by CJ Bishop
“I-I have to go,” she whispered shakily and moved hurriedly toward the door.
The man blocked her path, halting her in her tracks. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But the only place you’re going…is with me.”
Caterina’s pulse spiked, laboring her breath, as the gun appeared in an instant—aimed at her head.
•
“Quint made a pact with the Albanian’s,” Carter said, “to join forces and become the strongest crime family in the city.”
Cruz frowned, his tone clipped. “Was this before the Albanians struck my family?”
“After. When you guys brought them down and wiped out most of them, they knew they weren’t strong enough on their own, even if they managed to rebuild their forces.” Carter looked at them uneasily. “Quinton conspired with the Albanian’s boss to take over the Sanitini family and merge it with their mob, then together…” he glanced at Cruz. “…completely wipe out the Santiago family.”
Clint stood stone still, his breath heavy in his nostrils. “Killing Nathan wasn’t just about gaining control of Gabriel, was it? Quint needed him dead so he could join this family with the Albanian mob. That’s what you’re telling us?”
Carter nodded.
“And how did he plan to get the rest of us to go along with him?” He looked at Cruz then back to Carter. “The Santiago family are our friends and allies.”
Shaking his head, Carter murmured, “I don’t know. He had this idea that because he was the boss now, everyone would follow him out of loyalty to Nathan, that he would be respected and revered because he was Nathan’s son.” He shifted in the chair. “And those who wouldn’t…they would kill.”
The Egyptian had been dead silent until this moment. He huffed. “He thought he could take us out and walk away still breathing?”
“I don’t know how he planned to do it.”
“So, what happened?” Clint asked. “Why didn’t the plan go forward?”
Carter replied, “His obsession for Gabriel consumed him. Then you guys found out he was the one behind his father’s death—and the one who ratted him out to the cops, getting him arrested. Once you dealt with him, there was no more plan.”
“But the Albanians continued to recruit new members,” Clint muttered.
“Yes.”
“And they think they’re growing strong enough to come against both our families? They really have that many guys?”
Carter shrugged. “I don’t know. They have a lot. And their boss learned from his past mistake and isn’t going to just rush in helter skelter. He’s making a new plan.”
The one thing neither family had ever known was the identity of the Albanian boss. Cruz asked, “Who is the boss? What’s his name?”
“I-I don’t know,” Carter answered. “Only a few at the top know who he is.”
“You knew all the other facts but you don’t know that?” Clint shook his head slowly. “I don’t know if I believe you.” He looked at Cochise. “You ask him. See if he gives you a different answer.”
The Egyptian walked over and squatted down. Carter sucked back against the chair, terror in his eyes as Cochise tapped Carter’s lower lip with the tip of the knife blade. “Where I come from,” he murmured. “A man lies…we cut out his tongue. So, open your mouth.”
“Huh?!” Carter gasped.
“Do it.” Cochise slid the blade tip between his lips and nudged his teeth. “All the way.”
“I’m not lying!” The knife slid in across his tongue the instant his mouth opened a fraction. Carter’s breath pumped erratically, his tongue working beneath the flat side of the blade. “No…” his plea muffled and distorted.
“Who is he?” The Egyptian gradually twisted the knife until the sharp side rested on Carter’s tongue, the razor edge lightly slitting the soft appendage. Blood trickled down the groove formed by the slight pressure of the blade and dribbled out over Carter’s lower lip and down his chin.
“You got something more to tell us?” Clint asked.
Carter stared at him, eyes bulging—and nodded.
Cochise withdrew the knife and Carter gasped hard, bloody spittle draining from his mouth.
“Speak,” Clint ordered.
Carter swallowed, a sick look on his face. “Terrell,” he murmured unsteadily. “Terrell Pisano.”
Cruz didn’t recognize the name, but Clint and Cochise clearly did.
“Pisano?” Clint repeated stiffly.
Carter trembled. “Ray’s older brother.”
Staring at him hard, Clint asked, “Is he running the Albanian mob alone?”
“He has a son,” Carter said. “But they don’t see eye to eye.”
“The son’s name?”
“Flynn.”
Cruz’s heart crashed to a halt. Flynn. He looked at Sanchez, breath quickening.
“What’s wrong?” Sanchez asked.
“Flynn,” Cruz whispered.
Clint frowned. “What is it?”
“Flynn is name of the man Caterina’s been seeing the last couple nights. Fuck.”
“You think it’s Flynn Pisano?”
Cruz nodded. “We found her ex beaten and shot. We had cause to suspect her new guy. And now…” he exhaled hard. “I’m positive.” He pulled out his phone. “I have to call papá. She can’t leave the house.”
The Egyptian stood up and walked around behind the man. “We done here?”
Clint looked at Carter, and nodded. “I’m a man of my word,” the cowboy said. “Nice and quick.”
“Huh-”
The Egyptian grabbed a fist of his hair and craned his head back. “This is for Nathan, motherfucker.” He touched the blade to his neck and, very slowly, dragged it around, slitting open his throat. His eyes bulged thicker as he began to gag on his own blood.
“See? Quick,” Clint murmured. “Though not so nice.”
Cochise left his head draped over the back of the chair, walked away and returned a moment later with a can of gasoline. He drenched Carter who now sat lifeless, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “Burn in hell, motherfucker,” the Egyptian muttered and lit him up.
Cruz left the guest room with Sanchez and walked outside, the call to his father already sent.
Five minutes later, he ended the call, his heart racing and panic rising. “Caterina’s gone,” he told Sanchez as Clint and Cochise joined them. “Papá said she left the house without telling him. He doesn’t know where she is…and she isn’t answering her phone.”
CHAPTER 22
“A Matter of Fact”
______________________________________________
“What the fuck are you doing?” Flynn came forward quick when a cold glare and a single shake of Riccardo’s head halted him in his tracks. “Riccardo…what’s going on?” Flynn looked anxiously at Caterina. The woman stood deathly still, hands slightly raised, her breath rushing erratically up her throat. What the fuck was this asshole doing?
“We’ve been looking for that little bit of leverage to give us the advantage,” Riccardo said. He smiled at Caterina. “And you, darling, are it.”
Caterina swallowed thickly, her throat working with fear. “I-I don’t understand?” she whispered. “Who are you?”
“Me?” Riccardo smiled. “No one of consequence. Not to you, anyway. But your boyfriend here…that’s another story.”
“Let her go,” Flynn said tightly, his fear for Caterina escalating.
“Can’t do that,” Riccardo said. “Your daddy is very interested in meeting your new lady.”
“Why?” Flynn asked. “She’s…no one. Just some woman I picked up at the bar.” He felt the sting of his words hit Caterina. Her back was to him, but her body suddenly knotted up tighter. “We fucked a couple times and now I’m through with her.” The words were bitter on his tongue—even though they should have been the truth. If he hadn’t taken it beyond the first night, she’d be safe now. What the fuck did his father want with her, anyway?
Did
you really think your daddy wasn’t keeping a close eye on you? Or that we wouldn’t know who your new little whore was?
His gut balling into a hard knot, Flynn stared at Riccardo; they knew she was with the Santiago family. Fuck—fuck! What did his dad mean to do with her?
We’ve been looking for a little bit of leverage…
They were going to use her to shift the odds in their favor. As long as they had her—the Santiagos and Sanitinis would be at a disadvantage. Their concern would be for Caterina and his father could lead them into a trap.
Like you meant to do? Use her to get close enough to kill Cruz? Maybe you are your father’s son. The rotten apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it?
Ricardo chuckled. “Nice to know where you stand, huh, honey? Just a sweet piece of ass to use and discard.” He shrugged and sighed. “But what can you expect from the son of a crime lord?”
“What…?” Caterina trembled. “Flynn…? I don’t…”
“There’ll be time for chit-chat later,” Riccardo said, “when we get home and you meet your boyfriend’s daddy. I’ll let him fill in the blanks.” He stepped back and motioned her toward the doorway. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” He nodded at Flynn. “You, too, Romeo. Daddy wants your ass home and he won’t take no for an answer this time.”
When Caterina hesitated, Flynn moved up close and touched her arm. “Just do what he says,” he murmured anxiously. “It’s gonna be okay.” He felt the sting as she flinched from his touch and moved away from him.
“Ouch,” Riccardo smirked and shook his head. “Guess fun fuck time is over, huh?”
Flynn stared at him coldly. “This isn’t going to happen,” he said low, tight. “Whatever my father has planned—it isn’t happening.”
Riccardo smiled dryly. “It’s happening as we speak.” His smile drained off his face and he motioned with the gun. “Move.”
•
“Papá!” Cruz burst through the front door, Sanchez on his heels. His father met him in the entry hall. “How long has she been gone?”
“An hour since I checked her room,” Lorenzo said. Deep concern filled his eyes. “Is mija in danger?”
Cruz nodded. “Her new guy is Flynn Pisano—whose father is heading up the Albanian mob.”
“You’ve identified him?” Shock masked his father’s face.
“Terrell Pisano,” Cruz said. “Brother of Ray Pisano—the man who attempted to kill Clint’s brother Gabriel a few months back.”
Lorenzo looked worried. “Do you think this Flynn knew who Caterina was from the start?”
“I think we should assume he did,” he said. “Which means the whole pick-up thing was just a ploy.”
“We have to find her.” Anxiety strained Sanchez’s face. “And fast.”
“I can’t get through to her on the phone,” Lorenzo said. “I’ve been calling every few minutes. It goes to voicemail each time.”
Cruz exhaled hard. “Dammit. I told her not to be shutting off her phone.”
“She knew we didn’t want her leaving the house,” Sanchez murmured. “If she went to see him, she wouldn’t want us calling and trying to talk her out of it.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “Mija is too strong-willed for her own good.”
“How the hell do we find her?” Sanchez asked. “We don’t know where this guy lives.”
Cruz struggled to keep his fear in check, but it was a battle. He’d seen the look in Caterina’s eyes when she’d come home today. She thinks she’s falling in love. The power of love could be as detrimental as it could be beneficial. She didn’t want to believe Flynn was involved with Armand’s death, and she had surely gone to him to convince herself he was innocent. What would he do if she confronted him about Armand’s murder? Would his façade crumble? What would it take for him to harm her? Was his end game to kidnap her and take her to his father?
“Let’s get the men clued in,” Cruz said. “About everything. They need to know what may be coming, on a larger scale.”
Sanchez nodded.
Cruz grasped his father’s shoulder. “We’ll find Caterina,” he assured him. “And bring her safely home. Try not to worry, papá.”
“She is mi hija,” Lorenzo whispered. “I will worry until she is home again.”
“I know,” Cruz said quietly. “So will I.”
•
Caterina sat numbly in the passenger seat, the seatbelt strapping her in. Her captor had insisted Flynn follow them in his own car. Caterina didn’t know how to feel about Flynn right now, but she did know that it made her extremely uncomfortable and afraid to be alone with this man.
He guided the car with one hand, the other resting on his thigh, lightly gripping the handgun.
“You seem upset about Flynn,” he spoke up. “Don’t tell me you were actually falling for him.”
Caterina didn’t answer. She stared out the passenger window, feeling the burn in her eyes. She blinked, not wishing to give this asshole the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
“Trust me, you’re better off without him. He’s a piece of shit.”
And you’re not? She thought bitterly. It was her heart’s reflex to defend Flynn, but how could she? He had lied to her from the start. Hadn’t he?
“By the way, my name is Riccardo.” The man cast her a sidelong smile. “And you’re Caterina. Lovely name for a lovely woman.” He reached over and slowly rubbed the barrel of the gun along her thigh. She flinched and tensed. “I was watching the two of you.” A strong sexual rasp thickened his voice. “Last night, while you were fucking on Flynn’s bed.”
Caterina’s skin crawled; was he telling the truth? It sickened her to think he was.
He shifted in his seat. “You have a fucking sexy body.” He dragged the gun up and around the swell of her breast. “Delicious tits. Flynn sure seemed to think they were tasty.”
Caterina forced herself not to fight him. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to see the bulge in his pants.
Riccardo slid the tip of the gun barrel under her shirt and caressed her skin with the cold metal, venturing back up to her breast, lifting her shirt as he went until her left breast was exposed. Though she wore a bra, she felt naked, knowing he could see right through the thin lace. “Fuck,” he groaned, stealing looks at her as he guided the car down the street. “You’re making me salivate, baby.”
The weapon caressed down her stomach and between her thighs. She closed her eyes, her pulse erratic.
“Mm. I saw your pussy last night,” he groaned. “All wet and slick, eating up his cock. Bet my big boy could satisfy her far better.” He shifted again as his crotch hardened. “When all this nasty business is over, how about we find out? What do you say? Just you and me…fucking each other delirious?”
“No, thank you,” she whispered sickly.
Riccardo went silent, then burst out laughing. “I like you, honey.” He sighed and cleared his throat, grinning. “You’ll get used to me. Maybe even start to like me after we fuck a couple times and you get addicted to my dick.” He rubbed the barrel up and down between her legs. “Can’t wait.”
Caterina swallowed thickly, wishing desperately to go back two nights and decide to stay home…rather than go out on the prowl and pick up Flynn.
You can really pick them, can’t you, girl? One winner after another.
•
Flynn clutched the steering wheel, staying right up on Riccardo’s ass, practically tailgating him. He didn’t trust the bastard alone with Caterina.
God damn you, old man, he cursed at his father. Who the hell do you think you are?
But Terrell Pisano knew who he was—he knew exactly who he was; and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He knew it, and Flynn knew it. If he cooperated with his father, would he be able to protect Caterina?
Why not cooperate anyway? His plan just might work and you’ll get to kill Cruz Santiago after all.
At what cost?
No greater cost than if he’d
executed the plan himself, as he’d intended. Caterina was already lost to him regardless how things played out from here. If his father’s plan was successful, would he turn Caterina loose after he got the men he was after? Flynn couldn’t imagine his father leaving a loose end. He was a paranoid, narcissistic personality—he wasn’t going to allow anyone he deemed an enemy to go free.
It took thirty minutes to reach his father’s compound—as Flynn thought of it. He would hardly call it a home, though appearances could be deceptive to the uneducated visitor. He followed Riccardo’s car through iron gates and around back of the stronghold. He was out of the car before Riccardo vacated his vehicle, and walked straight to the passenger door, pulling it open. Caterina unbuckled and climbed out. There were tears in her eyes and she looked shaken. What did you say to her, motherfucker? What did you do?
Flynn touched her elbow. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
She looked at him like he was a total stranger and withdrew from his touch. “I’m fine,” she whispered thickly, tightly. “I can take care of myself.”
“Caterina…”
“Inside,” Riccardo ordered as he came around the rear of the car, motioning with his weapon. “No time for whispering sweet nothings to each other.”
Caterina complied without confrontation and Flynn followed after her. She might think she could take care of herself, and perhaps in most cases she could, but not when it came to Terrell Pisano. She needed Flynn whether she knew it or not—whether she wanted him or not.
“My wandering waif of a son has returned,” Terrell drawled when the three of them entered the large living room. His father stood by the fireplace with a couple of his men. His stare hardly touched Flynn before passing over him to Caterina. “My darling, we finally meet.” He approached the woman and took her hand, kissing it as if he had any concept of what it meant to be a gentleman. “I’ve been curious about my son’s new love interest. And what an interesting choice he made.” He continued to hold her hand, his eyes like those of a snake as he studied Caterina’s face. “Caterina De Luca. Daughter of Salvatore De Luca.” He shook his head sadly. “Such a shame what happened to your father.”
