Chapter 22
Cook
I didn’t know much about the man in front of me, but something in my bones knew and hated Massimo Parisi. Maybe it was his exuberant wealth from his whitened teeth and tailored suit. Most likely, it was because he was part of the Mafia and they had been trying to sneak things across our border.
The Gambinos and perhaps the Parisis thought they owned the world, and Maddie, and me. The gun to the back of my neck proved that I was no more than a slab of meat to them.
“I need your help, Cook,” said Massimo, spreading his hands and re-steepling the fingers.
“Help with what?” I did my best to hold a conversation while ignoring how the cool metal brushed against my hairline. “I’m no businessman.”
“I beg to differ,” said Massimo. “The MC is, at its core, a business. You’ve bought and sold marijuana for years until it became legal. Your little club controls what crosses the border, inbound and out. No?”
“I follow the Prez. He handles the business.” I didn’t need to drag Wilde into this, but everything went up through church and him, anyway.
“And you just follow orders?”
“Yes.” I wouldn’t be baited. “I need to leave.” And find Maddie.
“If only it were that easy,” said Massimo, tilting his head to the side.
The barrel pressed further into my skin, like it meant to burrow deep into my skull. What the fuck did they want? I waited in the chair, counting my haggard breaths. When I got out of this, I would kill every single one of them. After I found Maddie and got her somewhere safe.
“What do you want?” Spittle flew onto the desk through my clenched teeth.
“I am here to offer a partnership,” said Massimo. His smile glinted in the light.
“Like I said, MC biz goes through the Prez. And where I come from, a gun to the skull doesn’t really constitute an offer.”
If I got Wilde involved, then I would be pulling Bou and everyone else into it. All the members and their ol’ ladies would get involved. This wasn’t going to be an everyday agreement.
If I was making a deal with the Mafia, I might as well have been trying to sell my soul for a fiddle—devil went down to Phoenix, in this case. I was no coward, but I had to do what I could to protect Maddie. If I brought Massimo to church, at least we would have our numbers and weapons.
They hadn’t ventured into our territory before, so this moving of firearms across the border must be really fucking important to them.
“Then we can take this message to him,” said Massimo. “And your club. Together.”
“Why would I do that?” I asked.
Massimo fluttered his dark eyelashes and then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”
I braced for the gunshot.
It didn’t come.
That gave me enough of a pause to make the situation click. If they wanted me dead, they would’ve already killed me. But they didn’t, instead proposing a... partnership. Whatever the fuck that meant.
Massimo pulled something up on his cell phone and then pointed the screen to me. My breath caught in the back of my throat.
It was a video of my mom in a kitchen, but not her kitchen. She stirred a big pot of something, laughed, and chatted with someone off screen. Then the camera swung to the side and showed her serving a group of Mafia capos, all wearing matching dark suits with their rings on display on top of the mahogany table.
The place looked like a penthouse or some shit. Where the fuck was she?
I clenched my teeth shut as a growl rubbed the back of my throat. I swallowed it down, though I wanted to fight it out. I wanted to yell at them and grab the gun and shoot all these fuckers until it was only Massimo and me. Then I could torture him until he told me where my mother was.
Fuck, did they have Maddie too? I never should’ve let her leave the playroom alone. I should’ve fought how I suppressed the need to follow her. I should’ve gone with my gut and—
“I like that look on his face,” mused Snakes with a devilish smile.
Massimo sent him a fleeting look before turning back to me. “As you can see, your mother is being looked after. This video is from earlier tonight. She makes a mean spaghetti, if I do say so myself.”
My chest rumbled as I seethed.
The man continued, “We understand that she has some mental health concerns, so we have brought her medications too. My doctors will check in on her to make sure she’s well.”
He held out his hand for the phone. “We will continue to treat her well if you help us, Cook.”
I smashed the phone on the desk. “Where is Maddie?”
“Not here,” said Massimo with a nonchalant shrug. “Not there, either.”
“If you hurt her, I will fucking kill you.” The red tint around my vision returned.
Massimo waved me off. “I don’t have her.”
“I don’t believe you,” I snapped. “Where is she?”
Massimo shrugged. “She ran when she saw me.”
A snarl ripped from my lips. Maddie would recognize the Mafia. Of course she would run if she’d ever met him at that fucking club in LA.
Somehow, I doubted Massimo’s claim. He had tracked us here, but how? He looked far too comfortable behind Mercer’s desk. And as at home as Sloan Mercer had been... Ah, shit.
It all made sense. This place, like Enigma, also belonged to the Mafia, and Sloan had been passing all the information to Massimo.
That fucking bastard.
I cleared my throat, taking a different tack. “I can see that you’re taking care of my mother well. What if I take Maddie home and then come back tomorrow morning? I can bring Wilde too, and we can talk this out.”
Massimo smirked, but I didn’t know if I had played into his hands or done something incredibly stupid. “Don’t worry about Maddie,” he said, swiping on his phone.
I stiffened in the seat again, looking down at the screen from the tip of my nose. Did he also have a scene with Maddie recorded? If so, fuck the Mafia and fuck the MC. I was going to slaughter him and everyone in this room.
Instead, he pulled up a map and pointed the screen at me again.
“Looks like she’s already on her way home,” said Massimo as a little dot moved west across the map.
He was tracking her like she was a fucking dog. How?
He looked at the screen and back up at me. “Probably in the direction of where we’re going.”
“And where exactly is that?” I asked, already knowing it would be the Ridge. La Famiglia was bringing their fight to the Ridge, and my brothers wouldn’t be ready.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and Mercer reached into my jacket. He wasn’t kind as he hit my chest, but then pulled out my cell phone. I stayed flexed, but he only laughed at me, like I was a small child.
“Oh, look,” said Mercer, waving the phone in front of my face. “You have three missed calls from Maddie. How sweet. And a new text message.” He pointed the screen at his face and said, “‘I’m okay,’ says Maddie. Apparently, we didn’t scare her enough. Pity.”
I tried to rise to my feet, about to knock the phone out of the hand and him back to the ground, but the barrel cocked me on the back of the head. The pain was minimal, but I couldn’t see shit, except for the spinning room.
Sloan smiled and read more of her message. “‘Mel and Angel came to get me,’ she says. ‘We’re on our way home.’” He looked at Massimo, who nodded curtly.
“Then it’s settled.” Massimo stood and buttoned his jacket.
I blinked at him, trying to bring the two images of him into one.
The gun left the back of my skull and Massimo cupped my chin. My ears buzzed, but his voice came through loud and clear.
To the man behind me, he said, “Pull around the limo.” Then he focused on me. “You’ll take me to Park Ridge to meet your club.”
He let go of me and my chin drooped. What choice did I have?