Wanderer (The Nomad Series Book 2)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “There were a bunch of parties going on. One night Bas and the treasury went on a run and while everyone else was snorting shit and fucking their brains out, I snuck into Rush’s office. I found a bunch of documents in a lock box under his desk. The lease with Triton was one of them. Like Captain Guinea over here said, Yankovich has a boat leaving the harbor tomorrow. There are three contacts listed on that lease, Boris Majestki, Dmitri Puttinksi, and Issak Bgvort.”

  He pauses and points to Rocco.

  “There were three of them, weren’t there? Those are your guys,” he tells him.

  “Are we sure?” Blackie asks.

  “The lease says they’re transporting household goods. I don’t know about you but I don’t think these motherfuckers are looking to move toasters through the Hudson,” Deuce says, tearing his gaze from Blackie to Rick. “You said he’s going to lead us to the men who raped Gina. Wouldn’t this fit that?”

  I turn to Rick, watching as he rubs a hand over the side of his face.

  “If we’re going by past experience, it only works if there is another shipment scheduled. Like I said before, he wants us to do his dirty work. He made it easy for Rocco to find out the intel on the shipment going down tomorrow. He wants us there, and he wants us to take down those three names, but there has to be something we’re missing.”

  “There is another shipment scheduled, but it isn’t the same day. There was another lease in the lock box. He’s got a container leaving in six days from Red Hook.”

  “Rick?” I question, knowing he was assuming the shipments would coincide. For years he’s always sent us in one direction, while he disappeared in another.

  “Look, maybe the way we can’t be in two places at once, neither can he,” Deuce suggests.

  “I don’t know, man,” he says after a long pause. “I don’t know anything anymore. Every time I think I’ve got this motherfucker figured out he switches the game.”

  “Look, none of Rush’s guys seem to know about the transfer you were talking about. If he’s taking their money they don’t know yet. Nor do they know about the shipment going down tomorrow which leads me to believe they don’t know jack shit about Yankovich or his men. He’s using Rush for the leasing agreement. Yankovich knows Rocco was looking to intercept the shipment, they had no idea I was there. Now those three guys are the men who played Stryker’s girl dirty. I’d bet my fucking life on it.”

  Rocco slams the heel of his hand against the table and leans forward.

  “Enough,” he shouts. “I don’t give a fuck about where Vlad is or what the fuck he is planning on transporting. If he’s giving me the guys that attacked my sister, which according to this guy…” he points to Rick, “…he is, then that’s enough for me right now. Now time’s running out. If you assholes want to sit here and play Sherlock by all means go the fuck ahead. But me and my men are hitting that dock tomorrow with or without the Satan’s Knights.”

  Straightening his tie, he stares down the table at Jack.

  “Now what’s it going to be Jack? I have no problem finishing these filthy cocksuckers off myself, but it seems like you're stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

  “Watch yourself, Spinelli,” Jack hisses. “I’m not stuck anywhere. I gave my word to my brother, promised I’d deliver the men who harmed his girl, and that’s what I’ll do.”

  He gave me his word too.

  He promised me he’d help take care of Yankovich.

  Almost as if he reads my mind, he turns his dark eyes to me.

  “Gas up, boys, we’re going to Albany. We’re going to get Stryker and do what our club does best. Then we’ll come back to this table and decide where we go from here. We got a week until his next shipment, seven days to find out if this fuck is playing us. Are you with me?” he asks everyone while he keeps his eyes firmly glued to mine.

  I steal a glance at Rick who looks just as fucking conflicted as I feel. Assuming there’d be two shipments at the same time made sense to us. There is something we’re missing, and not knowing what that is makes it real hard to move forward on anything, but Stryker is relying on us to deliver his retribution.

  He needs to deliver justice the only way he knows, and that’s something I understand all too well. Knowing time isn’t on our side and we must prioritize, I ignore my gut and nod my head.

  “I’m with you,” I tell Jack.

  The rest of the club follows by agreeing as well and Jack adjourns our meeting. Rocco shakes Jack’s hand and tells him he’ll be waiting for him. Rick also informs us while we’re away he’s going to keep digging to discover the details of next week’s shipment.

  With my thoughts all over the place, I go home and pretend like tomorrow is just a normal day. We eat dinner like we’re a normal family, play with our girl and then when it’s time for bed, I lay there with my arms wrapped around Celeste. She drifts off to sleep and I stay awake thinking about everything I have and how desperate I am to keep them safe. I force my mind to shut down, convince myself tomorrow will be just like any other day. I’ll wake up, make Skylar breakfast and kiss my girls goodbye.

  Tomorrow comes.

  I kiss my girls goodbye like I said I would, strap my holster on when they walk out the door and load my guns. Strapped, locked and loaded I slip my leather vest on and meet my brothers at the garage. We drive for hours until we arrive at Stryker’s old stomping ground.

  He kisses Gina goodbye, leaves her in his mother’s capable hands and we take off, back to our turf, to the harbor we call our own. It’s unlike any other ride. It’s different from the final ride when we rode to Boston to reclaim our club.

  This is Stryker’s ride.

  This is Gina’s ride.

  And we’re all just there to make sure no one interferes with that.

  We arrive at the shipping yard and head to the dock where the three men who attacked Gina are about to meet the devil. Jack hands Stryker a rusted pipe and a dirty knife, signaling it’s time for our brother to get to work.

  As promised Rocco is already there. He opens the door to the container and lifts his cold eyes to us. The mobster who prides himself on designer clothes and appearances is a mess. He’s shed his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves and painted himself in the blood of the three men who violated his sister.

  “They’re all yours,” he sneers as he steps to the side and allows us room to enter the container.

  Staring at the three men who lay chained on top of one another with nothing but their cocks between them, I realize there is nothing normal about today. Buck naked, bloodied and beaten the three Russian cocksuckers cry out. Stryker walks over to them and everything goes silent.

  Revenge.

  For some it’s everything.

  For others it’s justice.

  Stryker raises the rusted pipe over his head.

  “You asked for this,” he sneers. “The way you were dressed, you asked for this,” he rasps, before slamming the pipe violently inside one man’s ass.

  Justice is served.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  By the time the holes were filled, and the dirt was turned, it was nearly four in the morning. We drove back to Albany and had breakfast with Stryker’s mother. It was like a scene out of Goodfellas, only instead of three mobsters, Claire Kincaid fed seven bikers. She didn’t feed us spaghetti she gave us pancakes. Thank fuck she didn’t pull out a painting she was working on or I would’ve expected Joe Pesci to come flying through the door. Instead, she pulled out a book she’d published—a romance novel.

  After breakfast we straddled our bikes and bid Claire farewell. Wolf got her number and told her anytime she wanted inspiration for her next novel he’d be happy to oblige. Of course he would. Man’s dying to put a ring on someone’s finger. I’m just glad he’s moved on from Celeste.

  Now back in Brooklyn, Deuce grabs the keys to one of the trucks parked at Pipe’s garage and drives me to the hospital. Missing my little girl, I decide I’m going to pull her from day care earl
y and take her to the park across from the hospital.

  “You should invest in a sidecar,” Deuce suggests as he pulls out of the lot.

  “I think Celeste might have a problem with Skylar riding a motorcycle just yet,” I reply with a laugh.

  I’m going to need to get myself a car. Especially now with another baby on the way, I can’t keep swapping my bike for Celeste’s car whenever I want to take my kids somewhere. It’s a bitch.

  “I need a car.”

  “Jesus,” Deuce hisses. “I’m gone a week and you’re talking crazy.”

  “She’s pregnant,” I offer, turning to face him. His eyes widen and dart to me.

  “No shit?”

  “We haven’t told anyone yet. Man, I saw her. I fucking heard her. Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful,” I say with a smile.

  “Her? You’re having another girl?”

  I shrug my shoulders and glance out the window.

  “It’s too soon to tell but I’m going with another girl.”

  “Congrats, dude,” he offers, patting me on the back. “If she’s anything like the first one you got, I’d say you’re one lucky bastard.”

  I am a lucky bastard but it’s hard to enjoy my good fortune when doom always seems to rip it away from me. It’s hard to allow myself to be happy, to think everything is going to go right for me this time. I think that’s why my mind has been racing the last few days. Yesterday, watching those men die, burying them deep in the earth—it wasn’t enough.

  It’s a fucked up thought and one I’m sure as hell not proud to be thinking, but it’s true. That was Stryker’s vengeance, not mine. I’ve never gotten mine and this whole shipment thing is sketchy. Not knowing what’s going to happen next, thinking one thing and being blindsided time and time again—it catches up to a man.

  It makes him bitter.

  Reckless.

  Anxious.

  That’s another reason I need a dose of my Skylar. I need to be grounded. I need to be reminded there is more than mayhem. I need soft blonde curls and big blue eyes to know I’m not Satan’s deadliest soldier anymore. I’ve got more than vengeance, I’ve got her.

  I’m a father now.

  Deuce pulls into the hospital parking lot and parks the van, causing me to knit my eyebrows in confusion.

  “You’re coming in?”

  “Yeah, man, I think I need a dose of your angel too,” he says. Killing the engine, he turns to me and swipes a hand over his face. “Been dancing with the devil over a week and I’m starting to question my sanity. You mind sharing your sunshine with me?”

  “She is sunshine, isn’t she?”

  “Don’t tell Jack, the bastard thinks he trademarked that with Reina, but yeah, your little girl is most definitely sunshine.”

  Yeah, she is. It’s the innocence of a child, the purity of her soul that drags a man away from the darkness that inebriates him. It’s her laughter, that smile that tugs at your black heart. It’s her love that has no bounds. It’s the trust she gives willingly…innocently.

  Deuce follows me up to the day care center where I spot her playing with blocks. I sign her out and make my way inside the play area. For a moment, I just watch her concentrate as she connects the blocks. Placing five or six together, she puts the tower down and claps her hands proudly. I feel my lips quirk as she applauds herself for a job well done then those eyes land on me.

  Blue like the sky.

  Bright like sunshine.

  They melt away all the rancid things I’ve done in the last twenty-four hours. My sins are repented.

  Lifting her in my arms, I give her a big kiss and escort her out of the day care center.

  “There she is,” Deuce says, pushing off the wall. “How’s my favorite gal?”

  Placing her down on her feet, she runs to Deuce and gives him a high five.

  “Cards!”

  “Sorry, babe, I left my cards back home,” he says as he drops down on his knee so he’s eye level with her. “You think we can still hang out?” Spotting the pink teddy bear in her hand, he points to it. “Who’s this?”

  “Teddy,” she says, giving her bear a tight squeeze.

  “Oh no, are you trading me in for Teddy?” he asks with a frown, before offering her his hand.

  Instead of giving him a high five like she did a moment a go, she tucks her bear under her arm and takes his hand before she tugs him down the corridor.

  “She loves me,” he brags.

  “Listen, I’m going to run upstairs and tell Celeste I signed her out. There’s an ice cream truck parked out front, get her an ice cream cone and I’ll meet you down there,” I tell him, bending down to kiss Skylar’s head.

  “I’m calling godfather to the next one,” he replies, turning back to Skylar. “Come on, girl, Uncle Deuce’s got you.”

  “Five minutes,” I call out as they walk hand in hand down the corridor. Forgetting all about me, Skylar looks up at Deuce and grins when he says something to her. Already giving me a run for my money, I realize I’m going to have my hands full when she gets older. It’s no surprise after all, her mother kept me on my toes, seems only right she does too.

  When they’re out of sight I make my way to the cardiac unit and find Celeste behind the nurse’s station. Digging into my pocket, I pull out a bag of M&M’s and drop them on the counter in front of her. Smiling, she reaches for the candy and lifts her head to me.

  “A man after my heart,” she teases.

  “I’m sure I already got that, babe. Just trying to hang onto it,” I say as I lean over the counter and slam my mouth over hers, not giving a damn if her co-workers see. I want the whole fucking world to know she’s mine. She doesn’t seem to mind too much and kisses me back, gripping the worn leather of my vest in her hands.

  A night without her is too much, makes me wonder how I survived on my own for so long with just my memories to keep me company at night. Before I’m unable to control myself, I inch back and smile at her.

  “Missed you,” she murmurs.

  “Clearly,” I reply with a wink. “How you feeling? Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s good, quit worrying,” she orders as she outlines my jaw with her index finger. “I don’t get off for another couple of hours,” she adds with a frown.

  “I know but since I’m home, I figured I’d take Skylar across the street to the park until you got out.”

  “Oh, she’ll love that. Do you want me to sign her out of day care?”

  “I did that already, she’s downstairs with Deuce getting ice cream.”

  “All right, well I’ll take my twenty minute break and come down to say goodbye to her before you guys head out,” she says, pushing back her chair. Turning to her co-workers she tells them she’s going for a break.

  Wrapping my arm around her waist, I drag her against me and kiss her head. When we get into the elevator, she can’t help but ask about the ride. Stupidly, I throw her a bone and tell her Gina is back in Brooklyn. She fires a hundred different questions at me, none of which I answer as we step outside. The last thing I hear her say is she’s going to call Gina.

  Then it happens.

  History repeats itself.

  “What’s going on?” she asks beside me.

  It’s the same exact question she asked me when we rounded the corner of my block after the football game. The hospital security guards rush out of the hospital, quickly pushing us out of the way as they run toward the street.

  Standing in the center of it all, I look around. I take in the woman shouting and the man pointing down the street. The flashing lights of the patrol cars temporarily blind me as the blue and whites jump out of the car and head for the ice cream truck.

  It’s chaos in its purest form.

  Panic.

  Dread.

  Fear.

  Releasing Celeste’s hands, I run into the street. My eyes frantically dart all around, searching for the mess of blonde curls and the big blue eyes, for Deuce’s tall frame and the reape
r on his back, but all I see is the flashing lights and the faces of people that mean nothing to me.

  The air rushes from my lungs as my heart pounds inside my chest.

  Then my worst nightmare becomes my reality and my stomach twists in knots as I spot the pink teddy bear in the street. Shaking my head, not willing to believe this is happening, my feet subconsciously move and I drift toward the scene of the crime.

  Crouching down on the asphalt I lift the teddy bear and glance around again, praying I’ll see her, that she’ll run to me and all will be right with the world.

  It doesn’t happen.

  Instead, I find Deuce’s phone shattered into a bunch of pieces two feet away from where the teddy bear was.

  I remember my mother’s scream. I remember hearing it long after she released it. I remember feeling it in my bones, how the desperate sound vibrated off the walls of our house the moment it left her throat.

  It’s not my mother’s scream this time.

  It’s Celeste’s.

  And it’s not my sister who has been taken.

  Not this time.

  This time, it’s my daughter who is gone.

  Gone without a trace.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  When you’ve suffered through one horrific tragedy you don’t think it’s possible to live through another until you realize the first tragedy, the one you thought broke you is nothing compared to the one you’re living now. You certainly don’t believe your child will be victimized by the same horrendous crime your best friend was or that you will now be the mother of a missing child.

  No one ever thinks their child will be one of the 1.3 million children that go missing in a year. So when it happens they’re not prepared. They don’t know what to expect. They don’t know until their whole world falls apart in a single second. There is no handbook when your child goes missing just like there isn’t a handbook on motherhood.

  One would think I would have been a little better prepared considering I have experienced a kidnapping before, that I had an advantage over the millions of other parents, but being the friend and the mother are two drastically different things.