Renny (The Henchmen MC #6)

by Jessica Gadziala

  "Janie loses her shit all the time," Renny said, smiling affectionately.

  "Yeah, no. She snapped. Was ordering us around and shit. It was nuts. And the cop on the case, Marco, would not be bribed. He was a fucking hardhead. Was in no one's pockets. Janie enlisted Eli and had his ass kicked, found out something was off with him, did some digging, and realized he was an Abruzzo."

  "And that is a bad thing because..." Duke went on.

  "Janie just wanted Wolf out of jail. She went to the Grassis and told them the Abruzzos were in town, figured she would create some chaos. The Grassis don't want any other Italians stepping in on their turf, understandably enough. Marco was never heard from again, though we have no proof that they killed him. We thought that was the end of it."

  "You never stopped to wonder if they were after the arms trade?" Renny asked. "Taking out Wolf seemed pretty planned. Especially over something like Lex Keith's murder. The cops wanted him put down just as badly as everyone else..."

  "We considered it," Cash said, running a hand up the shaved side of his head. "But that was the end of everything. Wolf got out of jail. Things went back to normal. None of us have heard the fucking Abruzzo name since then."

  "Until now," Renny said, exhaling hard.

  "So they were having a meeting with the Grassis," Reign said, tone deceptively calm. "The were making a power move, trying to get in good with the importers before they took over fully. Getting connections."

  "They're fucking glorified goddamn pimps on Long Island," Repo said suddenly, jaw clenched tight. "The fuck makes them think they can overtake the gun trade in Jersey?"

  "The fact that they obviously have almost already accomplished that goal?" I asked, realizing my mistake when all their eyes snapped to me, angry. All except Renny who was pressing his lips together like he was trying to hold back a smile.

  I was not a blurter. I didn't let my mouth run away with me. Everything I said was carefully thought out and filtered to produce the reaction I wanted. And having four angry bikers pissed at me and one amused by me, was absolutely not the reaction I wanted.

  What was wrong with me?

  "What I am saying is," I tried, taking a breath, "that they have obviously outgrown their prostitution ring. And they must have new leadership that is hungry for bigger and better for themselves. This has been carefully orchestrated. I mean that thing with Wolf was years ago. I don't think I need to tell you that having an opponent as patient as that, as persistent as that is really dangerous. They are in this for the long haul. And, I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you are weak right now. You are down to five capable members. Even if you can find them and go after them... you won't be able to do it with brute force. You'll have to..."

  I was cut off by the blaring of a horn outside. My eyes went to Cash and he gave me a strained smile. "That'd be my woman," he said, getting up and moving toward the door, hitting the button for the gate.

  Lo came charging in two minutes later, Malcolm and L in toe. If Lo was our badass mother figure up at Hailstorm, then Malcolm was our badass father. Ex-military, skilled, capable, calm, caring, and focused, he cared for every last one of us like we were family. Which, given that he had none of his own, was likely how he felt.

  L was, well, an enigma.

  He had been at Hailstorm for the better part of two years and my file on him was all but blank. I had a picture where he was as obnoxiously good-looking in a candid shot of him drinking his Big Gulp full of coffee as he was in person- mid-twenties, dark, shaggy hair, dark eyes, perfect bone structure. I had a couple scribbles about the fact that he was very likely the smartest person I had ever come into contact with. He was also blunt, sarcastic, and reclusive.

  What he was doing there, I had no idea. He, like me, generally preferred to work from a distance. Though I had no idea what his specialty even was.

  "You guys know Malcolm," Lo said, waving her hand toward him. "This is L. They're here to help us make a plan."

  Malcolm made sense. Being ex-military, he knew all about covert operations, sneaking up on the enemy, making a plan that wouldn't blow up in everyone's faces, even if they only had five able-bodied men left. Whole armies had been taken down by less.

  I fell back, leaning against the wall to watch as L moved into the center of the room, pulling a pile of folders out of his black, busted-up messenger bag. "The Abruzzo family," he said, handing out the files. "Ten years ago, they were nobodies. Then Ricky Sr. died suddenly and, if you ask anyone in the know, suspiciously, and Ricky Jr. stepped up. Little Ricky, named ironically because he's about a fucking thousand pounds, wasn't happy pimping out poor women and liberally taking use of them whenever he damn well pleased anymore. He set his sights higher. And since New York has too many established syndicates, they set their sights on Jersey."

  He moved back from the group as they flipped through the pages, looking at the pictures for a second, but giving L most of their attention. "Little Ricky even had his cousin Marco go through the fucking academy and join the police force. Not, at first, to lock you guys all up, but to have someone on the inside to hide evidence when they eventually did gain power. Though, he has been missing since after Janie had Eli put him in the hospital. That thing with Wolf, that was just a smart move to bring him in."

  "Why us?" Duke asked. "Got tons of crime around here. The Mallicks and their loan sharking, Breaker and Shooter with their hired muscle and contract killing, Lyon and his cocaine, Third Street and their heroin and shit, Grassis and their docks. Why us? Why the arms trade?"

  "Best fucking guess," L said, shrugging, "it's easiest."

  "Easy?" Reign scoffed, brows drawing together.

  L held up a hand, not the kind of man who put up with overt displays of testosterone-driven anger. "It's easier. There isn't a whole hell of a lot of daily effort. You don't have to go out every day and beat the shit out of people like the Mallick family. You don't have to inspect shipping containers like the Grassi family. You don't have to find reliable contacts in South America like Lyon who can get cocaine in this country. You don't need to travel like Shooter or deal with the scum of the Earth like Breaker. As for Third Street, well, they're a pathetic force these days. Paine and Enzo held them together. They've been flailing since. There's nothing to take over there right now."

  "We don't exactly sit on our fucking hands all day," Reign said, shaking his head. "The Abruzzo family thinks it wants to go off to meeting with the Russians and Irish and Mexicans and Chinese all the fucking time? Do they have any fucking idea how unpredictable they all are?"

  "I imagine they figure since you have had peace for so long that all your relations are solid. Who the fuck do I have to fuck to get some coffee around here?" he blurted out suddenly, making me let out a surprised laugh before pushing off the wall and walking to the kitchen.

  "Don't worry about the payment," I said as I passed him, "you're not my type, L."

  He was actually. Except he was too young.

  "You're not my type either," he said casually, not bothering to sugarcoat it, as was his nature.

  I moved into the kitchen, glad to be out of there, to be away from the almost overwhelming swirling emotions in the other room. Quiet, it had felt like forever since I got any.

  At least back at Hailstorm, there was always somewhere I could sneak away to to get some peace. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot of places to escape at The Henchmen compound, especially with the kids running around.

  "What's that kid's story?" Renny asked as I was scrubbing the coffee pot.

  "He doesn't have one he is willing to share," I shrugged.

  "And you accept that?" Renny asked, sounding surprised.

  "People deserve to have their secrets at times."

  "Bullshit," he shot back, making my head snap over to him, finding him watching me.

  "It's not bullshit."

  "It is complete and utter bullshit," he said, shaking his head. "You don't believe that at all. I'd bet you have files on every
other fucking person at Hailstorm. And, for that matter, everyone who is a major player in this town." He wasn't wrong, so I just turned back and rinsed out the pot, filling it with fresh water. I went over to pour it into the machine, finding Renny standing right near it and too stubborn to move so my shoulder and arm brushed his chest as I filled the machine. "What does my file say, sweetheart?"

  I felt my belly wobble at the low, intimate way he asked, his breath warm on my ear, making a shiver move through my insides.

  The familiar warning alarm was going off somewhere inside, but it seemed more muffled, lost under the heavy blanket of desire.

  I had been there too long. I had been around Renny and his flirting for too long. He was wearing me down. And that was not good.

  I made my hand lift, hitting the button for the machine, taking a deep breath as it started to drip.

  And it was right about then that his hand moved out to my hip then slid across my back, landing on the other hip and using it to turn me toward him. Already standing so close, our chests pressed into each other and my breasts forgot we were supposed to be resisting him and swelled in desire.

  "You're losing those defenses..." he said, his arm tightening around my lower back. "You gonna admit you want me yet?" he asked, his voice deeper.

  "Renny, I..."

  "Where the hell is L's coffee?" Lo's voice called. "He's going to come to blows with Repo at this rate... oh..." she said as I sprang away from Renny, my face heating.

  "It's dripping," Renny said easily, obviously not as embarrassed about being caught as I was. "If he wants, he can come in here and stick his head under it and drink it as it comes out, he's welcome. Though I don't think the insurance here covers third degree burns from idiot coffee drinkers."

  "Idiot," Lo mused, pressing her lips together, her brown eyes dancing. "I think I might just tell him you called him that." Then she looked over at me, her head cocking to the side. "Mina, come take a walk with me," she invited, nodding toward the door.

  What was left of The Henchmen generally didn't spend much time out on their property. They were too few and too valuable. But Lo and I could walk around freely as the Abruzzo family didn't seem overly invested in taking any of us out. Which was a smart move on their part. No matter how big their operation had gotten, they didn't want to mess with Hailstorm.

  "So, Renny, huh?" she asked as soon as we stepped outside, turning and waving at the kids who were up in the DARPA glass enclosure on the roof- nothing, no firearm in the world, could penetrate that glass. They were as safe as could be up there.

  "No, Lo," I objected immediately, shaking my head.

  "It didn't look like a no in the kitchen," she added.

  "Renny is a flirt," I brushed it off.

  "He is," she agreed with a nod. "But I have seen you shatter a man's ego with a few carefully chosen words when they wouldn't back off before."

  That was true enough. "Renny isn't like most guys."

  "Because he is like you," she nodded. "You know, I would think it would be almost refreshing to find that- someone who gets how you are. I don't see any relief in you though. If anything, you're tense. What are you so afraid of here? That you won't be able to keep up appearances? That if he gets in, he will see that your life isn't quite as neat as it seems, that you aren't quite as perfectly controlled as you want people to believe?"

  That was exactly it.

  There was a legitimate reason that very few people wanted to be exposed emotionally. It made you vulnerable. It gave people with bad intentions the ability to hurt you in a more lasting way.

  No one wanted to expose the hidden parts of themselves to someone unless they knew that person was trustworthy.

  I didn't feel that way about Renny.

  He was too unpredictable, too up and down.

  And he had used information he had gained on his own people against them in the past. I didn't need that kind of uncertainty in my life.

  "I can't trust him, Lo," I admitted. "It's not like you and Cash. It's not..."

  "I know we're so stupidly in love that it's sick," she cut me off. "But it wasn't always that way. It certainly didn't start that way. He didn't like me because he didn't approve of what we did at Hailstorm. I had no interest in being a notch on his very, very long belt. And we butted heads and we sniped at each other and we didn't get along. But he proved himself. Sometimes you need to give men that chance."

  "To prove themselves?" I asked, shaking my head. "I think their actions and lifestyle should..."

  "But they don't," she cut me off again. "They don't. Sometimes men get stuck in a spiral of sport sex and responsibility-shirking and hanging out with their buddies who do the same thing, not realizing that they want more. Until more shows up."

  "Right, but we're not talking about his whoring around. I don't care about that. It would be weird if he didn't, to be perfectly honest. I'm talking about the fact that he's deceptive and he is unpredictable and he..." I waved out a hand, not sure what else to say. For me, that was enough.

  "You know, Mina," she said, stopping suddenly when we found ourselves under a big tree at the far end of the yard, in the field where Repo had some of his cars situated again since the garage was burned down. "Sometimes it's good to not be able to read someone, to not be able to dig around in their brains. You have been the way you are for so long that I think you forget that that is not how relationships between people work. You see what is going on inside someone because they choose to tell you. They put their faith to rest in you. They believe they can trust you to handle that information with care. Maybe if you gave Renny a chance to give you some of himself, he would."

  "But that doesn't change the fact that I don't think I can trust him."

  "You'll never know unless you give him the chance to prove that you can, babe."

  She wasn't exactly wrong. And I wasn't exactly crazy about that.

  "Besides," I said, shrugging, "relationships aren't in the cards for me."

  "Why? Because you travel a lot? Mina, I travel a lot too. Cash is a big boy, he gets on without me when I have to go. Plus, the welcome home sex is always hot," she added with a smirk. "Don't let the job keep you from the more important things in life, honey."

  I wasn't sure the last time I was with a man who I would call a boyfriend or partner or anything more than a fling or a friend with benefits. It had to have been years. Several, if I was being honest.

  Most of that, I was sure, was my own damn fault. It was always just too hard for me to open up, to let down my guards, to be real with someone. And it was selfish to try to tell a guy to hang around, to let me take a year to get over my hangups. That was just unrealistic. It was easier to ignore the reality completely.

  Occasionally, I would go on a date or two.

  And, once in a while, I would take a man to bed, albeit somewhat rarely because it tended to only complicate things.

  But as a whole, I avoided entanglements.

  It made everyones' lives easier.

  Why, all of a sudden, it was such a big deal, well, I was going to go ahead and blame that on the fact that I was never in the same place for so long with a guy who couldn't take a hint.

  It had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with Renny.

  It could have been any guy in any city in any country around the world. It just so happened to be him I was stationed around for so long.

  "It's your life and you're a grown woman, Mina, and I would be the first woman to tell you that you don't need a man to have a good, fulfilling life. I just don't want you to be so closed-off to the possibility on some kind of bullshit principle. Having a man isn't going to strip you of your uniqueness or your skills, babe. I don't care how good his dick is, he can't steal your spark with it," she said with a wink. "Besides," she went on, starting to move away from me, "your job here is almost done. Take a ride on that man before you're off to fucking Chicago or Boise or wherever the hell you're heading next."

  At that declaration, at the realiz
ation that my time was coming to an end at The Henchmen compound, I didn't feel relief like I should have. I was almost always happy to complete a job, to be able to move on, to get back to the compound or to see a new city.

  It was in my blood.

  That was how I was raised- to never put down roots.

  It had gotten so that, over time, I wasn't sure I could grow them if I wanted to.

  I sighed, sitting down at the bottom of the tree, looking off at the compound for a long time, trying not to get too down on myself over something that wasn't my fault.

  We all had our damages, our traumas, our origin stories.

  Mine, thankfully, was not tragic like many of the people who ended up at Hailstorm. Mine just involved a withholding mother and a workaholic father whose job took him all over the world at a moment's notice. So I never got to learn how to make connections, how to open up to new people. It was always a wasted effort in my life. As soon as I tried to get to that point, it was time to move on.

  Why bother?

  But, for the first time, the idea of never bothering seemed really sad and empty.

  FOUR

  Renny

  The L guy was like an encyclopedia of crime families. Ask him anything from fucking Lucky Luciano's shoe size to who is running the mob in Nowheresville, USA and he had an answer for you. So when everyone got their confusion and outrage out of the way, he sat down with his giant cup of coffee and gave us all the dirt he had on the Abruzzo family. And he knew a lot.

  Like Little Ricky was power hungry and while he didn't often involve himself in the hands-on aspect of things, according to L because he literally couldn't walk down his driveway without having a near cardiac episode, he had his men becoming increasingly violent since he took over. Their prostitutes got knocked around a lot more, got smaller cuts of the money. And, apparently, they had graduated to cold-blooded murder.

  The scary part was, for all L knew and he knew a fuckuva lot, he had no idea where they were. Well, Little Ricky was sitting pretty in his mini mansion on Long Island, but there was no accounting for who the men were in Navesink Bank and where they were located.