In the Crossfire

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In the Crossfire Page 1

by L. P. Dover




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Note from the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Author Bio

  Other Titles by L.P. Dover

  Sneak Peek of Dangerous Game

  IN THE CROSSFIRE

  (A Circle of Justice Novel)

  BY:

  L.P. DOVER

  Copyright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written consent from the author.

  In the Crossfire: A Circle of Justice Novel

  L.P. Dover

  Copyright 2019 by L.P. Dover

  Smashwords Edition

  Edited by: Librum Artis Editorial Services

  Cover Designed by: Regina Wamba

  Cover Photo taken by: Sara Eirew

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  This one’s for my dad. When I first started writing this book, he was diagnosed with Stage 4 Esophagus cancer that had spread to other organs in his body. I witnessed his struggle with chemo treatments, and everything that went along with it. And let me tell you, he’s a FIGHTER. I don’t know what the end game will be, but I do know he’s not giving up, and that gives me the courage to do the same.

  I love you, Dad.

  Note from the Author

  Hi Readers!

  Whether you’re new or hardcore readers of my Circle of Justice series, I thought I’d give you a little insight. You can read them as standalones in whatever order you want, but if you happen to have read Aim, involving Bryce’s twin brother, Ian, you will see a couple of familiar scenes, only this time they’ll be in Bryce’s point of view instead of Ian’s. In the Crossfire takes place during part of the same time frame as Aim, but also before and after. (Hopefully, that’s not confusing.) Bryce had such an intricate backstory in Aim that I had to make sure to show what all has been happening behind the scenes with him. With that being said, this book takes place over a year and a half. That’s a lot to put in a book, so you’ll see where I had to skip ahead a few months just to keep up with the timeline. In the end, it all comes together with the whole series.

  Enjoy!

  L.P. Dover

  Chapter One

  Bryce

  Blood.

  I was accustomed to the smell, and the way it ran dark on the ground after a kill. It was satisfying to see the life fade out of the eyes of someone who deserved to die. My mark tonight was Brock Trainor, a serial rapist who escaped conviction because of his piece of shit father who had the money to pay off anyone and everyone involved. If I could add that cocksucker to the list, I would—in a fucking heartbeat.

  Holstering my gun, I buttoned my suit jacket to hide it from view. The alley was rank with the smell of piss and shit, mainly from Brock’s lifeless body mixed with the August summer heat. Brock cried like a fucking baby when he realized death had come for him. There was no remorse in those soulless eyes of his when I pulled the trigger—only fear. He was never going to hurt anyone else again.

  It just so happened he was in New York, visiting some of his old fraternity brothers. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to knock him off the list. Turning on my heel, I walked out of the alley to the dark streets of Brooklyn. There were people here and there, but they kept to themselves. No one ever bothered me when I roamed the streets.

  There were so many people on the list here in New York that there was always something to do. Unfortunately, the one target I needed to hit was the one I couldn’t get close to. No one from the Circle of Justice had gotten inside the Corsinos’ domain and lived to tell the tale. It was dangerous territory. My brothers thought I was fucked up in the head for taking on the mission by myself, but I knew there was no other way. Someone had to do it, and luckily, my name had already reached the infamous Anthony Corsino’s ears. His men followed me on occasion, but they haven’t approached me…yet.

  I’d been living undercover in New York for three months under the name of Bryce Collman. The name was going to get me on the inside; I was sure of it. I’d researched every member of Corsino’s main inner group, every detail about them, and found a connection to the Collman family from many years ago. The Collman clan had dispersed and moved to Canada, never be heard from again. The FBI was able to track down the existing members, and all that was left from the original mafia ties was a man named Danny Holton, who lived in a nursing home, ravaged by dementia, and his son, who owned a wood-carving shop on Prince Edward Island. From the timeline on my files, Danny’s son was too young at the time the Collmans moved to Canada to know anything of their family’s past, and still didn’t. He was married, with three little girls, and had never been out of Canada since his family moved there. However, the Collmans ruthlessness in the mafia world was widely known, and I was going to use it to my advantage.

  The sound of jazz echoed up ahead, along with the drunken laughs of Brooklyn’s Saturday-night partygoers. My twin brother, Ian, and I used to go out on the town all the time in our early twenties, before we joined the Circle of Justice. Those days seemed like a distant memory.

  I turned the corner and saw a group of people sitting outside on the back patio of the large, brick building, drinking and having a good time. From the inside, I could hear a haunting piano melody, the sound drawing me closer. I walked in and went straight to the bar. There was an open seat at the corner, right beside two men who were probably a couple years younger than me, both dressed in skintight sweaters, trying their best to hit on the women next to them to no avail. It was obvious the women wanted nothing to do with them.

  When I walked up, the guy in the gray sweater tensed and his smile faded when he got a good look at me. I rested my elbow on the bar, allowing my suit jacket to slide open so he could see my gun. His friend eyed me, and they casually took their drinks and walked away.

  The women watched the men walk away, and the one closest to me breathed a sigh of relief. There was no denying how sexy she was,
in a low-cut red dress and heels, with her dark brown hair hanging down her back.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, gently placing a hand over her chest. “I think you scared them away. They wouldn’t leave us alone.”

  I looked back at the men, who had already moved on to hounding other women. “Glad I could help.”

  “If you want, you can join me and my friend tonight? I’m sure we can figure out a way to show you our appreciation.” I turned my attention to the woman and her friend. The thought would definitely make my cock happy. However, at that moment, there was something else that caught my attention. Someone was watching me…I could feel it. Turning away from the women, I slowly scanned the club.

  “Sorry, ladies. Not tonight.” Their disgruntled sighs didn’t go unheard, and they snatched up their drinks and hurried off, their heels clacking against the floor. I searched the crowd again, and that was when I recognized Marco Corsino, the brother and right hand of the mob leader I was searching for, staring right at me. Hardening my gaze, I stared right back.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender called out, his voice a little on the feminine side. I turned away from Marco and looked at him. He had long, light brown hair that he had pulled back in a low ponytail. If it wasn’t for the facial hair, I would’ve thought he was a female.

  “Whiskey. Make it a double,” I said, turning my attention back to Marco.

  He laughed. “Rough night?”

  I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Not yet, but I have a feeling it will be.” When I tried to find Marco again, he was gone, or at least left my line of sight.

  *

  I’d been followed before by Corsino’s men, but something about tonight felt different. I knew they were behind me the whole cab ride back to my apartment. They had no beef with me, so I knew I wasn’t on their hit list, but my recent kills were surely going to catch their attention. It just so happened that some of their enemies were also targets on the Circle of Justice’s list. Killing their enemies made their jobs easier. I knew it would draw their interest.

  Once in my apartment, I kept the lights off and draped my suit jacket over the kitchen bar. My apartment was one of the priciest in SoHo. When you entered, the kitchen was to your left while the living room was to your right, where I had my black leather couch and chair and big-screen TV. Past the living room there was a hallway that led to my bedroom. If I was ever going to gain Anthony Corsino’s attention, he had to see I came from money. That was the way it worked with people like him. He wasn’t going to let some lowlife gutter rat into his ranks. I’d traded in my usual jeans and cowboy boots for expensive three-piece suits.

  Manhattan was completely different from my hometown in Wyoming, but I was getting used to it. One thing I missed most about my home was my brothers, and the vastness of the land. It wasn’t dirty and crowded like the big city.

  I walked over to the windows and peered out at the bustling city below. It’d been a week since I’d talked to my twin brother, so I pulled out my phone and waited for him to answer. I had two other brothers in addition to Ian, but I was closest to him. My oldest brother, Wade, was married to the former first daughter of the United States, and my youngest brother, Reed, still lived in Wyoming at my and Ian’s ranch. We were all FBI agents and assassins, including our father, who was now retired.

  “Hey, cocksucker,” Ian answered. “Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

  I watched the people moving about on the streets. “Been busy.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I see you knocked off Brock tonight. Good job.”

  “I happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Soon they’d find his body in the dank alley where he belonged. Brock lived in Minnesota, but he fucked up by coming to New York. I couldn’t pass up the chance to give him what he deserved.

  “Have you gotten any closer to getting in with Corsino?” Ian asked.

  I walked over to my desk, flipping open my laptop as I sat down. “They’re following me more openly now. Marco was at the club watching me tonight, and then I noticed one of their black sedans behind my cab as I was coming to the apartment.”

  “Hmm…interesting. Are you still pretending you don’t know they’re there?”

  Once my laptop was booted up, I typed in my government security code. “Not anymore,” I replied. “Marco knows I’m onto them.” The screen came to life with different video feeds. Before Corsino’s men started following me, I had cameras strategically placed all over my apartment building. That way, I could see when trouble was coming. So far, so good.

  Ian sighed. “When do you think they’ll make their move?”

  It just so happened that one of the camera feeds showed a black sedan pulling into the parking deck through one of the cameras. “Looks like now, brother.”

  “Fuck, are you serious?”

  Marco and two other men walked inside the apartment building and got in the elevator. “Yep. They’ll be at my door in less than a minute.” I slammed my laptop shut and hurried to grab my suit jacket off the kitchen chair.

  “Be safe,” Ian said. “These men are powerful.”

  A deep, thunderous knock sounded on the door. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow. “So are we.” I hung up the phone and shrugged into my jacket. Anthony Corsino and his men might be powerful, but I wasn’t afraid of them.

  Another knock blasted on the door, and I swung it open. Marco stood there, dressed in his custom-fit gray suit with his polished gun shining right at me from his holster. He was in his early fifties, with a bald head and a scar right above his left eye. I was a little over six feet tall, but Marco was a couple inches taller than me, and with a lot more weight. From the file I had on him, he’d played football up until college. He could’ve gone pro, but he chose the mafia life instead.

  Marco puffed out his chest and sized me up. “Bryce Collman?”

  I stared right back, refusing to be intimidated. “Yeah.”

  He took a step away from the door. “My brother would like a word with you.”

  “And who the fuck is that?” I asked.

  Marco’s gaze narrowed. “We both know you already know the answer to that.”

  We stared each other down, but I didn’t get any indication that he meant me any harm. I was about to go into the lion’s den alone. I had to be on my guard. “What exactly are your orders?” I said, making sure to sound disinterested. “Maybe I don’t give a flying fuck about talking to your brother.”

  Marco’s lips tilted slightly, clearly amused. “That’s your choice, but I was told to bring you safely to him. My men and I aren’t here to cause any trouble. All my brother wants is to ask you a few questions, and then you’re free to go.”

  It was stupid to believe anything that came out of his mouth, but it was my chance to finally meet Anthony Corsino. I had to take it.

  “Fine,” I huffed. “Let’s go.”

  I stepped out the door, and the other two men came into view. I knew exactly who they were. They were Anthony’s cousins, James and Roger Corsino. Identical twins, with salt and pepper hair and a permanent scowl. Both around their mid-fifties, they were smaller than me as far as build, but they were responsible for some of Anthony’s most heinous crimes, one being a bomb they planted in a restaurant that killed not only their enemy and their family but a slew of innocents as well. It was in the news as a terrorist attack, and not a vendetta between two mafia families. James and Roger have been on the Circle of Justice’s list for over a decade for their experience in making weapons of mass destruction and selling them. Before my time was done, I was going to kill them.

  Holding out his hand, Marco’s gaze shifted to my jacket and then right back to my face. “Before we go, I’ll need your gun.”

  Without hesitation, I pulled it out of my holster and handed it to him. He flourished a hand toward the hall so I followed James and Roger to the elevator while Marco walked behind me. There was no turning back.

  Chapter Two
<
br />   Bryce

  There were two black sedans in the parking deck. James and Roger got into the back of one while Marco and I hopped into the other one. There was a driver for both vehicles, but I knew them to not have any ties to the mafia other than driving them around. For the past three months, all I’d done was research anyone and everyone associated with the Corsinos.

  Once Marco was situated across from me, he tapped the privacy window, and we were on our way. “Where exactly are we going?” I asked.

  Marco spread his arms across the back of the seat. “The Chateaux Hotel.” I knew Anthony Corsino owned a lot of hotels in Manhattan, so that didn’t surprise me. Marco stared at me curiously, as if he had his own questions he wanted to ask, but he held back. My guess was that Anthony wanted to be the one to ask them all. Unfortunately, it was going to be difficult to make my move with all of his cronies around.

  The driver pulled up to the front of the hotel and got out to open the door. Marco exited first, and I followed him inside the lobby, with Roger and James at my back. They moved with formality, like clockwork, but I knew what kind of monsters lay within all too well. Hell, I’d killed more people than they have. We were all fucked in the head, but they didn’t know what kind of man they were letting inside their ranks. I was going to end them or die trying.

  Marco swiped a card through a reader on the gate which gave us access to a private elevator. Once inside, it took us straight to the top floor. When the doors opened, there was a single long hallway with gold carpets and walls, with two separate penthouses. We passed the princess suite and went down to the presidential suite at the far end of the hall. Marco opened the door, and one of Anthony’s bodyguards, Isaiah Burns, stood outside of what had to be Anthony’s study. The other bodyguard Anthony used wasn’t anywhere in sight. Just like Marco, Isaiah was fucking huge. A simple kick to the back of the knee would take him down in a heartbeat, though. I’d killed dozens of men just like them.

  There were two other men in the Corsino family I hadn’t seen yet: Dominic and Michael. Michael was Anthony’s brother, who was about a year younger than Marco. Through my research, I knew he was the one who watched over Anthony’s twenty-eight-year-old daughter, Layla. All the pictures I had of her, he was somewhere close by. She was a lawyer, and no doubt at the Corsinos’ disposal if she was ever needed in court.

 

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