Chapter 9 Colby
COLBY
“Can I ask you something?” I blurt out after one full minute of silence in the back of Eian’s SUV.
“You can ask.” He doesn’t look up from his phone as he answers, and I hate that I’m not annoyed at that, or at how he’s telling me without telling me that he might not answer.
“How long have you known about Lucian Venuti’s involvement in this? And why haven’t you done anything to stop him until now? How do you know it’s him doing it and not his father, or any of the other two Italian families?”
“Holy shit you’ve got energy in the mornings, huh?”
I assume that’s a rhetorical question by how it comes out in an annoyed growl, so I don’t bother answering and just wait with bated breath for answers.
And he takes his sweet-ass time too.
It’s fine, everything’s fine. I’m not trying to think of literally anything else but the way Eian kissed me like a man possessed last night, of course I’m not.
Why would I need to stop thinking about the best kiss of my damn life?
Because it came from a mob boss? Who’s also kind of my captor? And also my bodyguard?
This is enough to put me in an early grave. The overthinking has been killing me the past twelve hours, so yeah, I want to talk about the real-life cesspool of shit we have to deal with so he doesn’t need to keep posing as my bodyguard.
“First, since the Marianos killed my mother, my father and I have done everything in our power to make the Italians’ lives harder.
When we killed every single man who worked for the Marianos and set our eyes on the other four families, they came to us with a deal.
They would stop being the Cosa Nostra, and they wouldn’t build a fifth family anymore if we stopped killing them. ”
I’m struck speechless by how openly he’s talking about all the men he’s murdered since he was . . . I do a quick calculation in my head and realize that yes, that all happened when he was a freaking teenager.
His honesty is something I know I’ll worry about later, because it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let us go if he’s revealing all this, but since I don’t want to have a panic attack, I keep my mouth shut and listen.
“Da and I agreed, but only to stop the violence against our own men. We’d still go out some nights, follow their foot soldiers, find their warehouses and just cut off their power or shit like that. A few years passed and then the Taccones killed my father.”
The only indication of how emotional that memory makes him is the slightly longer pause and a sharp breath, otherwise he’s still looking down at his phone and his tone stays perfectly cool.
“I had Rory, Duffy, Mac, and Blake with me that time, when we killed the Taccones. Then I went to them and told them I’d happily kill one family at a time if they ever went at me again.
Since then there’s been relative peace, and since I had to take over the family, I didn’t have time anymore to go out at night to be a nuisance. ”
My hand shoots up before I can process the intent, and this time he does turn to look at me and smirks at my show of respect. He did tell me to raise a hand if I had something to say instead of interrupting him, so here I am, raising my hand like a kid at school.
“Yes?” he asks, voice mildly amused now.
“Until Duffy took over the job of nuisance?”
I get an airy chuckle for that.
“Exactly. Duffy and Mac started fucking with the Venutis’, the Di Leos’, and the Riccis’ warehouses, their businesses that are only fronts for the drugs they smuggle into the city.
But then two months ago, they found a warehouse full of cages that had women, a couple of men, and a few teenagers in them.
“That’s when we realized Lucian Venuti was up to something with human trafficking.
We freed them the next day and burned that warehouse down, and that’s when I suspect Lucian started being smarter about how he handled all his victims, separate from the family.
We’ve been looking into every warehouse we know they own and haven’t found anything since then. ”
“That wasn’t so long ago.”
“Yes, but you found out about it more than a year ago, so it’s been going on long enough.
To answer your questions, the night Duffy found that warehouse, he heard Lucian bragging about it, how the three remaining heads of the Cosa Nostra didn’t know the money they could make with this new business, how he’d take over soon and show them what true power looks like, and blah, blah, blah.
“Next, when my father first took his seat at the table with the Cosa Nostra, the Bratva, and the Triads, they all made him swear not to deal with flesh peddling in the city. Da didn’t have any plans of doing that, but since the Irish take care of the brothels and gambling, he thought it was only fair for them to make him swear it.
“This is the only rule we’re all supposed to live by, and Marco Venuti knows his life would be forfeit if he broke it, so my guess is that he’s acting in the dark.
It’s an educated guess,” he continues before I can raise my hand again.
“Because the night we found you, Cecilia Venuti and Lorenzo Di Leo came to see me and told me they wanted to eradicate their families and take over as one new family.
“I think Lucian is too greedy, too fucking stupid, and too proud to share this with any of the other families, and since we now believe he has someone powerful backing him, I don’t think he’d want to share with anyone else.”
“I have so many new questions,” I say when he stops talking long enough that I think he’s done.
“You’ll have to save them for another time,” Eian says, and then he scoots over to the middle seat and grabs the lapels of the sports coat he put on me before we left his house.
I don’t expect the pull, or the brain-melting kiss he lays on me, so I barely get to enjoy it before he’s backing away and holding a tiny black box in front of my face.
“This is a tracker and microphone.” Without ceremony, he yanks down the collar of my shirt and then sticks it below my collarbone. He smooths out the sports coat over the shirt, and after giving me a once-over, nods to himself.
I just bet that’s not the only tracker on me. He’s cunning, like he said. It’d be smart of me to remember that.
“It’s for your protection. I’m deciding to trust you not to run away.”
“Of course I’m not gonna run away,” I protest, finally finding my voice. “Maggie’s at your damn house,” I grumble, though honestly that’s only ninety-eight percent of the reason why I won’t be running away.
“And I’m very glad you felt comfortable leaving her with Celly and Rory. I really don’t want the Italians to know you have a daughter, and I doubt they’ll know you’re here, but just in case.”
“I know, and thank you for thinking of that before I did. Also,” I add, a bit conspiratorially.
“I know Rory will probably kill anyone who goes near Maggie.” I get another snort for that and it’s ridiculous how proud I am of every one of those I earn.
“Also, if you want my brain to stop short-circuiting, you’re gonna have to let me know the next time you want to kiss me, m’kay? ”
I’m probably giving too much away, but I don’t think there’s anything he misses when it comes to me.
Like it or not, the head of the Irish mob seems to have taken a real interest in me, and though I’m still not sure how I feel about it, I also know there’s nothing I can do to change it.
“I don’t like making promises I can’t keep,” he murmurs. “So how about I just say, I’ll take that into consideration.”
“You’re so smug,” I grumble.
He lets a full smile loose, and that isn’t any better for my brain function.
“I like knowing the effect I have on you.”
“Please,” I scoff. “You already knew from yesterday.”
“It’s nice to have confirmation, then.” He rolls his eyes playfully then nods at the car window behind me. “Go on, then, we’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I look toward the front of the car, relieved that the partition is up and Blake didn’t hear me being a total dumbass over Eian and his kisses.
“You can’t stay parked here,” I let him know when I open the door, with the empty briefcase he gave me in a tight grip, and I have to shake my head at his simple retort when I climb out.
“I can park wherever the fuck I want.”
Yeah, I guess if you’re Eian Dempsey, you sure can.
It’s surprisingly easy and quick, getting someone to open my deposit box for me, not even twenty minutes after I walked into my bank. The man opens the barred door for me and follows me in.
I remember where my box is, so make my way right over, and then nod in thanks when he places it on the table at the center of the room.
Even though he turns his back to me to give me a sense of privacy, I make a show of taking out some papers from the briefcase—Maggie’s birth certificate and all the adoption papers.
I put them on the table, quickly grab the thick manila folder and the slim drive from the box, putting only the folder in the briefcase, the drive I put in the inside pocket of my coat.
Then I put the new papers in the box and close it.
Never put all your eggs in one basket, Colby.
Dad’s voice reminds me that despite recent events, I do know what I’m doing. I am an intelligent man.
“Done,” I announce for some fucking reason, and pretend his smile isn’t barely polite and mostly confused.
During my career, and my extracurricular activities since I was fired, I’ve never been in the action except when I got myself kidnapped, and yes, that is a little embarrassing, but I don’t mind too much since only I know about it.
In any case, being on this—admittedly super simple—mission is freaking exhilarating. I can feel the fast pump, pump, pump of blood in my veins, and there might be a slight ringing in my ears.