Chapter Forty-Two
T hree more days passed, and Telma Bennett was still alive.
I was torn. On the one hand, as long as she survived, so did my marriage to her daughter.
On the other, it took its toll on Gia. She was exhausted whenever I saw her, which wasn’t often. She sat vigil day in and day out at the hospice while her mother straddled the gates of life and death.
Strictly from a practical point of view, Gia was safe as long as she was there. Tiernan wasn’t dumb enough to raid a fucking hospice. And me? Well, let’s just say I used my Gia-less time doing a deep dive in his sister’s life. I knew where she lived, who she fucked, and how often.
Row and Rhyland decided to take me out for a few pints tonight to keep me occupied while Gia was with her mother. Even before I got to the bar, I’d decided they were two boring fucks, and I’d called Achilles and Luca to tag along.
Rhyland and Row kept their poker faces on when I strolled into the Forbidden Fruit Club with two full-blown gangsters. The club was Ferrante territory, so I didn’t get what the big deal was. The table was filled with appetizers and expensive spirits.
“Casablancas. Thank you for catering my engagement party. We received nothing but compliments.” Luca offered Row his hand to shake.
“That’s probably because your family makes Al Capone look like a kitty, but I’ll take it.” Row squeezed his palm. “When’s the wedding?”
“Hopefully never.” Luca knocked a shot back, slamming the glass on the table. “But in all probability, next summer.”
“How are the Callaghans?” I turned to Achilles. I didn’t mind talking shop in front of Row and Rhyland. They were straitlaced but discreet. Also, I had both by the balls financially through different endeavors.
“Lying low.” Achilles adjusted the shoulder holster under his suit. Asshole arrived with enough weapons to start a full-fledged war. “They’ve been beefing with the Bratva, so you’re not their first priority.”
“Maybe Tyrone talked some sense into his cuntbag of a son,” I hedged.
“Oh, my sweet summer child.” Luca chuckled, tossing his arms on the back of the leather sofa. “Tiernan answers to no one. I’ve seen him burn down entire neighborhoods for much less.”
“He sounds like a liability.”
“Not necessarily.” Achilles cocked his head. “Crazy is unpredictable. No one wants to fuck with crazy. I’ll take a smart, pragmatic enemy over a deranged one any day of the week.”
I put a hand to my chest. “I’m touched but also taken.”
“Not for long, according to Dylan.” Rhyland reached for his pint of Guinness, draining half of it.
“Releasing Gia from the contract when her mother dies? What is this, amateur hour? You’re usually a much better negotiator.”
“My head wasn’t doing the negotiations,” I drawled into the rim of my whiskey tumbler. “My dick was in charge.”
Row snorted. “How’s her mother doing anyway?”
“Still alive,” I said. “Tomorrow it’ll be two full weeks since they took her off the feeding tube.”
“Shit,” Achilles muttered.
“Yeah.” I tsked. “Gia’s in shambles. I’m half tempted to finish her off myself. It’s probably what she’d want too.”
Row raised his hands. “Hey, if I’m brain-dead with no hope for recovery, do me a favor, and shoot me between the eyes.”
“Gladly.” Rhyland bowed his head.
“Thanks, bro.” Row and Rhyland fist-bumped.
“Shut up and show some respect, or I’ll voluntarily relieve both of you of your miserable lives,” I warned.
“Her mother’s Cuban, right?” Luca turned to me.
I nodded.
“Catholic?”
“Yeah.” I ran my knuckles over my stubble.
“You should hire a Santeria priest,” Luca suggested. “You know, they’re kind of like psychics. Or mediums. Someone to connect with her spirit. Ask her what’s the holdup.”
I stared at him like he just suggested I fuck my own ass. He didn’t strike me as the spiritual type. People who slaughtered others for a living rarely were. “You gonna sit here with a straight face and tell me you believe in spirits?”
“I’m telling you that your wife might.” Luca’s eyes were hard on mine.
A half waitress, half escort plopped her ass on Luca’s thigh, grinning at him. She had deep cleavage and wore a black-and-white French maid mini dress.
“You know, I think I might be able to help.” Row rubbed the back of his neck. “One of my sous-chefs comes from a semi-celebrity family. His mom is a medium. A very popular one. She’s on TV and shit. Lives in Miami.”
“I want her number,” I said.
Row picked up his phone. “Texting him right now.”
“So, Tate.” Achilles drew my attention, signaling for service without even looking in their direction. Two waitresses bolted toward him like bullets, each taking a seat in his lap. “I have bad news.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“We’re transferring Enzo to another job.”
Fuck .
“How come?” I asked.
“He’s needed in Crimson Key.” Achilles ignored the two women, each kissing a side of his neck, until their mouths met one another for a passionate play of tongues.
Crimson Key was a private island, a stone’s throw away from southeast Florida. The Ferrantes had purchased it decades ago and turned it into a billionaires’ playground. A place to fulfil their shadiest and most debauched fantasies, a dark net of cities, a poisoned paradise for playboys.
“Give me a month,” I drawled. “By then, I’ll have brought Callaghan to his knees.”
“No can do.” Achilles shook his head. “There’s a mole on the island. Someone’s working with the feds. He needs to dig around and find them before shit hits the fan.”
“The rest of your men are too dumb.” I motioned to a waitress to bring another round of drinks.
The women entertaining Luca and Achilles were well into oral sex territory, all three of them slowly sliding down the table to pleasure their bosses.
I was far from a prude, but I also wasn’t a fan of making eye contact with a man who was getting his balls vacuumed while we spoke. “I’ll hire through a security company.”
Achilles shrugged. “He’s flying out on Friday.”
“That’s less than a week from now,” I seethed.
Achilles threw me a laconic once-over. “So the rumors are true. You are good at math.”
“Don’t worry.” Luca spoke with a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth. “I’ll tell Filippo to pay extra attention in the meantime.”
The Ferrante brothers eventually retired to fuck their escorts in the champagne parlor, and Rhyland and Row took the opportunity to remind me I needed to let Gia go.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Rhyland, whose saintly conscience was nowhere to be seen when he fucked older women for a living before he got together with Dylan, preached to me.
Tiernan had been too quiet for too long, and I was growing edgier. We were both sitting on the sidelines, waiting to see who would be the first to blink.
Luca and Achilles reemerged. Achilles looked suspiciously tranquil. I hoped he only fucked his employees, not killed them.
“Shall we?” Luca jerked his head toward the exit.
We slipped out of the booth, pushing through sweaty, perfumed, half-naked bodies grinding on the dance floor.
“Do you need a ride home?” Row turned to shout into my ear. He knew I asked Iven to stay outside the hospice in case Gia needed a ride.
I shook my head. “Brought my Ferrari.”
“You know, you can say thank you when someone offers to do you a favor.”
I pushed the heavy doors open. “Me having to spend more time with your ass negates the favor part.”
The five of us tore through the early spring air before my ears rang with a deafening explosion.
Blazing, suffocating heat scorched the edges of my face. Someone slammed into me midrun, yelped, then continued ripping through the pavement. Behind them, a few more people ran for shelter.
I turned my head to the source of the heat. Flames engulfed my Ferrari, which was parked across the street. The orange and yellow fire curled through the windows, climbing higher, dancing upward, reaching for the sky. Charred, black rubber smoke ribboned off the burning wheels.
“ Fuck ,” Rhyland rasped as a second blast erupted from the car. The doors flew, sailing through the air before dragging across the cement, landing right at our feet.
“Well.” Achilles stopped next to me, producing a cigarette and crouching down to light the tip with the still-burning flame that devoured the door of my car. “Guess we know what Tiernan’s been up to lately.”
“You either pay him or you gut him.” Luca clapped my shoulder. “But you should do one or the other in the next few days, because you won’t have the stomach for what happens next.”
“I’m guessing you changed your mind about that ride, Mr. Instant Karma.” Row looped his keys over his finger.
I gave him a curt nod.
In this game of Russian roulette, Tiernan was the first to pull the trigger.