The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “What’re you sorry for, sweetheart?” his voice sounded hoarse.

  “Pie,” I paused, glancing over my shoulder at the desserts that lined the shelf. “We don’t have cherry pie,” I turned and dropped my gaze back to my pad.

  “Then I’ll take whatever you have to give,” he said, in a tone I couldn’t describe but one that had me lifting my head again.

  “The blueberry is fresh,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll take it,” he responded instantly.

  I nodded and turned around to grab the man a slice of pie. I placed the plate in front of him and reached over to the seat beside him and took the silverware off the placemat. I handed him the fork and his fingers brushed mine as he took it. My body stirred and vibrated at the slight touch and I snatched my hand back.

  “Enjoy,” I mumbled, grabbing the rag from beneath the counter to wipe the surface clean to busy myself.

  “Name’s Jack,” he offered, breaking off a corner of his pie and stabbing it with his fork.

  I didn’t ask his name, and I wasn’t willing to share mine with him.

  “Reina,” I responded, defying myself.

  “Reina,” he repeated, as he brought his fork to his mouth and took a bite. As he chewed his eyes met mine. At least he was well-mannered enough not to talk with his mouth full. I hated that. I watched his throat as he swallowed. “Pretty name.”

  “Thank you,” I said nervously. “Is there anything else I can get you?” I asked, as he dug into the pie for another bite. His hand paused, and he dropped his fork piercing me with a look.

  “You want to get rid of me?”

  I felt my cheeks heat and I shook my head quickly. “No, please, I’m sorry.”

  “Five weeks,” he clipped.

  “Excuse me?” I questioned, swallowing hard

  “Five weeks I’ve been coming in here and tonight is the first time you actually looked at me.”

  “I…”

  “Five weeks and just finding out now your eyes are brown,” he interrupted. “I’m not a real patient man, Reina. That’s a long fucking time to realize that the girl who pours me a cup of coffee almost every night has sad brown eyes.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I pursed my lips together. I knew he could see through me. I felt it down in my bones and he had just confirmed it.

  “Pretty girl like you should smile once in a while,” he added.

  “I don’t have a reason to smile,” I replied quickly, delivering the only truth I knew.

  “Pity,” he said. “Almost makes me want to give you one.”

  “Jack,” I said, his name sounding strange coming from my mouth.

  “What’re you hiding from, Reina?” he pushed.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I said, feeling every bit defensive.

  “No, I suppose it’s not,” he whispered. His gaze lingering on me for a moment before he picked up his fork again and quietly ate his pie.

  I cleaned the counter.

  Then cleaned it again.

  A couple came in and I handed them their menus.

  I kept my head down and hid from them. They didn’t care. They didn’t even grant me a second glance but the man behind me, sitting at the counter, his eyes never left me.

  Jack.

  Familiar and foreign.

  I gripped the edge of the counter with one hand and with the other I slapped my hip, hoping to kill the tingling sensation at my side before my leg went numb. It happened now and then, the pins and needles that traveled from my hip down to my thigh. It was more irritating than it was uncomfortable but it was something I’d learned to live with.

  It was all that was left, the only thing that reminded me of a time when I used to smile. But it also reminded me I’d never smile again.

  I sighed and pushed myself, trying to hide my limp as I regained feeling in my leg. I grabbed the coffee pot and turned around to refill his mug, but he was gone. His plate was empty and a fifty-dollar bill was tucked neatly underneath it. I lifted my head and peered out the window as he revved the engine of his motorcycle and peeled out of the lot.

  He’d be back.

  Tomorrow night.

  And the night after that.

  And maybe we’d have cherry pie.

  Chapter Three

  5 Weeks Ago

  I straddled my bike, dropped the kickstand and turned off the engine. I pulled my helmet off my head and tucked it under my arm, pulling off my fingerless, leather gloves as I strode toward the gym. The doors were locked but the dim light shining through the glass told me Anthony was in there, no doubt working overtime to make his dream a reality. He had been working around the clock to get this place in order, to open it and start a new life.

  I had distanced myself from him, bitter he didn’t hold up his end of the bargain. But all the while I was being a prick he was getting Victor Pastore to deliver me his underboss. Bianci came through just like he vowed to, getting me proof my brother was murdered by Jimmy Gold.

  I rapped my bare knuckles against the glass door, peering into the window to watch Anthony walk toward me. I shoved my gloves into my pocket and took a step back as he opened the door. He greeted me with a cold stare, crossing his arms against his chest and leaned against the door blocking the entrance.

  “Need a word,” I said, breaking the silence between us.

  He studied me, holding his stance for a minute before backing away, clearing the entry for me to step inside. I glanced around the gym, impressed by the work he had put into the business. At first glance, one would think Anthony was a badass motherfucker, and he was. The streets made him tough, they made him wise—but beneath the surface Bianci had a heart.

  “The great enforcer goes legit,” I commented, nodding my head in approval before turning around and glancing at him. “Looks good, Bianci.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered.

  “I take it you’re not too pleased to see me,” I declared, placing my helmet on the counter, bending my leg as I propped my boot against the wall and leaned against it.

  “Didn’t expect to see you,” he shrugged. “You fell off the face of the earth.”

  “Thought you left me hanging,” I countered.

  “I told you I was a man of my word, Jack,” he stated.

  “I paid Vic a visit.” I hesitated slightly before continuing. “I owe you an apology, Bianci,” I declared.

  “You don’t owe me shit. When I say I’m going to do something, I do it,” he said firmly. “I take it Vic gave you what you needed.”

  “He did. But I’m guessing he wouldn’t have if you hadn’t of gone in to bat for me,” I pushed myself off the wall and took a step closer to him. “Thank you, brother,” I whispered, holding out my hand.

  Anthony slid his hand into mine and shook it firmly. “Glad you got what you needed,” he sighed, the ice broken between us as we pulled our hands away and stared at one another. “I take it you have a plan,” he surmised.

  “I got a few things floating around my head, nothing concrete,” I replied.

  His lips smirked, and he shook his head.

  “Been around long enough to know that you aren’t going to disclose that shit to me,” he declared.

  “I will get that motherfucker,” I vowed.

  “There’s not a doubt in my mind you will,” he replied, cocking his head to the side as he peered at me. “Hope it brings you closure, but I don’t think it will,” he added.

  I pondered his statement.

  There was no such thing as closure. At least, not for me. I never got closure when my boy died, never made peace with the wrongs I did that caused his death. No, closure was a thing for dreamers.

  “I’m doing it for revenge. I’m doing it because I’m a sick fuck that wants to torture that bastard,” I declared.

  “Still, everyone needs closure,” he insisted.

  “What the fuck do you know about closure, Bianci? You ever lose someone you love? Don’t give me that shit about yo
ur girl because that shit was temporary. She didn’t drop dead never to be seen again,” I sneered, angrily.

  “No I haven’t…but Jack, killing Jimmy isn’t going to bring back Danny. Sure, it might make you feel better, but that shit is temporary,” he said, throwing my words back in my face.

  “Why you pleading Jimmy’s case?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Only case I’m pleading is yours,” he said firmly. “I saw Vic lose control, become a fucking monster, all because he was trying to avenge Val’s death. In the end he lost everything that mattered and that cocksucker who ordered the hit is still living and breathing,” he argued. “Just don’t want to see you lose control.”

  Anthony had no idea I was manic depressive. He didn’t understand how easily it was for me to lose control.

  “There was a woman. I remember her being brought out of the house on a stretcher right before it blew,” he started.

  The fucking girl.

  Vic mentioned something about her, said there was an address in the envelope where I could find her. I didn’t give two fucks about the pussy my brother was fucking. He wasn’t married, didn’t have kids with her, she was probably just some prissy bitch he met in the bureau. The fact that my brother died and that bitch, whoever the fuck she was, didn’t call me to be at his funeral was bullshit.

  “Your point?” I growled in frustration, running my fingers through my hair.

  “You should reach out to her,” he stated.

  “Why the fuck would I do that?” I asked, losing my patience with this conversation.

  He raised an eyebrow and silently stared at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I snarled.

  “All I’m saying is maybe she can clue you in on the last few years of your brother’s life, give you some insight on the shit you missed out on,” he countered.

  “It don’t matter what I missed, Bianci. It won’t change that he’s gone—and making nice with the last piece of ass he had, won’t bring him back,” I said, making up my mind.

  “Ever think she’s hurting just like you? Grieving for what she’s lost?” he suggested, while shrugging his shoulders. “I know it’s not the same but when I was away, Adrianna and my mother kept in touch. I didn’t find out until I came home but I was happy they had one another. Maybe she wasn’t just some broad, maybe she mattered to your brother and if she did I think he’d rest easy knowing someone was looking out for her,” he explained.

  I stared at him blankly for a moment before shaking my head.

  “You’re fucking whipped,” I stated. “Look at you, believing in fairytales and shit. You probably think fucking unicorns are real,” I continued, disgusted. “Glad you’re happy, brother, but stop pushing rainbows and all that good shit, this way.”

  He chuckled, holding up his hands in mock defeat.

  “Just my opinion,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it,” I responded, pulling my gloves out of my pocket and slipping my hands into them before grabbing my helmet from the counter. I pierced him with a steady glare. “We all good?”

  “We’re good,” he confirmed, nodding his head.

  “Good,” I said, fitting my helmet to my head. “I’ll be in touch,” I added as I turned to leave.

  “She was hospitalized for a few weeks after the fire,” he whispered, from behind me causing me to freeze mid-stride. “Danny’s body wasn’t released to her due to the investigation,” he added.

  I waited for him to continue, to pile more shit onto the plate he served up but he didn’t. I shook my head, dismissing the information and strode out of his gym.

  Fucking Bianci.

  Fucking faceless girl.

  I straddled my bike, secured my helmet, and revved my engine. I gripped the handlebars of my bike and bit the inside of my cheek before mumbling a stream of curses and turning off my bike. There was no logical explanation why I turned my bike off and stormed back inside Anthony’s gym. No fucking reason other than I was a glutton for punishment.

  He lifted an eyebrow as he stared at me.

  “Talk,” I growled, dropping my helmet onto the counter and bracing my hands against it.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, evenly.

  “Everything,” I muttered, turning around to meet his gaze.

  Anthony blew out a breath, taking a seat on one of the bench press machines. “I went to see Vic. It was during the trial and he was still running things from inside. I told him everything, told him you were never going to kill the Fed because he was your brother. I admitted that I was going to turn the other cheek because your word was enough for me, as long as the investigation was dead, that was all that mattered,” he paused, running his fingers through his hair. “He sent me away,” he continued. “Thought for sure he would order a hit on me and a part of me felt like I deserved whatever it was he had in store for me. Not because I went behind his back but because I gave you my word, I would help you and I let you down. Vic was my last hope in getting the goods on Jimmy,” he said, holding my gaze. “I remembered the woman,” he sighed. “I figured since I couldn’t deliver the culprit, I could deliver Danny and at least you’d be able to give your brother a proper funeral.”

  I flinched, I know his words didn’t mean to sting, but they did.

  “So, I went in search of her. She’s like a goddamn phantom,” he hissed, scratching at his jaw. “She was rushed to the hospital that night because she had been badly burned but she was a Jane Doe. No ID on her and if she had anything in the house it had been destroyed. The hospital was a dead end, they just told me she had been there for a few weeks. Fucking patient confidentiality bullshit. The only reason I was able to get her address was because your brother had a second driver listed on his car insurance policy. I followed up on the name, and got the address listed with the DMV. I guess I expected a house, maybe a two-family with a side apartment, didn’t expect the broad to live in the fucking projects.”

  I shook my head instantly. “This is a big fucking waste of time, Bianci. Danny wasn’t the type to date some hood rat from the projects,” I gritted.

  “You want to let me finish?” he asked, leveling me with a stare. “It was easy to put a face to the phantom. She sticks out like a sore thumb in that neighborhood, radiating innocence with that pale skin and blonde hair. Your brother’s girl is no hood rat,” he said.

  I snapped my mouth shut and stared at him.

  “She works at some diner on Court Street,” he continued. “I only followed her a handful of times but from what I can tell she’s a loner,” he added.

  “So what? She’s not my problem, Bianci,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “If she meant something to him then he should’ve taken care of her. He should’ve set her up in case something happened to him.”

  “Look, we don’t know the details of their relationship. It’s possible they just met before he passed. What I do know is that she didn’t bury him. Last I checked, they still hadn’t released his body. Not to her, not to anyone,” he said.

  I stared at him for a moment, taking in his words, trying to decide what the fuck to do with them or if I should do anything at all. I meant it when I said she wasn’t my problem. I had enough people to take care of in my life. I did my part looking out for all the lost souls I’ve encountered, didn’t see the need to take in a stray.

  “That all?” I asked, pushing off the counter and straightening my stance.

  “Dee’s,” he stated.

  I squinted, deciphering the name. “The little hole in the wall diner under the overpass?”

  He nodded.

  “What about it?” I huffed, not in the mood for riddles. Fuck, I wasn’t in the mood for much of anything.

  “She works overnight, goes in around eleven, leaves about ten the next morning,” he added.

  I glanced down at my boots for a beat before lifting my eyes to Anthony, staring at him silently. There were no words left between us. He said his peace and now it was up to me to
decide what to do with it. I gave him a nod, my version of thank you, and turned to leave.

  Dee’s Diner.

  I knew the joint, back in the day it used to be the place Satan’s Knights congregated at after a run. Used to have the best fucking coffee in downtown Brooklyn.

  I wonder if they still did.

  On the open road, my mind drifted back to the night Danny’s house went up in flames. I didn’t remember much, just the amber flames before the house crumbled with my brother trapped inside. I sure as hell didn’t remember there being a woman. I didn’t give a fuck then and I shouldn’t give a fuck now.

  I didn’t know what the purpose of me going to Dee’s Diner was. But I knew that’s where I’d park my bike. I wasn’t going to make nice with some broad that my brother dipped his dick inside. But maybe I’d ask her why the hell he was still sitting with a toe tag in the fucking morgue.

  Hell, I didn’t even know what she fucking looked like.

  Radiating innocence with that pale skin and blonde hair.

  I turned my bike onto Court Street, riding straight toward Dee’s Diner. I could see the dated diner in the distance, the first letter on the sign flickering.

  I’d order a killer cup of coffee and maybe a slice of pie.

  Cherry pie.

  Chapter Four

  Present Day

  “Settle down,” I demanded, pounding the gavel viciously against the wood, trying to reign my boys in so we could hold church. I lifted my eyes to glance at the clock and shook my head. I was already fucking late.

  “Goddamn it, settle down boys,” I growled, their boisterous voices lowering as their eyes settled on me.

  “For fuck’s sake you’re like a bunch of bitches at a beauty parlor,” I hissed, throwing the gavel down and leaning back against my chair. “Now, let’s get down to business,” I said, diverting my eyes to our treasurer, Pipe. “How’d we do this week?”

  Pipe leaned forward, glancing around the table at the brothers before cracking a grin. “We did good this week,” he declared, sliding envelopes across the table to the men. “Cain’s old man got his hands on some impressive guns. We need to move them quick though, before we get any heat from ATF.”