Uncontrollable Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 3)

by Infante Bosco, Janine

  “Hey,” I said, shrugging on my jacket. She lifted her head, and it was my turn to be silent. I didn’t know what the fuck to say but by the look in her eyes, she wanted me to say something.

  “Be careful getting to wherever you’re going,” she replied.

  I nodded and then I took a few steps toward her, leaned over and flicked the lights back on. We both squinted and focused until we adapted to the light. I tipped her chin up with my index finger. “I’ll call you down to the garage and find you a set of wheels,” I promised.

  “Sounds good,” she whispered.

  Women like Reina didn’t like not knowing where they stood. I’d bet my life she never had just a fuck. She was the kind of woman a man kept real close to him—never letting her out of his sight. If I was a smart man I’d do the same, but those men were the men who knew the difference between right and wrong. All I knew was wrong.

  So instead of giving her the things she wanted to hear. I gave her the best I could.

  “Liked seeing this side of you, Reina. Gonna want more of that,” I said. “Next time, lights on, maybe even in front of a mirror, that way you can see yourself through the shadows of darkness. The same way I see you.”

  “I don’t want to see what you see,” she whispered.

  “You should, it’s some fucking sight,” I said, bending a little to press my lips to hers.

  “Good night, Sunshine,” I whispered against her mouth before I pulled back and stepped around her. I opened the door and glanced over my shoulder at her. “Lock up,” I ordered, before walking out the door and closing it behind me.

  I waited for a moment, listening closely until I heard the lock slide into place.

  Yeah, I was ruined.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I dragged my ass to the compound, my helmet tucked under my arm as I strode inside. I spotted Blackie, Anthony Bianci and Riggs all sitting around a table and tipped my head toward them. I stopped off at the bar, placed my helmet on top of it and ran my fingers through my disheveled hair, a result of my helmet and Reina’s fingers.

  I glanced at the prospect behind the bar staring up at the flat screen television plastered to the wall and slapped my hand onto the wooden bar to get his attention.

  “Hey boss, what can I get you?”

  “A beer,” I said, peeling off my jacket. I could still smell Reina—her scent potent, lingering on my face and my clothes. I draped my jacket on the back of the stool, took the beer he offered and walked toward the table where the men sat, waiting for me.

  I grabbed the back of the only vacant chair at the table, flipped it around and straddled it as my eyes roamed the faces of the men staring back at me. Blackie’s expression was grim, his jaw tight as he narrowed his eyes at me. Bianci was leaning back against his chair and raised a brow in my direction. Riggs remained indifferent, his trademark blank stare locked firmly in place.

  “What the fuck you looking at?” I asked, taking a sip of my beer wondering if they could smell her on me. I zeroed in on Blackie, matching his expression of distaste, knowing while I was coming all over my newfound addiction, he was half tanked with his.

  Anthony cleared his throat, folded his hands and leaned over the table.

  “Reeses and I paid a visit to Vic over the weekend,” he started.

  “Yeah, how’s the poor bastard doing?” I asked, peeling my eyes from Blackie’s and focusing on Bianci, giving him the attention he came here expecting.

  “He’s still got a lot of connections, even on the inside,” Anthony stated. “More than I have being idle on the streets.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Didn’t think Vic would take up crocheting while doing life in prison, that man can’t let go of the mob, it’s imbedded in his soul.”

  “Jimmy’s going against everything Vic created. He’s pulling out of all legit businesses, sticking Grace with a ton of debt. The motherfucker’s greedy and he won’t stop. If he sees a way to make a dollar, he doesn’t care about consequences, he goes for it. He’s making money, hand over fist, but it’s not enough. He wants more.”

  “The well will run dry eventually,” I countered, taking another long pull of my beer.

  “Not until the streets we live on are polluted, lives are ruined and people are dead,” he declared.

  I stared at him, processing his words before I turned to Riggs.

  “Give us a minute, Riggs,” I said, pulling him out of the coma he seemed to be in.

  “Yeah?” He asked, looking confused.

  “You okay kid?” I questioned, scrutinizing him.

  “Kid’s probably got the shits,” Anthony surmised, suppressing a grin. “Just found out his favorite woman will be in town for a few weeks,” he continued, reaching over and squeezing Riggs’ shoulder.

  “You got yourself a woman?” Blackie asked.

  “Fuck no,” he protested, pointing his thumb toward Bianci. “This fucks crazy mother is coming home,” he groaned, turning to me. “Think you can put someone else on babysitting duty? Me and Carmela Soprano don’t exactly see eye to eye.”

  “The only eye she sees of yours is the black one she gave you,” I added, laughing through my words.

  “Don’t stress it too much, kid. She’ll be too preoccupied to pay much attention to you,” Anthony insisted, glancing down at the table, a small smile working his mouth.

  “You got something you want to share, brother?” I questioned, cocking my head to the side.

  He kept his head down for a second before lifting his eyes to mine, that smile teasing, his lips widened unable to shake it if he wanted to.

  “Adrianna’s pregnant,” he said.

  Seeing him genuinely happy, I couldn’t help but smile back at him, it was contagious.

  “That’s a fucking beautiful thing,” I reached out and patted his back. “Congrats, real happy for you man,” I added.

  “Thank you,” he replied, sincerely.

  “Congrats man,” Blackie gritted out.

  “Mama Leone is going to be a grandma? Fuck, if I thought she was crazy before, she’s going to be all sorts of bonkers now,” Riggs said, more to himself than the rest of us. He shook his head, rising to his feet, briefly glancing at Anthony. “Congrats on the kid,” he mumbled before heading toward the bar.

  I looked after him for a minute, watching as he checked his phone before reaching behind the bar and grabbing a bottle of Patron.

  “What’s his deal? He’s acting strange,” I said perceptively.

  “Isn’t he always like that?” Anthony asked, looking over his shoulder at Riggs who was taking swigs of the tequila, shouting about a worm or some shit in between gulps.

  I shook my head, dismissing any concern over Riggs as Blackie cleared his throat.

  “Think we can get back to the task at hand? Some of us have other shit we need to tend to,” Blackie sneered. “You wanted the Bulldog here. He’s here. Now talk.”

  Bianci fixed his gaze on Blackie, eyes darkening, a flicker of something he tried to bury in his new-found life reborn. There was no denying Anthony Bianci was once a brutal fuck who wouldn’t think twice about beating the shit out of someone.

  “Talk to me, Bianci,” I said, reeling him back in before he knocked Blackie out.

  He rolled his neck, sucked in a breath between his teeth before finally pulling his eyes off of my VP and shifting his stare back in my direction.

  “Jimmy’s looking for drugs and he’s looking for a large quantity. Remember awhile back you found out he had been visiting someone locked up close to the Canadian border?”

  “Yeah, we couldn’t get a name though, wound up being a dead end,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I tried to figure where he was going with this.

  “It came to light that the man he was visiting was the man who ordered the hit on Val. The man I was sent to prison to kill,” he revealed. “Don’t know how long they’ve been working together but I wouldn’t put it past Jimmy to h
ave had a hand in the hit on Val. Think about it—Val’s gone, paving the way for Jimmy to become the underboss. All the shit that’s gone on over the last couple of years with Vic; the body being discovered, Rico pulling the wool over Nikki’s eyes, Victor going down and Jimmy finally taking the throne—it all makes sense. This beef with the guy up near Canada started because Vic and Val shut down his operation when he pushed drugs through Vic’s territory,” Anthony continued.

  “What kind of drugs?” Blackie questioned.

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

  Poor Bastard.

  Still haunted by that shit.

  “Heroine,” Anthony declared, eyes moving back and forth between me and Blackie.

  Blackie’s hands clenched around his bottle at the word. Heroine robbed him of his wife, his future and his fucking conscience. To say it was a sore subject wouldn’t be right, it was a hard fucking limit.

  “Let me see if I follow so far. Jimmy was allegedly backstabbing Victor all these years, working him into the cell he’s rotting away in now. He killed Vic’s best friend and underboss, all because he was working with some other gangbanger to gain control over New York?”

  “For the most part, and now with Victor out of the way and Jimmy in control, they are looking to score some heavy drugs,” he affirmed.

  “This guy near Canada, he got a name?” I asked, curiously.

  “Gregorio,” he said.

  “So Jimmy fucked Victor, that’s not our business. You going to tell us something beneficial?” Blackie questioned.

  Bianci stared at me, gauging my reaction.

  “I think I just did,” he muttered. “Fuck, Vic was right,” he hissed, roughly threading his fingers through his hair.

  “Clue me in, brother,” Blackie demanded, leaning into me.

  “Gregorio,” I repeated the name.

  I ignored Blackie’s hardened glare that was laced with confusion and tried to piece things together.

  “Remember when Danny paid me a visit to Ryker’s?” I asked, glancing at Blackie and watched as he nodded in response before I continued. “Came to tell me he was writing me off and all that shit, that he was up for a promotion in the bureau. They were going to make him a director or whatever the fuck it’s called over RICO cases,” I added, swiping my hand over my face. “Said he couldn’t be associated with me anymore and had changed his name.” I stared at the ink that marked my forearm, Parrish, in big block letters, and closed my eyes. “Took our mother’s maiden name, Gregorio.”

  Blackie leaned back, staring at me in shock as I turned back to Anthony.

  “I don’t remember there being any other family. After my parents died there was my father’s sister who stuck around for a few days but as far as I was concerned the Gregorio clan was done for. I don’t think there is any relation, Danny was probably using the common thread to his advantage,” I said. I tried working out the possibilities in my head but it was a long fucking time ago, before the meds, when everything was a little blurry and a whole lot of fucked up.

  “Guy’s in his late sixties, early seventies. Back in the day he was known as the G-Man,” Anthony offered.

  “What did you just say?” Blackie snapped.

  “G-Man, that was his name on the streets,” he said, looking at Blackie for a clue.

  “The G-Man was Cain’s supplier,” Blackie whispered hoarsely.

  “Who’s Cain?”

  I clawed at the scruff that lined my jaw and looked over at Blackie, who was worlds away wallowing in the grief of his mistakes.

  “Take a minute,” I said to him. He lifted his bloodshot eyes to mine, and for the first time in years I saw the sheen of unshed tears fill them. “That’s an order,” I whispered.

  He didn’t fight me, he pushed back his chair, stumbled to his feet and stepped away from the table.

  I drew out a heavy sigh, the magnitude of everything dumped on me weighing me down.

  “Jack…” Bianci started.

  “Cain was the man I took the gavel from. He was the president of the Satan’s Knights and when he was in charge this club was all about drugs. We sold crack, cocaine, and heroine to anyone willing to buy. We had no morals, feeding the habits of kids…hell…even pregnant women,” I cringed at my words. “G-Man supplied the drugs to Cain, whatever he didn’t shoot or snort he handed over to us and we pushed the product on the street. We made a shitload of money but we all sacrificed our souls for a fucking dollar. Cain died, got hepatitis, probably from all the dirty needles.”

  “Jesus,” Anthony sneered, looking over his shoulder at Blackie who was throwing back a shot of bourbon. “And him?”

  I watched my brother beat himself down with the bottle.

  “His wife overdosed on his stash,” I explained. “Never knew she was hooked on his shit, had no fucking clue, until he found her face down in the bathroom, lying in her own vomit with a yellow band tied around her arm and a needle pushed deep inside her vein.”

  Speechless, Anthony stared back at me.

  “After Cain died, and I was voted as president I vowed to Blackie we’d clean this shit up. We’d make this club stand for something other than death. We never personally dealt with G-Man, so when we severed ties we did so with his henchmen. We paid him off to keep war away from the club but I wasn’t sure that would be enough. I didn’t trust the man, especially since he was a goddamn phantom. That’s when I went to Vic and told him my dilemma and he was all about keeping the drugs at bay. We agreed we’d shut G-Man down by pushing him out of our territory. To be honest Victor did most of the work, but whenever he needed back up he had the Satan Knight’s behind him.”

  I leaned forward, fixing him with a firm stare. “You need to find out if there is a blood tie between the G-Man and Danny. I don’t think there is but we should be sure,” I urged.

  He nodded instantly.

  “I’m on it,” he affirmed. “I got to ask you, you ever take my advice about seeking out Danny’s woman?”

  The moment he referenced Reina, I pictured her face, saw the broken girl that hid in the darkness and something inside of me tightened.

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “You don’t need for me to tell you this but I have to say it anyway,” he started.

  “I know,” I interrupted.

  “You need to find out if she’s involved in this shit before we go any further.” He continued, despite my efforts to stop him. “Put the brakes on that shit until we’re sure she isn’t in bed with them.”

  The idea of Reina being a part of this fucking mess, being in bed with my enemies, made me fucking sick. I didn’t want to think she was capable of that, not my Sunshine, but the truth was—she had secrets. A shitload of them and I hadn’t succeeded in chipping away at any of them. My first instinct was that she was too pure and was just as much a victim in this as anyone else, but I’d been proven wrong before. I couldn’t risk it, wouldn’t risk it, not for pussy. Not for the light my black soul craved.

  I lifted my head, eyes on Bianci as I nodded.

  “I’ll deal with her,” I vowed.

  He nodded in agreement as Blackie walked back toward the table. I met his gaze, saw the tears had been replaced with determination and watched as he turned to Anthony.

  “Bianci, you came here with a plan. Think it’s about time you divulged that shit to us,” he ground out.

  Anthony looked at me, I nodded agreeing with Blackie. He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

  “Jimmy’s on the prowl for kilos of heroine, you supply him, Vic will use his connections to bring Jimmy down,” he paused for a minute. “You guys can get your hands on that, keep feeding Jimmy until we have a chance to set the motherfucker up, then the plan is to send him away.”

  “So we supply him with the product, he disperses it, comes back for more, we give it, and what? He gets to breathe? What about the people he gets hooked on that shit? What about the people who
lose their lives to that shit? Their lives don’t matter, but his does?” Blackie shouted.

  “He won’t be breathing for long. Vic will be waiting for him,” Anthony said gravely.

  “Vic will do the hit?” I asked.

  “And if all goes according to plan, and the dust settles, he’ll get himself moved to the joint up near Canada, and finally be able to do what he’s been itching to do for years,” Anthony added.

  “He’s got a motherfucking death wish,” I mumbled.

  “That man died the day he sacrificed himself for his family. He’s got nothing left but this,” Anthony said solemnly.

  “You get me a meeting with Pastore,” Blackie said, turning his eyes to me. “I’ll get you the heroine, I’ll be Jimmy’s supplier but not without hearing it from Pastore’s mouth that he’s prepared to take out G-Man.”

  There was conviction in his voice, exhaustion in his eyes, a man determined to seek closure on his wife’s death, prepared to close that chapter of his life.

  I turned to Anthony.

  “Get us in with Victor,” I said.

  “No,” Blackie disagreed. “I said me. I don’t have anyone that needs me breathing,” he said.

  “I need you fucking breathing,” I fired back, not giving him a chance to say another word as I rose from my seat and pointed to Anthony. “Set it up.”

  I was done with this fucking conversation and walked away from the table. I went from having Reina’s pussy convulsing against my face to questioning if she was a goddamn enemy. No longer was I avenging my brother’s death but instead planning a fucking massacre. War was coming and death was getting ready to knock on Satan’s door. I stared up at the clock, the minute hand ticking ferociously, reminding me the time was coming to fucking resurrect the demons in us and reclaim our black souls.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I put in a few extra hours at the diner, staying for the breakfast rush, figuring the extra money will come in handy now that I had plans to buy a car. I smiled at the customers, took their orders as I refilled their coffee and lingered at the tables once I brought them their meals, ensuring they were satisfied.