by M. K. Gilher
She lowers her head to my shoulder and sniffles. She doesn't believe me, and why would she? I was a stranger to her less than twelve hours ago.
"When I'm worthy of you, I'll come back." I pet her hair as I speak into her ear. "Keep the jacket. Don't ever lose it, Ivy."
Her head pops up and her red, swollen eyes widen.
That's right, sweetheart. I know your name and you don't know mine.
I slide my gaze from her face to the police station. Viktor strides into the dusky morning and glares at us from the top of the steps.
I drop my arms and stare at the steering wheel. "Go to him. He'll protect you. Until I can."
With a sob that punches me in the gut, she opens the door and steps out.
I don't look up. I can't watch her walk up those steps to him. I put the car in gear and pull away from the curb. But damn if my head turns back—just once—to see him snake his arm over her shoulders and walk her to the parking lot behind the building.
Fuck.
I'll be back, Ivy.
I have a plan.
We just need time.
Chapter 6
Ivy
Through the majestic windows in Jacade's bedroom, I stare at the rotating glow of the giant, new Navy Pier Ferris wheel. Riders get a thrill circling two hundred feet above Lake Michigan. Jacade's vivid version of our story has fooled my heart into thinking it's riding on one of those state-of-the-art gondolas, the centrifugal force setting me off my axis.
"You didn't come back," I say, dazed as I return to the present.
"I did. Here I am."
I touch his cheek and scrutinize his noble face. Sometimes, when I watch the sunset over the water, I'll wait a while after the sun drops below the horizon. My favorite moment is when the surface of the water turns into a frosty ice-blue blanket. Jacade's eyes are that same cool, calm blue, and there's something so captivating about it, I can't look away.
"How could I not recognize you? Your eyes. I should have known your eyes."
"The clouds blocked any light from the moon. We sat under the stars and talked in shadows. I dropped you off before the sun rose. I've changed a lot too. Broke my nose and my jaw a few times each. Put on at least a hundred pounds."
"And you're nothing like him. He was so timid and insecure."
"I'm still that boy sometimes, but yes, I have more confidence now."
I shake my head slowly. He was the incredibly hot guy in the backseat. I took his car, but he stole my heart and my virginity that night. "Why? Why did you wait so long?"
"I made a deal with Bernard. In the first week, I'd boosted fifteen cars. Within a year, I'd made my first kill. The guilt consumed me. Even if Bernard permitted it—which he didn't—I couldn't bring that shame to your life. Two years later, when you ended it with Viktor, I talked about it with Bernard. I still wasn't in any position to support you, so he and Helen took you in. He commanded me to wait until I finished my schooling. Said we would self-destruct because I wouldn't follow orders if I were with you. You went away to college, and I went to medical school. I focused on my studies and my training. I follow orders at all costs, Ivy. It's how I made it to where I am."
He finishes his sentence and gazes at me with a raw darkness in his eyes. He's exposing his vulnerability to me by telling me truths he's held top secret for eighteen years. "Was Uncle Bernie at the police station that night?"
"Yes, Jude called Bernard in to help when I got arrested. Bernard and I watched you from the other side of a one-way mirror as he made his pitch and warned me to stay away from you. Bernard worked out a deal with Boothby—he was commissioner back then—to let us get off without any charges and make the paperwork disappear."
"I don't remember meeting him, but he gave me the creeps when I saw him at the hospital."
"Yeah, he's a creeper." He continues, "I've only disobeyed orders twice. That night when I came to pick you up off the bench and the day I saved your life when Viktor tried to kill you three years ago. Viktor was trying to get Bernard's attention. Bernard didn't want me to confront him, but I knew he would take it too far. You coded on the table, and I resuscitated you. I've already told you how that moment affected me."
I nod to let him know I remember his words at the surgery center.
These two hands were meant to worship your body. You opened your eyes and I was salvaged.
"After I saved you, I endured three long years watching you with that Kevin asswipe. I channeled my frustration into building my businesses, jumping out of planes, and kicking ass in the cage. I'm still the only undefeated fighter in my weight class. As soon as you got rid of Kevin"—he drags out his name in a taunting tone—"I approached Bernard for the umpteenth time and convinced him my rank in the organization would be enough to protect you in case Viktor or anyone else decided to go at you again. He saw the misery Kevin had caused you, and I'd proven myself time and again. He knew I would love you to the moon and back, so he declared it was time and brought me into the practice."
He smiles, and I stare at his dimple. "I can only imagine how expectant you must have felt the day I returned to work."
"I admit I was a coward and took my chance in the elevator before you saw me. The connection was so immediate, I tried to hold back, but the energy crackled between us like it had eighteen years before. The first time we came face-to-face, you were flustered after your pornographic activities on my desk, and I was relieved you didn't recognize me. I wanted you to get to know me as the man I am now."
"You were my first," I say in shocked awe.
"I was." He's still smiling. He's proud of this.
"You've loved me all this time?"
"I have."
"My body remembered you," I say. "I just couldn't place you with that night."
"We were only together for a few hours during a dark, stressful night. The two weeks you've known me as an adult have been tumultuous too. You would've put it together on your own eventually. I was going to wait till you were fully recovered, but you need to hear it now."
"I waited for you." He's trusting me with this, and I should be careful not to say anything to compound his guilt, but we are sharing honestly. "I thought you were a jerk for not keeping your word."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He presses his forehead to mine. "If I could change it, I would. I was young and stupid. I never should've agreed to let you go. Looking back, I should've told Bernard to fuck off, and we could've been runaways together. We could've slept at Frank's hangar. But Bernard also threatened to throw you in jail for stealing the car. I couldn't let that happen to you. I thought I'd be able to come for you in a few years, and we could start a life together. That obviously didn't happen."
He climbs on the bed and hovers over me, his strong arms like pillars on either side of my shoulders. He doesn't let his hips touch me though.
"My body memorized yours," he says. "The wait was excruciating, but I claimed you here in this bed, and my restless soul found purchase in this world. When I made love to you, I returned to the house that built me."
He lowers his head to press a gentle kiss to my lips. A whimper escapes my mouth as the impact hits me. He's made monumental sacrifices for me. All because of a moment two teenagers shared on a blanket in a field under a starlit sky. The kiss tastes bittersweet as the lost opportunity pierces my heart. A blossoming love squashed by circumstance. What alternate life could we have lived if he didn't leave that night?
How could the reality he's described be so different from what I remember? He wasn't just another man who disappointed me. A pivotal event in my life was something I thought didn't happen. I forced myself to believe he didn't mean his words, but I forced myself to believe a lie.
I open my mouth to deepen the kiss and grab his shoulder, digging my fingers in to pull him closer. I need him inside me. We have to rekindle this seed that's been dormant under the snow for almost two decades. He gives in to the kiss for a blissful moment and forces his tongue against mine. His body s
creams at me to reconnect. Just when I think I'll get my way, he withdraws with a frustrated sigh, removing my hand from his shoulder and pushing me back against the pillow.
He maneuvers to a spooning position behind me, and his erection pokes my spine. I wiggle my ass to tease him.
His firm hand squeezes my hip and holds me in place. "We can't, Ivy. Stop torturing me. Sleep."
"You're torturing me too with that story, that kiss, that delicious cock against my backside."
He groans and nuzzles his nose into the hair at the back of my neck. "Your pain meds should be kicking in. We'll talk more in the morning."
I close my eyes, and the eighteen-year-old images trickle to my cortex in rivulets.
Driving scary fast in that Mustang and the shock when he popped up from the backseat.
The pink pastry box.
Feeling a boy inside me for the first time.
The disappointment when he didn't come back.
One thing before I drift off. "For the record, I did not jump you. You totally jumped me."
He chuckles. "Yeah, right. You wanted me bad."
I did want him badly. Still do.
Chapter 7
Ivy
We sit at his dining table eating a breakfast of coffee, English muffins with raspberry jam, and fresh cut peaches and pears. It's all delicious, and I love this normal, intimate moment between us without the ever-present edge of tension created by the dark secrets he keeps.
The morning is bright, and Jacade's posture is more relaxed and at ease, probably because he has finally trusted me enough to tell me his story, however bleak it might be, and in turn reduced the burden on him. The swelling around his eye has lessened, but the bruising is an angry shade of dark purple I wish I could wash away with soap and water. He's removed the bandage from his lips, and I inspect the vertical gash on his lower lip for the first time. It looks so much better than the bloody open wound I saw when I walked into his cell. I'm relieved his lips will heal, and I can kiss them again.
I stare at him and try to imagine him as the ruthless gangster he described himself to be last night. To me, he's a respected surgeon. How could he have lead two lives for so long?
"Go ahead, ask."
"Are you in the mob?"
"No. We clash with them sometimes, but it's not the Mafia. The Council for Strategic Advancement operates as a non-profit corporation that sponsors teenage boys through college. In return, the men are indebted to the organization for the rest of their lives."
"Your whole life? How do they control you?"
"The council keeps tabs on our finances and holds our crimes over our heads. Council members are… encouraged to donate a percentage of their gross salary to the NPO." He says encouraged and donate with irony in his voice. "We're also required to patronize member-owned establishments."
"And what are your establishments?"
"My investments are mostly in the hospitality industry. Mogul was the first business I got off the ground and running. La Mia Edera was second. I own a few casinos in Vegas and Atlanta."
"And what establishments do they make you support?"
"I contribute to the underground fighting ring run by Colonel Mahoney and donate to campaigns for judges like Conroy and senators like Boothby. Some members sell pharms and narcotics. A few still boost and chop cars."
"Narcotics? Like cocaine?"
"Yeah, and meth, X, some weed." He looks down, and his brow furrows. Talking about it is difficult for him. "The money is laundered so many times, it's squeaky clean when it comes out and no one can trace it, which is why I'm not worried about the FBI. Everything's legit on paper. For me, anyway."
He adjusts his chair so he's facing me and our knees touch. He takes my hands in his and doesn't blink as he stares at me. I'm adrift in the angular peaks of his thick lashes.
"Was Viktor in the organization when I was with him?"
"Yeah. He was three years my senior, but I outranked him within five years. He had you stealing cars, the moron. Bernard wanted him to keep you away from the heat, but Viktor didn't follow orders and threw you right into the fire. Viktor was on Boothby's crew. The FBI is questioning Gerry about the corpses we left behind."
"Who's Raymond?"
"Ray Carillo is Helen's father and head of the council. Judge Conroy is acting boss while Ray is recovering from a stroke in an assisted living facility."
He squeezes my hands and rubs his thumbs over my knuckles. The trace of his touch reassures me.
"Why did Uncle Bernie want to keep me away?"
"Well, I've always believed he cared for your well-being like I did. But Viktor said some fucked-up shit at the farmhouse that makes me question the agenda Bernard has been spouting all these years. You overheard me confronting him."
"You asked him if I was a commodity. Viktor said I was valuable and he would turn me over to his side."
"Yeah. Bernard has history with Boothby that involves you, but he denied it. I have a feeling I can get the truth out of Helen. We'll meet with her tomorrow. Take today to rest and absorb what I've told you so far. I have to go to a council meeting this afternoon. Shane will stay with you."
"Okay."
"Okay." He presses his lips to mine in a whisper of a kiss.
"I like that you're trusting me."
"I trust you."
***
Jacade
The last time I came through this entrance, I propped the door open for Ivy and Helen with a brick. Back then, Ivy was still blissfully unaware, outside the glass dome of my torrid life. But in my egocentric desire for her, I opened this metal door in an alley and let her in.
I walk into the room and glance at the kitchenette. Today she's not peering through the crack of the door swallowing truths about her man and her uncle no woman should ever have to imbibe.
Today she's at my penthouse digesting the whole awful truth as she recovers from a gunshot to her abdomen.
A week ago, I carried a pink cardboard box for her for the second time in her life. If only a pink box could spare her this time. No. This time it's going to be a lot more complex and dangerous to save her from me.
I take the second chair from the head, not acknowledging Bernard in the seat to my right. I take a deep breath and put on my game face. I can't lose my cool today or I'll ruin everything.
I nod at the nine men to my left on our side of the table and scan the faces of the eleven men sitting across from me. Boothby sits in the first chair opposite Bernard. Mahoney attempts to make eye contact, but I skim over him like he's invisible. The fifth seat remains empty. Viktor won't be attending today's meeting.
Tap-tap-tap.
I drum my fingers on the arm of my chair and wait for the show to begin.
Judge Conroy stands at the head of the table and clears his throat. "Gentleman, thank you for coming today. Everyone's cell phones secured elsewhere?"
No one ever answers his stupid question.
"Excellent. We're meeting today to discuss the events that occurred last week. For those who haven't heard, Viktor kidnapped Trip and held him captive at a property outside the city. The years of rivalry between them boiled over and erupted in violence. In the end, Trip walked away and Viktor is gone. Two low-level grunts and Viktor's sister were killed too. Hopefully, this marks the end of the Karson-Jordan vendetta and tension between the two sides will ease now."
He crosses his arms as his punitive eyes scan the room. Man, he's ugly.
"The lesson here, gentlemen, is we need to keep our shit tight." His gaze stops on Boothby. "Gerry, you should've ordered the hit on Viktor when he made a scene at Mogul. Your delay caused Amber and Ivy to get hurt. Viktor violated the code of honor by involving the women. This is absolutely unacceptable and could've been prevented. I know you're busy on the campaign trail, Gerry, but put a man you trust in charge when you're not here to manage liabilities like Viktor."
Like I said. This is on Boothby. Not me. Conroy turns to me and steeples his fingers on t
he table.
"Trip, we're glad you survived. Happy to have you back. We almost lost a veteran enforcer and cornerstone of the outfit."
Yeah, right. Thanks so much for coming to get me, asshole.
"Trip has been unwaveringly faithful to the CSA for almost twenty years, and his death would've impacted us all. He's one of the few among us with the strength and potential to lead the council into prosperity in the future."
Mahoney rolls his eyes to the ceiling at Conroy's obvious endorsement of me.
"Trip." Conroy nods at me because it's my turn to speak.
I don't stand up. Let them think I'm casual about this. "An Agent Hunter Drake from the FBI contacted me at the hospital. He had been undercover, but didn't penetrate our operation. Said he was investigating Viktor. It would be unwise of us to assume there are not more spooks on the periphery or in the ranks."
The men shift in their seats and scowls appear on their faces as the grave tendrils of this octopus finally reach them in their pockets.
"Meet with your legal advisors, run detailed sweeps for moles, tell your accountant to prepare for audits. Code for all correspondence. Diligence with phones. Plug any leaks. We'll do the same at headquarters."
Conroy stands again and stares at Bernard. "I'd like to reiterate the battle between Trip and Viktor is over. No retaliation from either side. Hear me, Bernard?"
"Of course, Judge Conroy."
Conroy twists toward Gerry. "Boothby, Viktor shot his own man and the girl. Trip took out Viktor and his soldier. It's even. Let it go."
Yeah, let it go, Elsa.
"I understand," Gerry answers, looking contrite.
Bernard stands and coughs before he speaks. "I've spoken with Raymond. His health is failing. He's requested each of us to visit and say our goodbyes. We should plan for his funeral and replacement." He lowers his head in respect for our boss.
I clap slowly in my head. Stellar performance, old man.
"As usual, eyes open, mouths shut. Meeting adjourned," Conroy calls out.
I stand and walk out of the room without a word. I'm holding my cards until I know exactly what the situation is with Raymond, Bernard, and the vote.
