Chapter Ten #3
“Curiosity got the best of me,” he said, looking at all of us.
“I began to sneak down into the basement everyday just to check on him. My father brought him home in the middle of one of the worst winters in Chicago. At the time, my father and Romano were working on setting up a base here in St. Louis. I remembered my father talking about some gang or crew that was pushing back against our forces.”
We all shot a look to Jer.
It was Sullie and Dom. They were the ones fighting back, standing up for this city.
“My father said the boy was good at listening without being seen. Collin was used as a rat. He would walk the streets of the city, hitting up low level bars, pretending to be a homeless kid asking for food. If he got in, he would eat quietly and listen to the conversations around him. At the end of the day, he would report to my father and go to bed in the basement. That basement wasn’t heated. I felt bad for him…”
“You cared for him,” Gwen whispered.
Kevin nodded. “Eventually, we became friends, and by that summer, I was hanging out with him in secret. Years passed and…dammit, G, Collin was my best friend. Father put him in school, and he got on the baseball team with me. He was good. At one point, I loved baseball. God, I loved it.” He looked up at her, tears falling down his face.
“Whenever we played, there would be a moment, just a rare moment in time, when I wasn’t the son of a mafia boss and that he wasn’t a rat for my father.
We would be just two kids having fun. The older we got, the more pressure my father put on me, and he would send Collin away on missions with Romano’s men.
By the time I turned sixteen, my father relocated us to St. Louis, and Ian became the star player at the university. ”
Gwen looked away from him then, her eyes focusing on the wall as she let out a shaky breath. I should have been there.
“I never expected to meet you, Haley, and Kay. I never expected to build actual friendships with you. For Collin, he treated it like a job. He was so fucking serious and cold all the time…except for when he had to be around you.”
“Stop,” she hissed.
He didn’t. “When he was around Kay, I know you saw it too. He was different with her. He—”
“Enough!” Jer barked, stepping up to Kevin, silencing him. The man gulped. Yup, a pussy. He looked at me next, his brown eyes holding mine. “We're needed at Oasis.”
James was silent, watching the man in the chair. He stepped forward, crouching down to get eye level with the man. “I watched you. I watched all of you. For months. You were nice to Haley. You used to walk her to classes.”
Kevin swallowed as the agent gripped his jaw, slowly rising to his full height.
“You hurt her. You betrayed her. That makes you a dead man. I don’t forgive people who hurt the woman I love. Remember that,” he growled before pushing his face away roughly.
We filed out of the room, with me the last to leave. I turned to him, looking up at the light. “I’ll leave that on for you.”
He stared, his throat bobbing. “Thank you, Dean.”
An hour later, the four of us were standing in the middle of Oasis.
This was the meeting place for street racers in St. Louis.
This was where Jer brought Haley and me the night of her disappearance, though we never went inside the massive building. It was an old, red brick building, probably built in the early 1900s, and had been a factory, a brewery, and a storage unit for the railroad at one point.
Now, it was owned by Jer, Leon Torrance, and Dontell Michealson.
Cars in various colors, styles, age, and power lined the far wall. On the opposite wall, there was a bar, and music played throughout the space, the beats thumping low as people mingled. A few food trucks were out in the parking lot today due to the car show.
It was a private show, by invitation only.
An elite list of racers, movie stars, musicians, and collectors were in attendance, and because of this, we would be able to meet without interruption.
The people would be focused on the cars and races.
The most prized cars were parked on the main floor, allowing spectators a glance at their power while the owners placed bets, to the far left of the building, about a football field length away from where we sat, was an auto garage.
It contained seven bays, all full of cars that were currently being worked on.
Jer told me that when he entered this chapter in his life, he wanted to make a name for himself, one that didn’t come from his uncle. He did just that.
He was the future of the underground in St. Louis, and after Sullie stepped down, Jer would be responsible for keeping the peace in the city.
Between the two men, they possessed more power than Romano ever could have in this city.
Since the attack three weeks ago, Jer had been sending his people—and Sullie’s—into the city to flush out the disease.
Of course, James looked the other way, keeping the FBI focused on the case.
The only problem was that Romano had the politicians, diplomats, and police on his payroll—but we had one thing the mafia didn’t: the power of the people.
Strength was in numbers, and we had an army.
When we did strike, it would be an uprising in the bottom of the ninth.
We would be the Grand Slam to take it all.
A hand touched my arm, and I looked down to see Gwen staring up at me. She was sitting in a chair in front of me, at a table filled with Jer and Sullie’s ranked members.
On the right, you had Dontell and Leon, Jer's co-owners. Beside then you had Dom, who was Sullie’s right hand.
Sullie told us he didn’t want to resort to the old ways anymore, that the Crew stood for something more than just violence, and I could respect that.
Dom and Sullie spent their lives fighting for what they had.
Jer sat across from Gwen, Dom and Sullie on either side of him. Jer was in his element, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Jeremy Jones was humble enough to not crave all that power, but if he didn’t fill Sullie’s shoes…that meant Kay was next in line.
“Are you okay?” Gwen’s sweet voice filled my ears, freeing me from my thoughts. I put my hand on the back of her neck, my fingers squeezing gently. I nodded, my features softening as I scanned her face.
“You think these men could be in Boston?” Sullie boomed, breaking the stare between Gwen and me.
“It’s unlikely,” James said, shaking his head from his spot on the wall. He lingered in the shadows, observing, studying, plotting. “Romano doesn’t like to have all his key players in one place.”
“I agree,” Dom said, his voice carrying throughout the space.
“It would be too easy for his kingdom to fall,” Sullie noted, stroking his black beard.
“If that was the case, then who the hell was at the dinner?” Gwen asked. The dinner. The night I killed Tony Romano.
“The bodies were identified as low-level men and a few smaller regional leaders,” James answered simply. “Romano wanted to make it seem like a big dinner to keep up appearances.”
“Some of those regional leaders were key players, though. Still, I don’t think the sports gambling leaders are his most valued players,” I returned, meeting the agent’s dark eyes.
“No, they’re not, and that’s what we missed,” James growled.
“The key players are in the rings,” Gwen stated, sitting back in her chair, crossing her arms.
Leon let out a growl, curling his lip in disgust. “I can’t wait to kill this fucker.” A small smirk formed on my lips.
That…that I would like to see.
Leon Torrance was a very dangerous man and aided the Feds in a sex trafficking bust in Houston a few years back.
His niece had been one of the victims, and now, his life’s mission was protecting innocent women and children.
He owned women shelters all over Missouri, and he told me a few weeks ago that he planned on expanding them down to Arkansas—Little Rock, to be precise.
“The FBI has brought in the trafficking division, something that my director wanted to keep under the radar, but after the attack three weeks ago, we need to make it known,” James explained.
“Washington knows then, yes?” Gwen sat up, looking at James. He nodded, folding his arms over his chest, his guns hanging down from his shoulder holster.
“Fuck,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Why is that a bad thing?” one of Jer’s men asked from beside Gwen. I turned to answer him.
“Romano has politicians on his payroll, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that some of them are participants in the rings. If this knowledge goes up the wrong ladder—”
“Then we are fucked,” he finished for James.
“So the plan is for you four to go to Boston to do what exactly?” Dom questioned, leaning back in his seat, the chair groaning underneath his weight.
“Kill Collin,” Jer deadpanned. His uncle put a hand on his shoulder. “Charlie will be on standby if you need him.”
Jer turned to him, respect masking his face. “I appreciate that, Uncle.” They shared a moment, and I averted my eyes, looking down at my woman.
“Who's Charlie?” Gwen asked.
Sullie turned to her with kind eyes. “He is an old friend and a powerful ally. Jer has his number. All you need to do is call, and he’ll be there.”
“Don’t hesitate to call us if shit goes sideways, bookworm,” Dom said softly, his brown eyes shining with affection. My throat tightened at the love and respect these powerful, dangerous men showed my baby girl.
If I died, I knew she and Aiden would be alright— they would be surrounded by family.
Another hour later, and we were on the way to the airstrip, our bags in the back.
We all rode silently in the Bureau’s Tahoe, James and Jer in front, leaving Gwen and I in the back.
The air was heavy, and it felt like I was going into war, with the love of my life beside me. The one person I couldn’t lose.
Shaking my head, I yanked my hair out of its bun to relieve some of the headache that had formed. I knew what this was—fear, stress...
Once we were at the airstrip, Jer and James got onto the jet immediately. Gwen followed, her brunette curls flowing in the wind.
My soul shouted for her, needing her as if everything depended on it.
Before she reached the steps, I yanked her arm, spinning her back to me.
She landed against my chest, her palms on my shoulders.
Before she could utter a word, I had a hand in her hair, tilting her head back, demanding access.
My mouth crashed down on hers, and I kissed her with abandon, giving her everything I had.
She whimpered, her hands snaking up and around my neck, her fingers playing with my hair. My free hand yanked her hip, pulling her flush against my body, her softness everywhere I was hard. Made for me and only me.
“I love you,” I said harshly against her lips before shoving my tongue inside her delicious mouth. She let out a sound I didn’t want any other person to hear. Ever.
“Mine,” I hissed, biting her lip.
“Yours,” she breathed, kissing me again, softer this time.
I broke away from her, leaning my forehead against hers as our breathing remained ragged. I looked into her eyes, cupping her face in my hands. The wind howled around us, the moonlight shining down as the sounds of the jet engine hummed.
“When I tell you to run, you run. When I tell you to leave, you leave. Do you understand me?” I ordered, my jaw tight as I stared into her eyes.
She shook her head, her eyes going wide. “No, I won’t run from a fight, and I won’t leave you—”
“You will run to our son, baby girl. You will not leave him,” I barked. Her bottom lip trembled, and I stroked it with my thumb.
“You leave me behind to get to him, got me?”
She whimpered. “I got you.”
“When I tell you to run…”
“I run,” she finished, kissing me once more.