Nico
Waking up to a pounding headache is not how I intended to start my day. When I got back to the city, it was still dark and my apartment was too quiet, too cold, and too…empty. I went straight for the whiskey, and didn’t stop drinking until I passed out. Which, of course, is what I wanted. I didn’t want to have any dreams. I wanted to give my brain a break from all things Cassandra Connelly.
But now that I’m awake, of course she’s my first and only thought.
Reaching for my phone, I see I have a text from Rocco.
Rocco:She just left with her brother. Should I follow them?
He texted that a few hours ago, so I call him.
“Hey.”
“Did you follow her?” I ask, my voice rough. Jesus, I need some water.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I never received a reply and wasn’t sure you still wanted me on her after last night.”
“Your job isn’t to assume anything. I put you on her to protect her. Anywhere she goes from now on, you follow her. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Is she back yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Let me know when she is.”
“Will do.”
I hang up and rub my eyes. Turning my head, I see my clock and groan. Shit, I slept until the damned afternoon.
I call Stefano next. “Hey, Nico, what’s up?”
“I’m back in the city, and I need you to check on something.”
“You’re back? I thought–”
“We’re not talking about this, Stef. I need you to look at Cassie’s financials again and tell me if she withdrew all her money yet.”
There’s only one reason I can think of for them to leave together. With the way he still looks, he’d scare people if he left the house for anything other than a necessity.
“Okay, just give me a few minutes.” I wait for him to do his thing, and then he tells me, “Yeah, she transferred it earlier this afternoon.”
“Okay,” I croak, then clear my throat. She went with her brother to make a payment today. I should’ve been awake to tell Rocco to follow her. I should’ve been with her when she went. Her brother clearly can’t protect himself. How is he going to protect Cassie? “Can you find out where the McLaughlins operate out of?”
It takes him only a minute to find the answer. “Lucky’s Pub in Woodlawn Heights.”
“Thanks, Stef.”
“Any time, man.”
Dragging my ass out of bed, I order food and then take a cold shower to wake myself up. I need to blend in, so I dress casually in black jeans and a black t-shirt.
As I’m lacing up my black boots, I get a notification on my phone that my food was dropped off by security outside my door.
I scarf down the chicken club sandwich and chips, and wash it down with a bottle of water and three aspirin before heading out.
Our building in Manhattan is one we use for everything. The upper three quarters are apartments for the family, and the remaining are offices and conference rooms.
The basement is the same as we have in The Aces, in that there is a whole other world you step into that’s not on any city records or accessible by anyone who isn’t in the family.
There’s a gym, boxing ring, a conference room for our more delicate business conversations to ensure privacy, a fully stocked arsenal of weapons, and a hall of cells to hold anyone when we need to.
Our security is top notch, and to go anywhere in the building, you need your own code, your finger print, and retinal scan. That way we know who is going where at all times, and no one can just walk in and travel from floor to floor.
I make my way down to the garage and choose a more discreet car than the one I came back from AC in.
I drive to the Bronx, and once I get to the Woodlawn Heights neighborhood, my eyes sweep the streets for any sign of Cassie. Lucky’s Pub is coming up on the right, and I drive by slowly, but I can’t see anything through the windows’ tint.
I don’t think anyone here will know my face, so I drive around until I find a parking spot and walk back to the pub. Whether she’s still here or not, I could use a drink to settle the raging headache I’m still saddled with.
Pushing the door open, my eyes sweep the inside straight away to assess the threat level. Three at the bar, a few couples in the booths, and a table of four guys.
No Cassie or Sean.
I slide up to the bar. “What can I get for you?” the bartender asks.
“Whiskey. Neat.”
My eyes continuously scan the bar, and only the eyes of the four guys at the table make their way over to me. I sit and nurse my drink for a few minutes, and then knock back the rest when I get a message from Rocco.
Rocco:She came back alone.
I leave a twenty on the bar and head out.
I close my eyes and lift my face to the sky.
She got out of here alive. She’s safe.
I don’t know if her brother had a different fate, though, if she returned alone. She sure as hell isn’t going to tell me anything after the shit I said to her last night.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
I typed that shit without thinking and pressed send before I knew what I was doing. I let my anger get the better of me, and I wish I could take it all back.
I hate that she lied to me, and I hate that she’s still dancing, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to degrade her like that.
Whether she wants to admit it or not, she needs me. She needs someone to be on her side when everything she thinks she knows about her life turns out to be a lie.
Me:Let me know if she leaves again. You’re going to follow her everywhere.
Rocco:Understood.
I go back to my apartment and pack a bag. A larger one than before. I’m going to stay in Atlantic City as long as it takes. I’m going to be there for her no matter what like I told her I would be. I wasn’t ready to be done with her after our weekend together, and I sure as hell am not done with her now.