Connelly Crime Family Trilogy

by Winters, KB

  There was no reason for nerves anyway. I’d done shit like this a million times before. It usually came easy to me, but even I could admit that normally I didn’t give a shit what happened to anyone without the Connelly name. But this was different. As much as I wanted to fool myself that Layla was nothing more than casual sex and intense orgasms, it was a fucking lie. I wanted her. Bad. Bad enough to enlist my family to help save her fucking life.

  Shit, I might be falling for this chick.

  “I’m at the window. It’s unlocked.” Shae sounded cool and calm with a hint of pleasure to his voice.

  “Too fucking easy,” he whispered while Rourke and I listened for any signs of distress. “Okay, I’m inside.”

  “Is she in there?”

  “She’s not in the shower which is where I currently am so give me a damn min—”

  The line went silent and panic rose up in my gut.

  “Shae, you there? Answer me, dammit.”

  Several long seconds passed before he spoke again.

  “Sorry. I heard something in the bathroom and it turned out to be Layla.”

  “You barged in on her in the bathroom?”

  He laughed. “No, she’s tied to a chair. Gotta go guys, kick some ass while I save the damsel in distress.”

  His connection went dead and though I should have felt relief, more anxiety welled up in me.

  “Relax bro, she’ll be fine. Your head in the game?”

  I took a deep breath and glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror, giving me something I rarely needed. A mental pep talk.

  “Yeah, my head’s in the game Rourke.”

  “Good, because we got movement on the east side of the motel. Two guys, both armed. They don’t look like Milano’s men.”

  Shit. “Colors?”

  “Yeah. Purple and black.” Rourke’s matter of fact tone concealed his emotions, a fact that normally pissed me off but today it was comforting. Those colors belonged to the Purple Aces, a group of crazy fuckers with ambitions of being Somebody with a capital ‘S.’

  “Any Milano muscle around?”

  From my spot at the diner across the street I couldn’t see anyone so I stepped from the car.

  “Not yet but you have an audience.”

  My head immediately began to swivel in all directions, checking out all the angles danger could come from. Mostly I got darkness. Not helpful.

  “Good, I always wanted to star in my own show.”

  Rourke’s chuckle sounded down the line. “Rico is at your one o’clock.”

  I spotted that big fucker because there was no amount of darkness that could shield his girth. “Got it.”

  I crossed the street, my eyes moving constantly, keeping a close eye on Rico while looking out for any of Lorenzo’s boys.

  Rico locked in on me as I approached. He had a gun in his right hand. I smiled and pointed at his fat belly.

  “Rico. Good to see you. You lost weight?”

  “Fuck you, Connelly.”

  A laugh escaped me even though I wasn’t feeling jolly, and I took a step forward. “You’re not my type, Rico.”

  “That’s far enough,” he said, but I heard the wariness creep into his tone, so I took another step forward.

  I knew talk of Layla would get him to lower his guard, at least a little. “Where’s the girl?” I said.

  He shrugged. “Keep your hand away from that gun stuffed in your pants and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”

  A few more steps forward and I heard two sets of footsteps a few paces behind me.

  “So the pussies behind me can try and get the jump on me? Try again, Rico.”

  He raised the gun and aimed it at me, and I could see his hands trembling. I had him right where I wanted him. “Toss that piece nice and slow over this way, Rico.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Rico threw his head back and laughed, a sliver of pale white fat around his belly shone under the yellowish security lights provided by the cheap motel.

  “Nah, I got a curvy blonde inside with more than enough holes for me and the boys.”

  My fingers twitched with the urge to lay that fat fuck out, but I couldn’t do shit until Shae gave me the all clear. So I just smiled.

  “Then I guess I got here just in time for the party. You might want to lower that gun before it falls out of your hand or you shoot one of these motherfuckers coming up behind me by mistake. The last thing you need is to have to explain to the boss man how you lost the girl and shot his men.”

  I took a step back and turned toward the two men who’d stopped about twenty feet away in front of motel room. I figured Layla was in the room behind them.

  “Take one more step Connelly, and I’ll put two bullets in that bitch before you make your way out of the parking lot.”

  A broad smile crossed my face. Damn, I loved it when a plan worked out so beautifully. Even Jesus himself couldn’t have planned this shit better.

  “Angelo Milano, I thought that was the stench of rotten garbage I smelled.” I turned back to him and slid my piece out of my waistband, finger hovering half an inch off the trigger. “Lorenzo must not be too serious if you’re the one he sent.”

  “Fuck you, Connelly. Soon your family will be nothing but a memory in this town.”

  I laughed. “Is this your version of a ‘Rocket ain’t big enough for the both of us’ speech? It was better in High Noon.”

  “Laugh it up, pretty boy.”

  Shae’s breathless voice sounded in my ear. “E-dogg, I got her.”

  And just like that, everything was fine again. The edges of my vision cleared and my pulse slowed until everything was in absolute fucking focus.

  “Backup is in place,” Rourke confirmed, and I was ready.

  “You know why I’m laughing, Angelo? Because you’re a fucking joke. Your whole fucking family is a goddamn joke. You think you can come in here and take what belongs to my family? Well then motherfucker, you better be prepared to fight for it.” While I talked I took a few more steps forward, taunting them both.

  Angelo laughed. “You wanna go at it right here in the parking lot like a bunch of teenagers? It ain’t my style, but I’m down.”

  “And that’s the problem with you Milanos, small brains equal small thoughts. You want what I got, you better be willing to fucking take it.”

  Angelo, pussy that he was, took a step back and bumped into the door. “You want me to take it?”

  “You don’t have the balls.”

  “You want me to take what’s yours?” His voice grew louder, more agitated by the second.

  “I want you to try so I can take my time killing you.” Then, I let my face relax into a smile.

  “Something funny?”

  I shrugged. “Besides your face?”

  Angelo was good and pissed off, taking another step back and grabbing the doorknob. He twisted it and looked over his shoulder with a smile. “Killing her won’t mean shit to me. Can you say the same?”

  “Whatever happens next Angelo, just know that you brought it all on yourself.” Another wave of deep calm washed over me and it was almost as if I could see the next few minutes unfold. That comforting thought put my feet on the move, right toward Angelo Milano.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Layla

  “Layla, I presume?”

  A handsome man who looked like a younger version of Eamon smiled down at me but I was still on alert.

  “Who are you?”

  Just because he looked like Eamon didn’t mean he was any relation to him and for all I knew he could’ve been part of the crew that came with Angelo and Rico.

  The man switched his gun to his left hand and stuck out his right. “Shae Connelly. Your savior.”

  “Eamon’s younger brother.” That was a relief at least. “I’d love to shake your hands but I’m zip tied to this damn chair.”

  He flashed a boyish grin and holstered his gun be
fore pulling a knife from a back pocket. Shae leaned over, his masculine scent invaded my nostrils and it was a damn sight better than the stench of Rico that still lingered. He slid the knife between my wrists in an upward motion and my upper body fell forward.

  “Now you’re free,” he announced.

  “Thanks,” I said, a little lightheaded from swinging from death’s door to rescue. My arms and hands tingled as I shook them out and feeling returned. But when I tried to stand, I said, “Oh shit!”

  Shae reached for me as I fell forward. “I gotcha. How are your window climbing skills?”

  I looked up at his smiling face and groaned. “Nonexistent, but my survival instincts run pretty damn deep.”

  And I realized that in a few minutes, hopefully less, we would be free. I would be free.

  “Wait!” I said as panic set in once again. “They’re setting up a trap. There’s the guy Rico but also another guy named Angelo. They talked about the others and made it sound like they planned on killing Eamon.”

  It wasn’t something I wanted to think about but seeing as he’d come to my rescue it was the least I could do.

  “We figured that out, but thanks. Don’t worry, it’s being taken care of, sweetheart.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that it and they are being taken care of. Don’t worry. But we really need to get the hell out of here. Now.”

  “Right. Lead the way.”

  I was ready to get out of this damn motel and jump into a hot bath with a big bottle of tequila. This had been a tequila kind of week and red wine just wouldn’t cut it.

  “You first.”

  I wanted to argue but the voices outside grew louder and I knew we didn’t have much time. Stepping inside the shower, my heart began to beat faster but I sucked in two big breaths and let them out slowly before I peeked outside the window and then back at Shae. “Just jump on top of the dumpster?”

  “Yep. It’s only about five feet.”

  “Okay.” I could do this. Out the window was the path to freedom and there was no reason to hesitate. None at all.

  “Just jump, Layla.”

  “Right. Just jump.” I repeated the words more to strengthen my resolve than anything else.

  And then, I jumped.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Eamon

  “Shoot goddammit! I said shoot!” Rico stood between me and Angelo. The sniveling piece of shit cowered back there like a child hiding from the boogeyman, yelling at the Purple Aces to shoot at me. I couldn’t believe Rico was the best hitman in Rocket. The family had even used him before. Now, he was just a big idiot.

  “What the fuck?” Rico asked. He looked around at the group of men decked out in purple and black, bewildered. Terrified. Trapped.

  “What did they promise you, Rico?” I called out.

  Rico frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about?” We both knew he was lying.

  “Lorenzo, or was it Angelo? What did they offer you to put your life at risk?”

  He scoffed but I saw the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and his neck, the dark stains all over his shirt.

  “My life is always at risk.”

  “Bullshit. You’re a hired assassin, the risk is minimal. Did Angelo promise to make you a made man if you snatched Layla? Did Lorenzo promise you guaranteed work?”

  “What business is it of yours?”

  “That’s what happens when you deal with amateurs like the Milano family. Money is the universal language and we have more of it than the Milanos. Hell, we have more to offer a gang on the rise like the Purple Aces. And unfortunately for you…” I waited a beat, savoring the look of abject horror on Angelo’s face. “They accepted.”

  “Bullshit,” he spat from around Rico’s shoulder. “You’re lying.”

  “He’s not.” Street was the current leader of the Aces and the man had one goal, to make a shit ton of money. A trait I could relate to. “It’s not personal, ya know, just business.”

  “Motherfucker!” Angelo panicked, hand still wrapped around the doorknob of the hotel room, he somehow still managed to fumble it, giving me even more time to gain on him.

  “Are you running, Angelo? I heard you were the crazy one. The unstable one.” Mostly he was cruel, the product of being raised by a sadist like Lorenzo.

  “That’s a disappointment. I was hoping we could have a little fun.”

  His eyes widened in terror and finally the door opened and sent both Rico and Angelo falling backwards into the room, Rico now splayed out on top of Angelo.

  “You’re the crazy one!” he said, his voice rising in a frenzy of fear.

  “Yeah and you’re just a spoiled prick who made a deadly mistake.”

  My footsteps were slow and deliberate, an even slower smile spread across my face as he tried to get Rico’s fat ass off his legs.

  “Fuck you, Connelly. You can’t kill me.”

  He was so certain, so fucking sure that the rules he saw on some episode of Mob Wives were the rules we operated by in real life that I almost felt sorry for the asshole. Almost.

  “Yeah, according to who?”

  He finally broke free of Rico’s torso and slid against the filthy blue-gray carpet on his ass.

  “Lorenzo.”

  I laughed as I crossed the threshold, standing beside Rico’s panting, sweaty body. “Was that his way of getting you to go on this fool’s errand or are you acting on your own?”

  I looked down at Rico and his eyes slammed into mine with a look of resignation. One I respected but when he started this life, he knew this was likely how it was gonna end. He closed his eyes and I raised my gun and pulled the trigger. Twice.

  “Not that it matters.”

  “Oh shit! Fuck!”

  “Calm down, you’ve cleaned up worse in the family biz, right?”

  Stepping over Rico’s lifeless body, I took a few more steps forward.

  “I wonder if I’ll get a discount on this job since you’re family and all.”

  That had Angelo scrambling to his feet. He scanned the room and I knew just what he was looking for, or who.

  “Where …?”

  His eyes went wide and he darted to the bathroom with me three steps behind him because I didn’t want to miss when he found the bathroom empty.

  “No!”

  “Oh yeah,” I said unnecessarily as he stared at the turned over chair and the white zip ties still dangling from the arm.

  “No! Goddammit.” He looked to the open window and ran to it, looking left and then right. “No! No! No!”

  That sound, the panic and the fear, it all made me smile.

  “Angelo.”

  He froze and slowly slid down into the tub with the long vein of rust through it until he landed on his feet. Angelo stood slowly. Too fucking slowly for him to do anything but go for his piece, if the dumb fuck even carried one.

  “You should’ve shot me when you had the chance.”

  Slowly he lifted his gun from his side like this was a goddamn movie shoot. I lifted my gun and shot him in the thigh. I enjoyed the sight of his leg giving out under him more than a God-fearing man should have, but I didn’t fear God. I respected his wrath, but I feared no man.

  “I think that’s my line.”

  Angelo’s chest rose and fell quickly, his breathing shallow from the pain, his brow slick with sweat.

  “You know what this means, right?”

  I nodded. “That whether you live or die is up to me?”

  “This,” he panted, his breathing labored. “Means. War.”

  The dumb shit smiled like he’d be around to see if his prediction proved true.

  “Don’t kill him,” Rourke warned in my ear.

  I frowned even though he couldn’t see me. “End them, he said. End. Them.”

  Rourke sighed. “He changed his mind. Uncle now wants a slow, painful death.”

  I shrugged. “I’m fine with that.” Angelo flinched when I dropped down to my kne
es and stuck my thumb in the hole in his thigh. “Must be your lucky day, Angelo. You get to live.”

  “Ah fuck! Stop!”

  “But by the time tomorrow comes, you’ll wish you were dead.”

  Applying just a few more pounds of pressure produced a scream that spoke of his agony and that anguish stretched a smile across my face.

  “B-B-But I won’t be,” he barely stammered out.

  I’d get busy making sure he’d regret seeing the sun every fucking morning for the rest of his life. “If I see any Milano anywhere in Rocket and it doesn’t involve cleaning up a bunch of dead gangbangers, you’re the first one I’ll kill. Only I’ll do it real slow this time while I make your father and brother watch.”

  When Angelo finally passed out from the pain, I grabbed his phone to make sure he didn’t make a liar out of me.

  As soon as I stepped back over Rico’s body and outside the room, I sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Where is she?”

  Rourke chuckled. “Insisted on waiting by that ugly ass car of yours.”

  My feet carried me in the direction of my car, my legs moving faster and faster, needing to see for myself that she really was okay.

  My car came into sight seconds later and then Layla, looking sexy and disheveled and a little worse for wear in jeans, a black top and no shoes.

  “Layla.”

  Her smile spread slowly, shyly as she took me in with heat in her eyes. But it wasn’t the heat that had my walk increasing to a jog, it was the way the bottom of her smile quivered.

  “Eamon,” she said and broke off in a sob.

  In seconds I had Layla in my arms, holding her close. Holding her tight.

  “Oh babe, I’m so fucking sorry.” Her body felt frail as it shook from her sobs. I hoped my body, my warmth and my presence offered her some comfort.

  “You’re safe now, Layla. You’re safe.”

  She pulled back and looked up at me, cupping my jaw so gently I leaned in before I thought better of it. Her green eyes glowed in the moonlight. “Thank you, Eamon.”

  Goddamn, this woman had the power to completely undo me. I knew what it was I felt for her, what I had been reluctant to put a name to until the moment I had her in my arms. Love. That’s what it was. And as soon as she was ready to hear it, I would tell her.