“You need this lesson.”
“Now, we need to learn suture techniques. The key is you don’t want them too tight, but remember to be resourceful, especially out in the field. You can use lots of things. Get creative if you have to.”
“Well, if you care,” Kaci offers with a quick rise of her brow.
“First you teach me how to kill people,” I reply, irked. “And now, you teach me how to heal them.”
Kaci points out, “You already knew how to kill people. I just taught you how to do it better.”
“If you can irrigate, do so gently. If not, make the best with what you have,” Lars patiently says. “Slow. Steady. Calm. Breathe. Don’t panic. You can do this.”
Twenty minutes later, Kaci has a delicate row of individual stitches. Lars insists we learn running stitches as well. I practice on bananas, torturing them feels good.
Lars loads me up on survival techniques—what I can eat and drink, where to sleep, what I should hunt, what will kill me, what I can use, and with every lesson, he urges me to think outside of the box and get creative if I have to.
On our last day, I’m outside smoking, not because Lars and Hilda don’t allow smoking inside, but I need a moment away. I know how much Kaci has sacrificed. I understand what this trip cost her…
Her final time and last breaths.
And she gave her life—all of it—to me.
“We’re going out with Astrid!” Kaci flies out the door and wraps her arms around me.
“Astrid?”
“Their daughter! She is in the society and can get us into an exclusive club. Get dressed!”
“We’re going now?”
“Yes!” She excitedly flutters. “She will be here soon!”
“… Is that all there is to this?” I ask, philosophically.
“Did you expect complicated?” she mumbles. “The blood comes up easy, but the fallout is hard.”
“Where will you be?”
“I am always here… I built you for her…”
“How are we doing?” Dr. Jack Kerris asks from the doorway early on New Year’s Day. With my torso draped over the bed, I look up, surprised to see his casual attire.
“… God, you look like hell, Sal,” he mutters as I rush to his arms.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I say as my eyes well up. My mouth tastes like dried cotton as I rub over the scruffy beard on my cheeks. Wiping my eyes, I mumble with a rough, morning voice, “I haven’t slept much since Christmas.”
“I know, Kid,” he comfortingly replies. “We are okay. Let me check on her.” He lays his hand on her arm. “You need to take a break. Why not let the nurses take over?”
“No,” I mumble as the tears pour over my cheeks. I know she isn’t coming back. “She is my wife, and I will be here when she goes. I’m not leaving.”
He takes the stethoscope from his pocket, glances in my direction, and sighs as he hangs the tool of his trade around his neck. “It could be a bit…”
My jaw angles tightly. With my limited medical knowledge, I declare, “It won’t be.”
“How do you know?”
“On Christmas morning, she told me to have a beautiful 2011,” I confess in the darkened room. “She knew—it wouldn’t be long.”
He moves around the bed and lays his hand on my shoulder. “You want to see anyone?”
“Jaid and Karissa,” I softly say, knowing Kaci would want her two best friends by her side.
I lean back and contemplate my mishmash of thoughts. “I knew this would happen. I just didn’t expect it would be so soon. You know?”
“When was the last time she said anything?”
My cried-out eyes do not hesitate in producing more tears as I admit the facts, “Last night, but she hasn’t really moved or said anything since.”
“Try and relax. I’m going to make some phone calls and clear my schedule.”
That sounds like a damn good idea.
With her worsening condition, I try and call Amber. I sigh when she doesn’t answer. The chill in the room leads me to grab my hoodie before I try her again, but still, nothing. I check the surveillance feeds, and her room is empty.
“She promised to be home by now,” I grumble as I call Dom. Of course, he answers on the first fucking ring.
With my worn-out, exhausted voice, I ask, “Hey, have you seen Amber?”
“Yes.”
Silence permeates the air as the stillness on the line and in the room come to a head. I feel mine may explode due to stress. “Where is she?”
“Sal...” His intonation hints of something dire. “We will be there soon.”
“Wait, you cannot bring Amber here…” The mere idea of my mistress being here practically stops my heart. Frantic, my fists clench as I implore, “It’s too dangerous.”
“Sal,” he sharply interrupts. “She brought your Nonna for the funeral.”
“… What?”
“A truce has been called pending Kaci’s departure,” he says as sweat begins to pour from my body. “They have granted you seventy-two hours until the games resume.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I say, peeling off the damp jacket and pacing around the room. “… How?”
“Amber,” he rapidly answers. “She is a hell of a mediator. She went to Chicago and Boston to lay it down. She knew you would want your Nonna.”
I cry at how giving this woman is. I don’t deserve her; she is too good for me. “Is she there?”
“Nonna is resting in your room, and I’m in the library with Amber, but Sal…”
Oh. No.
“What?”
“She stopped in New York, too.”
Gripping my hair, I bow my head and close my eyes. “Why?”
“Sal,” Amber says, her voice trembling. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“What. Did. You. Do.” The anger spreads through my veins, but it's not only because of her. The entire situation has left me on edge and reeling with potential catastrophes waiting to occur.
“Nick Veramonte is dead.” My mouth opens, but words do not come out as the shuffle of the cards comes on sudden and unexpected. “Say something, please…”
“Since when did you go all renegade rogue, Amber-Get-Your-Gun?”
She giggles. “You cannot have your hands dirty. I can. But it was clean and swift. No worries. He’s in a bad part of town, and it looks like he went to bed with a bad hooker.”
“Oh! God!” I first yip out as I realize maybe it’s not as bad as I imagine. With Nick dead, no other son but me could possibly take on Raniero Fisheries. “No. Just a badass stripper.”
“So, you aren’t mad that I offed your cousin?”
Staring at Kaci, I snicker. “No, he attacked Jaid. But I need you here. Kaci isn’t doing well. She hasn’t woken up yet this morning.”
“I know, we are on our way soon,” she comfortingly says. “I’m going to get to you as fast as I fucking can.”
“Hey, Amber?”
“Yeah?”
Tears stream down my cheeks as I know Kaci isn’t coming back, and I no longer have her to pow-wow with. I can’t tell her Amber went crazy and killed Nick and I can’t ask her what to do next. I’m all out here on the ledge by myself, and I don’t know if I’m ready for what happens now. “I’m fucking scared…”
“I know you are honey, I’m coming,” she compassionately eases. “I promise I will be there soon. Dom is going to get Nonna up now. We’ll be on our way within the hour.”
“I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”
“Fuck,” she says, crying. “You’d have to eliminate me.”
“That’s never going to happen.” The phone fills with her sniffles, and I wish I could comfort her. “You’re my coach, my whore, my mistress…” I break down, and my knees hit the floor as I cry and pray. “My practice slut…”
“I love you, Mr. Raniero. Thank you for choosing me to be this for you.”
Pulling back the curtains, I scan the dar
k, gloomy clouds building overhead as I know we are just getting started. This isn’t over. Everything will change. It will all be new and strange and different. “You’re my girl.”
“Always.”
Forever.
On New Year’s Day 2011, I sit with the football games on the television. They’re muted as I hover over Kace’s lifeless body in a silent vigil. Hours pass. I don’t move. Doctors and nurses come in. I don’t run. Jaid and Karissa arrive. I don’t move. They leave for a bit. I cry. I beg.
She doesn’t move.
Around midday, I fall prey to the sandman and find slumber as I hold her close on the bed.
She doesn’t move.
And neither do I.
So, I dream.
“I’m excited you’re both here!” Astrid says. Her short, funky turquoise hair bops along with every word. She’s cute. Rumor is her hacking abilities could rival Georgia’s.
Kaci and Astrid are both dressed up in goth slut wear. They’re both tiny, little freaks and look darling. Kaci insisted I wear my best thug attire. I wanted to wear a nice intimidating suit, so we negotiated—ripped jeans, white dress shirt, sneakers, and ball cap—and I have a feeling this will become my new standard of attire for the rest of my days. I have my leather jacket with me, but Kaci was cold in the car, so she has it on.
The club is a reasonable distance from the main town and reminds me of The Downbelow. The sharp synth strike with a pulsing bass beat as the sea of bodies bounces to the rhythm.
“Come on,” Astrid yells, grabbing my hand.
The one distinct difference is the participants aren’t just into the traditional leather gear. These blasted Europeans play hard. From strict leather corsets to horse masks, everyone is dressed up.
Astrid manages to find us a table and pushes up to the bar to grab drinks. I’m awestruck. Never have I felt so out of place.
“Remember where you come from,” Kaci says with a wide smile. “And don’t forget who you are…”
“This ain’t Texas, babe,” I marvel, looking at the spectacle.
“It doesn’t need to be. You gotta expand your language, Raniero.”
“This vaguely sounds like another lesson.”
Kaci pulls a smoke from my pack and lights it up. I hate the idea of her smoking. Why? I’m not sure. Honestly, it doesn’t matter now, and I should just let her live it up. “Maybe because it is.”
“You taught boom and stitch and now…”
With a glimmer in her eyes, she says, “Fucking strangers.”
“I’ve fucked plenty of strangers,” I yell over the music.
“No,” she corrects, flicking the ashes in the metal tin. “Not after you have Dominated their ass, you haven’t…”
“I’m pretty sure most of these people would eat me alive.”
“Nah…”
“Pick a girl, any girl,” she says, tossing the keys to a dungeon on the table. Astrid returns with a dozen shots in tubes of some colorful liquid which will undoubtedly give me the courage to not only fuck a girl—easy part—but whip her ass red—far more complicated.
“Her…”
“That was fast,” Astrid says, who must have been privy to Kaci’s plan. She leans against my shoulder and says, “Which one?”
Kicking back a purple tube, I mention, “The blonde girl at the bar…”
They both stare and point, spotting the pretty, innocent Asian girl. Her curls drift along the edge of her ass as the open back of her flower covered dress accentuates all her attributes.
“And you question my decision about Iris!” Kaci swats at the bill of my hat as I duck and laugh. “Never again!”
I snarl, “What?”
“You, Raniero, are predictable,” Kaci states matter-of-factly.
“Are you saying I have a type?”
“Yes, Asian, voluptuous and curvy. Blue eyes get bonus points. And long hair earns cookies. Add in a hell of a rack, and you are toast.”
Astrid falls into a fit of hysterical laughter as we banter back and forth. “Are you two always so cute together?”
We both look at her and say, “Yes.”
“Fine,” I challenge, swigging another tube and grabbing the keys. “I’ll be back.”
“Mhmm,” Kaci says, watching me from the sidelines. “Have fun!”
I spin my hat on backward and hit the dance floor. I’m not going to hit on her. She’s going to hit on me. I find a group of guys—who speak very broken English—and we are hitting it hard, cranking out moves, and sweating our asses off.
By the third song, our little dance troupe is putting on quite a show. With a clearing in the middle of the ruckus, we find our groove and bring it. She’s on the sidelines, in the first row.
Fuck. She’s short. And cute. And smiling at me.
Do it now. Don’t fuck this up.
Shooting a brief glance to Kaci, I catch both the girls watching. Clearly, I’m their entertainment for the evening. Good thing this is what I do on a daily basis.
I rip off my shirt and head to the bar. I’ve got a tank top on, the muscles are glistening with sweat, and I’m thirsty as fuck. I get a double whiskey and a bottle of water as I feel a hand on my back.
“Sal?”
I furl my brow. “… Tai?”
To be honest, I hadn’t really looked at her face until now. “What the hell?” I pick her up in my arms, and she squeals as I see the girls plagued with a confused look of—how the hell did he do that?
The hug quickly turns into a lip-locked session. Kaci is in awe and Astrid is looking stumped. “I have a key.”
“Let’s go!” She boasts in my arms. I don’t put her down, carrying her through to the club to our dungeon room. Checking it out, I know the mirrored wall is a two-way glass, and I know who is going to be watching on the other side. I set her on the black leather covered bench, and she asks, “What the hell is Sal Raniero doing in Norway?”
“Long story.”
“You look good…”
“So do you,” I reply, pulling out a smoke and offering her one. “Did you finish law school?”
“Yes, I work here for a private consulting group.”
“Are you married?”
“Separated,” she says, “He was slightly older than me. Refined. Or so I thought. But he’s got issues—PTSD and being an asshole.”
I don’t want to laugh, but the way she says it brings up a chuckle. “Does he have a name?”
“Marshall,” she says, exhaling.
My eyes widen as I spit water and try not to choke. “Hope?”
“Yes.”
Bitch recruited Tai Kim to go after Marshall Hope, which means she had to be watching me when I was…sixteen.
Fuck.
The magnitude of my wife’s deception knows no bounds. “Can you take me to him?”
“Sure, he’s upstairs. But why?”
“I need to talk to him. Can you get me to him without going back through the club?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
I don’t know what I expected from Marshall, but there is no way in hell he is Kaci’s father unless he had her when he was a young teenager. He cannot be much older than Dom.
“Marshall, this is Sal,” Tai says, smiling. “He wants to talk to you.”
He stands up from behind the desk and shakes my hand. “Is the club yours?”
“Nah, I just run my business from here. I’ve been expecting you.”
“Can you help me understand all this?”
“Are you staying at the Hanson house?” He asks, and I nod. “Come on, let’s go.”
Rarely, do I ever get in a car with a complete stranger. It’s even rarer than having a scene with a stranger. We escape out the back, and I leave my wicked wife and Astrid behind.
An hour later, we are sitting at Lars and Hilda’s kitchen table eating sandwiches and drinking coffee. “Serene agreed to send me off for training at Sibyl if I would agree to be listed on the birth certificates. Earl wanted me out. I w
as a troubled teenager and easy pickings. Eventually, I got booted out for fighting too much, so I called Lars. He did my training, and I moved here, married Tai, and stayed low.”
“Who were you fighting at Sibyl?”
“The whole system. I was on the team that rescued Hennessey Bindel. She was there when her parents were murdered execution style. She saw the whole thing. I knew it wasn’t right. They were supposedly selling off secrets, so they hired a hitman.”
Lighting a smoke, I say, “An internal job?”
“At first it was, but the hitman was a member of Allegiance, but they just wanted the intel. They never imagined little fourteen-year-old Hennessey, who had been raised in the operation, would have the wherewithal to heist all the files herself. But that bitch did. And then she hid them all over the fucking world. I blew a gasket with the leader of our tactical unit, Canary. It was a huge fucking error on our part.”
I tilt my head curious. “Allegiance—the Russian mafia charter?”
“Yeah.”
“Who was the hitman?”
After eating a quarter of his sandwich and staring at me like a rabid dog, Marshall says, “What kind of guarantee do I have this isn’t coming back on us?”
“I’m Sal Raniero.”
He taps his fingers on the coffee mug. “Stanis.”
“What about Kaci’s mom, Jacqueline?”
His boisterous laughter fills the air as I glance at Lars and Hilda. “You’re asking the wrong question. You should be asking about Jacqueline’s family…”
Waking up suddenly, I gasp for air as it feels like an elephant is on my chest. The pieces finally fall into place as I blink at Kaci with the whole picture. “Holy fuck…”
It is a well-known fact, Cristos has a penchant for younger girls, but he was never involved with Jacqueline. It was Serene, and Cristos had her put in Sibyl for safekeeping after she gave birth to Kaci because he believes anything he touches—dies.
Yet, I just merged with the man.
“Kaci,” I whisper, shaking her slow. “Kaci, wake up. I have to tell you something.”
“Sal,” Jaid mutters, crying. “Sal, she’s gone.”
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 118
