Mob Justice

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Mob Justice Page 4

by Kelley, Morgan


  He stopped.

  “Had a better security company.”

  Croft laughed. He knew the man meant felonious things. Heath wasn’t as strict with the moral code. If someone had to die, he was good with it—as long as you offered up some baked goods.

  He was a gun for pastry hire.

  “Yeah, I know. I love Heath. He’s a good guy. I’m glad I could steal him away from the Blackhawks.”

  They’d gotten damn lucky.

  Heath loved Emma, and he was all about keeping all of them safe—especially now that Greyson wouldn’t let Dimitri be security. He was family.

  He needed protection too.

  The seedy underbelly of Vegas was gunning for all of them, and they hadn’t gotten all of the backlash yet from Babylon’s demise.

  Who knew what was coming?

  “We have Chris on Emma. We have Heath on us when we head out, and Ilan Hyde is following Poppy. Plus, we have David on Dante and Steele. Paris said he is fine, and so is Tessa. Curtis is still on paternity leave, and likely won’t leave the condo. He’s with Kat and the baby.”

  Well, that was good to know.

  The family was covered in case the commissioner, or Babylon’s buddies, got any ideas.

  The shit hadn’t hit the fan quite yet.

  Once they interviewed his missing wife’s sister, who knew what the commissioner would throw at them?

  With that man, one never knew.

  “Well, I should go talk to Sam,” Dimitri said, still stalling. It was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “You can do it,” Greyson stated. “You have this, bro.”

  “He’s not going to take it well,” Dimitri stated. “He’s going to be upset.”

  “Sam will get over it. The kid has been through a lot, but he knows you love him. He was just saying how he wanted to be just like you when you grew up.”

  “You mean when he grows up,” Dimitri stated.

  “No, no, I did not,” he teased.

  Dimitri knew he was trying to cheer him up. He only hoped Sam wouldn’t hold it against him.

  He took the beer from Greyson’s hand and then chugged it before handing the empty bottle back to him. He needed that more than he did.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  Oh, he would.

  Heading out, Dimitri took the elevator down three floors to his condo. Once inside, he could hear Sam butchering the Russian language.

  No, butchering was neater.

  It was a slaughter.

  “I hate this language,” he stated. “Why do I have to learn it?” he asked his tutor.

  “Because your father wants you to learn a language, and the state of Nevada requires you to have two years before you can get your diploma. Why not start early?” she asked.

  “Because it sucks. English is hard enough. I don’t like learning a language.”

  “Well, do you know what else sucks?” she asked. “Little boys who use improper grammar, so learn your Russian, and we’ll call it a day.”

  He sighed.

  When Dimitri walked in, he was trying not to laugh. He recalled when he’d hired Markie. Sam had thought she’d be a pushover, but she wasn’t. She handled his sass and gave it back when it was needed.

  That was perfect.

  Sam threw down plenty of sass.

  “Markie, you can head out. I’ll work on his Russian with him.”

  “Are you qualified?” Sam asked.

  Dimitri tried not to laugh.

  “Probably not according to the state of Nevada and a few Federal agencies.”

  Markie grabbed her books and packed them away.

  “Oh, and he ate candy, failed his spelling test, and referred to me as a hot piece of ass.”

  Dimitri pointed at him.

  “Apologize.”

  He sighed.

  “Markie, I lied. You aren’t a hot piece of ass. You’re a snitch. Sorry.”

  She patted him on the head.

  “Good luck, Mr. Gideon. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight if he doesn’t overthrow this government by then.”

  She headed out.

  “If you make her quit, Sam, I will hire another tutor, and the next one will be a man.”

  The boy scowled.

  He’d been cut off.

  “What are you doing here?” Sam asked, changing the subject to get out of Russian practice.

  “Uh, I live here.”

  Sam flipped his pencil and didn’t say anything.

  “Are you in a bad mood?” Dimitri asked him. “It’s not like you be nasty to Markie.”

  He shrugged.

  “What’s going on, Sam?”

  “I heard through the family grapevine that you’re adopting a new child.”

  Well, so much for him not telling him until he could figure out what the hell to say. This boy was definitely his child. The kid had ears everywhere.

  “I know you wouldn’t do that to me. I just got you, and that would mean that I now have to share you.”

  Dimitri sat across from him.

  “Sam.”

  The way he said his name said it all.

  Sam’s face fell.

  “She needs a…”

  He cut him off.

  “You didn’t even ask me! What about how I feel?” he asked. “What about me, Dimitri?”

  That caused him to lift a brow.

  “Pardon me, Sam? Did you just call me by my name and very disrespectfully at that?”

  This wasn’t his first time with insolence. He’d raised two girls. Sam had NOTHING on that hormonal nightmare.

  NOTHING.

  “Well, you aren’t my dad, so does it matter? I don’t want to learn Russian. I don’t want anyone else added to our family. I picked you because it was just you!”

  Dimitri let him vent.

  He knew that with Kat and Natasha, they got frustrated when they didn’t know how to react, and sometimes, it was about being the whipping boy until the storm passed.

  “Had I known you were going to do this to me, I could have picked someone else! Now, I have to compete for your time even more! I should have been asked! It was fine with just us and no one else!”

  “Sam, there’s extenuating circumstances…”

  He didn’t care.

  Sam cut him off again.

  “I don’t want to be your son anymore! Rip up the papers and set me free! You are just collecting kids! That’s all I am. You don’t want me anymore. I’m just someone you took on out of pity!”

  “Sam, that’s not true. I…”

  He stood.

  “I don’t want to be here. I’m out.”

  He walked away.

  “Samuel Maximillian Gideon! Get back here!”

  The bedroom door slammed.

  Dimitri leaned back and closed his eyes. This was exactly why he didn’t tell Sam. He didn’t want to deal with this, and he didn’t want to hurt him.

  Getting up, he prepared for more battle.

  At the door, he turned the knob and opened it.

  “Sam, what are you doing?” he asked, as he watched the boy pack his bag.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Yeah, no, you’re not. Whether you like it or not, I’m your father, and you aren’t leaving this condo.”

  “I don’t want to be Sam Gideon. I’m Sam Kincaid. I’ll be fine out there. At least I won’t get hurt. You don’t want me anymore! I’m being replaced!”

  “Sam, I am not replacing you. I love you. If you’d let me explain.”

  “I don’t love you. I hate you.”

  And there it was.

  It stung worse than when he’d been shot. In that moment, he didn’t realize how much this boy had meant to him until he’d taken away his love.

  The anger was gone.

  There was only hurt.

  Dimitri closed his mouth.

  This was a first. With his sisters, they’d been hard. They’d both been so broken, but neither of them ever said that to him. Neither of t
hem told him they hated him.

  Ever.

  Neither of them had ever told that to him to his face. If they thought it, it was never spoken out loud, and for a reason. It was a shot right to his heart. They all had emotional scars, and that was one of his.

  He’d lost someone’s love.

  Again.

  “I see, Mr. Kincaid. If that’s how you feel, then so be it. I always promised I’d fight hard if I had to, but I can’t fight that. You hate me. I get it. I’ll give you your space.”

  “Fine! What do you care? I know I’m on my way out! I know you will replace me. You have a second kid coming. We only have two bedrooms. I won’t be staying. It’s only a matter of time!”

  Dimitri stepped away.

  He wasn’t one to yell at a child. God knew he’d been screamed at all through his youth. So, he’d give Sam space as he tried to get over those words.

  He really loved the boy.

  He’d found his way beneath the defenses and into his heart. Dimitri was so fond of him, and he was his son.

  His only son.

  The only boy he’d ever have.

  Only, Dimitri couldn’t fight.

  He had nothing left inside him. He’d done battle for Katerina. He’d done battle for Natasha. He’d done battle for everyone, and he was empty.

  Dimitri was barely holding on.

  So, he opted to walk away.

  “Goodbye!” Sam shouted as Dimitri headed away from him. He went out to the couch and sat until he could compose himself to address Sam. When the boy walked past him, to the door, and then out, Dimitri called Heath downstairs.

  “Yo, boss, what’s up?”

  “Sam is on the move. Keep an eye on him if he leaves the building. He’s pissed at me. Don’t let him get hurt.”

  “Okay, boss. I can handle it. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dimitri hung up the phone, leaned back on his couch, and stared up at the ceiling.

  And he cried.

  His heart was broken.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  LVPD

  Poppy was at her desk.

  Around her, there were cops, detectives, and people moving about, and she was acutely aware of them. As of late, she was having to stay on her A game. She couldn't risk it with the commissioner gunning for her.

  Still, she was thinking about Dimitri Gideon.

  How could she not?

  When she arrived at work, she’d gotten another box and inside of it was another business card with Aquarius on the front, and his cell phone number on the back.

  Or what she assumed was his cell number. Since she’d yet to call it, she couldn’t be sure.

  So, she tucked it away.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have a drink with him and spend the evening in his company.

  She absolutely did.

  It was that she didn’t want him in danger. She was digging through a shit storm, and she knew that if he was even seen with her, the commissioner would take aim at him.

  Forget her career.

  The man was ruthless.

  Poppy didn’t want Dimitri hurt again. He’d been shot and barely survived, and she couldn’t be taken out that way. It would be too suspicious.

  Besides, Poppy could take care of herself—or so she hoped. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. The other cops around her were looking at her.

  They were whispering.

  Maybe it was her imagination, and maybe it was just paranoia, but something was going on. As of yet, she’d not been given a partner.

  That was a big red flag.

  She was a cop on her own in the field.

  Poppy knew why the commissioner had done it. He knew why there was never going to be a partner. One, she wouldn’t trust anyone they’d assigned to her.

  Two, he wanted her isolated.

  If she was out working cases alone, and she was without backup on the street, she’d be vulnerable.

  He was trying to make her quit and run from being a detective. It was payback.

  There was no doubt in her mind.

  Well, she was tougher than that. She wasn’t going to run and be scared of the man. He couldn’t hurt her. If anything happened to her, he’d be screwed.

  So, she was going to bide her time and keep her eyes open. That would save her ass.

  As she worked, she heard her name being called.

  “Detective Wayne?”

  She looked up.

  “Yeah?”

  It was the desk sergeant standing in the bullpen doorway. He was holding a piece of paper.

  “You have a case. Head on out.”

  She pulled her gun from her desk and strapped it to her hip. As she headed out, there were more whispers. There were more looks.

  Poppy knew that her time there was limited as long as the commissioner was there. Something had to give.

  And soon.

  Once the people she’d worked with turned on her, too, she’d have to leave.

  Damn the commissioner.

  Damn his crooked ways.

  Someone, anyone, had to take him down and clean up this shithole town. There had to be a way to get him out of office and clean up the city.

  Outside, she grabbed the paper from the sergeant and headed out the door.

  Poppy could swear she was being watched.

  As she stood beside her work ride, she looked around. She didn’t see anyone suspicious, but the hair on the back of her neck was standing.

  Hopping in, she headed out.

  She had a dead victim to worry about.

  She’d stress about herself later.

  When she was home.

  Safe.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Sky Villa

  Greyson found him in the room across from theirs. Chris had moved into the other bedroom because he wanted to be close to Emma.

  He was fine with it.

  After nearly losing her, Chris didn’t want to risk anything happening to her. He felt that if he was within shouting distance, he could get to her fast.

  Yeah, that said it all.

  The man was one freak-out away from institutionalization.

  As Emma was taking a nap, it was a good time to handle the Chris situation.

  Before his wife killed him.

  And she would.

  Knocking on the door, he heard the man invite him to enter his room. When he opened the door, Chris was in a towel and nothing else.

  “Uh, what if that was my wife?” he asked.

  Chris smiled at him.

  And there it was.

  “Oh, no. Whatever would I do?” Chris teased.

  Greyson realized that Emma had been right. The smile was a little too big, the cheery was forced, and it wasn’t like him. While he knew Chris had feelings for Emma, when he teased him, at least it was genuine.

  This was NOT genuine.

  Chris was hollow.

  How did Greyson know?

  He’d been there.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Okay, come on in,” he said, grabbing his boxers and jeans before heading into the bathroom to get changed.

  Greyson sat on the bed.

  “What’s going on, Chris?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I was showering. What time are we going to Aquarius?” he asked.

  “We aren’t going to Aquarius. It’s time for you to come clean.”

  He peeked his head out.

  “Pardon?”

  “You’re off your game, and while the commissioner is still walking free, I don’t know who else he’s going to send at Emma. I need your head in the game. You’re not.”

  He came out zipping up his fly. It wasn’t lost on Greyson that Chris and Emma had matching scars in the center of their chests over their hearts.

  That said a lot to him.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Real
ly…”

  “I’m sorry, but you’re benched. You can stay here. We have some things going down, and you can watch the new girl who is coming.”

  “Greyson, I’m good.”

  Then he paused.

  “Wait! What new girl? Security?”

  He told him about Dimitri’s sister, what she’d been through, and when she was arriving.

  “Then Emma should stay here with me. She’ll be safer,” he offered. “I can keep an eye on her better.”

  Greyson watched the man.

  Chris wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “Are you planning to steal my wife away from me?” he asked.

  The man looked horrified.

  “WHAT?”

  Okay, it wasn’t that.

  If he wasn’t planning a woman coup d’état then his wife was right. Chris was carrying some serious emotional baggage that he needed help lightening.

  Here went nothing.

  “You need to talk about Natasha.”

  There.

  It was out there.

  Chris didn’t hesitate.

  “No.”

  “Chris.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Uh, she died, Greyson. Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that enough reason for me not to want to discuss it? It wasn’t that long ago. I’m not even a month…”

  He stopped him.

  “Are we friends?” he asked.

  “You know we are. You’re my best friend, next to Emma. You’re my brother.”

  “Talk to me. Trust me to help you through this. If I lost Emma, wouldn’t you do that?”

  “You would have eaten your gun. Who are you kidding?” he stated. “I would be dropping your ass in a grave beside her. We all know that.”

  Okay, he had a point.

  “Chris.”

  He went to the nightstand and pulled out a little journal. He carried it to Greyson and handed it to him.

  “Read the final entry.”

  He flipped to the back of the little book and thumbed through the pages until he found one with print.

  “It’s Natasha’s handwriting.”

  Chris nodded and sat beside him.

  “Just read it.”

  He did.

  ‘Tomorrow, we’re leaving for the mountains. I’ve decided that while we are there, I’m going to break up with Chris. While he’s a great man, I don’t want to be tied down. I don’t think he’s the one. The sex…it’s amazing, and we’ll always have that, but there’s something off between us. There’s something there that isn’t working. Maybe it’s my need to be free, or maybe it’s my need to be free of him. I don’t know. All I know is I’m going to give him one last night, and then tell him in the morning. I’m not coming back here. I transferred money, I’ve packed my bags, and I’ve decided to move on.

 

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