by D. M. Burns
“It’s a well keep secret. My aunt and uncle own this place. Everything they cook is a recipe that came straight out of Italy.” Well, that explains why he stopped to hug the little old couple when we got here.
“Do you have a lot of family?” I ask and he shakes his head no.
“That’s all I have left, and I don’t broadcast that information, ever.” He nods his head toward the kitchen. “You’re the only person who knows about my aunt and uncle.” In other words, it better be something I take to my grave. I nod my understanding.
“Crellan, uhmmm. Well, do you know if anyone was hurt at my apartment building?” It comes out as more of a plea than a question.
That has been heavy on my heart ever since the big bang. I’m sure he can hear the distress in my voice. He studies me like I’m a foreign object that he can’t figure out.
“Only one person was hurt in the blast, but their injuries were minor.” He says.
I’m not sure if he’s telling the truth or simply lying to pacify me but it works. The tension leaves my body in a rush and I slump back into my chair.
“Do you know who’s responsible?” I ask. His cocky side smirk comes into play and he shakes his head no telling me that line of questioning won’t be entertained. “Mkay…” I make a popping sound with my mouth and look out into the dining area trying to find anything else to focus on other than his eyes.
“How long were you with the FBI, Lena?” I peer back at him and his expression is blank.
“Uhm, well… Right at four years. How long have you been with the mafia?” He shakes his head no, again. “Well, conversation with me is a give and receive type of transaction. So, if you’re not going to share then don’t expect me to either.”
“Fair enough. Normally, my interaction with cops is limited and it doesn’t involve conversation but that’s not the case anymore.” He shrugs his shoulders and adjusts his body in his seat. “To answer your question, I guess you could say that I was born into it.” He says. I quirk one of my eyebrows at that. I’m surprised that he’s bothering to entertain me at all. “Tell me something, Red.” My eyes turn into slits and he chuckles. “Is Rampage worth your career?”
“Yes,” I say that without hesitation because it’s true. He nods his head. “Honestly, I was growing tired of the Bureau.” I shrug.
“When was the last time you seen your director in person?” He asks.
“How’s that even relevant?” I ask.
“Entertain me, yeah?” He places his index finger against his temple studying me.
“Uhm, well it’s been about a year. I was stationed out in Las Vegas before this assignment was sent my way. But even before this assignment came about Slade’s partner approached me about redesigning Aces. That’s where my true passion lies. I’m damn good at it too.” I say.
“After seeing your skillful abilities at the Royal Diamond Club event, I can testify to that. You’re incredibly talented.” A compliment from this man is one well received. I have a feeling it’s not something he makes a habit of.
“By the way, thanks for the flowers. They were beautiful.” His stone expression changes to confusion and his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“I hate to tarnish your opinion of me, but I never sent flowers to you, Lena. I’m more of a show up in your space kind of man so there’s no confusion in my intentions.” My mouth makes a silent O shape and I can feel my cheeks turning scarlet. “I bet that made Mr. Carter’s night, huh?” He smirks deviously.
“You know, you two are a lot alike. He’s not much for showing emotion or sharing for that matter.” I wave my hand out.
“There’s nothing wrong with sparing those around you the burden of your dark demons. Some would even believe that to be an act of mercy.” This man honestly believes that.
“That’s a sad interpretation that you have. It’s my belief that if someone genuinely loves you then they’ll want to love every last part of you, including your dark side, Crellan.” I whisper.
“If you believe that then tell me, Lena, why are you here and not standing alongside Rampage? Why lie about who you are or was?” Whoa, he’s got me there.
“I really didn’t lie though if you think about it. I just never disclosed my assignment because honestly my career is in interior design.” I smile sweetly.
“Right.” He deadpans.
“Anyway, your place is gorgeous. I mean, I would hang some bomb ass pictures on those bare walls but other than that it’s fabulous.”
“Do you love your mother?” He asks. My eyes blink like clueless coins at the sudden conversation changeup and I’m a little confused too.
“Yes, of course.” I say.
“Then I think it’d benefit you more to stay with me, yeah? Seeing how random explosions and mysterious flowers are a thing for you here lately. Leading that to your mother’s front door is probably not the best idea. I have work to attend to so, it’s not like I’ll be there much. The choice is yours though.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Crellan, why are you helping me? I mean seriously, I was FBI. That usually carries a death sentence with you guys. Why am I still breathing?”
“It’s a rarity for me too. Don’t look too deep into it but I do know how you can return the favor though.” His smile is laced with evil intent. I have a feeling this is a bad idea but he’s right about distancing myself from my mother.
“How?”
“I’ll need a date to accompany me to a party in a few days. What do you say?”
“As long as it’s not at Aces and you’re not looking to get lucky then I don’t see why not.” He smiles and it really is a good look for him. “Hey, do you have a laptop I can borrow? I have some things that I need to see about.”
Some shady ass FBI agents to be precise but Crellan doesn’t need to know that. He nods at me while pushing back from the table, rifling through his pants pocket, and tossing out a few hundred-dollar bills on the table.
“Let’s go home, lovely Lena.” He holds his hand out and I don’t hesitate. Never in a million years did I see myself becoming friends with a mafia hitman but then again, this one right here saved my life.
chapter 30 – rampage
“Time for you to wake up, asshole.” I grab one of many leftover glasses off the nightstand and douse our fine FBI fanboy with the unknown contents. Director Adam Wallace comes rearing up out of the bed when the murky contents splash across his face.
“Damn, were you using that as an ashtray?” I ask when I see several, half-smoked soggy butts bounce off his forehead falling onto his rounded gut then tumble onto the white bedsheets. The smell makes one side of my mouth curl up in disgusted and I cover my nose. “This is a non-smoking floor, Director Wallace. I’m ashamed of your lack of control in following the rules.” I tsk.
“Holy shit… What the fuck?” He swipes his hands over his face trying to wipe away the nasty ass liquid ashtray coating his skin. His eyes widen when he sees my calm, composed, but stony expression staring back at him. I was the last person he expected to see tonight.
If I’m completely honest, I sat in Grandiers hotel parking deck contemplating how I wanted to handle this shitshow and the only conclusion I kept rounding back to was brutally. After Crellan shared his insider secrets, I decided to have a few eyes and ears keep a watch out on our little bureau brother in front of me. When I found out that he flew from his hometown in Texas to Georgia, I figured I’d welcome him to the peach state in person.
I never once thought my justified decisions from the past would come back to kick me in the ass but here the fuck we are. The asshole that was blackmailing me with dirt on my brother never received a second thought from me. There was never a background check or a completed Ancestry.com profile done for the fucker. I damn sure never thought about future brotherly blowback or backlash. I’ve learned the hard way to never let someone else handle my shit.
After Rebel left the mobster meet and greet, he reached out to his FBI contact where we discovere
d some surprising news. It seems that Director Adam Wallace is no longer actively employed. He was let go because of his continued probing into his brother’s death on the agency’s dime. He was warned to drop it and his resistance got him booted after eighteen years of service. It’s an unspoken truth that was my handywork. No one wants to fuck with the underground. Well, no one that likes living that is.
I’ve found myself feeling a certain type of way about this. I can sympathize with this guy. If someone hurt one of my brothers, I’d be an unstoppable force much like this fucker sitting in front of me. Then again, my actions were nothing more than a retort to protect my little brother. So, I guess we’re in the same boat, but I didn’t throw the first stone.
If Adam’s brothers hadn’t decided to stray from the moral code, he swore to uphold, we wouldn’t be at this impasse. Plus, there’s also the fact that someone blew up Rage’s house and almost took Reese’s Pieces out in the process.
Then someone blew Lena’s apartment all to hell. As bad as I hate to admit it, had it not been for Crellan, Lena would be dead right now. That alone has caused a menacingly evil little motherfucker to spark to life on the inside of me. She refuses to return my calls, answer my texts, and she hasn’t returned to Aces. My patience is losing its relevance.
For all the control I exude in the public eye, there’s also a deep dark demented side of chaos coupled with Ruthless Tendencies living in me. I’m trying to keep that side closed off and locked away. But that guy is always ready to Rampage the outside world down around me.
Since Lena left, I’ve lost the grip on my give a shit to contain it too. Bottom line, this fucker is not acting alone considering his ass just flew in from Texas. I need to know who our up and coming, newfound Unabomber is and why Lena was assigned to Aces in the first place.
Reaching behind me, I calmly pull the chair over and adjust myself down resting my ankle over my knee. Eyeballing the fucker, I swipe my tongue over my teeth then smile wide. Good ole Adam swallows and the motion of his Adam’s apple looks painful from where I’m sitting. He bounds up off the bed and my eyes follow his movement, but my only reaction is to mindlessly smooth my tie-down. There’s no need for quick movement, no.
“You’re not bound and gagged for a reason but that can change. If I get to that point there will be no need for talking, guaranteed. I’d like us to conduct ourselves like adults. So, please sit the fuck down, NOW.” I keep my voice composed but firm while pointing to the watered-down nicotine covered bed. “I’ll only ask once.”
I push my coat back on both sides showcasing the lethal steel that’s strapped to my ribs. My bodies made for fucking not fighting. I could easily battle it out like one of my brawling brothers but why? There are so many other creative ways to go about getting the results I want without fucking up my fashionable face or suits.
Old Adam’s eyes skim over my torso taking the hint that I’m not in a playful mood. He decides to slowly sink back down on the bed, smart guy. His eyes shift over to the nightstand where his gun is still laid out for the taking.
“That’s a mistake I wouldn’t make if I were you, Director Wallace but the choice is yours all the same. I’d advise against it, but you do you.” I chuckle and his eyes glide back to mine. “Should I simply refer to you as Adam now that you’re no longer with the FBI?” I tilt my head to the side and quirk a single eyebrow.
“Adam is fine.” His voice is shaky.
“Adam it is then.” I motion my hand in a flippant manner. “Tell me something, Adam…” He nods. “Why are you here in Georgia?”
“To find my brother.” He says. My brows scrunch up in confusion. Is this guy fucking with me? “Well, he’s my half-brother, we had different dads. Incidentally, he’s all I have left because you saw to it to take my baby brother, Lance.” His voice is thick with emotion and laced with an unfair amount of hostility.
“About that… Don’t you think that your anger is a little misplaced?” I deadpan. “That whole thing with your baby brother was unfortunate but necessary and a direct result of his own actions. Trying to extort money from me for some unsavory pictures didn’t work out quite like he would’ve hoped, that’s on him. I was protecting my little brother and I won’t apologize for that because it’d be a lie. I’d do it all over again without hesitation. Had your brother been a decent human being he wouldn’t have exited this world the way he did.” I shrug my shoulders. It’s only the truth.
“I’ll admit that Lance was being led in the wrong direction. He was young and impressionable. I was trying to get a handle on things, and he wouldn’t listen to me, but he didn’t deserve to die.” He drops his head and studies his hands. “He was a good kid before shit got twisted.” All of that might be true but there’s nothing I can do to change it.
“Why’d you reassign Lena Carter to Aces Down?” I ask.
“What? I have no clue what you’re talking about. What does any of this have to do with Agent Carter?” He’s genuinely shocked. “Oh fuck…” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “That wasn’t me, that’s my half-brother. He’s the reason why our little brother got off track and why I was fired. Once I found out that the hit on Lance came from the underground, I made the mistake of sharing that information with him. He rightfully blames himself and was posing as me and using my FBI credentials to get his hands on confidential intelligence.” I tilt my head studying him. I can tell that he’s not lying. I knew this guy looked familiar. Motherfucker…
“Do you have a wife, Adam?” I already know the answer to that, but I want to see if he lies. He nods his head yes. “Children?”
“My wife is eight months pregnant.” He wipes his forehead with his shaky wedding band hand.
“If you leave now and go back home this will be the end of our dealings. But if you choose to stick around and poke your nose in my shit, I’ll know, and I’ll come for you. If that happens, the next time we meet up I’ll send you for a reunion with your little brother, yeah?”
I hate to be brutal, but the sad fact is if he doesn’t leave Crellan will kill him. I’m the lesser of two evils. I’m giving him a chance to live his life. He nods his head.
“I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to this question but what the hell, I’ll give it a go. Who’s your half-brother?”
chapter 31 - lena
“Did you get things squared away?” Crellan asks. My brows pop up in question. “The work you mentioned the other night that required my laptop.”
“Oh yeah, sure. Thank you.”
Poking my nose into the FBI’s secured files gave me nothing that I didn’t already know but one thing. Director Wallace hasn’t been with the bureau for quite some time now. I did manage to delete all the collected data and documents stored on Aces Down. Someone has been feeding all kinds of information over and it wasn’t me.
Hell, I even deleted the bullshit-no matter how insignificant-the bureau had on Crellan. Something that could land me in prison for a long ass time. This guy has slinked his way into my friendzone. What can I say? The gangster criminal has grown on me.
None of this shit makes sense though. The mystery puzzle pieces are scattered about on the table; I just have not one damn clue where to place them. It’s a slow work in progress.
“Now, where are we going? And was the formal attire really necessary? I don’t feel right accepting this dress and jewelry that had to cost a small fortune. Had you told me; I could’ve gone shopping myself.” I fumble through my clutch trying to find my clear lip gloss so I can make the red lipstick pop out more.
When I got out of the shower Crellan had placed a shimmering white full-length silk gown with spaghetti straps on the bed in the room I’m currently bunking up at. The sleek material has a line of tiny delicate blood-red jewels running underneath my boobs. Of course, he purchased stilettos to synchronize the red vamp vibe along with a matching silk shawl.
Once I stepped off the last stair his eyes slid over my body as he sat in the middle of his r
ed murder scene couch. Crellan simply pointed in the direction of his kitchen and my eyes followed. I saw a black velvet box placed on the island and when I opened it, I found a ruby necklace with matching earrings. He never said a word and quite frankly I’m afraid to question him about it. Not that he’d tell me anyway but I’m fearful of the meaning behind such gifts.
My strawberry red hair is flat ironed straight and flowing freely down my back. The smokey eye presentation I spent an insane amount of time creating highlights my frosted blue eyes and my lipstick matches the red jeweled design of my dress plus shoes. I feel like the devil’s mistress and we’re making our first debut at the gates of hell.
Crellan’s hitman vibe and evil sex appeal make you eager to be on his naughty hitlist. His suit, less the restraint of a tie, is tailormade to his body and the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt are undone. He’s a beautifully built disaster.
His olive skin and coal-black hair is an eye-catching assault. And once those dark eyes fixate on you, they draw you in like a lamb to the slaughterhouse. It leaves me wondering if there’s any happiness behind those tortured tomes of death delivered. If my heart didn’t belong to Slade, I’m sure I’d be curious about the cryptic creature that is Crellan.
“Yes, the wardrobe is required for where we’re going. And since you’re accompanying me tonight; the expense is my responsibility as well as my pleasure.” His voice is cold, and he doesn’t take his eyes off the road ahead, but I see his half-smirk.
His white dress sleeves are rolled back, and I spy his masculine forearm and large hand gripping the clutch as he shifts gears as well as his coordinating footwork. He’s effortlessly multitasking like a pro. I turn my attention back to the passenger visor and slick my lips up then toss my gloss back in my clutch.
