Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  It wouldn’t matter much except it is a bold move to steal guns and ammo from Cinco, and part of the reason Kaci won’t go to see her parents again at their new home in Brownsville. She was raised in Corpus Christi, but they recently moved to the tip of Texas. Her adoptive father was promoted to the enormous biker gang and her brothers, Javier, Camilo, and Pico were all becoming heavily involved.

  I had big ideas for bridging the gap and bringing one of them into our fold. I recently asked Kaci which one would be most likely to buckle under our pressure. “I would prefer if it were Pico because we are so close in age,” she said, giving my question some thought. “But honestly, you would probably come close to getting Cam.”

  After my inquiry, I asked Georgia to build profiles on each of the brothers. It seemed only fitting for our little party to include one of notorious Neves sons in our mission. They had insight we could use.

  Pico Neves was the youngest and a little hellion. He had a way of getting caught on silly charges and doing short stints in prison. He was twenty-four and had already been behind bars half a dozen times. His early rebellious attitude veered into adulthood. He couldn’t stand me, and if I were honest, I wasn’t all too fond of him either.

  On the other hand, the eldest boy, Javier Neves, followed in his father’s footsteps. He ranked up fast within the club. He had a wife and two kids and a gorgeous home outside of Brownsville. He hadn’t received such high acclamation for nothing though as he was a risky son of a bitch. He served the club well by forming relationships with the cartels in Mexico and South America. The networking of business was never built behind a desk but in social circles. The surveillance photos revealed the outlandish parties for which Javier proved to be the social butterfly with poison-wings, dusting everyone he didn’t like. We weren’t tight, but I had managed to escape his radar.

  The middle son, Camilo Neves, was a bit of an odd duck, staying in the shadows and out of the limelight. With one of his brothers a magnet for trouble and the other one being a leader amongst the several thousand-member strong club, the thirty-four-year-old Cam kept to himself. He never married or had kids—at least none we could find. His biggest sin—he liked to do murals of graffiti, but even that he was contracted to do so by legal means. He wasn’t a patch wielding, gun-toting member of Cinco, and that to me – at least in that circle – meant he wasn’t a very proud, or pleased, member.

  In actuality, we had no beef with Cinco, or we wouldn’t be coming to their rescue for the stolen bangs. We were doing it as a favor to Saint Cruz because the trouble posed a real threat to his criminal acts. He didn’t want any part of the war with the North, so he called Dom. And Dom agreed to try and keep the peace in the Big Easy. He didn’t want issues there either. Better to keep the underworld sedated and happy than have an all-out massacre breaking out between Gennaro/Raniero and Cinco.

  It was a toss-up who would win, but the casualties would be considerable. And I didn’t think it was worth it. The northern team just needed to get—flee and scram. There were other ways of distributing their weapons. They chose not to do it because by going up through the mid-section they could drop them off like mail. They were feeding the smaller gangs, but more importantly—they were building relationships which equaled more men and safe houses along the route. Not only were their numbers expanding, but they were inching closer and closer to the South, and it wouldn’t be long before they were crossing into a territory that didn’t belong to them, but Delarte Cristos and company.

  With Georgia’s estimates, we predicted we had less than five years before they solidified the whole northern quad if Gennaro and Raniero managed to keep the peace. And that was a big if—as the rival Italian bosses were never the best of friends. Nonetheless, we needed to begin making preparations for the fallout should they keep their shit together and draw a line in the plains of Texas.

  I saw the possibility of a more significant connection with the members of Cinco and the clubs in the South. If I could get their guns back, they would vouch for my taking Texas off Cristos’ hands. And that meant one thing—Iris would be under my watch.

  Did I understand how ludicrous it all seemed to launch an all-out battalion just for the sake of one girl?

  Yes, but she wasn’t just one girl.

  She was one girl, holding the entirety of Kaci’s intel in her mind. Iris was innocent – relatively – and had no clue Kaci implemented such so long ago. It was easy to do if you had time, money, and means. At that point, Kaci had plenty of resources, and for better or worse, she used them against Iris.

  So, Dom’s call wasn’t—“Please have Christmas with me, I’m lonely,” but rather, “Please help me get the stash back to Cinco, and we can elevate your game.”

  “We’ll leave on Tuesday,” I say as Amber’s fingers run over my back. “I’ll see you then, but do me one favor…”

  “Anything, Boss.”

  I smirk at his banter, but somewhere in my mind, I understand he means it as I’ve got the potential to pull all the strings tight. I bring unlikely sorts together and provide a common goal we all work towards.

  “Get Georgia on a plane Sunday night. Have her set up a temporary command center in your study. I like the view of the backyard from there, and I can watch Amber swim naked in your heated pool.”

  I hear her giggle behind me.

  “Does Kaci need anything?”

  “More time,” I scoff as I scratch my chin.

  His silence offers a prayer between us. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “How dangerous is this?” Amber asks as we make coffee and breakfast.

  “Depends if we intercept or not,” I honestly reply as I pop the toast in. “You know they won’t be happy if we swipe their stash out of their hands.”

  “How are you going to keep everyone safe between now and then?”

  The truth was I didn’t know.

  “I leave you in New Orleans with Dom and send a small team to keep an eye on Iris.”

  Her eyes scan down my body as I take her into my arms. “Sal, you need me though…”

  Tell me about it.

  “If I do this, I instantly get a big red target on my back,” I mutter, pulling her closer. “And I cannot risk losing you.”

  Her expression shifts to a horrified gaze. “… You think they know?”

  “If I know my father, he has eyes on me now.”

  Her eyes blink as the reality takes shape in her mind. Amber is a smart girl, and it doesn’t take her long to add up the tabulations and envision the picture. “How do you live like this?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” I mumble, pressing my lips to her head. I close my eyes and smell the scent of her shampoo. “I must keep you safe.”

  “Because I’m your cumpot.” Her giggle spurs on my grin, but there is a serious note to her words.

  Pushing her back, I implore with a stern hold of her arms. “You are not my cumpot. You may be many things, but you are not just a cum receptacle. You are so much more.” I couldn’t define what that so much more was, but it didn’t matter as Amber and I had an absolute intimacy in our bond. “You are my girl.”

  Her smile warms the chill between us as we find a happy place in chaos. I don’t want to deal with the shit in New Orleans, but I have no choice. I must work like the hound Kaci taught me to be, and in the end, as sad as it may sound, it doesn’t matter if my wife is dying. The underworld won’t get to take advantage of my lapse because I won’t let there be one. I will remain focused and determined professionally. While internally, I churn with an agony unlike any I have ever known.

  “So, instead of red and green, we’re going purple, green, and gold for Christmas?” Kaci interrupts our private moment from the doorway. “I like it! I’m going to need one of those jester hats.”

  “I knew you would love the idea,” I say as I hesitate to relinquish Amber. Kaci’s view of our budding relationship is slightly uncomfortable.

  Fucking Amber is one thing; falling in love with her
is quite another. I’m not saying I am either, but a mutual love does exist, and it is causing bumps in our marriage. Kaci had to be aware I couldn’t be with Amber in this situation and not let my feelings deepen. It was a given. But the moment with Amber in my arms as my wife looks on is an awkward, difficult one that says something about the shifting of loyalties.

  Kaci would tell me this is what she wants. She longs for me to live and that includes loving. There is nothing to say or words to express the complexities of our dynamic. Kaci is leaving, and Amber is catching me. No one is happy about it. Not even Amber who gets the privilege of walking away with me. She’s admitted her feelings of guilt and remorse in the quiet of the night as she seeks solace in my arms.

  In agreeing to our holiday getaway, I know I must part ways with Amber and face Kaci’s upcoming weeks alone. I’ll have Jaid, my hand, and a Pixie hellbent on handing me every last lesson until the bitter end.

  “Can I have a bath and a cup of coffee?” Kaci whispers as we approach. I refuse to take my hands from Amber. She isn’t a second-hand whore, but Sal Raniero’s mistress. She deserves to be pampered, worshipped, and adored. Kaci wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I’ll go start the water,” Amber pleasantly offers. “You want bubbles?”

  Kaci nods. “Lots, please.”

  I turn to head back to the kitchen when Kaci grabs my hand. “Yes?”

  “I know you are going to try and be the hero, but don’t rush it just because you feel a need to protect Iris. Haste won’t get you anywhere but six feet under the dirt. And while I would appreciate the company, you have far too much life left to live to do something stupid.”

  “I won’t push it,” I concede, knowing the slight fabrication in my words. I routinely stretch the boundaries of what is possible as I don’t simply stick to the mundane rulebook. Thinking outside of the box in many regards of my life, I like bending, twisting, and breaking the rules. If I accept everything given, I wouldn’t be here right now, but in Boston, working alongside my father. “I have too much to do.”

  “You do,” she says with a broad smile. “My work.”

  I’m not sure if it is a curse or a blessing – this goal Kaci has given me – but I know of its importance. I must respect and honor it to preserve her memory and achievement. The rowdy, misfit bunch of criminal offspring, uniting together to form an allegiance to take out the big fish. We are the underdogs, but I accept the position because I enjoy proving the naysayers wrong. I try not to think about what happens after we succeed. Will we go at it? Will we destroy one another? Or worse yet, will we become our fathers?

  “Your work is mine,” I say with a commitment. “I will not fail.”

  “Don’t lose you in becoming me.”

  I snarl. “I could say the same thing to you.”

  Her head tilts curiously. “… You saw me watching you last night?”

  “I did,” I answer with a hint of defiance. “Why do you think I fucked her so hard?”

  She whispers, “Because I’m jealous.”

  “I know. And you aren’t jealous of her; you’re jealous of me.”

  A single giggle escapes from her lips. “My never-ending fascination with your tool.”

  “My tool as you say,” I growl, lowering my lips to meet hers. “Misses you.”

  In the bubbles, I listen to Sal and Amber straightening up our bedroom. Sheets are changed, trash is emptied, nightstands wiped down, and pill bottles reassembled – alphabetically – in the drawer. I know his routine, but Amber’s efforts humble me. I knew she would care for him. I never imagined she would also care for me.

  In a pair of plaid pajama pants, hanging low on his hips, Sal peers in at me. “Are you good?”

  I smile and wave from the comforting warmth. “Hungry?” Pinching my fingers together, I offer the signal for a tiny bit. “I’ll be back soon. Amber is staying with you.”

  “Have her come here,” I whisper with a glint in my eye. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  Seconds later, the gorgeous woman appears in his Juliet baseball jersey. It’s too big on her slight frame. Her auburn hair is pulled up into a ponytail. She is adorable. I hate her because she is healthy and love her because she is here.

  Spinning to face Sal, she rises on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on his cheek. I catch sight of her ass shielded under the lace fabric of pale pink panties. His thick arms envelop around her, and I realize how amazing they look together. I smirk.

  God, you have a splendid ass. No wonder he likes spanking you. You better be useful to him. You better take care of him. He is the Dark Prince, and you best respect him, bitch.

  “I’ll be back,” he says, pointing at me. “Be good.”

  “You want to get in?” I ask Amber.

  Her blue eyes sparkle on my invitation. “If you’ll have me.”

  I slowly shift to make room for her, but as she undresses, I make no effort to look away. I want to see what he sees and feel what he feels. I’d get erect around her, too. Her figure alone is a thing a sheer beauty with lovely sloping curves, accentuating a picture of an erotic hot mess.

  “Why did you choose me?”

  Sweeping my eyes over her as she sits across from me, I say, “Because I’d fuck you if I had a dick.”

  Her laughter booms through the room. “Fair enough.”

  The actual truth is I asked Sal when we were visiting my parents. We were tucked up in a spare bedroom. In the middle of the night, I whispered, “If you could have any girl, who would it be?”

  I figured his preferred answer would have been Iris Kettles, but she had an unattainable status and he knew it. I expected her name to fall from his lips, but he merely responded, “Lady Mae.”

  His relationship with the stripper started because of a suggestion made by none other than Mierne Risen at my encouragement. He was wondering Bourbon Street and avoiding me. He needed a good hit of a drug—sex. And Lady Mae had a reputation for being discreet.

  Amber Rosen, aka Lady Mae, had been Saint Cruz’s go-to ho for years, but I don’t think anyone foresaw the unmistakable love that would erupt between Sal and Amber. I always accepted the affair because she was right for his Dominant. I called her his practice slut, which I feel marginally guilty about now. But I can’t say I didn’t know because I encouraged it.

  Her hand drips as she tucks it under her chin and leans against the tub. “Do you have any advice?”

  Rubbing my damp hands over my face, I smirk. “In dealing with Salvatore?”

  Her eyes beg for my private notes. “Chase his ass. And don’t stop because he is swift.”

  A smile blooms across her face as she giggles almost demurely. “I’m not trying to take your place if I have stepped on any toes.”

  “I’m aware,” I say, brushing across her leg with my hand. “And you haven’t.”

  “I’m not returning after Christmas,” she says, frowning. “Sal wants me to stay with Dom. He maintains I will be safer there.”

  “I don’t know that I agree with that decision,” I respond as she wiggles closer to me. “You are safest under Sal’s protection because he is the one who cares about you the most. Logic says that.”

  “Logic also says you are trying to turn me on.”

  Under the bubbles, my hand slinks higher, running up between her thighs. Her skin is soft and pretty beneath my fingertips. “Would I do that?”

  “Yes, you would, Kaci,” she says with a low moan.

  Soothing my fingers further, I laugh, “Smart girl. He should keep you close.”

  “I’m hoping he does,” she says, spreading her legs. “Come and try it.”

  We sit in a silent standoff – his past of me and his future of her – as I assess where I want us to go. “Are you propositioning me for sex, whore?”

  Her full lips part, and her lashes flutter. “Yes, I am.”

  “You have no hesitations, do you?”

  “No,” she replies as her hand droops from her cheek to touch my fingers. �
��You felt amazing in my ass.”

  Thinking back on the botched scene, I sigh. “Yeah, things were going great for two out of three.”

  “Maybe we should eliminate three,” she jokes, teasingly.

  I like this girl way too much.

  “Would it get him out of my medical needs?” I rhetorically ask. “If it would, I’m all for it.”

  The tip of her tongue swooshed out over her lips as she glances away with a weakened resolve. “You need to remember how much he loves you.”

  “I’ve played him for a long time, Amber.”

  “I’m very well aware what you have done, Kaci,” she says, meeting my gaze with her own. “You have polished a throne for him to take the lead.”

  I lightly gasp at her acknowledgment of my scheme. “I need you to make sure he does it.”

  “He’s Sal. He has a crazy mind of his own sometimes. I cannot always control him.”

  I smirk and let it quickly fade to a severe candor. “But you do have some power over his decisions…”

  “It doesn’t mean he will listen to me though. He can be as relentless as a bull in a china cabinet. The only difference is he doesn’t just break the dishes to hear them shatter, but stomps them down to nothing but dust.”

  “Promise me,” I say, knowing what is on the line and the importance of what I am asking. “That you will care for him.”

  “You should just say guide him with my golden tunnel…”

  “That too,” I prod with a nudge of my foot to her crotch. “Use your resources and do not allow him to diminish what I have given him.”

  Her legs spread wide and she lifts her feet up on either edge. “You assume he wants your present of Iris.”

  “He doesn’t have a choice in the matter,” I slowly reply, rubbing my toes against her soft spots. “He needs the intel in her brain.”