Hart of Vengeance: The Hart Series

by Alexander, S. B.

  “And Duke didn’t pick you.”

  I couldn’t argue with Duke’s choice not to do business with Tito. It wasn’t that he was a lowlife as Duke had said, but Tito drew too much attention, particularly if he didn’t get his way. I didn’t know much about Duke’s business dealings, but I knew my brother. He was big on trust and little on attention.

  Tito tucked the gun in the waist of his jeans. “I have more connections than most of the gangs. Fuck, I could get rid of one shipment in the blink of an eye.”

  “Are you bragging or serious, man? Because, look, Duke has little patience for someone who talks the talk. He wants someone who gets shit done.”

  He scratched his head of dark hair. “You know I get shit done. The Creepers have made more money than ever since I’ve been at the helm.”

  “Give me something to work with, and I’ll take that to Duke.”

  He glanced at the floor then up at me. “Throw him a bone?”

  “A big fucking bone, man. Otherwise, he won’t bite.”

  He bobbed his head, his mind wandering. “I can do that.”

  “Then cut me loose, and I’ll get you that spot at the table.” The last sentence came out a little too fast. Whether I could or not, I only needed him to believe me.

  He laughed. “Your brother doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

  “Duke was blowing smoke up your ass. He cares.” Not one part of anything I’d just said was true.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Believe me or not. But if you deliver my dead body to my brother, you can hang up any chance of getting in. You’ve already got one strike against you.”

  He considered me for a long minute, if not more, chewing on his bottom lip. “Lou! Get your ass in here!”

  I closed my eyes as several cuss words fell from my lips.

  Lou rushed in, looking excited to start torturing me.

  “Cut him down,” Tito ordered.

  Lou pouted like he’d just lost his pliers. “Why? I had plans for him.”

  “You can take out the rage you have for Duke on someone else,” Tito said.

  Lou dug into his boot and pulled out a switchblade. Then he reached up and cut the rope.

  I fell like a rag doll to the ground then quickly scrambled to get the rope off my ankles.

  Lou stomped off like a little boy who hadn’t gotten his way.

  Tito leaned against a square beam. “Give me a couple of days, and we’ll be in touch.”

  I pushed to my feet on shaky legs and managed to walk up to him without falling. Before he had time to blink, I punched him in the jaw. “You better pray my girl is alive.”

  He spat on my boot. “Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”

  “One last question. If you know I didn’t kill your brother, do you know who did?”

  “Not a fucking clue. But if you ever find that person, I want to know.”

  Not likely, but he didn’t need to know that. That person was all mine, and if the Feds were right and Duke had been at Hector’s the night he was killed, Tito would never, ever know, at least not from me. I might be pissed at Duke, but I would deal with him myself.

  I gave Tito a two-finger salute as I limped my way to fresh air.

  “Hey, Hart,” Tito called.

  I didn’t bother to turn around.

  “If you don’t come through, I will kill you and everyone you love.”

  I had no doubt in my mind he was serious. But I didn’t fail at much, and if Jade wasn’t breathing, I would kill him first.

  23

  Denim

  The scent of salt water lingered in the night air as I headed down a deserted street, away from Boston Harbor, away from the rundown warehouse I’d been beaten to a pulp in, away from hell.

  The more I walked, the more pain seized every limb in my body. The adrenaline was vanishing, and my legs were about to give out. My head hurt like someone had bashed it a few times with a baseball bat, and a dull pain throbbed in my ribs and stomach. I swished saliva around in my mouth to get the sandpaper feeling to go away, hoping to coat the dryness in my throat too.

  I stepped off a curb and faltered as dizziness set in. I wasn’t going to make it another block. I bent over, bracing my hands on my knees and scanned the neighborhood. There had to be life somewhere nearby.

  A cat screeched, but that wasn’t what I was hoping for. I blew out a breath and straightened. I had to find a phone.

  I held my growling stomach as I crossed the street. I hadn’t eaten in days, which only added to the weakness I was feeling. I spotted a light in the field one block down. I squeezed my eyes shut then oriented my vision and looked again. Flames shot out of a trash can, and two men were hovering over it.

  Suddenly, I shivered. The sweat on my body was still there, but with a brisk wind picking up and breezing over me, I felt as though I’d just stepped out of a warm bath and into a winter storm.

  I swallowed, licking my lips as I pushed on. Maybe one of those guys had a phone. I sped up my pace as fast as my weak legs would allow. But my efforts were about to fail when I reached the chain-link fence surrounding the field. Winded, I bent over once again to catch my breath.

  Come on, Denim. Kick your ass into gear. Think of Jade. You need to see her.

  I didn’t even know if she was alive. Fuck. I latched on to the fence. Then I lowered myself to the ground. I needed a minute to clear the dizziness. Otherwise, I would fall flat on my face. I closed my eyes, willing my muscles to cooperate and my head to clear.

  Then two men’s voices carried with the wind, floating past me as my head spun like I’d drunk a fifth of bourbon. My ears perked up, and my eyes flew open at the rumble of an engine.

  Slowly, I swiveled my head toward the car inching toward me. No doubt the occupant was looking for someone or something. Maybe he’d lost his cat.

  Then I stiffened. Maybe Tito was looking for me. Maybe he’d changed his mind about letting me go. I wasn’t sure I gave a fuck, though, with the way I was feeling.

  The headlights grew brighter, blinding me until the car pulled up to the curb. Before I could comprehend who the driver was, the man was squatting down in front of me.

  “What the fuck?” Dillon’s voice made my heart sputter.

  I was a tough motherfucker, but in that moment, tough wasn’t in my vocabulary. I wanted to throw my arms around my brother and not let go.

  Dillon helped me to my feet. “You look like shit.”

  “Feel like it too, bro.” My voice was rough.

  He helped me into the passenger seat before he ran around the hood of the car and hopped in.

  “How did you find me?” Not that it mattered. I was grateful I wasn’t hanging like a slab of meat drying out in some cold warehouse.

  He threw his car into gear and sped down the road. “Tito called Duke and told him where to find you.”

  It made sense. Tito wanted Duke to know he hadn’t killed me to make sure he still had a chance of getting into Duke’s organization.

  I slumped in my seat, popping my head back, ready to pass out for eternity. But I couldn’t. “Jade. Please tell me she’s alive.”

  He reached over and touched my arm. “She is, bro. The bullet hit the right side of her chest, above her breast. The doctor said she was lucky. She’ll be in the hospital for a few more days. I got her well protected. No one is getting past Rafe.”

  I let out a groan that blasted my ears. “Thank fuck.” I closed my eyes as warmth started to spread throughout my body. “How long has it been since the shooting?” I’d lost track of time and hadn’t bothered to ask Tito.

  “Five days. We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Duke had his goons out. I had Rafe combing the streets and checking in with his contacts when he wasn’t guarding Jade’s hospital room. Hell, I even had my bud Hunter, who works for a security firm, looking for you. Not to mention, the Feds have been worried.”

  I let out a strangled laugh, opening my eyes. “They
probably think I bailed on my parole.”

  Dillon merged into traffic, heading into the Back Bay near Beacon Hill. “They questioned Jade, but she had nothing to tell them. Anyway, I called Kelton a few minutes ago while I was scouring the area. His place is close by, and he wants to chat. However, I think I should take you to the emergency room.”

  I flipped down the visor and checked myself out in the small mirror. Christ, I did look like I’d been in a war. My eyes were black and blue. A cut was bleeding on my brow, and my lips were dry, cracked, and split in one area.

  “I’m fine. I just need a hot shower and some food before I see Jade. I’m starving.”

  I didn’t want her seeing me in the state I was in. I might scare her, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. She’d been through enough.

  “You can shower at Kelton’s.”

  After several lights and turns, Dillon was parallel parking on Louisburg Square, where million-dollar townhomes were the norm. “I have Rafe guarding her. And believe it or not, the Feds have someone watching her too.”

  Travers had probably employed the same person who’d been watching her when she was at the hospital for her sister. I made a mental note to thank him at some point.

  I got out of the car, albeit slowly. “Beacon Hill. Wow.”

  Dillon met me on the sidewalk. “Well, Kelton is a lawyer. It’s this way.” He pointed behind where he’d parked.

  Dillon and I walked side by side, not saying a word. When we reached number twelve, I climbed the stairs behind Dillon. He was primed to knock when the green door opened.

  Kelton grinned at Dillon until his blue eyes landed on me, and he lost his smile. “What the?” He waved us in before pushing his fingers through his black hair. “I’ll have Lizzie get a first aid kit.”

  “Let’s hurry this show up. I want to see Jade.”

  Kelton closed the door. “You’re not seeing Jade tonight. Visiting hours end in a couple of hours, and you need a good night’s rest.”

  I wanted to say we would see about that, but my stomach grumbled at the aroma of something delicious wafting in the air.

  Dillon chuckled.

  “Lizzie is making lasagna,” Kelton said. “Follow me.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. Eat, shower, then see Jade—in that order. I didn’t need sleep, and if I had to, I would sneak into the hospital.

  “Nice place.” I whistled as I followed Dillon and Kelton, taking in the rich design of the elegant curved staircase, a massive crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling, a formal dining room big enough to entertain at least twenty guests, and a library that would rival the public one in the city.

  I squinted at the bright recessed lights overhead when I entered a spacious kitchen drenched in dark cherrywood, stainless-steel appliances, and white marble countertops.

  A woman with black hair and big gray eyes set the pepper shaker down on the counter and came over to me. “I’m Lizzie.” Her expression held concern. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

  “If you don’t mind, can I use the shower first?” I needed to get the blood, mud, and stench off me.

  “I’ll show him the shower,” Kelton said to his girl. “Afterward, we can tend to his cuts. It doesn’t look like you need any stitches.”

  I would bet some of the wounds were healing already.

  “Come on.” Kelton started to backtrack the way we’d come in. “I have some clothes that might fit you.”

  Following him, I took in a deep breath, and my body odor could knock out a bear.

  After I’d taken a hot shower and donned the clean clothes Kelton had lent me, I was again walking into the kitchen.

  Lizzie, Dillon, and Kelton stopped talking.

  Lizzie popped up from a barstool, grabbed a mug, and poured coffee into it. “Here. This will help.”

  Any liquid would help. In the shower, I’d drunk as much water as I could. I took the mug. “Thank you.”

  Kelton waved a hand, gesturing to a stool next to Dillon. I noticed he’d changed out of his suit and into a Boston College T-shirt and jeans, similar to the clothes he had let me borrow.

  Lizzie removed a pan of lasagna from the oven. “I hope everyone is hungry.”

  I didn’t care if she fed me dirt. I would eat anything at the moment.

  Kelton wrapped his hand around a bottle of beer. “First, I’m glad you’re okay. I hear Tito Alvarez flies off the handle. Why did he let you go?”

  I gave Dillon a sidelong glance. “I told him I could get him into Duke’s organization.”

  Dillon choked on his drink. “You what?”

  “It was either that or die. Sorry, bro. I’m not ready to die.”

  Lizzie was doing something at the stove that I couldn’t see.

  Kelton sat up straighter, his expression blank. “How do you plan on doing that?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure.” I hadn’t even thought past getting food in my stomach or seeing Jade. “But if I don’t, he won’t hesitate to kill me and those I love.”

  Dillon shook his head.

  Lizzie set the hot pan of lasagna on a trivet in front of us. Then she kissed Kelton on the cheek. “I’ll be upstairs. I’ll let you guys talk.”

  He wrapped a hand around her waist and kissed her on the lips. “Thanks, Lizard.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her pet name. It was cute and unique, sparking an idea of what I could use for Jade since she didn’t like me calling her love.

  Lizzie bounced out of the room while I dove into the lasagna, not displaying any manners. I piled a heaping serving onto my plate and took one bite, savoring the cheesy gooiness. My stomach rumbled with pleasure. I took another bite, sighing. I had to eat slowly. Otherwise, I ran the risk of getting sick.

  Kelton and Dillon began to fill their plates.

  “Agent Travers tells me Duke is hooked up in the gun trade,” Kelton said.

  “You talked to him?” I asked, chewing the out-of-this-world lasagna that had a perfect combination of spices, cheeses, and meat.

  “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see you,” Kelton said. “I ran into him when I was visiting Jade earlier at the hospital. He was there asking her questions. Anyway, I made it clear that he needs to stop making idle threats. Your parole is well aboveboard, and the only way you can go back to jail is to violate your parole in some fashion. You are not obligated to help him take down Duke. However, if you want to clear your record, you might want to consider working with the Feds. The offer he gave me is good. There’s no hidden agenda or threats whatsoever.”

  “It’s up to me, then?” I asked for no other reason than to roll that idea around in my head. “I guess my question is, what specifically does Travers want me to get from Duke?”

  Kelton wiped his mouth with a napkin. “According to the letter, the Feds want a time and place of the next gun shipment coming in. Get that info, and they’ll seal the deal with you.”

  I let out a crazed laugh. “Duke isn’t going to give that to me.”

  “That’s a fact,” Dillon said in between bites. “Duke knows the Feds are watching anyway. It’s impossible for Denim to come through.”

  Exactly. The only way my name was getting cleared was to find out who killed Hector, which was an impossible feat in my mind if I couldn’t find the neighbor. But my conundrum at the moment was that I had Tito breathing down my neck. I was in a catch-22. And I cared more about keeping Jade alive than clearing my name.

  24

  Jade

  Six days had passed since I’d gotten shot. Seven since Savannah died. I was ready to get out of my hospital bed and breathe in some fresh air or do something. Sitting idle was driving me nuts. I had to do something to keep my mind busy and not think about whether Denim was dead or alive.

  Tears pooled in my eyes as I stared at the bathroom door in my private room, which Dillon had insisted on. He’d even had one of his security guards who worked at the shelter guard my door. I felt like I was back in Savannah’s room in th
e ICU.

  Regardless, I appreciated his concern. “We need to be careful. I can’t let anything happen to you. Denim would never forgive me.”

  “Do we know if he’s alive?” I’d asked several times. Actually, every time Dillon, Rafe, or Mallory came in, that was my first question. I’d even asked Kelton when he’d come to visit, knowing full well he didn’t have any answers.

  I’d also bombarded Agent Travers when he’d peppered me with questions. His response had been, “We have our men out looking for him.” Then he’d said, “I hope he didn’t violate his parole.”

  I’d almost punched him for his last sentence. The jerk was worried about him violating parole. He’d given me the impression that he was hoping Denim actually had so the FBI could send him back to prison.

  Regardless, the more time that ticked away, the less of a chance there was that we would find Denim alive, at least that was the usual police rule with missing persons.

  Thankfully, the pain meds kept me groggy and sleeping most of the time. When I’d been awake, Mallory and I had talked about a burial service for Savannah. I’d tried to call my aunt, but I’d gotten her voice mail, and I hadn’t wanted to leave bad news on a recording.

  I flicked on the TV. The room was too quiet. Mallory was working, Dillon had an errand to run, and Rafe was standing outside my door. He didn’t come in much. Every now and then, he would poke his head in, and I would laugh. It wasn’t like I was about to disappear. Sure, I could jump out of the window, but I was five stories up, and I wasn’t a daredevil. Nor did I have anything to run from, at least not yet.

  When Rafe wasn’t on duty and Mallory wasn’t talking my ear off about work, Dillon sat with me and sometimes stayed the night. I enjoyed reconnecting with Dillon. He’d filled me in on his life. I was horrified to hear about his sister ending up in a sex-trafficking ring. He’d explained the harrowing experience of searching every part of the city for Grace for four years. I couldn’t imagine how hard that must’ve been, always wondering if he would find her dead or alive. I’d cried when he’d gotten to the end of the story where he’d found her.