Chapter 8
Wes
What the fuck?
The pulse in my neck throbbed as I sat in the car, listening to Vince and Juliette scream at each other inside the house.
I’d never been a fan of Vince Ginocassi, but hearing that asshole bark at his daughter like she worked for him sent fire coursing through my veins.
Who talks to their kid like that? It took every ounce of my self-control not to storm in there and break up their argument.
But a glance in my rearview at the two goons sitting in the car behind me reminded me why I wasn’t making a move.
Across the street was a second SUV parked with two more men—four guys in total.
Vince usually traveled with just one bodyguard, so something must’ve happened if he needed this much security.
After another tense ten minutes, Juliette’s front door finally whipped open. Vince stomped down the porch steps and headed straight to my car, sliding into the passenger seat without asking.
“Are you even capable of not thinking with your dick around my daughter?” he roared.
Heat rushed to my face as I fought to maintain my composure. “I’ve been nothing but professional around Juliette.”
“Didn’t look very professional from where I was sitting when you two pulled up,” he scoffed. “Looked like you were having a good ol’ time.”
My jaw flexed. “What’s going on? I know you didn’t come all the way out to California to make sure I wasn’t smiling around Juliette. If you didn’t trust me, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”
Vince stared at me before he spoke again. He was trying to intimidate me, but I wasn’t going to kiss his feet, no matter who the hell he was. “Things have gotten hot,” he said. “Boiling.”
“You told me this morning that Altieri and his men had left town, and I didn’t need to keep Juliette locked up in the house anymore.”
“That was fucking this morning!” he bellowed. “Tonight, things are different.”
“What happened?”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you, writing a fucking book?”
I clenched my teeth, rather than my fists, but I was about two seconds away from punching this asshole in the face. “I can’t do my job unless I know what I’m looking out for.”
He heaved a sigh. “Everything. Anything. One of my men’s kids got popped.
Thirteen fucking years old. And he wasn’t collateral damage.
It was a direct hit, aimed right at the boy.
The old rules are gone—families aren’t off-limits anymore.
The next generation coming up are a bunch of damn animals.
” He looked over at Juliette’s house. “I got word that Juliette’s a target, and they know where she lives. ”
Shit. “What’s the plan?”
“I want her off the grid for a while, at least until things cool down. So pack your shit. You’re flying private. I’m not taking any chances that someone follows her out of town. The plane leaves Van Nuys Airport in two hours.”
“Where are we going?”
He held out an envelope. “Ortigia.”
Vince opened the car door and started to get out, then turned back with a raised finger. “If you so much as touch my daughter, I’ll have your dick cut off and stuffed for my mantel. Do you understand me?”
This time, my fists actually balled at my sides, but I managed to grind out a single word. “Yes.”
“Good.” He leaned down before shutting the door. “Get her on that plane. No matter what it takes.”
The door slammed shut before I could ask where the fuck Ortigia even was. I sat in the car and googled it as I watched Vince and his army drive off. Ortigia is a small island off the coast of southeastern Sicily. It is part of the city of Syracuse and is connected to the mainland by two bridges.
Great. I don’t speak Italian. I’d have to worry about that later, considering I only had two hours to get to the damn airport. I shoved the envelope Vince had given me in my back pocket, checked my surroundings, and headed into the house.
Juliette was sitting at the kitchen table, eating what looked like a bowl of ice cream. My brows drew together. “Why aren’t you packing?”
“Because I’m not going.”
Great. Just fucking great.
I heard crunching, so I leaned in for a closer look at what she was chomping on. “What’s in there?”
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch, vanilla ice cream, and caramel syrup.”
I made a face that told her what I thought of the combination, and Juliette went off.
“Mind your own business about my ice cream! And while you’re at it, keep your nose out of anything to do with the men I date, too!”
An hour ago, she’d been thanking me for showing her what an asshole her date was. But clearly now was not the time to point that out.
She pushed back from the table, chair scraping against the tile, and marched over to the garbage, dumping her ice cream—bowl, spoon, and all.
“And I’m not going to Ortigia! So just leave me alone!”
I counted to ten, but it wasn’t enough. I still needed to cool down before I tried to talk some sense into her.
So instead, I went to the garbage and fished out the ceramic bowl she’d tossed.
The day must’ve gotten to me, because before I could think better of it, I’d scooped some of the crap she was eating into my mouth.
I shrugged. Not bad. I rinsed the dish before knocking lightly at Juliette’s bedroom door.
“Go away!”
“I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”
She didn’t answer, so I creaked open the door and found her sitting on the bed.
I spoke calmly. “We have to go. You’re in danger.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere!”
“I know you don’t, and I don’t blame you. It sucks that you constantly have to deal with the fallout from something you’ve worked hard to keep your distance from.”
When she looked up, tears welled in her eyes. “I have a life here. A job, friends…commitments. What would I even tell people?”
“Maybe you can say someone in your family is ill, and you have to take an unplanned trip.”
She seemed to consider it for a moment, but she shook her head. “No, I’m not going.”
I could try to reason with her some more or toss her over my shoulder and carry her ass to the plane.
The latter would probably be easier, but I suspected it would raise more than a few eyebrows.
So I took a deep breath before walking to the bed and sitting down.
Telling her she wasn’t safe hadn’t worked, so I switched tactics.
“What’s it going to take to get you on that plane, Juliette? Because if I don’t get you to Ortigia safely, it’s gonna be my ass.”
She met my eyes and held my gaze for a few beats. “Tell me what my father has over you to get you to work for him.”
Fuck. Vince would not be happy if he found out I’d told his daughter the story of how we’d connected, but I looked at my watch—an hour and fifty minutes to go, and it would probably take an hour to get to the airport with LA traffic. “You’ll pack and get on the plane if I tell you?”
She nodded.
“Fine.” I centered myself for a moment. “When I was a cop, I responded to a domestic violence report of a man abusing his wife. I busted through the door and found a three-hundred-pound asshole beating a five-foot-nothing woman. He had one hand around her neck, holding her against the wall, and the other was pummeling her face. The guy was so out of his mind, he didn’t even hear me come in.
He punched her again before I could get to him, and I heard the crack of her nose.
” I paused, seeing the woman’s bloody face again like she was right in front of me.
“My father used to beat my mother when I was a kid, so I guess it brought back a lot of bad memories, and I lost it on the guy. I took him down to the floor and beat the crap out of him. When backup arrived, they had to pull me off of him, and he was a bloodier mess than his wife was. Long story short, I got fired from the force, and the district attorney charged me criminally for using excessive force. Turned out, the woman being beaten was Vince’s cousin. ”
Juliette gasped. “Oh my God. Antoinette?”
I nodded.
“I remember that. It was in the news. I’d called my dad to see if she was okay.”
“A few days later, Vince showed up at my door and told me he respected what I’d done for his cousin.
Then he laid out a deal. Antoinette would change her story—say she’d smashed her husband in the face with a frying pan after he started beating her, and that her husband had pulled a gun on me.
That version would clear me. In exchange, I’d owe Vince.
He wanted me working security for him. Said he liked the idea of a trained cop on his payroll.
” I shrugged. “Prison isn’t easy for regular people.
It’s a different kind of hell for cops. So I took the deal. ”
Juliette reached over and squeezed my hand. Then she got up and took out a suitcase. “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
***
“Have you ever been to Ortigia?” Juliette asked once our plane had leveled out at flying altitude.
I’d been too busy strangling the armrests to talk until now. I wasn’t a fan of planes, especially not little ones like this, even if the inside was fancy. I shook my head. “Never been to Italy.”
“You’re going to love it. It’s beautiful.”
“What’s in Ortigia? The little bit I read about it said it was a pretty small island.”
She nodded. “It is. My grandmother lived there. When I was growing up, we went once a year, and I loved it. It was the only time I felt like I had a normal family. My dad wasn’t the boss yet, so things were calmer.
Though he always had a posse of men around.
His…” She made air quotes. “…associates didn’t come with us to Ortigia, so it was just my mom and dad and me.
We’d do simple things like go to the beach and take bike rides, and my dad wasn’t busy looking over his shoulder all the time. ”
I smiled. “That sounds nice. When did you stop going?”
“When I was sixteen. The last time I was there was for my grandmother’s funeral. But my dad still goes back from time to time. Do you know where we’re staying?”