The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “Road name,” I corrected.

  “Cut me some slack, I’m new to the old lady status,” she said, her voice cracking. “Tell me your name,” she repeated.

  “Dominic,” I whispered.

  “Dominic,” she started. “I like Blackie, better,” she conceded.

  “You’re good people, Reina,” I said.

  Why was it the good always finished last?

  “We will get the fuck out of here,” I declared, clearing my throat. The way I figure it, God’s not going to let me die here, under this dickbag Jimmy’s thumb. He wants me breathing, he keeps me suffering so, Reina, has a fair shot of surviving this shit.

  “Jimmy blew up my truck,” I informed her.

  Keep talking…Keep fighting.

  “After I dropped you off I made a stop, must be when he planted the bomb,” I added.

  Lacey.

  I hope they left her alone. I pray to whatever God willing to hear me that she listened when I told her to stay put.

  “You don’t think he planted it while I had the truck?” she questioned.

  “Jack’s house is covered with cameras, anyone watches him, and it’s obvious Jimmy’s been watching us, wouldn’t be stupid enough to plant a bomb with the camera rolling,” I explained.

  “So where did you go?” she asked.

  It almost slipped off my tongue.

  Lace.

  Her.

  My angel.

  My light.

  “We being real with one another?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You about over the whole Jack being Danny’s brother thing? I mean when you get the fuck out of here you’re not going to hold some sort of grudge over the man’s head are you?”

  It was time for me to pass the torch to Reina. It was time for her to battle Jack’s demons with him, it was her job to wear down his maker.

  “I’m over it,” Reina stated “I don’t like being lied to, but…” she attempted to shrug her shoulders.

  “I love him,” she whispered.

  Love.

  It keeps us holding on.

  Even when we don’t know we’ve got it.

  Even when we don’t know we have a little left in us to give.

  It’s one of the divine gifts.

  One of the few.

  “Hold onto that, what you feel for him, it’ll help,” I said.

  She stared at me silent for a moment before she spoke.

  “What are you holding on to?” she asked hoarsely.

  I looked away as Christine whispered all the words I never knew I needed to hear.

  Let me go Blackie.

  It’s time.

  It’s not too late to change.

  Change your life.

  You did it once before.

  You did it for me.

  Change your life.

  Do it for her.

  But mostly, do it for you.

  You.

  “Which question do you want me to answer? Where I went after I dropped you off or what I’m holding on to?” I asked, finally.

  “Something tells me both questions have the same answer,” she said, softly.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, diverting my eyes to the floor.

  A memory flashed before my eyes, the same memory I struggled to remember this morning when I held Lacey in my arms and she asked me if I remembered the first time she called me Leather.

  I don’t know why the memory came now, but it did and when I needed it the most.

  “Lace? Oh we’re doing the nickname thing?” she said mockingly, like a true smart ass. She was insisting I take a sip of her milkshake. “Fine. C’mon Leather, live dangerously,” she teased.

  “Leather?” I asked.

  “Leather and Lace. You and me,” she affirmed as she smiled at me.

  That smile.

  Man, I was gone.

  She had the power to heal me, even if it was only temporary.

  I lifted my eyes back to Reina’s.

  “Leather and Lace,” I whispered.

  Because the idea of me and her—it was all I had left.

  The door opened, jarring the both of us and we turned our eyes to one of Jimmy’s men. He carried a leather pouch tucked under his arm and knelt before me. He unzipped the bag and pulled a vile out, followed by a syringe.

  Lace.

  Her.

  He roughly grabbed my outstretched arm and tied a band around it.

  “Don’t,” Reina yelled. “Can’t you see he’s not a threat to you people? Why are you doing this to him?”

  I turned my head to Reina, but all I saw was Lacey’s face. My angel with the sweet smile and sad eyes.

  “It’s all good, Reina,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek.

  “Leather and lace,” Reina whispered as the needle pricked my skin.

  I closed my eyes and remembered dancing with her, holding her close as we blocked out the rest of the world.

  A world where there was no maker.

  A world where there were no drugs.

  And Jimmy fucking Gold didn’t exist.

  The heroin took over.

  Fight.

  For her.

  “Leather and lace,” I slurred, fighting with every fiber of my being to get those words out.

  Her.

  Chapter Eight

  I used to think drugs took me to heaven, and if I’m being honest, when shit gets rough, I look for the easy way out. I’ll hit the bottle and think I’m escaping hell. The truth is drugs are my hell; they numb the pain for a while but if I don’t stay high all the time eventually I wake up, the numbness fades and the pain is only intensified. It’s not just the mental pain that is worse but it’s the physical pain which wasn’t there before the drugs, but is present now. A pain so severe you forget about the original demons that haunt you and lead you to the drugs, a pain that tears through you and makes you wish were dead. It’s a pain you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

  Well, maybe that isn’t entirely true.

  I wish worse for Jimmy Gold.

  A whole lot worse.

  I’d like to cut his dick off and feed it to him as he bled out.

  I hear his voice and decide that I’d rip the cocksucker’s dick off with a pair of dirty pliers.

  “Should we give him another hit?” One of his men asked.

  Him? He’s going to get his eyes ripped from their sockets with an ice cream scoop, or maybe a melon baller. Fuck that, I’ll carve them out with my knife.

  “Not yet,” Jimmy murmured, crouching down before me as he took my face in his hands. “Time to give your president a message,” he said, slapping my cheeks. “Take the cuffs off him,” he ordered to the man standing behind him.

  One of the first times Jack found me fucked up he smacked me across the face and told me to stand up. I remember thinking it was physically impossible and refused. You don’t refuse Jack Parrish. Ever. He pulled me to my feet, holding me under my arms until I found my balance.

  “You don’t have to drown. You got legs that work, you stand the fuck up and keep moving. But if you don’t get on your feet and you choose to drown in the poison, then you’re a fucking pussy.”

  Jimmy rose to his feet, spinning on his heel, and pointed a finger at the other man. “Get the phone ready; make sure the lighting is clear so when we shoot the video there is no mistaking what Jack Parrish will be seeing.”

  The first douche bag un-cuffed me and pulled me up. On my feet, I stumbled, barely able to hold my head up…. but I wasn’t a pussy.

  And motherfucker, I’m not ready to drown.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he dragged me across the room to the slop sink. He turned the faucet on and I lost my fucking shit, at least I think I did. I struggled to fight, pushing back against his pull but let’s be serious. I was no match for this son of a bitch, not with all the shit he injected into my bloodstream.

  Still, I’m standing.

  I won’t drown.

  No
t now.

  Not by this prick.

  He grabbed a fist full of my hair and shoved my face into the basin of the sink. The ice cold water rained down over my head, awakening me and numbing me to everything other than the freezing temperature of the water.

  Finally, he turned the faucet off and released his hold on me. I lifted my head, pushing the hair back and away from my face, turning around to face Reina. The man behind pushed me, forcing me to shuffle my feet across the cement until I was standing in front of her.

  I watched as Jimmy’s henchmen walked around me, making his way behind Reina and freed her hand. Jimmy knelt before her, cutting the zip ties from her ankles, before nodding to the man still standing behind Reina. He grabbed her hair, forcing her onto her feet and when her legs gave out he yanked harder on her hair.

  “What the fuck man? C’mon leave her alone,” I groaned as she shrieked in pain. “You’re only making shit worse for yourself by fucking with her,” I added.

  “Shut up,” Jimmy ordered, reaching down to his calf as he lifted his pants slightly, pulling the gun from his holster before lifting it to my head. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to,” he declared, glancing over his shoulder at the man pulling Reina’s hair. “Give me the phone,” he demanded, reaching over my shoulder to grab the iPhone. “Is it ready?”

  I glanced at Reina, saw the fear in her and eyes and forced myself to ignore it and concentrate on focusing. I needed to get my head straight to figure out what this crazy son of bitch was planning.

  “Yes,” the lackey replied.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Jimmy dropped the gun he had aimed at my head and fiddled with his phone. I turned my eyes back to Reina’s.

  “Stay with me,” I mouthed, as Jimmy’s second enforcer aimed his gun at me.

  For fuck’s sake.

  The guy holding Reina by the hair, released her and cocked his gun.

  “There is this old saying, maybe you’ve heard it,” Jimmy began, as he circled us with his arm outstretched recording himself as he did. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me,” he arched his eyebrows and smiled at the camera. “I’m no one’s fool,” he declared, looking away from the camera he turned to face me. “You told me she was a whore. You said you take chance a piece on her sweet cunt, right?” he questioned. “Answer the question! Look into the camera when you do.”

  “Yes,” I lied through my teeth.

  “But you haven’t sampled her have you?” he asked, turning around to Reina, trailing his fingertip along her collarbone. “But you’re going to now and do you know why, pretty girl? Do you know why he will rape you?”

  Rape?

  Fuck no.

  I’m a lot of things, a man who committed a lot of sins, but I was no rapist.

  Let him pull the trigger.

  Fuck it all.

  I would not touch her.

  “Because you’re not a fool,” Reina replied.

  “I’m not touching her you sick fuck,” I shouted over her. “Shoot me up, do what you got to do but I won’t fucking touch her.”

  Jimmy laughed, ignoring me as he played back his video, scrutinizing it. Reina’s eyes found mine, pleading with me to make it stop, to put an end to this torture.

  I had nothing.

  Fucking helpless.

  At the mercy of drugs.

  At the mercy of a mobster.

  I was not my own man.

  I was not worthy of my cut or my patch.

  Satan’s Knight?

  No, I was Jimmy’s bitch.

  “It will be okay,” I told her.

  “Leather and Lace,” she breathed. “When we get out of here will you tell me what it means?”

  I stared at her silently.

  No, I wouldn’t.

  Not for the obvious reasons, not because she was Jack’s daughter but because in that moment, with death looming over me, Leather and Lace became sacred. It was a dream, something foreign to a man who is only granted nightmares, and I wanted to hang onto the dream a little longer. I wanted to hang on to the idea I could change, maybe be a better man, and as much of a stretch as it was I wanted to hang on to the idea I could be better for her. I wanted to believe I could be the guy she needed, to give her what she deserved and repay her for all the ways she heals me. Even if it’s temporary.

  “Yeah,” I lied, because we weren’t getting out of here and I could hang onto Leather and Lace until I drew my final breath.

  “No, that was all wrong, let’s try it again,” Jimmy said.

  “Trust me,” I whispered faintly, resigning to my fate.

  I drew in a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly, expecting to see Christine’s face but it wasn’t her haunting me, pulling me into the darkness. It was my angel; it was Lacey’s beautiful face begging me to follow her light.

  I’m sorry, Lace.

  Here I come, Christine.

  I opened my eyes as Reina closed hers and walked towards her.

  “Thatta boy, make it good,” Jimmy sang. “Her life depends on it,” he said, reinforcing my decision to sacrifice my existence for hers.

  I swayed as I took another step closer to my president’s woman, reaching for her hand as I placed my other hand on her hip. Her eyes opened, and I turned my head, nuzzling her neck, avoiding her eyes.

  “He loves you,” I whispered against her ear, willing her to think of Jack.

  “He’s here with you not me,” I whispered, kissing her neck as my fingers worked the buttons of her shirt. “Follow my lead,” I demanded, against her throat.

  “Cut to the chase,” Jimmy ordered.

  I tore my mouth from her neck.

  Game time, motherfucker.

  “Open your eyes, Reina,” I said, squeezing her hand I still held in mine before dropping it and lifting both of my hands to her face. Her eyes fluttered opened and she stared back at me.

  What I wouldn’t give for one more glance into the dark eyes that owned me.

  “Leather and Lace,” I whispered. “Now close them and think of Jack,” I said, as I closed my eyes and thought of Lacey.

  And then it happened.

  I kissed her.

  To save her life.

  I was about to tear my mouth from hers, to turn around and face the gun pointed at me but a hand reached around my shoulder and shoved a needle into my jugular. I lost feeling throughout my body, starting with my face. My mouth released Reina’s and my hands dropped from her face.

  “Blackie?” Reina shouted frantically.

  Lace.

  It was her face I saw when the life drained from me.

  Her.

  After my father found me he brought me back to the Dog Pound where apparently everyone who mattered to the men of the Satan’s Knights congregated. There were some new faces, who I learned belong to Victor Pastore. It didn’t matter that my father was Jack Parrish, or that the people he kept in his circle were all the same, I still would’ve known the Pastore name. Victor’s face had been on the front page of every newspaper a couple of months ago when he confessed to all his crimes. I’m not sure why his entire family has become my father’s responsibility nor do I care. They all seem nice enough, bringing me into their circle, and doing what they’ve been trained to do. These woman, old and young, differed from me. While I’ve been at the sidelines of my father’s lifestyle, these women played front and center. To them this lockdown was the norm, they didn’t blink an eye when the men in leather scrambled around the clubhouse trying to form a plan of attack. They stood back, watched them do their thing, having faith they would return alive and in one piece, having done the job. The job being, bringing Blackie and Reina home safe and eliminating the enemy.

  They were familiar with the enemy. He once sat at their table on holiday’s, he was Victor’s right hand, his newly appointed underboss. A title he claimed after he had a hand in the murder of his first one, Michael Valente, a man they called Val. Val’s son was here too, strapping on a bullet-proof vest, ready to d
o whatever my father told him to, ready to get his revenge for his old man’s death. It was so much to take in, so many faces to keep track of, so many lives that intertwined and I’m sure if the circumstances were different I would’ve been fascinated with all this.

  I used to harbor resentment against my parents for keeping me away from the MC. It was a part of my father, so in turn it was part of me. These men that wore the reaper on their back have all for the most part, watched me grow up. Wolf and Pipe were there for all my sacraments and they brought me flowers at my dance recitals. When I went on my first date, Wolf sat behind us at the movie theatre. Pipe taught me how to drive and when my father was in jail, it was Blackie who made sure I was okay. He made sure I maintained a relationship with my dad and when I needed a ride, he was the one who dropped everything to make sure I got to wherever it was I needed to go.

  They may be men who ran on the wrong side of the law but these men where my family. I’ve heard my dad speak of his brotherhood, but seeing it firsthand, how they banded together, made it clear they were brothers in every way it counts. And though my head worked against me, filling my mind with doom, it was hard not to have faith they would bring Blackie back to them.

  Back to me.

  I don’t think Blackie knows his worth. His worth to his club, to my father and to me. Does he know that these men are not whole without him? Does he even realize that my father doesn’t function to the best of his ability unless Blackie is there to guide him? Blackie’s presence is a strong aid to the lithium he takes, it’s just as important to my father’s treatment as any prescription drug.

  Does he know that the thought of losing him scares the hell out of me? I’m not sure I could live without him in my life. And not because of the crush. Not because of the attraction or the one night we shared but because Blackie is my crutch too, not just my father’s. He’s the only one in this whole world who has the power to see me and accept me.

  I’m damaged.

  And no one knows.

  He looks at me, sees the broken, the demons that come out and play whenever they want, his expression doesn’t change.