Chapter 15
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Sniper nods, taking a seat on the bench beside me as he shovels a taco into his face.
We’ve made good time on our ride, but there’s only so much wind therapy you can get before bodily functions kick in.
Five hours in with a piss stop and something to eat isn’t too bad.
I would have pushed to go the final hour to Orleans but that’s when shit gets dicey.
Riding with my brothers is one of the best feelings in the world, but all it takes is one person not being switched on and all hell breaks loose.
Better to take a break, take a leak and get some sustenance.
Besides, it’s been a while since I last saw my brother.
“So, how's things at The Keep?”
Sniper tips his head side to side. “Getting there, brother. Businesses are all up and running, townsfolk are slowly learning that we’re the good guys after a fucking long line of bad. It’s…peaceful.”
I slap a hand on Sniper’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I’m fucking glad to hear that brother.”
He grins and it damn near brings a tear to my eye. I don’t know what they put in the water out there, but this is the happiest I’ve seen my brother in a long time.
“You sure Dima is gonna be able to help us?” Fox asks, taking a seat at the table next to Sniper and I.
“”Fucker probably already knows we’re coming, knowing him,” Dex says on a snort.
I shove my own taco in my mouth, and nod along. Dima is a creepy bastard but he knows his shit. So does his woman, from what we’ve heard.
“So, brother, I hear you have a potential Ol Lady.” Omen grins.
“You hear right. As soon as this shit is all over I’ll be giving her her patch.” My brothers whoop and slap my back so hard the taco in my hand shoots across the table only stopping when Damian stops it and shoves it in his mouth.
“You little asshole!” I growl at the Keep prospect.
“I think you mean big asshole,” Fox smirks.
“Either way, you owe me one, Prospect.”
Damian salutes at me, “I’ll take care of you, cher. Got a little spot in New Orleans makes the best gumbo you ever tasted.”
I eye him, not sure what to make of him yet. I know he and Rider get on like a fucking house on fire, which means he’ll be a pain in the ass. A taco lands next to me on the table and my eyes jerk up in time to see Justice step back as he dips his chin at me.
“See? That there is the type of prospect I like,” Tank says inhaling his food.
“Keeps you fed?”
Tank flips the bird at me and I chuckle as I finish off my food.
We still got miles to chew through before we see Dima, and the quicker I can get through that meeting, the quicker I can get home to my girls.
Sniper eyes me with a small smile on his face and I know he’s probably seeing what I see when I look at him. Contentment.
“Right, let's pack it in. We all got women we wanna get back to so let's go see what Dima has to say,” Dex says throwing his trash in the bin. “And let’s hope it’s not fucking creepy.”
***
“You sure this is the right place?” Omen asks as he eyes the little chocolate box cottage.
Damian whistles low as he takes in the outside. “This here fancy, like real fancy.”
“It doesn’t really scream ex-Bratva psychic.” Fox mumbles, brows pulled low.
“Are you gonna come in or just stand there all day?” A feminine voice calls out, dragging our attention to the small woman standing in the doorway dressed all in black.
“Is that a goth?” Justice asks, which surprises me because he’s been pretty quiet this whole time.
“Naw, I think it’s one of them emo types,” Damian drawls as he stands and waves at the woman on the porch.
Omen shakes his head and leads the way, not before dropping a kiss on the woman’s cheek.
I give her a nod, keeping my hands and lips to myself.
This woman looks as dangerous as Chewy and I wanna get back to my woman, not get gutted inside a cute little cottage in Orleans.
We file up the porch steps, then one by one make our way into the house.
The front room is tastefully decorated and the walls are lined with books, like a small library.
I have no idea what I was expecting Dima’s place to look like.
It wasn’t this and yet somehow it fits him perfectly.
A low whistle sounds out as the woman eyes us up and down.
“Phew, if I wasn’t already satisfied in all the ways a woman can be satisfied, I’d be wanting to mount a few of you.
” She gives us all a long look, up and down, “Maybe all of you.” She snorts before she spins on her black Doc Martens boots and skips off down the hall.
“Brothers, La Madrina.” Dex mutters.
“Or La Strega, whichever you prefer.” Omen grins.
“Wait, La Strega?” Damian says, brows jacked up to his hairline. “The La Strega?”
“You know her?” I ask.
“Cher, she the kind your maman warns you about. The kind come in the night and take you clean away.”
“Well, OK then,” Tank mutters, stomping down the hall, following La Strega or La Madrina or whoever the hell the emo woman is.
Shrugging, I follow after him, down the hall that looks as if it’s been decorated by an old lady, into a large room with oak panelling, and two desks.
One has the woman sitting with her feet up on the desk, the other has Dima, looking more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.
The darkness that seemed to cling to him is gone. As are the dark suits.
“I would say that it’s good to see you, however I know it’s not for a good reason,” Dima says, standing and moving to the front of his desk, offering his hand.
This is also new. The Dima I know is distant, stiff.
“Good to see you too, brat.” Omen says, knocking his hand out of the way and embracing him instead. Dima grins and pounds Omen on the back before greeting the rest of us.
“Sit, sit. My lovely lady and I have information for you.” We do as we’re told and all take a seat. Well all of us except Damian who stands spooked, in the corner.
“Information?” Dex asks, “So you’ve had visions?”
Dima tilts his head back and forth as he leans against his desk. “Visions yes, amongst other things.”
“He hears dead men's secrets.” La Strega wags her brows. “I gave him that little gift.”
Dima grins indulgently as his woman. “And I gave her the gift of sight.”
“Great, there’s two of ‘em now,” Fox mumbles.
Dex flashes him a look and waves at Dima to elaborate.
“Petrov is coming for the little girls. Three redhead and two dark.”
“Wait, what?” My head shoots up at that.
“No, he’s only after Addy, Bree and Kit. Hitchens has three daughters. Are you sure there’s two more?” Dex frowns.
“The fucker had two new orders placed. A brunette around three years of age, and black hair around two years old,” La Strega says, playing with a butterfly knife.
“He wants Laney-May and Little Bee,” Dima murmurs.
Scrubbing a hand down my face I let out a breath. This is not good. Marx is going to lose his absolute shit when he finds out and Chewy is going to go on a rampage.
“Anger will get you all through this,” Dima says, placing a hand on my shoulder and jerking me out of my thoughts. Fuck, I didn’t even notice him move. “Use the rage to protect your girls.” Dima’s dark eyes bore into mine before they lift and gaze around the room.
“He’s so fucking intense,” La Strega squeals and claps. “And, because I know my man thinks of you as family, he will go with you to defend your treasure.”
“Baby -”
“Go. They’ll need to know their secrets.” Dima nods once at his woman before he stalks across the room, yanking her up from her seat.
She wraps her legs around his waist and they start making out so intensely that I have to look away.
“Ah, we should give them some space,” Dex mutters as we shuffle toward the door.
A moan sounds out and we hustle even quicker out of the room, pinballing into each other as all us big fuckers try to escape to the reception room as quick as we can.
“Well, that was intense,” Justice says, running a hand down his face.
“What you expect from the Godmother?” Damian says, brow furrowed.
“The Godmother?”
Damian sighs as if he’s explaining things to toddlers. “She’s the head of the Mancini Mafia.”
Great. Just great.
Rhodie
“He’s gonna kick your ass.”
I ignore Gus and keep walking. I know exactly what my brother is going to do.
I’ve known him all my life and he’s stubborn as shit.
He’s also madly protective of his wife and kid but I need him to stay his ass in hospital and let us handle everything.
We’ve got the Keep, Roman and his men, and Dima working on this shit, we have enough men.
He just needs to concentrate on getting better.
“Hello, can I help you gentlemen?” A middle aged nurse asks, looking none too scared of the seven big fuckers who have darkened her part of the hospital.
“Yeah, we’re here to see Johnny Paxton. I understand he was moved out of ICU to another room on this floor?” I try to soften my voice and put on my best panty dropping smile, but she doesn't look like she’s falling for it.
Her lips purse as she looks me up and down and I can feel my patience start to wear thin.
“If you wouldn't mind letting us know what room Johnny is in, we’ll get out of your hair,” Tav asks politely and she smiles at him, because of course she does. Tav has some weird mojo with the older ladies. Or he did before he claimed Blanche.
“Mr. Paxton is no longer in our care. He discharged himself an hour ago.”
“What!?” I bark and Nurse Ballbuster doesn't even flinch.
“Excuse my friend, what he is trying to say,” Saint says, throwing me a look over his shoulder, “is how did Johnny manage to discharge himself? He was shot only a few days ago, and had a rough time. We thought he was meant to be here for a few more days.”
“You would think correct. That stubborn man barked at staff then threatened the attending doctor until we let him discharge himself,” she says with a bored look on her face.