No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

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No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book Page 22

by Morgan Kelley


  He knew how hard it hit Emma when he decided to give Tessa and Paris sperm. He finally understood how difficult it was for her to look at a pregnant Tessa now.

  Half of him was in another woman, and fate, like normal, decided to pay his ass back.

  His wife was willing to carry another man’s child.

  Well, fuck.

  Touché.

  “I don’t know what to do. I can tell you that it sucks for me to say yes, and it sucks for Chris if I say no. This sucks all around,” he said, drinking his bourbon.

  Yes, yes, it did.

  “I need to think about it for a while. I need to weigh my options.”

  And he would.

  It looked like sleep was going to be elusive.

  Great.

  “Thanks for what you did tonight,” Dimitri stated. “You really are my brother.”

  Greyson stood and put out his cigar.

  His whole gut was churning.

  Not because Chris had asked and been honest, but because he’d made Emma feel like this. When he’d said yes to Paris, it made him feel good. To him, he was doing something noble and just. He’d caused the man’s injury, so he was paying him back. Meanwhile, Emma had to go along with it or feel like she was the bad one.

  It never occurred to him before this moment how she had really felt. That was the hard pill he was being forced to swallow. She was silently carrying this.

  Jesus.

  Christ.

  He knew that he needed to really work through this.

  Somehow.

  “It’s not a problem, Dimitri. I’d do anything I can for you. You’re my brother,” he offered, knowing Chris was his brother too.

  Well, shit.

  “I’m heading to bed,” Greyson stated.

  Dimitri walked him to the door.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he offered. “Maybe you should go out with Chris and myself, so you can think things through?”

  He probably should.

  “I’ll decide tomorrow.”

  Dimitri left it at that.

  He had to.

  Greyson would talk when he wanted to, and not a second sooner.

  They were two of a kind.

  That was for damn sure.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Across Las Vegas

  Monday Late Night

  When he called the madam, she’d sent over one of her best girls. He didn’t pretend that he wasn’t going to get a little bit rough, but he did pretend he cared.

  He simply didn’t.

  A man had needs, and he wanted to make sure he got off. Money would buy a lot—it always did.

  It bought the last two girls and look how that ended.

  They were dumped like yesterday’s trash because they were beneath him.

  As long as the madam would keep sending them, he’d keep using them up.

  That was life.

  Supply and demand.

  He was a businessman—after all—making a name for himself in Las Vegas.

  When she came to his place, she was allowed inside, up the stairs, and to his room.

  They fucked like wild animals.

  In fact, he left marks on her that would never come off. He tossed her around, he beat her like the whore she was, and then when he was done, he dragged her downstairs to the basement, in his large beautiful home, and placed her on the table.

  Then…

  He cut her apart.

  As her blood splattered all over him, he had never felt more alive.

  In control.

  Powerful.

  As he placed her dismembered body in a bag and dropped it in his trunk, he knew it was time.

  First, he’d dump her.

  Then, he’d take a bath, and sleep.

  Tomorrow was a new day, and he was refreshed.

  Maybe he’d have lunch at the club.

  He was at peace.

  Killing did that for him.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Tuesday Morning

  Condo

  When Poppy woke up, she was lying in the middle of Dimitri’s big bed. She’d only had one nightmare, and she’d managed to soothe herself thanks to the scent of his cologne on his sheets.

  God!

  She’d missed it.

  They smelled like Dimitri, and that saved her from a night of panic attacks. Now, Poppy knew she was going to have to face down the man and his kids.

  There was no escaping it.

  The battle began—the one where she proved she wouldn’t hurt him again.

  Down the hall, she could hear Dimitri talking to them from the kitchen. It must be before school, breakfast time.

  When she went to put on her clothes from the floor, she wondered if he’d kept any of her things. Creeping to his closet, she walked in and found all of her things still hanging there.

  Exactly like she’d left them.

  Okay, so he didn’t hate her.

  Pulling down some clean things, she got dressed.

  It was time to face him and his kids. Maybe that was the part that freaked her out.

  Walking down the hall, it was like meeting them all over again. Would they welcome her? Hate her?

  Poppy feared the outcome.

  When she peeked out, Petra and Sam were sitting at the island in his kitchen, having pancakes. The little girl was talking more.

  It was clear she’d learned a bunch more words since she’d left. Poppy was sorry that she’d missed it. Truth be told, being there with them had always made her happy.

  If only she’d had a choice.

  As for Sam, he looked the same, and he was just as bold as ever. It was good to see some things didn’t change.

  “Why?” he asked, combatively.

  “Because I said so.”

  “BUT…”

  “Samuel Maximillian Gideon, you will not give your tutors crap today. Are we clear? Enough is enough.”

  Sam pouted but didn’t argue.

  “I said, are we clear?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Good,” Dimitri said, relaxing.

  It was then that Sam continued his unrelenting barrage of complaining.

  “I just think that Russian is a dying language,” he stated. “Why not stick to English?”

  “Because if you want to run my companies when you get older, you need to be more verse in your languages. I need you to at least try. You don’t have to speak them fluently.”

  “Shit,” stated Petra.

  Dimitri didn’t scold her.

  Instead, he glared at the boy.

  “And stop teaching your sister how to curse in English. Someone taught her that, and I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that it wasn’t her tutor.”

  He grinned.

  Dimitri was losing his cool. Having Poppy there was making him edgy. He’d checked on her earlier to make sure she didn’t try to run away. It was his constant fear.

  “No video games today.”

  Sam gasped like he’d been slapped.

  “I meant it, Sam. No.”

  The boy muttered.

  “You’re in a bitc…cranky mood,” he said, after his father lifted a brow in challenge. “You were in a better mood when the babe was here. When can she come back?”

  Dimitri, caught off guard by his question, dropped his coffee cup, and it shattered on the counter.

  He cursed in Russian despite his kids being right there. Yeah, that’s how irritable he was.

  Without answering, immediately, he began cleaning it up.

  Sam watched him with concern and worry.

  “Are you okay, Dad?” he asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  God!

  Dimitri wanted to rewind time three months back, and fix this before it could happen. He’d been so happy.

  They’d all been.

  Now they were all hanging in limbo waiting to see what happened.

  Instead of talking, he threw the shards
of mug away and poured another cup of coffee to steady himself.

  Dimitri was tired, he hadn’t slept well—not that lack of sleep was the aberration—it was his norm.

  “Dad?”

  Clearly, Sam wasn’t giving up.

  “I’m fine, Sam. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m the adult. It’s my job to worry about her. I mean you and Petra.”

  Sam was smart.

  He knew there was more to this than that. He knew his dad, and he’d gone somewhere yesterday.

  Then it hit him.

  “Are you sick?” he asked in horror, hoping that wasn’t the next possibility. He couldn’t lose his dad.

  “What?”

  “When I went to that shit public school, this kid’s mom disappeared a few times a week, and it turned out she was getting chemo. Are you dying?”

  Tears filled Sam’s eyes.

  “Oh, son,” Dimitri stated, moving around the island to reach him. When he got to him, he hugged him.

  “I’m not sick.”

  Sam didn’t get it.

  “Then what is it? You’re scaring me. Is it because the cop babe left?”

  Dimitri always swore he wouldn’t lie to his kids. Life would screw with them enough. He wouldn’t add to that. Truth was always the best so they’d trust you.

  “Yes.”

  Sam relaxed.

  “You miss her?”

  He did.

  Now he was pissed she’d left and afraid she’d do it again if he let his guard down.

  “We found her.”

  Sam smiled.

  “Then bone the babe, be happy, and let’s go to Disney,” he stated.

  Dimitri was appalled.

  “First, ‘bone the babe’ had better never come out of your mouth again, or I’m going to let Emma box your ears. Secondly, being happy isn’t the issue. My feelings aren’t the only ones that matter. Hers do too. Thirdly, you told me just last week that Disney was a sucking vortex of evil that brainwashed people with sugar-sweet music piped all over the place, and you’d rather be eaten by rats. Remember?”

  He smiled.

  “Am I wrong about that? I’d go if it made you happy. I’d drink the grape Kool-Aid for you.”

  Jesus.

  What was he going to do with this kid? Instead of asking, he gave him a kiss on the top of the head.

  “Thank you for that, son.”

  “Why are you all worked up? I don’t understand. You like her, she likes you, and that’s easy, right?”

  Ahhh, to be a child.

  “No, Sam, it’s not that cut-and-dry.”

  “Why not?”

  “Poppy was hurt, and then she left.”

  How did one explain this to his son? How did one even go there with a child? How much did Sam know about the birds and the bees? Or rape?

  This was one of those times when he wished he could clone Emma to keep a copy around. She would know how to handle this.

  He.

  Did.

  Not.

  “Did she get shot? Should we get flowers? I know Uncle Grey said when in doubt, buy the babe flowers. They love them—but I don’t get why. They die. The flowers, hopefully not the babe,” Sam clarified in case there was a doubt.

  “I don’t think that would work in this case, and no, she wasn’t shot.”

  “Then what?”

  Dimitri rubbed his temples.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Clearly.

  “She was hurt, and let’s leave it at that. It’s not really your business to know.”

  Sam did NOT give up.

  Shocking.

  “Aren’t you going to marry her? That would make her my mom, and then I’m pretty sure it’s my business.”

  “I don’t know if I will be.”

  That confused him.

  “Why?”

  “Sam.”

  “Dad?”

  “Sam, please.”

  “Dad, really.”

  He wasn’t going to give up. So, Dimitri knew if he wanted peace, he had to offer something up.

  “She left Sam. That’s a pretty good indicator that she wants NOTHING to do with me. Yes, she left because she was hurt, but she didn’t think about how I’d feel. She is in the ‘I stand alone’ mentality, and what do we tell you about family?”

  “We stick like dog shit on your shoe.”

  “SAM! I know for a fact that is NOT how we phrased it,” he stated. “Try again.”

  “Family is all you have in life. If you can’t trust them, then you can’t trust anyone.”

  Exactly.

  “Poppy doesn’t trust me. I can’t marry someone who doesn’t love my kids, that would be you two, or someone I have to hunt down. I can’t chase a woman all over the place. I need trust and I need to be trusted. That’s not a lot to ask.”

  Sam got it.

  “Like when you said you trust me not to steal Uncle Grey’s car?”

  “Yes, like that.”

  Then he paused when the boy wouldn’t look him in the eye. That couldn’t be good.

  “You haven’t, have you? Only because I find it odd that was your first example, and I know you.”

  He grinned.

  “I haven’t stolen anything as of late. Last time I did, Aunt Emma made me put my hand on her belly and I felt the goo-monster move. That’s fuc…”

  He stopped him.

  “No video games for two days if you drop that word. I’m not even kidding. This isn’t some slum or brothel. You will learn to speak like a gentleman in front of ladies. There is a time and place. This is NOT the place—in case you were confused.”

  Sam closed his mouth.

  Then he tried to make his dad feel better.

  “I’m sorry she betrayed your trust and snuck out behind your back, making you worry about her for three months.”

  He laughed.

  “A child gets it, but I don’t think the adult does. That’s all kinds of ironic.”

  Poppy heard that, and it broke her heart.

  Jesus.

  She wasn’t the only one who was damaged. While she’d been raped, Dimitri was suffering too. It had to be hard for him to watch it happen.

  He had to be feeling helpless.

  Shit.

  Poppy wished she hadn’t run. Only, he didn’t have all of the facts. She was protecting him. If she stayed, Jeffrey Raye would have hurt him.

  Poppy had no choice.

  It was time to fix this.

  Taking a deep breath, she figured it was time. Heading out, Dimitri saw her first, and he shut the conversation down.

  “Morning,” she stated, keeping her voice neutral.

  Sam spun around and stared at her.

  “Hey!”

  She smiled at him.

  “Hey, Mr. Sticky Fingers,” she said.

  “I keep telling you all that I’m not stealing!” Sam said in exasperation.

  “Take a chill pill, mini man,” she said, keeping it light. “I meant that your fingers are literally sticky from the pancake syrup, and your sleeve. It’s in it. What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to make it sound like she’d not been eavesdropping on their private conversation.

  Petra turned around in her chair and smiled at her.

  “Babochka!” she squealed.

  Poppy saw her touching the necklace she’d given her. It touched her heart.

  In that minute, she realized something.

  She didn’t only miss him, she missed them. Poppy missed both of these kids. She missed Sam’s smart-ass comments and Petra’s innocence.

  Hers had been lost so many years ago.

  And again, recently.

  “Sam, go get ready for school,” Dimitri stated, trying to stay calm. It was hard. She looked lovely, and he felt the need to feed her. Dimitri wanted to get some of the lost weight back on her body.

  “Fine, Dad,” he muttered.

  He hopped down and headed her way. When he stood before her, he stared up at
her.

  “I’m sorry you were hurt, Poppy. I know when I was hurt, and someone broke my arm because I had secretly eaten food, I was sad. My dad made it better. He can fix you too.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Yeah, if she could get him to forgive her and see that she wouldn’t leave again.

  Sam hugged her.

  “Oh, Sam.”

  “Don’t run,” he whispered. “He’s a good man. He deserves someone to love him. Please love him. I’ll be good. I promise,” he added.

  She kissed him on the top of the head. This boy was wise for his years, and for that, she was glad and sorry. A child should be a child. She knew she never had that, nor Dimitri. She wished she could give that back to Sam.

  “I hear you, Sam. Wash your hands. You smell maple-y. That won’t bring the babes to the yard. It’ll bring moose.”

  He laughed.

  “Babes are gross. Moose are cool.”

  Off he went.

  Dimitri watched her.

  His heart hurt.

  It was hard to believe that she was standing in his home in sweats and a t-shirt, and he’d missed her. He’d shed so many tears for her.

  Over her.

  When Petra hopped down, she headed toward her and held her arms out to be picked up.

  Poppy did, and the little girl grabbed her face with her hands and kissed her on the mouth.

  That one action was too much for her to handle. It reminded her what she’d had to give up to save them.

  And now he hated her, and she might never get it back.

  The damn broke.

  Poppy tried to soothe her.

  As she wept.

  Chapter Six

  Penthouse

  Tuesday Morning

  Sky Villa

  W hen his phone rang, waking him up, it also woke his sleeping wife beside him. Greyson reached for it, hoping whoever it was had a damn good reason to be calling him—like the building was on fire.

  The shrill ringing wasn’t exactly the way he liked waking up. It reminded him that today he had a plethora of things to do and the bourbon headache to go with it.

  Yeah, they’d had a few too many last night, and he’d had more when he came back to the penthouse and stressed over what Chris had told them.

  As he fell asleep, there still wasn’t a resolution.

 

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