Uncontrollable Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 3)

by Infante Bosco, Janine

  “What other lies are there?” I asked, as the tears streamed down my cheeks. I hated myself more than I ever felt ashamed of my scars. I hated that I loved Jack Parrish. I hated that I cried. I hated that he lied. But more than that, I hated that he looked so distraught because I still wanted to be the one who took away his pain. How stupid was I? The pain of his lies gutted me and all I wanted to do was heal him.

  “I said no more lies but there is something else you need to know,” he shared.

  Why did I ask?

  “When you told me about the fire, you surmised it wasn’t an accident and it wasn’t,” he said. “Forensic report came back that it was a faulty attic fan but that shit was tampered with, an insurance policy to guarantee Danny was dead and any evidence he had burned right along with him. I can guarantee you the man responsible for taking Danny’s life and causing you all that pain, the man who gave you those scars you hide, he will pay and he will pay dearly.”

  I stared at him blankly, my tears instantly stopped as I registered what he was saying. In an instant I was back in the house and I was staring at Danny’s lifeless body. I remembered staring at his hand, seeing the blood pouring from the wound of where his finger had been sliced off. I knew Danny had been murdered. I thought the fire was a coincidence even though a part of me believed it wasn’t. I rationalized that the flames that ate away at my skin, the scars that forever marked my body was due to an accident. I lived life after the fire believing I was a victim of circumstance—but like Danny, I was a victim of violence.

  “Why are you doing this?” I sobbed, staring into Jack’s eyes, a man who lived off of violence. One percenter. Outlaw. The man who held a gun to my head last night when he lost his mind.

  “I’m telling you the truth because you deserve it. Because I know I don’t deserve you. All this shit, these lies, they brought you into my life and I’ve decided that I want to bury the lies and keep you in my life. You’re right, reality can’t be built on lies. But it’s our beginning and I won’t let it be our ending, even two lost souls like us deserve a happy ending,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll give you a happy ending, Reina, you just gotta let me. Give me a chance and I’ll make it good for you, I’ll give you everything I got. Every-fucking-thing because I know I’m not worthy and I know you deserve better,” he solemnly swore. “You brought sunshine into my world, and now it’s my turn to give it back.”

  Lies.

  Happiness was the biggest lie of all.

  The doorbell rang and someone banged ferociously on the door, sparing me of having to respond to Jack and his promise to fix all he broke with his lies. His truth was the dagger that sliced my heart, tearing it into shreds.

  He cursed, stepping around me and pulled open the door.

  “Now’s not a good time,” he hissed.

  “Too fucking bad, gave you twenty-four hours to wallow in your shit,” Blackie said, pushing past Jack and walking into the house.

  I wiped at my face and pulled Jack’s shirt down my thighs, wishing I could disappear.

  “See you found your man. Thanks for keeping my car in one piece,” he said, as his eyes took in my tear stained face. He turned abruptly and glared at Jack. “What the fuck did you do?”

  “Mind your fucking business,” he barked.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for a lovers fucking quarrel, brother,” he bit out.

  Jack stared over Blackie’s shoulder at me.

  “Take Reina home,” he ordered his brother.

  “I don’t need anyone to take me anywhere,” I replied.

  “Either he drives you home or I do,” he demanded.

  “Fine,” I turned my gaze to Blackie. “Give me a minute to grab my things.”

  He sighed, looking back and forth between me and Jack before nodding curtly.

  “Five minutes,” he affirmed, crossing his arms against his chest.

  I nodded and started for the stairs when Jack grabbed my arm, forcing me to turn around.

  “You…” he whispered, “…you own me, Reina, all of me. Even the parts I thought died a long time ago.”

  He lifted my hand and placed it over his chest, over his heart. I felt it beating beneath my hand. A beating heart was alive inside of him and the rhythm of those beats belonged to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Blackie stared at me silently as I walked toward the dining room table and picked up a pack of Marlboros.

  “Got a light?” I asked, pushing the cigarette between my lips as I walked passed him to the front door. He followed me outside, sitting beside me on the stoop and produced a lighter from his pocket. I handed him the pack of cigarettes and he took one for himself.

  “You want to talk about that?” He questioned, looking over his shoulder toward the door.

  “What’s the point? You probably know more about my actions than I do,” I muttered.

  “Not talking about your breakdown, talking about your woman,” he commented, taking a pull of his cigarette. “I was wrong about her, you know,” he offered, causing me to turn and stare at him.

  “How’s that?”

  “Guess you didn’t listen to your messages yet,” he grunted. “Gold came by the clubhouse unannounced,” he said, raising his eyes to mine. “Gotta tell you man, you should probably wife that one,” he said seriously, as he blew out a ring of smoke.

  “She was there when Gold came by?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Why the hell was she still there?”

  “What part of unannounced didn’t you comprehend? It's fine, Jimmy thinks she’s just a club whore. She didn’t ask questions, just did as I told her—but she saw some shit,” he added, turning his attention toward the street.

  “What kind of shit?” I asked, clenching my fist.

  “Gold didn’t like I was the man delivering the product, said he didn’t trust me. As an act of good faith he forced me to sample the H,” he admitted, running his fingers through his hair roughly and flicking his cigarette into the street before turning his eyes back to me. “Wifey saw me with a needle in my arm and didn’t run away, she just ran right to you.”

  The blood in my veins ran cold as I studied Blackie, watching as he lifted his sunglasses, giving me a view of the dark circles that shadowed his bloodshot eyes. He slowly rolled up his sleeve and flicked his forearm in search for the bruised vein.

  “No sweat, just once, didn’t even leave much of a mark,” he ground out.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you deal with that prick by yourself,” I responded. “I’m making a mess of things, letting everything with Jimmy get the best of me for months now.”

  “It’ll all be over soon,” he said, pulling down his sleeves and lowering his glasses back to cover his eyes.

  “Even so, doesn’t make it okay,” I replied, cupping his shoulder. “You good?” I asked, my conscience eating away as I realized the sacrifice he’d made, the dignity he lost as he pushed that poison into his body.

  “I’m good,” he replied. “Be better when these motherfuckers are off the streets.” He turned, and I felt his gaze—even behind the mask of the shaded lenses. “We will get them, right? We’re going to make Gold and the G-Man pay aren’t we?”

  “Yeah, brother, we are,” I assured him, knowing he needed to hear my words, he needed to believe there would be retribution after all this. I needed to hear it too, but there was no one there to remind me. I had to be the man who delivered the punishment. It was a promise to myself that I needed to live by. The front door opened and Reina stormed out. She wouldn’t even look at me, her eyes were swollen and puffy as they looked everywhere but at me.

  Retribution.

  My punishment for my sins was right there in Reina’s eyes.

  “If you’re taking me then let’s go…now,” she said, crossing her arms against her chest as she stared down at Blackie, avoiding eye contact with me.

  She was cute when she was mad, pouty lips and fire in
her eyes, tapping her toe impatiently. My dick stirred to life, and I decided after this shit storm died down I’d remember that pout and that vengeful look in her eyes as I fucked her senseless, erasing all the anger from her body.

  I stood up, closing the distance between us and shoved my hands inside my pockets, respecting her boundaries as she took a step away from me. “Waited a long time for someone to be by my side, you’re my old lady now, I don’t want to wait any longer,” I reminded her.

  “Keys,” Blackie called behind me, and I watched as Reina dug inside her purse and threw them toward him. She looked back at me, her eyes softening a little.

  “I thought I was done hurting,” she whispered. “Goodbye, Jack,” she added.

  Fuck her boundaries.

  I pulled my hands out of my pockets and lifted them to her face, turning her to me, I held on tight as I leaned into her.

  “Gonna make that hurt disappear, Sunshine,” I vowed, pressing my mouth against hers, letting my lips glide over hers teasingly, a promise of more lingering between us. We weren’t done, and this wasn’t goodbye, we were just beginning. I pulled away and stared into her glassy eyes before dropping my hands from her face and turning to Blackie.

  “Meet you back at the clubhouse,” I said, stepping around Reina. He nodded before turning to walk to his truck. I glanced at Reina and watched as she stared back at me silently for a moment.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  I swallowed hard as I felt the sincerity of her words down in my bones. She was respecting my grief for my estranged brother. Hope sparked inside of me realizing that even after the lies she still gave a damn. Maybe it was just the person Reina was, maybe it had nothing to do with the way she felt about me. Whatever it was, I was certain Reina was the Hail Mary to all my sins. She made me want to be a better man, to be just a little like her.

  “I’m sorry for yours,” I replied, and for a split second I wondered if my brother was better suited for her, if he cared about her like I did.

  “For what it’s worth I think we’re mourning two different people,” she said sadly. I thought about her words and wondered if there was a trace of the Danny I knew in the man Reina loved. If there was anything left of my brother or did he die long before the fire like I assumed he had when he wrote me off.

  “Reina, remember what I told you,” I said, my voice more of a request than a demand. “Remember I’m your guy.”

  She remained silent and if my eyes weren’t focused on her I may have missed the slight nod of her head before she turned and climbed into Blackie’s truck.

  I stood outside staring after Blackie’s truck long after he left before I kicked my ass into gear and walked into my house. Funny how it felt like home when she was there and now, it was back to being just a house.

  I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and powered it on for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. Jimmy Gold wasn’t going to take advantage of Blackie—he would not get the upper hand. It was time to bring the motherfucker to his knees.

  My phone chimed, alerting me of the several voicemails I had missed, so before I called the cocksucker I played the messages.

  Hi Dad, it’s me…Lacey. I know today is a rough one, but I wanted you to know that I’m here…I’m still here. Love you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and saved her message, making a mental note to give my girl a call, maybe take her for dinner. Guilt, it was a bitch.

  Parrish, it’s Gold. I’m not a very patient man, that being said, this is the third time I’m calling you to discuss our partnership. Call me back.

  “Asshole,” I muttered, hitting delete.

  Yo, it’s me. Blackie’s voice slurred through the end of the phone. We’re good with Gold. Only problem was Reina got thrown into the mix. You might want to wife that bitch because she gave Jimmy a stellar performance. Good girl you got there, brother. Sorry for giving you so much shit. Anyway, I gave her my car, and she’s hunting for you. Here’s to hoping she can pull you away from your misery.

  I thought about Blackie facing the choice of whether he should shoot the heroin or put a bullet between Gold’s eyes. I bet his wife’s face flashed before him as he emptied the syringe into his vein, I bet that nearly killed him. I thought of Reina witnessing that shit and how she had already been a victim of Jimmy Gold’s brutality, how she was marked by him in a way no one ever should be branded.

  Jack, I got news. The kind you don’t talk about over the phone. Call me back. Bianci’s voice boomed.

  A lot could happen in twenty-four hours.

  This message is for Jack Parrish. I am a clerk at the state medical examiner’s office and we are calling regarding the release of Daniel Gregorio’s remains. Please call us to discuss arranging a discharge. You can reach me at 718-556-5481, thank you.

  I dropped the phone from my ear and stared at it in disbelief. Was my mind playing me again? I ended the voicemail playback, not wanting to listen to another since they all seemed to be one worse than the other.

  Time to saddle up motherfucker, I told myself as I rubbed my hands vigorously over my face. I mentally made a list of things to do, starting with a shower and then I’d make my way to the Dog Pound and take my meds, like the good maniac I strive to be.

  Be better, asshole.

  Be better for Lacey.

  Be better for Reina.

  Make Junior proud.

  He’s safe now.

  My list was pretty cut and dry. The tasks not all that hard, but each one just as important as the next.

  Call Lacey. Let her know I didn’t bite the bullet.

  Meet with Bianci.

  Show that prick Gold, who the fuck is boss.

  Claim my brother’s remains and lay him to rest. It’s only right I bury him properly after I took his woman.

  Make it right with Reina.

  I pulled my bike in front of the compound, slowly lifting my helmet off my head and glanced around the lot. Bianci jumped out of his truck and rushed toward me. I diverted my eyes to the passenger side of his truck and watched a woman step out. She looked familiar, similar to his wife yet older. Realization set in as she came closer. Her eyes were dull, her face tired and worn, all a result of standing beside the man she loved. They say the people who sit quietly behind the scenes are the ones affected the most. Staring at Grace Pastore I became a believer.

  “We got trouble,” Bianci stated, eyeing his mother-in-law.

  I tore my eyes from Grace’s and was about to ask him what he was talking about when my cell phone vibrated inside my pocket. Blackie’s truck rolled through the gate of the compound and out of the corner of my eye I watched as he parked in his usual spot. The door opened to the compound and a sickening feeling crept inside my gut as Riggs, Bones, Pipe and Wolf emerged. The band of brothers felt it too, the nagging warning of impending doom.

  I glanced down at the phone and lifted the screen to Bianci to show him Gold was calling.

  He nodded, giving me the green light to answer the phone. I accepted the call and lifted the phone to my ear.

  “What can I do for you, Jimmy?” I asked, keeping my eyes trained on Grace who turned to Anthony with pleading eyes.

  “Three…two…one,” Jimmy drawled into the phone before disconnecting the call. I looked down at the phone perplexed.

  “He hung up,” I said, lifting my head. Bianci took a step back, eyes sharp as they spanned the property.

  “Talk to me Bianci,” I ordered.

  The thing about lists, about plans, is that they usually go astray—but then again all the planning in the world wouldn’t have prepared me for what was about to happen.

  A blast erupted, amber lights all aglow as Blackie’s truck was blown to smithereens. The impact of the explosion threw us back, knocking some of us to the ground, others dropping voluntarily to take cover.

  A lot could happen in twenty-four hours.

 
; Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ever wonder what would’ve happened if you turned left instead of right? If someone hit the backspace button on the story to your life? What would change? Would you be surrounded by the same people? Would you love them or hate them? Who decides that shit anyway? They say you have one life to live and to make the best of it but that’s not really true, is it? We aren’t the scribers of the pages to our stories. There is someone else writing them, someone else deciding who stays and who leaves, who we love and who we hate. You’re not in control of your destiny, it’s already written for you. It’s been decided and the final proof submitted for editing. No more backspace button—the moment you breathe your first breath your story is published.

  Growing up, I remember my grandma telling me that the Lord only gives us what we can handle.

  He’ll never give you more than you can chew, darling.

  Those were the words of wisdom that brought me to church after the fire, and those same words brought me here today. It was a weekday so the chapel was empty, but still I sat in the last pew. I stared at the altar, diverting my eyes to the crucifix that hung above and wondered if the man crucified was the scriber of this story.

  I don’t know why I made Blackie drop me off at the church. It’s not like I’m a religious person. It’s true, I only believe in God sometimes because most of the time I can’t believe that there is a man who sacrificed his own life and sits idly watching as others suffer. Shouldn’t he intervene with his divine powers?

  Maybe my perception of who God is and what his powers are is off. But I can’t help but wonder why people preach that God is great when I look around and see so many people suffering. Why did Danny die and I survive? How did his brother’s life intertwine with mine? Did I go right when I was supposed to go left? There were no signs pointing which way to go. I kept moving and collided with Jack.