by Jane Henry
Elena laughed and put up her hands in surrender. “Enough. God. I have two children of my own to manage, I can’t handle the two of you, too.”
“I feel your pain, Elena,” Dom said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table, next to his wife, Heidi. His face was serious, but his eyes were twinkling. “It’s hard being the polite sibling, isn’t it?”
From his seat on the other side of Allie, Dom’s twin Matteo scoffed. “You were never the polite one of the three of us. That was Tony.”
“What was Tony?” Tony asked, coming to the table with a huge platter of something that smelled delicious.
“The kiss-ass, polite Angelico brother,” Matteo answered, leaning over to inspect the platter and groaning appreciatively. “That chicken parm?”
“Why yes, indeed it is, Matt,” Tony informed him with overstated politeness, as Tess, who was very pregnant, set down an enormous bowl of pasta next to the chicken. “And someone had to make up for the two of you. Matteo was out playing football and chasing cheerleaders, and Dom spent all his free time up in his bedroom pretending to read while actually plotting world domination or some shit. One of us had to wear the halo, Grace.” He heaved a long-suffering sigh and shot Grace a quick smile.
“And it’s such an attractive halo, honey,” Tess said, kissing Tony’s cheek affectionately, while Matteo made a gagging noise and Nora giggled.
“You know, I can totally see that scenario,” Heidi said seriously. “To this day, my husband plots domination… just on a slightly smaller scale.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it, babe,” Paul said, pulling out the chair next to Heidi’s and giving Dom an appreciative fist-bump before he sat down.
“Wait, what did I miss?” Paul’s boyfriend John asked, setting garlic bread and salad on the table before taking his seat next to Paul. “Who’s gotta do what?”
“Somebody’s gotta plot domination,” Hillary scoffed, rolling her eyes across the table at John.
John blinked. “You all plot it, huh? Figures. And here I thought you all just made it up as you went along.”
Paul snorted and laid his arm across the back of John’s chair.
Grace sidled her chair closer to Donnie’s and he instinctively leaned toward her.
“Are you all… you know?” she asked softly.
“Dominants and submissives?” he whispered back.
She nodded, a blush staining her cheeks.
“Yup. All different flavors, and the dynamic functions differently for each of us, but… essentially? Yeah.”
Grace nodded again, looking around the table. He could practically hear the gears whirling around in her mind, and would pay big money to know exactly how she was responding to this newfound knowledge. She’d seemed more than a little aroused and intrigued last night. The memory made his cock grow uncomfortably hard in his pants.
She deserves more than you’ve got, he reminded himself. You’ll do what you need to do to keep her safe, even if that means taking care of shit with Mikey, and even if that means spanking her ass. And then… you’ve gotta let her go live her own life, make her own choices.
Donnie made himself sit back, putting some distance between himself and Grace, but her unique fragrance still filled his nostrils.
Tony brought the wine to the table, and everyone took their seats before Hillary spoke up.
“Are we missing someone?” she asked, pointing to the empty chair near the middle of the table.
“We do have one more coming,” Blake said. “He’ll be joining us later.”
At Donnie’s confused frown, Slay spoke up. “Diego. Diego Santiago. He has some relevant information about the situation, and I wanted him to meet with us.”
Down at the end of the table, Nora’s head went back in surprise, but for Grace’s sake, Donnie forced himself not to react outwardly to the news.
For the past few years, Diego Santiago had been undercover as a lieutenant for a cartel boss named Chalo Salazar, who’d done his best to make trouble for The Club and its members over the years. If Diego had relevant information, that meant Salazar was involved. And if Salazar was involved…. Fuck. The situation had just gone from bad to worse, much worse.
Blake cleared his throat. “So, what was Donnie teasing you about, babe?” he asked Elena, breaking the sudden anxious silence that had settled over the table. “Do I need to defend your honor?”
“Yes! He said I’m old,” Elena accused, playing along.
Blake laughed. “Don’t listen to a word he says, gorgeous. If you were any younger, they’d arrest me.”
The whole table chuckled at this. The fact that Blake was twenty-five years Elena’s senior had been a major factor that had kept them apart for months. Any fool could see how solid their relationship was, and how perfectly they completed each other, but their age difference had remained a running joke.
“You know, Blake, I think you may have to call Don out after all,” Slay said, grabbing the platter of garlic bread that Allie handed him and putting a large slice on his plate before passing the platter to Grace.
Grace glanced from Slay to Donnie in confusion.
“Yeah?” Blake asked mildly, cutting into his chicken. “Pistols at dawn?”
“Yup. If you ask me, it sounded like Donnie was coming on to your woman,” Slay maintained, shooting a wink in Grace’s direction so she’d know he was kidding.
“By calling her old? You don’t think my game’s smoother than that?” Donnie asked, helping himself to chicken as the platter was passed in his direction.
“I’m just saying, it’s an established fact that you have a thing for old ladies,” Slay said around a mouthful of pasta. “Something about the senior citizens must really rev your engine.”
The entire table burst out laughing. Matteo, in particular, laughed so loudly that he choked on his wine and Hillary had to whack him on the back.
Grace smiled, but looked at Donnie with wide, confused eyes.
Donnie sighed and aimed a sour glance at Slay. “If you’re gonna bring that up, you’d better explain,” he growled at the other man. “Before Grace thinks I’m a total freak.”
Though he was pretty sure Grace knew enough about his kink to determine that already.
“Oh, brother, I’m happy to,” Slay said, and he proceeded to regale the table with the tale of New Year’s Eve a few years back, and the crush that Slay’s elderly neighbor, Miss Betty, had developed on Donnie.
“She was whacking his ass, telling him to dance for her,” Matteo interjected at the end, while Dom choked into his napkin and John buried his head in Paul’s shoulder, practically crying with laughter. Their merriment was so loud, it woke Blake and Elena’s infant daughter, Alessia, who stared around, blinking sleepily at everyone before giggling.
Donnie watched the play of emotions on Grace’s face as she listened. Confusion, followed by bright laughter and then deep contentment. He could see how comfortable she’d already let herself become with this group, and it made him wish that this thing between them could be permanent somehow.
Maybe…
But before long, Tony had cleared the table of food and served up platters of creamy, flaky cannoli, and the sound of a buzzer from the rear delivery door announced Diego’s arrival.
“Diego, my brother,” Slay said, rising from the table to greet his friend with a handshake the moment the man walked into the room.
Diego was tall and muscular in a lean, rangy way and his golden skin was several shades darker than the last time Donnie had seen him. He strode forward with loose-limbed grace and raked his black hair off his forehead in a casual gesture that belied the way his dark eyes cased the room. Even as he returned the handshake and clapped Slay on the shoulder, Donnie was confident Diego had already mapped the location of every exit and available piece of cover, and had already calculated and ranked the most dangerous people in the room. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but ingrained habit. Proper training was permanent training, after all. It was
exactly what Donnie himself would do.
“You been spending time on the beach, man?” Tony joked, clearly referring to Diego’s tan as he stood up to give the man his own handshake.
“Something like that,” Diego agreed. “I was doing some work in Miami until two days ago.” He exchanged a pointed look with Slay, who nodded as though giving his approval for Diego to speak.
Diego walked to the table and raised his hand in greeting, exchanging pleasantries with everyone. He seemed to hesitate when he glanced at Nora, who pointedly refused to look back at him, but a small, amused smirk played around his mouth as he took the empty seat.
The man seemed uncomfortable with so many people around, even knowing they were all friendly, and Donnie found himself wondering what Diego had seen and done in his years undercover… And wondering how he, himself, might have been different if he hadn’t gotten out of Mikey’s crew when he had.
Diego’s eyes found Grace across the table. “Hola. You must be Miss Diaz,” he said softly. His Spanish accent was pronounced, and Donnie wondered if it was natural or an affectation he’d gained undercover. Either way, he didn’t like the sound of Grace’s name on the man’s lips.
“Hola. Mucho gusto de conocerte,” Grace answered politely. And though Donnie remembered enough from his high school Spanish classes to know that she’d merely said it was nice to meet Diego, something uncomfortably similar to jealousy snaked its way down Donnie’s spine over this reminder that Grace and Diego shared a common language.
Without pausing to think about the statement he was making or what it revealed, Donnie slung his arm across the back of Grace’s chair and leaned closer to her, so that his cheek nearly touched her soft, dark hair.
Diego’s eyes met his, and the man nodded minutely, as though accepting Donnie’s claim.
Then Diego smiled sadly.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, mamita,” Diego told Grace softly, and the vaguely unsettled feeling in Donnie’s stomach solidified into solid concrete even before Diego concluded, “Unfortunately, in the circles where I travel, that’s not a good thing.”
“You heard about Mikey taking her as payback?” Donnie asked, his voice a low and dangerous growl that defied anyone to argue with him. “He thinks he’s gonna auction her off or some shit.”
Diego nodded. “Least, that’s how Mikey’s spinning it for folks.”
Baby Alessia seemed to feel the tension in the room, because she let out a long, heartbroken wail. Elena stood and walked the baby around the table to soothe her.
“That’s the spin? What’s the truth?” Matteo demanded, putting his arm around Hillary’s shoulders.
“Well… You all know that Pedro Diaz is in the hole to Mikey, right? And Mikey’s saying the debt’s a cool three-quarters of a mil?” Diego asked, his eyes bouncing between Slay, Matteo, Blake, and Donnie.
Donnie nodded, and saw answering nods from the other men. But Grace gasped.
“Holy… Holy shit! Three-quarters of… I knew he was in debt but… Are you kidding me?” Her eyes were wild as she looked at Donnie. “How could he get that far in? Mama and I barely have enough to cover our monthly rent!”
“Calmete, mamita,” Diego said, holding up a placating hand. “Your brother stole that money from Mikey.”
“And he said he paid it back,” Donnie interjected.
“He did? Pedro repaid him?” Grace asked hopefully, and Diego nodded.
“He did,” Diego confirmed. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. The damage was already done. Mikey’s demanding the same amount again as interest.”
Grace closed her eyes and sighed, and Donnie pulled her closer to nestle against his chest.
“I don’t get it,” Allie piped up. “If the money’s all been repaid…”
“Fear,” Diego explained with ruthless calm. “See, men don’t work for guys like Mikey or Chalo Salazar just for the money. They might start out that way, sure, if they’re young and stupid. But eventually, all the money in the world isn’t enough to justify the twisted shit they’re asked to do.” Diego’s eyes were bleak. “That’s where the fear comes in.”
He looked up and down the table before continuing. “It’s all about maintaining his reputation. Making sure everyone in the neighborhood knows how dangerous it would be to stand up to him by making an example of guys who fuck up. Sometimes a boss makes sure he has very specific evidence on his guys.”
“That’s what happened with Pedro,” Grace admitted, folding her arms around herself. “Mikey has enough evidence to get Pedro thrown in jail for a long, long time.”
Diego nodded, unsurprised. “But he’s not likely to use it. The Feds would turn Pedro in a second and forgive his crimes if he testified against Mikey. No, Mikey needs to make a more personal statement… and that’s where you come in,” he told Grace. “Even if Pedro showed up on Mikey’s doorstep tomorrow with seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Mikey wouldn’t let you go. He’s using you to prove a point to his other guys in his crew, and everyone else in the neighborhood.”
“So he’s auctioning her?” Blake demanded. “How the hell does that work?”
“The sex trade is unfortunately very much alive in Boston and everywhere else in the world,” Diego said with a sigh, running both hands through his hair. “People, primarily women, but not always, are sold like property every fucking day.”
“That’s sick!” Nora spat, no doubt remembering how she’d been kidnapped and held by one of Chalo Salazar’s guys years ago, before being rescued by Diego himself.
“It’s awful,” Elena agreed grimly, patting the fussy baby’s back as she circled the table, and Donnie wondered whether any of the women she’d counseled at Centered had been victims of this type of crime.
Diego continued, shooting an apologetic glance at Grace, “But you know an auction wouldn’t generate the kind of money that Mikey is claiming Pedro owes him.”
Grace blinked, but it was Slay at the other end of the table who called Diego out. “It’s time to spill what you know, brother.”
“It’s complicated.” Diego’s eyes met Donnie’s, and burned with an intensity that said Diego had seen far more horror than he’d ever, ever discuss. “First off, Chalo Salazar has a brand new high-powered attorney, who’s managed to get his parole approved. He’s being released from prison next week.”
A buzz ran up and down the length of the table. Chalo Salazar’s name was well-known and much loathed by the people at this table. The asshole and his goons had hurt Hillary, Nora, Allie, and Blake over the years. Donnie watched as Matt, Tony, and Slay settled their wives closer to them, reassuring them with physical contact. Heidi rose to take the baby from Elena’s arms, and Elena gave her a grateful smile before going to sit by Blake.
Diego finished, “And Mikey’s planning for Grace to be his prize when he gets back to town.”
Donnie pulled Grace so tightly against him that she squeaked. “Like fuck she is.”
The other man nodded once, in absolute agreement. “No way, man. But like I said, the situation’s complicated now. I’ve spent the last few months securing Chalo’s interests in Miami and… elsewhere,” Diego continued, clearly reluctant to give too much information. “And I can tell you that things are not good in Chalo’s world. The organization Chalo thought he’d return to from prison looks very different from the one he left.”
“My heart breaks for him,” John said bitterly, and Diego gave the man a ghost of a smile.
“Unfortunately for Chalo’s men, when things aren’t good, it means people get dead. And that’s exactly what’s been happening.”
“Jesus,” Tony breathed.
“Hector Montero was Salazar’s top lieutenant, his second-in-command before Salazar ended up in prison. With Salazar locked up, Monterro took control of the organization. Did things his own way. No petty, vindictive bullshit for Hector, which is why The Club and all of you have been off their radar for the past couple years. The man’s no angel, let me assure you
. But he’s no Chalo Salazar.”
Donnie nodded. In the dark world where he’d grown up, there were those who were simply selfish assholes out to make money, and those, like his cousin, who seemed to take a psychotic pleasure in wielding power and torturing others. Both were criminals, but the first type was eminently preferable to the second.
Diego continued, “But Hector Montero went missing a few weeks back. We assumed it was the usual type of power grab that happens when an organization reorganizes around a major event, like Chalo’s release. Lieutenants who were loyal to Chalo and the old order want to make sure that Monterro isn’t going to challenge Chalo’s authority once he’s out. But Hector’s disappearance means there’s a power vacuum in the Salazar camp, and Mikey’s capitalizing on that. He’s stepping in and trying to prove his loyalty to Chalo. Trying to get himself an ‘in’ with an organization whose reach is even broader than his own.”
“And how does Grace fit into this?” Donnie growled, although he was afraid he understood all too clearly
“Chalo Salazar has a documented preference for young, innocent, beautiful women,” Diego confirmed with a sigh, shooting a brief glance at Nora. “She’s Mikey Nolan’s welcome home gift to Chalo. Mikey’s promised to deliver her to Chalo the night after his release. If Mikey doesn’t come through… well. Let’s just say breaking promises is never a good way to start out a relationship.”
Diego shrugged and Donnie got the feeling that there was more to the story than the other man would share at this point. He felt frustration boil beneath his skin, and could think of no good outlet. He wanted to lock Grace in his apartment, and simultaneously send her as far away from Chalo and Mikey as possible. Although if Diego’s assessment of the situation was fair, Mikey was about to have a far longer reach than Slay’s contacts did, and Donnie had no way of assuring Grace’s safety, even if she agreed to let him send her away.
Fuck.
Donnie clenched his hands into fists. This situation was so far out of his control, it wasn’t funny. He’d believed the solution would involve neutralizing Mikey, and although he hadn’t fully admitted to himself just how far he’d go, Donnie had been ready to wade in and make that happen, by whatever means necessary. But now it seemed that fucking Chalo Salazar was also trying to make a claim on his Grace. No fucking way.
