Victor wanted me to protect myself, so the piece I started carrying was just a precaution, a weapon I’d only fire if someone tried to fuck with me now that I was working for him.
Along with the loaded gun, they fitted me for the custom designer suits he and my father donned back in the day. I was a reflection of both Victor and Val, and my Timberland boots would not make the cut.
As the transformation continued, Nikki’s relationship crumbled and our friendship changed. She became my girl without becoming my girl if that makes any sense. She didn’t know it at the time, but after the night she and I hit the club scene, I realized who she belonged to.
It was the grand opening of Temptations, Nikki’s twenty-first birthday and my first night as the disco dancing gangster when everything changed.
What’s a grand celebration without
a fucking shootout?
Not a Pastore function that’s for sure.
It came to light that Rico was working Nikki the whole time, a ploy to get close to Victor and avenge some fucking shit. It was time to put my training to use and protect Nikki, shooting at anything that got in my way from getting her the fuck out of the war zone my new job had become.
When I got us out of the club, the president of the motorcycle club that owned the gun range was waiting for us. Jack Parrish and Victor Pastore worked together on several occasions, creating an alliance that benefited the streets they both loved.
Victor eventually showed up at the safe house, informing us that his organization was at war and no one was safe. He sent us to Florida, handed me Nikki’s life and told me to keep her safe. He didn’t mention he was sending me to the fucking Golden Girls. I discovered that shit when I pulled into the fucking retirement community and Vic’s sister greeted me wearing a goddamn negligee and his mother tried to shoot me with a rifle.
Even now, well over a year later, I’m standing on top of my roof, nailing down the shingles and I’m still haunted by those lunatics. Lifting my shirt up to wipe the sweat from my forehead, their voices ring in my ears.
“I swear to God, Bert, you drive like a snail on a Percocet. Get me the hell out of this car,” Gina’s voice taunts.
“I floored it on the Belt Parkway,” Bert, Gina’s seventy-year-old boy-toy argues.
“Forty miles per hour is not flooring it,” Gina shouts.
I must’ve been in the sun for too long because I hear a car door slam shut, like they weren’t miles away in the sunshine state.
“Ma, we’re here. Ma! Oh for Christ’s sake, plug in your hearing aid.”
“Grab my gun,” Red shouts. Big Red, Gina and Vic’s four foot eleven mother with fire engine red hair.
“You let her take her gun? What does she need a gun for?” Bert asks incredulously.
“You’re on our soil, boy,” Red argues. “You need to be prepared for a drive-by. Grab the gun! Shit, we forgot the cannoli’s.”
“The house looks different,” Gina comments. “Oh, hot damn! Look who it is!”
No.
No fucking way.
Come on!
I lean over the edge of the roof and I’m pretty sure my eyes fucking explode in their sockets as they land on the fucking circus parked in my driveway.
Gina’s beehive hairdo was extra fucking high, teased two feet in the air as she bats her fake eyelashes and waves up at me. I guess I should be grateful the fucking lady wasn’t wearing a bra and bloomers like the last time I saw her. Red was waving too—waving a gun.
Bert, that poor bastard was unloading the fucking car. Unloading the fucking car!
This must be what having a stroke feels like.
“Nikki,” I shout, pulling at my hair. I move to back away from the edge, desperate to erase the image of ‘Sophia and Dorothy Petrillo’ from my brain but my jeans catch on one of the nails I hadn’t yet hammered down. I tug my leg free, lose my balance and nearly falling off the fucking roof. In a last ditch effort to save my ass, I grab onto the gutter.
“Oh my God! We have a jumper,” Gina shrieks. “Mikey, baby, please! Gina’s here, we’ll get through it.”
“I’m not jumping off the roof you whack job! I saw you and I fucking slipped,” I call down to her.
“That is the sweetest thing I ever heard,” she says, elbowing Bert in the gut. “How come you never did that?”
“Hang off a roof?” Bert asks confused.
“Nikki,” I shout again. Where the hell is she?
“Jump, boy! Big Red’s got you,” Red yells, dropping her straw bag and tucking her gun into whatever cleavage she has left. She spreads her arms wide as if she is going to catch me before Gina pushes her aside and copies her stance.
“I’ve got him!”
“What the hell is going on?” Nikki questions.
I peek down at her, watching as she freezes in her tracks and takes in the fucking festivities.
“Aunt Gina. Nana. What…what are you doing here?”
“We’re here for the party,” Gina exclaims, looking over her shoulder before bringing her eyes back to me. “Mikey, did your ass get tighter since the last time I saw you?”
“What party?” Nikki asks.
“Hey, Princess, think you can help me get down from the roof before we ask the crazies anymore questions?” I holler, banging my forehead against the gutter in frustration.
“Sorry, babe! I’ll go get the ladder.”
“Boy don’t need a ladder. I’ve got my arms wide open ready to catch him,” Red insists.
The mother and daughter duo continue to bicker over who would be my savior as Nikki comes back, dragging the ladder behind her. She and Bert prop up the ladder along the side of the house and I worked my way over to it.
“Easy, baby,” Nikki calls as she holds the ladder in place and I start my descent. I did contemplate staying up on the roof thinking that a sun burn was safer than the fate that awaited me down below.
Stepping off the ladder, I turn to Nikki.
“What are they doing here?”
“I have no idea,” she hisses, plastering a smile on her face turning back to her relatives. “What a nice surprise.”
Bullshit.
“Even though my heart is broken I had to come,” Gina explains, reaching for Nikki’s left hand and inspecting the ring I put on her finger. “You did good, Mikey,” she approves, turning Nikki’s hand every which way to look at the diamond from every angle. “That’s some rock. Ma, come look at the rock,” she orders.
Wiping my hands over my face as Red scurries over, I blow out a ragged breath and watch the old lady snatch Nikki’s hand.
“Did you get it appraised? I know a guy who can do an insurance job. You give me the ring we’ll say the house was robbed and you can collect.”
I drop my hands from my face and stare at the little old lady.
Now I know where Vic got his ways from.
“Thanks, Nana, but I’m going to hang onto it for a little while,” Nikki says, turning to Bert and eyeing the suitcases. I saw the horror flash in her eyes and I chuckle to myself. At least she wasn’t three stories up on the roof when she realized these clowns were planning on a long visit, one that involved five suitcases.
“Um…so…you guys planning on a long visit?” Nikki croaks.
“Long enough to stay for the wedding,” Gina reveals.
“We haven’t set a date,” I blurt out.
“Better get on that, boy,” Red says, patting my back. “We didn’t drive all the way here just for the engagement party.”
“What engagement party? What are you people talking about?”
“You can’t get engaged and not have a party,” Gina answers. “Bert, bring the bags inside the house.”
“Bert, drop the bags or so help me God, I’ll drop you!” I point to him, giving him a deadly glare to emphasize my words.
Nikki threads her arm through mine and smiles at our unexpected guests.
“Can you guys give us a minute?” She asks, pulling me toward the stoop and dragging me up the stairs.
“They’re not staying here, princess. It’s them or me! I swear,” I growl as she pulls me inside the house.
“Calm down,” she asserts as she laces her fingers around the belt loops of my jeans, tugging me closer to her. “It’s kind of cute they came all this way because we’re getting married, don’t you think?”
“No, nothing they do is cute. They’re fucking bat-shit crazy. Even Bert has started acting like them,” I argue, narrowing my eyes as she moves her hands to the hem of my t-shirt and starts to work it up over my stomach.
“Yes, they’re crazy but they’re family, Mikey,” she says, lifting my arms up and pulling my shirt over my head. She reaches around me and locks the door before she takes a step back and starts to unbutton her shirt.
“Trying to make you forget that my aunt has the hots for you and my grandma is itching to shoot someone?”
“You forgot Bert.”
“Poor Bert, he’s innocent in all this,” she adds, dropping her shirt to the floor before reaching behind her and unsnapping her bra.
“They can’t stay here, Nikki. I’m not strong enough to go another round with your aunt. I still have nightmares about her teddies.
A giggle escapes her mouth as her bra falls to the floor.
“I’ll call my mother, tell her to come pick them up but, first things first,” she coos, crooking her finger as she mischievously winks at me.
“You want something, Princess?” I grunt, reaching for the zipper on my jeans. I watch her turn around and shimmy out of her shorts, revealing her perfectly round ass, inch by glorious inch. She steps out of the shorts and snaps the elastic of her thong against her hip as she peers over her shoulder at me.
“I think you know what I want, Mikey,” she teases, walking over to the couch. Bending over, she shoves her ass in the air and braces her arms against the back of the cushions.
“Goddamn, Princess,” I ground out, moving behind her, smacking her ass with the back of my hand. My hands travel up her curves and around to squeeze her tits.
“The question is, are you going to give me what I want?” She taunts, wiggling her ass against my crotch. I release her breasts and push my pants down my thighs freeing my cock.
“Say it, Nikki, give me the words and I’ll give you what you want,” I hiss, stroking my cock with one hand and slipping my finger beneath the elastic of her thong with my other hand, pulling the fabric away from her.
“Fuck me, Mikey,” she demands, spreading her legs wide and lifting her ass higher.
My princess didn’t have to ask me twice.
I grab her hips and bury my cock into her pussy, stretching her wide as I slam my dick deep inside of her.
“That’s what I like,” she cries out, pressing her ass against me as I reach around her and grab her tits, rolling her nipples between my fingers. My hips crash against her ass, as my cock works her wet cunt.
Eternal Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 6) Page 2
