Fierce Monarch (Gilded Empire Book 3)

Chapter 25 – Dominic

Despite the family I’d grown up in, I’d never been to jail. Not beyond a holding cell anyway. The fact that the Seattle PD got me booked and changed into the fucking red uniform before Mari got me out was wild. I didn’t mind, though. I was fuming mad and ready to take that shit out on anyone who came my way.

Cash set my girl up to die. There was no doubt about it. He wanted Mari in here, away from all the protection her position granted her, so he could orchestrate a hit on her. He probably would’ve succeeded too. We’d managed to get some protection in the jail, but not nearly enough for a fucking kingpin to stay safe. If she’d gone down for this, Greyson and I would’ve had to do some serious work to keep her alive. I was talking about jailbreak-type work. This whole situation screamed of a setup, but what did I know, other than Cash was a psycho and my girl was apparently talking to his brother.

We’d be having words about that.

Walking to my cell was fascinating. At first, everyone whistled. Catcalls and yells about the “pretty boy” were ignored, only for the men to ramp up, shouting offers to get me anything I wanted if I bent over. It was all exactly how I expected it to be, so I kept my mouth shut, my eyes forward, and my vibes gearing toward back the fuck up.

Then the whispers started.

I heard Mari’s name and then Cash’s, and the voices at the bars got hungrier, darker, and I knew that even if she had some protection, Mari definitely wouldn’t have survived. Not because she wasn’t powerful or strong enough, but because there were just too fucking many people in here who weren’t on our side, and I had no doubt the women’s section was just as split.

In fact, it was probably worse since Cash had been planning to get one of our ladies in there for a while.

The guard tapped my cell, A31, and shoved me inside it. “Here you go, Killer.”

Refusing to rub at the bruised ribs his asshole friends had given me, I smirked like a dick. “Thanks for the nickname, but it’s not really my style.”

The guard looked at me like I was an idiot. “I wasn’t talking to you. Enjoy your new bunkie.” He jerked his head to the shadow at the back corner and grinned, laughing his ass off as the doors clanked shut behind me.

It wasn’t until the shadows moved and I was against the wall, a sharpened toothbrush at my throat, that I realized I was not the only killer in the room.

The man was lean to the point of almost being too thin, but those wiry muscles were strong. Most of him was still shadowed, but I caught a halo of dark-blond hair and a flash of brown eyes. His skin was a dark tan and a little ashy, like he was desperate for some water and a bottle of lotion.

My eyes peered to his side of the room and the near-empty bottle of lotion near the head. I cringed. Maybe he already has some.

“You got a name, pretty boy?” He shook me when I just stared silently, bringing my focus back. “Well?” I blamed the fire; it’d zapped all my strength to get Ash out, knowing Mari was inside.

“Dominic.”

“You got a last name?”

I thought about my answer for a long time, knowing that if he wasn’t a sympathizer, I was as good as dead. This shitty-ass room would be the last thing I was going to see.

Yeah, fuck that.

I wanted to die buried in my girl, not sharing space with some six-foot-something asshole. If he wanted to play, I’d play all fucking day.

Straightening up, I said, “Marcosa,” and hoped for the best.

Silence weighed heavy between us, and I could practically see him making calculations that I hoped were the How can I make this work to my advantage variety instead of the How do I kill him without getting another lifetime in this shithole kind.

“You’re the underboss.” I nodded, and he stepped back, finally giving me some space. “I’m shocked to see you. Thought it was a rumor you got pinched.”

“It was a calculated risk,” I said carefully, not knowing if he was really on my side or not. People would say anything to make you believe them.

He nodded like he understood and held out a hand. “Montgomery, but I go by Killer.”

Keeping my eyes on the shiv, I shook. He looked down and startled, as if he’d forgotten he had it in his hand. With an apologetic grimace, he tucked it away under his bed and came back.

“I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I don’t know if that’s true quite yet. Is Killer an accurate nickname?” He smiled at my question, and it changed his whole face, making him look way younger than I’d expected.

“Fuck me, how old are you?”

“Twenty-one and, yes, it’s accurate.”

Christ, he was a kid and a murderer. I mean, it wasn’t a surprise in our lives, but still. He should’ve been in college or going to bars, more focused on getting laid and setting his life up for success. Instead, he was in jail.

While I grappled with that, he lifted up the gray T-shirt he wore and flashed a tattooed chest at me. I stepped back, holding my hands between us. “Look, man. I’m not interested in?—”

“Fuck off.” He laughed as he tapped the skin near his hip.

I had to get way too fucking close to his junk to see the insignia, but there it was. The filigree M that all Marcosa men had. “You’re one of ours?”

He nodded, then shook his head. “I was initiated, but I got picked up almost immediately after. No time on the ground.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” If he’d been asked to initiate, especially as young as he was, it meant Mari had a reason to ask him to. “What’s the protection like in here?”

He dropped the shirt and settled against the opposite wall. “Not much, but it keeps us alive. Most of it has been in place since Antoni was in power.”

He said the name with such reverence that I reevaluated him. “You one of Antoni’s boys?”

There had been whispers even in Chicago of Antoni taking street kids and initiating them early, giving them a chance to get their lives in order. They were desperate and foolish, but Antoni wasn’t the type to play fast and loose with someone’s life, and he didn’t mistreat them. If he initiated them, he thought they had a chance at something better.

The kid nodded, and I could admit, I was shocked. I’d assumed most of the kids had died early trying to prove themselves. Apparently not.

“How long?”

“Was I in the family, or how long have I been here?”

“Both.”

“Seven years in the family, six in here.”

Christ, he was fourteen when he blooded into the family, and he’d been arrested just before Antoni had died. That was young. He was either stupid, desperate, or seriously good at his job.

“Tell me what I’m getting into here,” I said, taking a chance that he really was on our side. He was still in here, still alive, but who knew if he was loyal to our queen. Jail changed people; I didn’t have to be in here to know it.

He ran me through the basics. The food lines, the commissary, the way cell checks went. He also told me which guards were more lenient to contraband than others. Killer or not, he was a fucking gold mine of info. He’d just spelled out the current gangs and their holdings inside the jail when he explained that there’d been some strange dealings lately.

“Guards who’ve been clean are turning their heads at beatings, longtime rivals suddenly working together to smuggle shit in, best friends killing each other in their sleep. No rhyme or reason to any of it, man.”

“How long?”

“About six months ago.”

“Around the time Rey died.” Mari’s former underboss had been feared and revered in equal measure, and his loss had rocked the foundation of the Marcosa name.

Killer hummed. “There’s always chaos when power shifts, even in here, but this was worse.”

Sitting on my bed, back against the wall, I wondered if it had something to do with not just Cash, but Nate. How long had he been out of the Army? How long had he been in the city?

Was he the catalyst for all this?

Not knowing how much time I had, I decided to utilize Killer’s information and put the fear of god back into the Marcosa name. But first… “Have you heard anything about Cash in here?”

“Only that he’s a fucking psycho.” I raised a brow, and Killer blew out a breath. “Honestly, it’s his people who make me nervous.”

Dread pooled in my stomach, and I thanked every deity I remembered that Mari wasn’t in here. “You have Aces in here?”

“Yes, and they’re insane. Genuinely, certifiably insane. None of them should be in gen pop. I have no clue how they weren’t hospitalized instead of jailed.”

A shitty justice system, probably, but I didn’t say that.

A loud bell preceded a guard’s voice echoing through the cellblock. “Inmates, on your feet. Time for chow.”

Killer walked with me to the now-open door, holding me back before I left the cell. “I’ve got your back out there. The Aces have been out for blood.”

As we stepped into line, I thought about what Mari had said and realized she was right. We needed to remind people that we had power everywhere, even in jail. My job was to take care of problems that didn’t need her attention, so I’d send a few messages while I was inside and get back to the real world before I caught a knife in the back.

Easy.

The mess hall was uncomfortably quiet. There were low conversations, but the tension was thick enough to snap. “Is it usually like this?”

“No.” Even his voice was tense, and I could see his eyes darting everywhere.

That’s comforting…not.

We edged forward a bit more in line, with Killer nearly plastered to my back. It was honestly as safe as possible. Or, I’d thought it was.

I stepped up to get my food, when two big bodies shifted beside me. “What the?—”

They moved quicker than I expected, snatching me away from Killer and shoving me into the kitchen, where another man waited. The move was so smooth and practiced, I wasn’t surprised not a single guard had noticed.

It definitely wasn’t their first time.

“Dominic Marcosa, underboss to that bitch. You’re worth a lot of money.”

My fists clenched at the disrespect, but I held myself back. Taking two of them down wouldn’t normally be a problem, but the third was an added difficulty, especially when my eyes and lungs were still fucked from the fire.

Did I show them any of that? No. I was Mari Marcosa’s underboss, and I didn’t cower for anything. I threw my arms out to the side, cocky as always. “Well, let’s go, then.”

I held my own fine for a while. The first guy went down in a shower of bloody curses and broken teeth. The second went down in silence with a right hook to the eye, but as I went to finish the third, I made a critical error.

Never take your eyes off your opponent.

My focus had shifted to the third asshole, so I didn’t see the first one get back on his feet. Didn’t even know he’d moved until the flash of movement caught my eye. I twisted, avoiding a straight shot to the kidney, but he still stabbed me.

Motherfucker, that hurt.

Grunting, I angled my body so I could see all three of them, berating myself for the mistake. “You think that’s enough to take me out?”

“Maybe not right away, but it’ll get you eventually. Unfortunately, the boss said we had to make it messy.”

Of course he did.

I straightened, ready to take them all on, when the door slammed open to reveal my pissed-off bunkie. He took one look at me, eyes narrowed on where I held my side, and the nice kid from my cell was gone.

Killer charged in, face tight and fists flying. “I told you they were out for blood. If you don’t kill them, they pop back up like roaches.”

Feeling the blood seep through my fingers, I had to agree. “Figured that out, thanks.”

With Montgomery’s help, we quickly killed the three men, not even bothering to drag them farther into the kitchen where they couldn’t be stumbled upon. “Any idea how to get these guys out of here?”

I didn’t know much about prison, but I knew bed check was a thing. If I ever wanted to leave, I had to make sure the bodies couldn’t be traced back to me.

“We’ve got a cleaner in-house.”

“What?”

He grinned, but before he could explain, four more Aces stepped into the room. I was exhausted, my side was burning, and I just knew we weren’t getting out of this. One glance at the kid said he felt the same, but I didn’t see a hint of remorse on his face. He didn’t seem to care if he died here because he’d never really lived.

If I get out of here, I’m getting him out too.

They rushed us, jumping over their fallen comrades until they were throwing fists left and right. One caught me on my sore cheek and another to my stomach. I fought not to groan when they hit the stab wound, but my opponent—an older meathead well past his prime—doubled down, readjusting his grip on my shoulder so he could pound his fist right into it. I threw my own punches as much as possible without giving him access to more deadly spots, but I didn’t have much I could do. I was in bad shape, and Killer was across the room battling the other three as my already-dismal energy levels flagged.

I was seconds away from dropping when someone hauled the guy off me and into a trio of bodies ready to pound the shit out of him. They punched and kicked with laser precision, while I did nothing but watch. When my attacker was finally done for, they turned on me, and I realized I might have just traded one devil for another until I noticed they didn’t move closer.

“Are you all right?” I spun, arm flying, but Killer caught my fist before it landed. The move twisted my stomach, and I groaned under my breath.

“You’re hurt.”

I was up and in front of the kid before the other man finished, and he cocked his head. Taller than me by at least four inches and older, something about the way he held himself screamed military. The people who went in never seemed to be able to release those taught mannerisms, even after they got out.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked.

“A friend.”

“A Marcosa friend?”

“No.”

Well, that was direct and not at all what I wanted to hear. “I don’t take help from people I don’t know.”

Killer shot an elbow to my side, grimacing when I doubled over with a pained cough. “What the fuck!”

“Sorry, just…take the help.”

As I glanced up at the kid, he looked both grateful and wary, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. For his part, the newcomer ignored me, focusing on Montgomery instead.

“Take him to the infirmary. We’ll get rid of these idiots.”

Montgomery nodded, carefully wrapping a hand around my back. “Come on, I’ll take you the back way so no one sees.”

“Thanks.” The last thing I needed was an audience to my injury. The strong always hunted the weak, especially in places like jail.

We were steps away from the door when the leader called to me. I turned back warily, and his eyes seemed to lighten some. “Give the kid our best.”

What kid?I said nothing as we walked out, leaving the trio and the bodies behind. As soon as they were out of sight, I ripped myself out of Killer’s grasp and glowered behind us. “What the hell was that? Were they Marcosas?”

“Aces.”

Aces helped me? That didn’t make any sense.

Killer looked over at me and grinned. “They’re not like the others, though.”

“How so?”

“They stay out of shit. Most of them are too mental to be messed with, but those three stick to themselves. They never get into fights.”

Then why were they messing around protecting their sworn enemy? It didn’t make sense. My side throbbed, reminding me I had bigger problems to worry about.

“Fuck,” I hissed, holding my hand to the bloody wound. “Mari’s going to kill me.”

“The queen? Why?” Killer kept his distance, and I walked my happy ass to the infirmary. These assholes wanted to see strength, well, here it was. I wasn’t going down without a fight. If they wanted to jump me again, they’d better bring more men.

She’s my girl, was my first thought, but I wasn’t just Dominic in here. I was Dominic Marcosa, underboss, and the way I phrased things mattered. Mari had to hold the power, always. “I’m hers.”

“What about the other one? Greyson. Dude’s been her shadow her whole life.”

I snorted, knowing the kid had probably heard that from someone else. “He’s hers too.”

He jerked to a stop. “And you’re okay with that?”

I shrugged like it didn’t matter. “She’s the queen.”

“Fuck me, I want that job.”

I cuffed him on the back of the head, groaning when it pulled at my wound. “Don’t be disrespectful. It’s an honor to be hers. We don’t take that shit lightly.”

The kid lifted his hands, though that lecherous look was still on his face. “I bet you have the best orgies.”

I was seriously going to take his nickname from him if he didn’t shut up.

The visit to the infirmary was quick and painful. No numbing drugs for me, but the stitches weren’t awful, and I hid the bandage under a new shirt that Killer got for me. We were about to head out when I peeked toward the hallway and saw one of the Aces posted in front of the door.

“Have they ever helped a Marcosa before?”

“No.”

Give the kid our best.

Nate. He’d been on the phone with Mari when the cops pulled up, and I knew they’d talked since he left. Had he done this? Had he given me extra protection? If so, why?

It would be easier for him to get Mari if I was dead, either to kill or keep.

Even though I despised him, I couldn’t see him as the type. Not when it was obvious that he wasn’t letting Mari go. I’d take the protection he offered, but it didn’t mean I had to like him.

After I was fixed up, we went back to the chow hall, hoping to get something to eat. Our cellblock had already cleared out, but no one told us off, so we got in line, grabbing things we could take back to the cell. I was waiting for Montgomery, idly watching the heavily armed tables with a frown, positive there were more guards than before when the voice rang out.

“Beckstrom, back in the cage!”

My head whipped around, and I caught the eyes of a man who looked so similar to Nate, it was uncanny. There was some of Cash in him too, but Mari’s boy toy was front and center in the man’s face. He sneered at me, spitting on the floor, only to grunt when the guard clipped him in the kidney with the butt of his gun.

“Ace Beckstrom. He was in gen pop when I first got here, but he killed three prisoners and two guards after his son came to visit him, so he’s been in isolation pretty much ever since.”

“Which son?”

“The eldest.”

Cash.

Made sense. I wanted to ask if he was unhinged too, but a guard barked my name next. I turned, making sure the only one who got my back was Killer. “Yeah?”

“Get your shit together. You’re out.”

Oh, fuck yes.