by Bethany-Kris
“You’re the one who felt the need to remind me of how much money you spent on my clothes,” Jordyn replied, heat rising in her cheeks and voice. She brought up his first, but Jordyn didn’t feel like it was the same thing. Maybe it was, she didn’t know. “Do you think I need that reminder?”
Lucian’s jaw clenched. “Is that what this is about right now? Because if it is, I don’t have time for it.”
“No, of course you don’t,” Jordyn muttered, laughing bitterly. “Heaven forbid something important to me that I’ve tried talking to you about over and over again be overlooked because your schedule can’t fit it in.”
“We’re fighting about the clothes?”
“No, Lucian! Where have you been for the last ten minutes? We’re talking about my life.”
“Jordyn—”
Lucian was interrupted by a vibrating coming from his left pocket. Another call. Jordyn wasn’t surprised. The defeat in his eyes as he sighed harshly and shoved a fisted hand into his pocket to silence the call said a great deal.
“I really can’t do this right now,” Lucian said, almost pleadingly.
“Just go. I need five minutes to breathe and think alone.”
“I need you to listen to me first, Jordyn. If I wanted a whore, I’d have one. If all I needed was a good fuck, I’d have it. She wouldn’t be sleeping in my bed, meeting my family, attending my church, or mixing in with my business. Frankly, she probably wouldn’t even know my name. Do you know what she’d be? Some back alley screw, quick and fast. Maybe I would pick her up in a club and forget about her before I even left. Or maybe, if she was lucky, she’d make it to the backseat of my car.
“You asked me to give you something,” Lucian continued, not taking his frustrated gaze off hers for a moment. “You needed to be safe, and I’ve done that. That meant to me I needed to make sure you didn’t have to go back to that life at all. You wouldn’t have to walk into that apartment again and see your blood in the bathtub, or your vomit on the floor. You wouldn’t have to be hurt by those things. So if that meant replacing what I took you from, that’s exactly what it meant. I’m sorry if my wealth offends you, but it doesn’t bother me a bit. And I will spend it on whatever I want, whether you like it or not. If I want to spend it all on you, I will do just that.”
“It isn’t about the money,” Jordyn tried to say.
“Oh, I figured that out. Don’t worry.”
“No, you don’t understand at all, Lucian.”
A hurt expression marred his handsome features, drawing his mouth that kissed and loved her body so well into a frown. It pained Jordyn to know she was the cause, but he still wasn’t listening.
“Take your time, sweetheart. Figure out what you need. Isn’t that what I told you from the start?”
It was. That’s what was the most difficult.
“I can’t be someone different for you, Lucian. I can’t just leave me behind. Playing dress up and having sleepovers doesn’t make a new woman. I need you to hear me right now.”
Again, the phone in his pocket vibrated.
“I have to go,” Lucian said quietly. “When I get back, if you need something different, we can work that out, too.”
Could they really?
Jordyn said nothing as he stepped into the waiting elevator and the doors closed behind him. She didn’t think it over very well when she grabbed enough money from his desk for a taxi and left ten minutes later, either.
• • •
Lucian’s distraction was not going unnoticed.
Once a month, Lucian had to act like nothing more than the capo he was for a few hours and say to hell with the rest of the world, but he wasn’t able to do that today. Tribute was usually his favorite time in any given month. All nineteen of the Marcello family capos gathered to make their payments to his father at a club they always used for this purpose.
Usually business was talked, issues noted, drinks were had, and so forth. It was, essentially, the mafia at its oldest form. For decades upon decades, this one event and the tradition it held in the Cosa Nostra never changed. Giving proper due to the boss.
Lucian was somewhere else entirely.
“Where in the fuck is Gio?” Antony asked from the other end of the booth.
Lucian shrugged, not caring. “Busy, maybe.”
“He doesn’t get to be busy today, Lucian.”
Dante shot his brother a pointed look mixed with concern. Maybe it was his blatant disregard for the men around him, or the conversations some tried to strike with him, but Lucian couldn’t do it.
“Have you made anymore decisions towards The Sons of Hell?” someone asked.
That perked Lucian up, briefly.
Antony said nothing right away, letting the question hang while everyone waited. “Their captains aren’t working with my capos, or paying for their place, at the very least. I’ve been told by a few people it’s a hostile environment trying to deal with them. Police and media attention is finally starting to wane from their direction after the mess with my casino.”
“That’s what you’ve been waiting for,” Lucian said, feeling ridiculous that he hadn’t realized it before.
His father repeatedly brushed off Lucian’s attempts to discuss what needed to be done about Will Vetta and his men. Mostly, he just wanted his retribution for what they had done to Jordyn. Plus, with Will gone, or at the very least, disabled to the point he didn’t have enough power to come back on Jordyn again, she would be safe.
Lucian scowled and tipped up his drink for a long, burning swig at the thought of her name alone. Clearly he still wasn’t over their earlier fight.
“Yes,” Antony confirmed. “I couldn’t very well send in any of my guys to make a point while attention was still hot and heavy on them.”
“Not anyone,” Lucian said, glancing over at his father. “It needs to be me.”
“It wouldn’t have looked good. Attention might have turned to us. That’s an issue we don’t need.”
“And now?” Lucian asked.
“Where is Gio?” Antony asked again, deflecting the question. “Mio Dio, Lucian. I swear I will shove my foot so far up his ass he’ll taste my boots for the next month if he shuns me today. I am not in the mood to deal with him acting like a fucking cafone.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Lucian snapped. “I’m not his babysitter.”
“But he is your younger brother.”
Lucian glared at his father. “And so is Dante, but no one needs to keep tabs on him.”
Frankly, Lucian had been far too busy with life, his work, and Jordyn to be running after Gio. At some point, it had to be a sink or swim situation. Gio would clean his act up and do what needed to be done, or he wouldn’t and he’d drown.
“That’s my job,” Antony replied. “Dante’s my underboss. I expect you to keep an eye out for Gio, just like you always have. Vaffanculo and go find out where your brother is.”
Lucian was aware all of the eyes in the room had turned to him. There was a line between respect and disrespect when it came to Antony being the boss and his father. He’d missed it completely and jumped right over it with a bang and a mighty fuck you.
“Sorry, Boss,” Lucian said quietly. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Do that. And quickly before what little patience I have for you runs out as well.”
Lucian climbed out of the booth and weaved around the men until he was at the back end of the club where there was privacy. Pulling out his phone from his pocket, Lucian quickly realized he hadn’t turned the ringer or vibrating back on the cell when he silenced it earlier. Just his home screen alone told him he’d missed several calls and texts from Gio, some that very morning when Lucian was arguing with Jordyn.
He cussed low, dialing Gio’s number. Gio picked up in two rings.
“Yeah, I know, I’m on my way. Tell him not to have a fit about it,” Gio ranted the moment he answered. “Today is not my day, man.”
Lucian sighed. “What the h
ell happened?”
“I left you a bunch of messages!”
“I haven’t checked them. I’m an idiot. I get it. You’re one more person who doesn’t need to tell me that this morning, Gio.”
The younger man went quiet before he asked, “What? Hey, did something happen I don’t know about?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. Anyway, what happened with you?”
Gio barked a laugh. “I grabbed some chicken wings last night from the place down the street. I gave Cain the leftovers this morning, and what’d he do? Choked on a bone because he eats like he’s never been fed! Inhale and swallow, he doesn’t even chew. It got stuck in his throat. Scared the shit out of me. I love that dog like nobody knows. Nearly killed someone trying to get him to the vet. I’ve been here all morning. I’m just leaving.”
Relief washed through Lucian, though he felt bad about Gio’s beloved Rottweiler. “He okay, now?”
“They’re going to keep him for a day or so, just to make sure there was no damage to his esophagus, but it seems like he’s fine. Whiney fucking mutt didn’t want me to go. Do you know what it feels like to have something you adore look at you like you’re just killing it by leaving? Can’t find a woman to keep me interested, but that dog owns me. It’s ridiculous.”
Lucian laughed at his brother’s sickeningly unconditional love for his dog. Even so, he was still pissed off. Gio might not have been able to contact Dante or Antony that morning because their phones were always turned off during this time, but he had other ways of getting a hold of Lucian.
“Why didn’t you call my condo?”
“I did,” Gio said, sounding confused. “A dozen times after I tried your cells. I thought you were being an asshole and ignoring me.”
After?
“Jordyn should have picked up,” Lucian muttered, more to himself.
“No one answered. It went to voicemail. You didn’t bring her today, did you?”
God, no.
Lucian didn’t answer his brother, though, because he was suddenly really panicked.
“You’re sure you called my condo?” Lucian asked, the words coming out strained.
“Sì, Lucian. Rang off the hook. What is wrong with you?”
“Cain’s vet is in Brooklyn, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re closer than me. I need you to go to Jordyn’s old apartment and see if she’s there.”
Gio huffed quietly. “Dad’s gonna kick my ass.”
“No, he’ll kick mine,” Lucian replied. “I’ll handle it.”
“Was she supposed to go there?” Gio asked. “That’s fucking stupid of you to be letting her wander around the city alone.”
“No, but we had a fight about it this morning. I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She wouldn’t listen, or maybe I wasn’t hearing what she was trying to say.”
“That sounds like you.”
• • •
“What do you mean you can’t give me the spare keys to my apartment?” Jordyn asked angrily. “It’s my apartment. My things are inside. The rent is paid until next week. Give me the spare keys.”
The landlord of the building shook his balding head. “Listen, cutie. Mr. Suit might have paid for the damages to the door the first time, but he didn’t pay for the second round, okay? That’s coming out of my pocket, because even your damage deposit won’t cover it. Not even close. That’s worthy of an eviction, got it? Feel lucky I’m not going after you for the costs.”
“Mr. Suit?”
“Tall, Italian, hazel eyes, dressed up like he could pull out the cash from his pocket to buy this shithole if he wanted. Mr. Suit.”
Lucian paid for the damages to replace her door and didn’t tell her? Why?
Jordyn brushed off the questions. “What do you mean, the second round?”
Sighing, the landlord eyed her curiously. “Where have you been, huh? Neighbors say they haven’t seen you in a good month.”
“Away,” Jordyn answered vaguely.
“Left right after the first break-in, didn’t you?”
Break in. Right, that was a good term for her attack. Not.
“Around that time, yeah. Just took some time to breathe. Listen, are you going to give me the fucking keys, or what?”
“The eviction is already served. It’s non-negotiable after the whole damage thing. It’s posted on the second new door I’ve had to put on your apartment this month.”
Jordyn tried to keep her cool, she really did. “So let me guess, after Lucian paid for you to fix the first broken door, you slummed around before getting it done. Someone broke in while the screwed up door was still on, and messed up my apartment again. Is that what happened?”
“The door was fixed two days after the first break-in,” he replied tiredly. “Last week, a bunch of denim and leather wearing scum came into the building and knocked the door down again before tearing up the place. Maybe they were looking for something, cutie. You have any idea what that might have been?”
Jordyn’s heart stopped as bile rose to her mouth. “They came back here?”
“I don’t know who they are, but someone sure did.”
“And you didn’t think to call the police?”
“Why, so I can lose a half a dozen tenants over the cops coming here for something they can’t fix?”
“I’m sorry,” Jordyn rushed to say. “I’ll pay for whatever they did. I just really need to get inside my apartment. My whole life is in there … Listen, my mother died when I was younger. All I have of her is in that apartment. I need to get it.”
The man gave her a sympathetic look, but shrugged. “I don’t think you understand. They ruined it all. I’ll let you in, and you have ten minutes before I want you out of this building for good, but I don’t think you’re going to get what you came looking for.”
Jordyn thanked the man before he closed his door. She waited while he got the new keys, and then followed him up to the second floor and down to where her apartment was. Sure enough, a brand new door and frame was installed, right along with the regulation eviction that she ripped as soon as she saw it.
The moment her landlord unlocked the apartment, Jordyn understood exactly what he meant. She barely managed to hold the sudden swirling sickness in her stomach at bay. It wasn’t just a mess, it was a goddamned disaster.
The couch had been flung over, along with a broken coffee table. The two matching chairs for the tiny kitchenette set had been used to punch massive holes in the wall. Glass shards were sprinkled everywhere. The few books she managed to collect over the years were also strewn with pages ripped out and scattered. The fridge had been emptied of its contents, food rotting and leaving an awful smell lingering in the stale air. Any pictures and fake art on the walls were torn down and ruined.
Jordyn’s apartment had never been much. The building was a dive, the tenants could be scary, and she didn’t live in the best neighborhood, but it was still hers. She’d loved it, lived in it since she was eighteen, and it was the one thing she felt The Sons of Hell couldn’t take from her.
But, oh, they had.
Tears welled in her eyes immediately, threatening to spill over.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to her landlord. “Really.”
“You were here the first time around, yeah?” he asked.
Jordyn didn’t want to, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah.”
“Figured, what with the blood and vomit. They got you pretty bad. I don’t know why you came back, cutie, but seeing what they did the first time, it was why I didn’t try to go after you for damages after this one. You shouldn’t be here if this is what they’ll do when you’re not around and they come looking. Don’t you get that?”
Again, Jordyn nodded bleakly. “Just give me a second to grab my box and I’ll go. I have some money, too, if it’s even here …”
It was only maybe four grand of cash Jordyn had saved, just in case she ever needed it. Clearly she owed a lot for what happened here. It probably
wouldn’t cover all of the damages, but it might help.
The landlord stepped back into the hallway as Jordyn moved further into the mess. She weaved through the hazards, going straight to her bedroom. It was there that she hurt the most.
The sheets on her bed were ripped off, exposing a mattress with a cut straight down the middle, opening its insides to let the material spill out. An overwhelming stench of urine soaked the room, coming from the bed. In the very middle of the mattress, the belt Will had used to beat her half to death rested like it’d been laid out for her to remember, dried blood staining the studs.
Her blood.
Jordyn tried for all she was worth to ignore the smell and the sight, tripping over strewn blankets as she reached to open the small closet. The tiniest bit of relief welled at the sight of her memory box on the top shelf where she left it. It didn’t have much inside but her cash, some old photos of her mother, stubs for movies, tickets for the fair, and a necklace, but it was everything to Jordyn.
Absolutely everything.
Turning to leave with the box clutched tightly to her chest, something caught Jordyn’s eye on the wall. A knife had been used to hold a piece of paper to the wall. In thick, black letters, a warning was written.
You took something that belongs to us. We want it back.
Jordyn choked on her terror.
Faster than before, she needed to leave. Jordyn had made a huge mistake, and she knew it.
“Who in the hell are you?” she heard her landlord ask.
“A friend. Move.”
The familiar voice had Jordyn stumbling from the bedroom, her eyes catching Gio’s in the doorway.
“I fucked up,” Jordyn whispered. “I really, really messed up, Gio.”
“Yeah, well, it’s good there’s someone else in the family besides me screwing up every once in a while.” The youngest Marcello shook his head, starting a trek across the small apartment to meet Jordyn’s shaking form. “It’s okay. Come on, we need to go. Lucian called, he won’t be long.”
Dumbly, she waved towards the bedroom. “No, it’s bad. It’s on the wall. I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”
