Devil’s Deal (Love & Loyalty: Prequel)

Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

ROMEO

“Whatcha want to do today?” Rocco asked as soon as he closed the door.

“I’m done waiting. I’ve got the address for the PI that’s been giving Cory the runaround.”

He smirked. “That’s what I’m talking about. Let’s find this fucker.”

I held in a sigh. That was exactly what I wanted to do, but Rocco’s zealousness toward violence was concerning. As we drove through the city, he entertained himself with the sound of his own voice while I worked through my next moves. I needed to get my boy some answers.

The GPS led us to a residential community of small two and three-bedroom houses. I parked in the driveway of the listed address and turned off the vehicle. “This is it.”

“No covert mission this time, hey, Romeo?”

I shook my head. “Nah. Cory’s paying this guy a lot of money. I want answers.”

We exited the car and were halfway to the door when an elderly woman called out, “Hello,” from over the hedges that separated this property from hers. “No one lives there.”

Squashing down my aggravation, I removed my sunglasses and walked into the yard toward her. “My friend Paul lives here.”

She shook her head. “Sorry. He moved out a while ago. You can try calling him, but last I heard, he got some new big-time client and said he was moving on to bigger things.”

I stopped on the other side of the bushes, peppering her with questions, but she hadn’t really known Paul—just a nosy neighbor. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Rocco was off doing some exploring, so I kept her distracted, asking questions about the neighborhood, letting her regal me of stories of her grandchildren’s last visit, and ending on the weather by the time Rocco re-appeared at my side.

He gave her a charming smile, then glanced at the watch on his wrist. “If Paul’s not here, we better get going.”

“You’re right. Sorry for bothering you.”

She waved that off. “Are you kidding? It’s not every day I get to stand around and bullshit with two handsome fellas in my own front yard.”

Her use of the word fellas immediately made me think of Cory, and my anger rose. I’d known in my gut that this PI was a fraud—taking advantage of my boy. Stealing his money and giving him false hope. What if I hadn’t come along? How long would Cory have continued to pay his exorbitant prices, fooling himself into believing that Paul, the PI, was really searching for Emilio?

“She’s right,” Rocco said in a low voice as soon as we were back in the privacy of our ride. “The place is cleaned out. Not even a spare receipt on the floor.”

“Dammit.” Pulling out my phone, I called Tracker and put the phone to my ear.

“I was about to call you,” was how he greeted me. “I found him.”

“Paul?”

“Paul who? Oh, the PI? Forget him. I found the kid.”

The world stilled around me. “Explain.”

“Well, shit,” I muttered when he was done.

“Mhm. Those Pasinis are some bad dudes all the way around. A look at their bank accounts makes it clear who knows what, too.”

“And you’re sure it’s this Machesi? Frederic was sure he was clean.”

He huffed. “I got pictures of the kid out in the backyard getting some fresh air. I’ve been watching for a couple of days. I didn’t want to get your hopes up for no reason. This is the place.”

I didn’t know how he did what he did, and I didn’t much care. Tracker got me results. “Alright, let me make some calls.”

“You got it. I’ll forward you the email, along with the other information I have. Let me know when it’s a go, and I’ll make sure you have access to the house they’re holding him in.”

I hung up and turned to Rocco. “Well?” he demanded.

“You up for a rescue mission?”

He rubbed his hands together. “Do I get to shoot people?”

“You bet your ass.”

Of all the things I ever expected to argue with Cory about, this wasn’t one of them. He crossed his arms over his chest, jutting his chin up stubbornly. “Daddy, I’m going. He’s my nephew.”

“Boy, don’t you understand?” I asked, twining our fingers together.

“Yeah, I get it, but I’m going. What if he’s hurt? Scared? He doesn’t know any of you.”

“I mean, he does know his father, right?” Dante asked from the table.

Cory growled in frustration. “You”—he jabbed me in the chest with one finger—“wouldn’t have even been looking into this if it wasn’t for me. He’s my nephew, and I’m going.”

“We do have a balaclava he can wear,” Dante added, unhelpfully. I was gonna kick his ass when this was over.

“What’s that?” Cory asked.

Throwing up my hands, I said, “This proves my whole point. You don’t belong anywhere near this.”

“It’s the gangster ski mask,” Dante whispered.

Cory looked intrigued, and I headed for the bathroom before I lost my shit. This was a complete disaster. This wasn’t how I did things. I was a planner…meticulous. I didn’t get information and run with it the same day. Yeah, I knew it had to be this way this time. Now that Tracker had hunted down Emilio, Cory would’ve lost his mind if we waited.

But it wasn’t just that. It was how fast Rocco took off for home to get his favorite gun. It was Frederic heading straight to the property without backup to wait for us. It was how agitated I was that Dante wouldn’t be at the hotel tonight, keeping an eye on Harlow and Charity. Which was ridiculous when I hadn’t wanted him stationed here in the first place. Most of all, it was Cory being unreasonable and insisting that he was coming.

My phone buzzed with a text.

Nico: Have fun tonight. It sucks that I can’t make it to the party, but I know that you and my brother will have fun. Make sure he doesn’t drink too much.

I snorted. Personally, I didn’t care how much he drank, a.k.a. how many people he killed, but I worried that I’d catch him bathing in the blood of his enemies. Good God, Cory didn’t need to see how much Rocco enjoyed eliminating the bad guys .

Dante banged against the bathroom door. “Come on, Romeo. Cory and I are ready.”

I came out and stopped short at the sight of my boy in black jeans, a plain black Henley, and black boots. He looked like any other guy going on a covert mission. He looked ridiculous.

I plucked the keys out of Dante’s hand. “I’ll drive.”

Cory sat sullenly in the passenger seat while we picked up Rocco and all the way to our destination. Instead of trying to make him feel better, I left him to stew in his anger toward me. Better that than him fretting about what tonight would bring.

We had no idea if Emilio would be fine or not. Had they gotten him hooked on drugs? Had they been using him as a slave or a prostitute? Until we had him, we wouldn’t know the answers to any of those questions. Cory would weather any storm, but I hoped he was prepared.

Half a mile from the house in the woods, I turned off my lights and rolled up next to Frederic’s car right outside the line of sight for the windows.

“Is that him? The Penis soldier?” Rocco asked.

“Pasini,” Dante and I said at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah. I want to meet him.” He hopped out of the vehicle.

I felt like I had no control. As Cory grabbed the balaclava that Dante held out to him, I realized it was because I didn’t. “You stay in the car.”

Cory glared at me. “Fine, but can’t I just get out to say?—”

“No, boy,” I said, cutting him off. “It’s dangerous enough that you’re here. Stay in the vehicle and lock the doors.”

“You’re being a bad Daddy,” he muttered under his breath.

In other circumstances, like if I wasn’t terrified of something happening to him, I would’ve laughed. As soon as I got out, Frederic headed over to me. “I can’t believe it’s my Capo. How didn’t I know? Marchesi’s been so…normal.”

I gripped his shoulder and squeezed tight. “Because he didn’t want you to. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“That’s fucked up, man,” Rocco said. “It’s one of those keeping your enemy closer kind of situations. Here you’re thinking you’re being a good soldier. One of his men, and bam. He’s only keeping you close enough to plunge the knife into your flesh. Your soul, man.”

For fuck’s sake. If the words weren’t dramatic enough, his gleeful delivery was completely inappropriate.

“I get that. What I don’t understand is why I’m his enemy. My old Capo, the one who screwed my wife, him I would’ve understood. But Marchesi…” Frederic shook his head.

Impatiently, I took over the conversation. “No time to worry about that now. Tracker got security footage, and there should only be a few guards around. Let’s get in and out, you understand?”

Frederic and Dante, both being good soldiers, nodded. Rocco cackled, the sound both low and evil. “No problem. I don’t even need help to take three fuckers holding innocents out. An eye for an eye and all that, am I right?”

“Rocco, keep your head. If you end up dead, I’m gonna revive your ass and kill you myself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He said whatever now, but Nico would try to end me if anything happened to his kid brother. Since I had a boy to live for, that would force me to do something I’d rather not do, like hurt a Buccelli. How did my damn life get so complicated?

On silent feet, we made our way to the back of the house where there were stairs down to the bottom floor. I had no idea how he did it or where he got his information, but Tracker had turned off any alarms for the building as soon as I told him we were on our way. When I asked how he could be sure it would work, all he said was, People rely too much on remote shit . Like I had any idea what that meant.

As luck would have it, the door was triple-bolted from the outside. Sick fuckers. I guess they never figured on anyone trying to release the captives they had on the inside. I quickly unlatched them all and picked the lock on the knob, turning it.

There was one young man sitting in a chair behind a sewing machine. He looked up as I entered, and his eyes widened.

“Is there anyone down here with you?” I whispered.

He shook his head. Stepping all the way inside, I motioned Frederic through, leaving Dante and Rocco outside, armed and ready to kick ass if necessary. Our Pasini ally went through, the kid scrambled out of his chair, almost knocking the machine off the table to get to his father.

“Dad.”

As sweet as this was, we had no time for a reunion. If we could get out of here without anyone seeing us, that would be ideal. “Come on. You have any shoes?” I asked Emilio, noticing for the first time that he had on nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and a ratty old T-shirt.

“Yeah,” he whispered, running for the other side of the room. A quick glance around showed six single beds with handcuffs on the headboards. Maybe I did want to run into somebody that we could kill. This was fucked up.

“Is there anyone else with you? Anyone else we need to get out of here?” I asked.

He shook his head. “There’s supposed to be new girls in a few days. The last group was moved about a month ago.”

There’d be time to ask him questions later, once he was out of here and had a chance to breathe. Frederic grabbed his son’s hand, and we were heading for the door when I heard the first shot. “Frederic, you take him and get him and Cory out of here.”

“Uncle Cory?” Emilio asked, his shock at a rescue fading to fear that we wouldn’t get out of here.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let me go out first.”

As I got outside, Rocco yelled, “And that’s three!”

“Come on,” I urged in a harsh whisper. With Dante ahead of us, Frederic and Rocco ran with Emilio in the middle of them, and I brought up the rear, checking every which way for movement.

No one followed us, and I was just thanking all the gods in the universe when our vehicles came into sight. A round man in a suit, standing a whole head shorter than Cory, was using him as a body shield with a gun to his head. Dammit. This was why I hadn’t wanted to bring him. It was exactly what I’d been afraid of.

My boy looked scared, pissed, and full of awe at seeing his nephew. How he managed to convey so many emotions was beyond me, but it was all there on his face.

Frederic pushed his son behind him and stepped forward. “I can’t believe you. My son?! How could you take my son?” he raged.

Ah. This must be the Capo . The swarmy man spit on the ground. “Your son. You’re not good enough for him. He’s mine! He was supposed to be mine!”

I didn’t stay around to listen to this bullshit drama. Nico had wanted to find a way for us to question someone, anyone, but Rocco and Dante had effectively taken that off the table. Grabbing the Capo would’ve been even better, but he’d fucked up. He’d taken my man. My boy. My quirky Cory, who trusted me to keep him safe and whole.

Since the two members of the Pasini Family were totally focused on each other, I fell back into the shadows, moving down the tree line. My focus went laser-sharp as my breath evened out, and that familiar feeling of low boiling rage consumed me. The narcissistic idiot was in the middle of some diatribe as I came up behind him, pulling my trusty girl out of her sheath and did what I did best.

The satisfying feel of skin slicing vibrated through my hand and up my arm as the Pasini Family went down a Capo, and Cory fell into my arms. I’d never wanted any of this to touch him. Not the Families, him having to witness me committing another murder, and the presence of more blood. So much blood. But I’d always do whatever needed to be done—unapologetically.

He might need therapy. So would Emilio. But that was a tomorrow problem. For tonight, it was time to beat a path off this property and go home. Frederic hunched down by his dead Capo and began going through his pockets.

Glancing over my shoulder, I was surprised to find Rocco embracing Emilio gently, rocking him from side to side and whispering into his ear. Aw. See. He could be nice.