37
Broadway
S undays are usually downtime days, but not this one. Bright and early, Carter sent Koby and me to retrieve a load of cash from a local dealer running late with payments.
The asshole had the audacity to draw his gun. Under normal circumstances, he’d be dead, but given he was evidently high, Carter ordered a take it easy on him approach.
My mounting frustration took that as just don’t fucking kill him ... so I didn’t. Instead, Koby and I hung him by his ankles, then used him as a boxing bag and watched him vomit blood all over his bedroom carpet.
He’ll crawl on his knees to Carter by dawn, begging for forgiveness and a second—read: third—chance.
My ringtone fills the confined space of my car and a few choice words spill from my lips. I just grabbed takeout.
Violet and I planned to spend the afternoon on the couch, watching movies and fucking in between, but it looks like that won’t be happening.
My boss is on the line.
I updated him about the dealer while I waited for the food, so he’s not calling about that.
I shove my thumb into the button on the steering wheel.
“Get to the office right now,” booms from the speakers.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” he snaps, then disconnects the call.
Last time I heard him so thrown off his axis was when he called to say Hailey had disappeared from Lakeside. Clearly, whatever’s happening now is equally distressing for my boss.
My neck stiffens, my body combat-ready in a flash. If something happened to Hailey, Carter will lose his goddamn mind. Any thoughts of taking the food home before heading to Scarlett are tossed aside. I make a sharp U-turn, burning rubber toward the city center.
I dial Violet’s number, hoping she’s charged her phone. She doesn’t carry it with her and often forgets it exists.
The ringing tells me she has plugged it in recently. I turn right, heading down the main street, when her soft voice fills the car.
“Hey, where are you?”
“Change of plans, baby. Carter wants me in Scarlett . I don’t know why so I can’t say when I’ll be home.”
“Oh... okay.” Her disappointed tone is like a seven-inch blade through my throat.
I promised her a lazy day, romcoms, takeout, and sex. Instead, she’ll spend another day alone, locked in my apartment.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I say, putting my foot down to get this—whatever it is Carter wants—over with quickly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I know. Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up on some reading, maybe make something to eat from the leftovers.”
“Call me if you need me.”
She chuckles softly, says bye and disconnects the call, well aware there’s no way I’ll do it first.
The underground parking lot is empty, save for Carter’s Pontiac and an old Toyota I don’t recognize. None of our men drive Toyotas and, frankly, no self-respecting mafioso would drive a piece of shit like this.
No boss would allow one of his soldiers to be seen in a rusty death-trap like this. They paint you how they see you.
I slam the door shut harder than necessary and immediately wince. Taking my frustration out on my car is not the way to go. Lighting a cigarette, I wait for the elevator, then fill the enclosed air with gray clouds before storming across the empty club into Carter’s office.
And I pause in the doorway.
None other than Charles Vaughn, Hailey’s father, sits next to the couch in his wheelchair. His presence here is as surprising as the Band Aid covering his nose and the dark bruises under his eyes. He’s smoking the most expensive cigar Carter has in his collection and downing a glass of my favorite Bourbon.
Not the treatment my boss usually extends to his soon-to-be father-in-law. He despises the man and only tolerates his existence for Hailey’s sake.
“What’s he doing here?” I ask, looking to Carter.
We’ve been working together long enough that one glance tells me everything.
We’re in trouble.
Big trouble.
The furrow between his brow, the intensity of his gaze, his tense posture... it tells a story I don’t want to hear.
“Sit down,” he denotes, his tone icy, a clear warning hiding behind it. A warning aimed at me .
It loosely translates to don’t make things worse .
Grinding my teeth, I settle into the wingback chair opposite the ex-cop, my elbows landing on my knees, the cigarette between my lips close to expiring.
“Vaughn came with a warning,” Carter starts, gesturing for the man to start talking. “Tell him what you told me.”
He straightens in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with Carter’s icy tone.
“For a while now, I’ve been keeping an eye on Noretto,” he starts, eyes jumping between me and Carter. “I still have my old network of informants, so gathering information wasn’t difficult.”
Technically, he’s no longer a cop. He retired, but he’s been in this game his whole life, strategically taking down one boss after another.
What he orchestrated last year proves how critically he thinks.
Even if that endeavor came with a shitload of mistakes, his long list of previous successes backs up his skills. And that comes with an even longer list of contacts and probably owed favors.
But it doesn’t explain why he’s keeping tabs on Blaze.
My brows furrow as I glance at Carter. Why isn’t he fuming? He gave Vaughn an ultimatum last year: retire or never see your daughter again. This is clearly a digression, but Carter doesn’t seem to mind.
“What’s the point?” I ask. “You can’t arrest him.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I know a lot of people, Broadway. Some are friends, some owe me favors. Cops, informants... even criminals. When Blaze started sending his goons to scope out Scarlett , someone tipped me off and it triggered all my alarm bells.”
“He thought Blaze might be after Hailey again.” Carter fills in the blanks, probably sensing my mounting confusion and impatience.
“I made a lot of mistakes last year, but I never wanted my daughter to get hurt,” Vaughn admits in a solemn tone, his face visibly heating with shame. “When I realized Blaze was planning something, something that might involve Hailey, I used my contacts to track his moves.”
The fucking audacity of this guy is astonishing. Does he really think Carter needs his help keeping Hailey safe? After everything that went down, Vaughn’s the last person Carter trusts with his wife-to-be.
He has me, Koby, Ryder, and an army of soldiers ready to shield her with their own bodies.
“Carter’s perfectly capable of keeping Hailey safe without your input,” I clip, offended on my boss’s behalf.
“Yes, I know,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But... Hailey mentioned she’s looking for a wedding venue. I thought maybe if I found something to help Carter shut Noretto down, I’d be allowed to walk my daughter down the aisle.”
“ That was your reasoning?” Carter snaps, zeroing in on his father-in-law-to-be just as the door swings open, allowing Koby and Ryder to enter. “You’re a fucking disgrace, Vaughn. Keeping your daughter safe should be your priority, not buying your way into my good graces.”
“Fuck, boss!” Koby booms, alive with restless energy. “You’re getting married?!”
“Eventually, yes.” Carter’s gaze swings to Vaughn, the hatred between them crackling in the air. My boss has an undeniable advantage while everything Vaughn holds dear is safely in the palm of Carter’s hand.
“I do care about her safety, but, as Broadway pointed out, you’re much better at keeping her safe than I am.” Vaughn heaves out one breath, then another, and when he speaks again he’s much more timid. “She’s all I have, Carter. And I’m all the family she has left. Don’t rob her of my presence at her wedding. She wants me there.”
“I’m her family,” Carter snaps. “Broadway, Ryder, Koby, Violet. That ’s Hailey’s family. You were just a sperm donor. She doesn’t trust you. Not one fucking bit. I don’t forbid her from coming to see you every week. I never would, but our wedding... that’s a different story. And so are your future grandchildren. She can visit you whenever she wants, but you will not see my kids unless I trust you.”
I damn near choke on a sip of Bourbon.
Kids? Well, fuck me. That’s the last thing I ever expected Carter would want. Hailey’s barely twenty-one, so I guess it’s still a far-off dream, but the fact he’s even considering kids is baffling. He never struck me as the type.
Then again, I never considered myself the type, and now every time I empty myself deep inside Violet I hope I’ve put a baby in her.
Vaughn grinds his teeth, clearly annoyed that he’s being treated like he’s worth less than the dirt on Carter’s shoes. I almost feel sorry for the guy.
Almost.
His sins are too big to elicit much empathy. Not when I saw what those sins did to Hailey, and what they did to Carter.
I bet the mere idea of his only daughter marrying a criminal is too much for him to swallow, but he knows better than to voice his objections. He’s scared Carter will persuade Hailey to stop visiting.
I shake my head to chase away the grim thoughts of the time Carter spent living like a shadow, searching for Hailey. He was a wreck until we pinpointed her location, lashing out at everything and everyone, hardly sleeping, and missing her like a drowning man misses air.
I didn’t understand it back then. Losing your wits like that over a girl was incomprehensible. Now I have Violet, the mere thought of losing her is unbearable.
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Vaughn grits out, features pinched, sweat beading at his hairline. “I want your trust.”
“You started well,” Carter says. “Now tell Broadway why you’re here.”
Vaughn’s eyes swing back to me, and something in them spikes anxiety through my veins.
“What is it?” I ask, my spine rigid.
Koby takes the empty crystal glass from my hand to refill it while Ryder starts setting up his equipment.
“Blaze’s moves made no sense. I knew he was looking for an angle, but other than sending men to Scarlett he wasn’t doing anything. I was convinced he was after Hailey, but no one was tailing her, no one was stationed outside her college.”
He downs the last of his drink, rolling his wheelchair forward to set his glass on the coffee table.
“It wasn’t until this morning that I realized Noretto isn’t after Hailey.”
A cold sweat breaks out along my spine.
Violet.
I had a feeling Blaze was looking for an opportunity to steal my girl. Vaughn hasn’t confirmed it, but it’s clear that’s where he’s going. That’s why Carter’s insisted he tells me why he’s here and what he learned.
“He wants Violet,” I say aloud, my tone betraying how much this affects me. “He’s not getting her.”
Vaughn shakes his head, eyes lighting up with... pity . “He wants the evidence. And you’ve showed him a way to get it.”
A blast of scorching anger melts the anxiety freezing my insides. I’m a furnace now, my chest heaving as I bolt upright, towering above him. “What the fuck are you implying?”
“Nothing sinister,” he says, waving in surrender. “You simply made a mistake when you battered Norbert and Benjamin last night.”
He runs a heavy hand down his face before pinning me down with a pointed stare. “Noretto paid to bring Violet to America. As soon as he realized she’s as important to you as Hailey is to Carter, he set the wheels in motion. Octavius is this close to ending their business arrangement and Blaze needs Grey’s shipment channel. When you guys rescued Hailey, Octavius was furious. He doesn’t tolerate mistakes and letting you buy Violet was Blaze’s second . Now he has to fix them.”
Carter clears his throat, summoning my attention. By the intensity in his dark eyes, his tense posture, and the slight tilt of his head, I think he believes I’ll take what’s coming better if I hear it from him.
“Violet doesn’t have a visa, Broadway. No right to work or even remain in the USA. Blaze used Octavius’s ICE contacts to start an expedited deportation procedure.”