Chapter Twenty-Three
Marco
DANTE’S SQUEALS of joy as he jumped into the pool made him smile to himself. He was watching Dante from one of the sun chairs, a book in his lap that he was far too preoccupied to read. His phone buzzing had him grabbing it off the side table before it fell off. It was a text from Neil. An address. His phone ringing the next second didn’t surprise him. He took a deep breath before picking up.
“You found him?” he asked by way of greeting.
“I did,” came Neil’s voice, dark and husky.
Marco repressed a shiver.
“Don’t do anything rash,” Neil said, making Marco snort. “I mean it, Marco. Wait for me. I can be there in a few hours.”
Hours, huh? He’d left Baltimore. Why?
“Where are you?”
Neil’s hesitance told him that whatever came out of his mouth next would be a lie.
“Marco…”
“Oh, fuck you,” he snapped and hung up.
He sat there, bristling for a while until he got hit by a floatie. He blinked, focus changing to Dante who had a mischievous look on his face, elbows on the edge of the pool. Dante always knew how to get him out of a funk even if the kid probably didn’t know he was doing it.
He grabbed the crocodile floatie and pretended that it was trying to eat him, making a big show of falling off his sunchair to make Dante laugh. He threw the floatie back into the water to Dante, wondering who he’d gotten this one from. Neil or Rome?
Speaking of Rome.
He grabbed his phone and called him, telling him to get his ass home. It didn’t take long before Rome showed up but his getup had Marco’s brows hitting his hairline. Rome in a T-shirt and jeans wasn’t something he was used to seeing. Someone had been too busy to go home and change. Whoever the guy was, he had to be special. Special enough that Rome threw caution to the wind when he was with him. If that was a good thing or not, he didn’t know. Not yet.
“Did King call?” Rome asked.
Marco sat up and put his book on the side table. He pushed his sunglasses up and met Rome’s gaze. “No. Neil did.”
Rome’s lip curled and he was certain the man was unaware. It made him smile.
“What?” Rome grumbled.
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
Rome let out a grunt and sat down on the sun chair next to Marco’s.
“You know I don’t.”
Marco sighed, then said, “He found the little fucker.”
“Don’t tell me,” Rome drawled. “He’s close?”
“Been right under our fucking noses the whole time,” he growled.
The address was close. Way closer than he felt comfortable with.
A phone ringing had Rome arching a brow at Marco who glared at him for a second before letting out a sigh and grabbing his phone. It was King.
Marco groaned. “I have to take this.”
He headed inside, leaving Rome to watch over Dante. He’d get him out of the pool and showered. Babysitting wasn’t a part of Rome’s job description, but he did it, nonetheless. He was grateful for Rome. Fuck, he didn’t know what the fuck he’d do without him.
He’d sent his usual security home, not wanting anyone in his house he didn’t trust as much as Rome. Neil wouldn’t be happy about it, but he didn’t care. At least that was what he kept telling himself as he tried to ignore that voice in the back of his head that told him otherwise.
He picked up the call as he stepped into his office.
“King.”
“Serrano,” King said. “I appreciate you reaching out.”
Marco didn’t even try to hold back his snort.
“No, you don’t.”
There was silence for a few seconds and then came a deep sigh.
“No, I don’t. Look, I respect you. I always have. But this is the kind of mess I want to keep my people out of,” King said and took a breath. “Either way, I put it to a vote.”
“Let me guess? Unanimous no?”
“I’m sorry,” King said, and Marco actually believed he was. Sorry that things weren’t different. That they weren’t truly on the same side. It didn’t lessen the sting of rejection.
Low voices had him looking toward the door. Rome and Dante. Their voices got lower so he figured they were heading upstairs to Dante’s room so he could get out of his swimsuit.
“I get it. You don’t want to get involved with my shit,” he said, trying to remain diplomatic though anger was starting to burn inside him.
“We’ve had a lot going on the past year. I can’t ask more of my people, especially for―” King cut himself off, but Marco knew what he was about to say; for him . For Marco Serrano. The Kings had gone clean years ago, no matter what that one percenter patch on their cuts said. They weren’t in the trade anymore, but he knew they could still get down and dirty if their loved ones were involved.
“Like I said, I get it. Thanks for putting it to a vote.”
He hung up, then cursed and threw his phone at the wall.
“I take it the Kings won’t be helping us, then?” Rome said from the doorway.
“Whatever gave you that impression,” Marco drawled.
Rome sighed and bent down to pick up Marco’s phone, handing it back to him just as both their phones went off.
“Is that…?”
“The alarm,” Marco breathed.
The perimeter had been breached. They were here.
“Take Dante,” he said to Rome. “You know what to do.”
“My job is to protect you .”
“You’re the only one I trust with him.”
Rome gave Marco a sharp nod before turning on his heels and running out of there. Marco took a deep breath, then walked to the cabinet. He opened the doors, revealing the hidden safe there, and typed in the code. The panel slid to the side, revealing an array of weapons. His lips quirked at the corners as he reached for an assault rifle.
If they thought it’d be child’s play to come onto his land and into his home, they were wrong. Oh, so very wrong, and they were about to find out just how wrong they truly were.
He walked to the window and opened it just enough that he could fit the rifle through the space. The alarm had told him exactly where they’d be coming from. They thought they were smart coming from the wooded area around the back of the house? They were about to get a nasty surprise. They would have to step out of the safety of the trees to make it to the house and once they were all visible, he started shooting, taking them out one after the other.
Only a few of them got off some shots toward the house and, fortunately, they were aimed at the first floor and not the second where Dante and Rome were. He had to duck under the window when a few of those shots came too close for comfort.
“Fottuti stronzi,” he hissed.
He took a breath, then moved back into position. He only saw movement by the pool house and the second the man walked closer, he had two bullets in his chest.
Marco smiled though it was short-lived. He heard gunfire from inside the house and cursed, pulling the rifle back and walking to the cabinet to switch it out for a handgun. It would be easier to use in close quarters. He grabbed a spare magazine and slid it into his back pocket, then closed the safe and headed to the door, gun at the ready as he made his way into the hallway.
He had a clear advantage compared to Alvaro’s men. He knew this house inside out and he wasn’t afraid to get blood on his floors. In fact, he’d been itching to do some killing.
Footsteps going up the stairs had him moving faster. He wasn’t about to let those fuckers anywhere near Dante. He knew Rome and Dante were probably already in a car driving away, but that wasn’t going to stop him from killing these bastards for wanting to hurt them.
He reached the end of the hallway and put his shoulder against the wall, his view of the staircase showing three men moving up the steps. He took the first shot, sending one man falling down the stairs, and then moved back into a doorway. He dropped low when the gunfire started and once there was a break and the sound of footsteps getting closer, a smile found his lips.
The shooter didn’t make it very far before he had a bullet in his leg. Marco lifted his gun higher and pulled the trigger, the man’s head jerking back when the bullet hit him between the eyes.
No one else came. No more bullets came either, so he continued through the house. He moved into the living room and stopped, listening for more footsteps or gunshots. All he got was silence.
He lowered his gun an inch and turned around to head upstairs. He caught a flash of movement in a window reflection and dropped to his knees, spinning around to fire his gun. Something burned. It was a quick flash of pain that he ignored in favor of emptying the magazine in his gun, riddling his attacker with bullets.
Once his gun clicked, he drew in a deep breath and pushed to his feet, clicking the release on his gun to let the empty magazine fall out so he could replace it with the one in his back pocket.
He went through the house slowly and meticulously. He had just checked the kitchen when he heard a groan. He raised his gun and made it down the hallway where he found a man on the floor. He cursed when he saw Marco and tried to reach for a gun that was lying a few feet from him. Marco kicked the gun away, tsking when the guy tried to crawl away from him.
“Alvaro fucked up,” he said, his disdain for the man clear in his voice. “Both Alvaros fucked up, but coming into my home? Going after my family? Oh, he has no idea what he’s done.”
Nothing was going to stop him from taking Alvaro out now. Not the cartel. Not Neil or Cade. Not even Rome. This fucker had it coming now. No one hurt his family and lived. No one.
He aimed his gun at the back of the man’s head and fired, grimacing at the blood and brain matter splattering all over his floors and walls.
“That’s gonna be a bitch to get clean,” he muttered.
With a sigh, he walked back to his office. He opened the cabinet and grabbed more magazines as well as the rifle. If a war was what Alvaro wanted, that’s what Marco would give him.
He had a look at his left side, the blood there was already starting to dry. It was barely a scrape. He’d gotten lucky. He didn’t bother changing his shirt before leaving. He had clothes in his car. They would do just fine. He was most likely going to get a whole lot bloodier very soon anyway.
He made his way to the garage, unsurprised to find the garage door open and one of the cars missing. He grabbed the keys and got into the car, jerking it into first gear, and then he tore out of there.
He pulled out his phone, his heart doing a weird squeeze when he saw the multiple missed calls from Neil. He pressed the call-back button, and the phone barely rang before Neil’s voice was in his ear.
“Are you okay? Someone set off the alarm.”
Why the man’s worry felt good, he wasn’t about to dig into.
“You tapped into my alarm system?” he grumbled at Neil.
The sigh at the other end held both relief and annoyance.
“Of course, I did. Are you kidding me? Please, tell me you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. The cleanup’s gonna be extensive, though.”
“Good,” Neil said, a note of pride in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll send someone.”
Marco huffed, “I’m not worried about that. I need somewhere to go.”
Neil was silent for a beat.
“Your own places are compromised,” Neil mumbled.
“Yeah,” he said, voice strained with the anger he felt.
Compromised. That’s exactly how he felt.
“I’ll see what I can do but I’m a bit low on favors at the moment,” Neil said, sounding pissed about it.
Low on favors was new. What the hell had the man done to fall off his pedestal?
“I’ve got a safehouse I can lay low at for a little while. Only Rome and I know it,” he said.
Neil’s low hum sent a flash of anger through him. Fucking spook.
“You know about it, don’t you?”
“I do. I’m on my way but it’ll be a few hours still.”
“I don’t need you here,” he snapped before he could stop himself.
Neil’s whispered, “I know,” hit him square in the chest, almost hurting as much as the beeping after Neil hung up.
Fuck.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
He hadn’t been at the safehouse for long before Rome found him along with two Kings, a woman who watched him with a mix of curiosity and caution, and Juno who’d been at his meeting with the Kings. Why they’d come, he wasn’t sure. According to Rome, the Kings still didn’t want to be involved though they’d agreed to keep Dante safe. He knew Rome wouldn’t have left Dante in King’s hands if he didn’t believe he would be safe, so at least there was that. As much as it hurt to be apart from Dante, to not be the one keeping him safe, he needed to end this. Preferably right now.
He’d cleaned his wound and stuck a patch over it, then put on a clean shirt. They’d left the safehouse to go to the address Neil had given him and he was holding the curtain aside as he stared out the window at the house across the street. The man he needed to kill was in that house. They would be moving in as soon as they had a plan in place. He wasn’t paying much attention to the others, though from the pieces of conversation he caught, he knew Juno was trying to talk Rome out of doing this. He didn’t weigh in because he knew that wasn’t about to happen.
“I’m not here to watch you die. This is suicide,” Juno said, disbelief in his voice.
Marco turned just in time to see Scar cross her arms and say, “I agree.”
A flame of anger lit inside him, and he couldn’t help but snap at them.
“If you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to leave.”
Juno’s glare had him looking back out the window, trying to get a hold of his temper. He knew Neil’s info was good, but Juno wasn’t wrong. They didn’t know what they were headed into, but he trusted Rome to have his back. He trusted that they’d get the job done. They had to. For Dante.
“You should go,” Rome said.
“No, we―”
Rome cut Juno off, saying, “Your club decided not to help. You should honor that.”
“But―”
“It’s all right. We understand.”
Marco did understand. All too well.
Scar huffed, then said, “Well good luck, guys. As much as I like blowing things up, this is fucked, and I’ve got too much to live for. Sorry.”
Marco turned his head to look at her. “Don’t be. This isn’t your fight. I shouldn’t have gone to King for help.”
Another regret he could add to his ever-growing list.
Scar and Juno walked out of the room, and he frowned when Rome followed, then he looked down at his phone, unwelcome thoughts of Neil entering his head. He could still hear Neil’s voice in his head. That ‘I know,’ was seared into his fucking brain and he didn’t know what the hell to do with it. His heart burned and he fucking hated it.
Most days he wished he’d never met Neil. Then there were these small moments where he remembered the rush of love, the way Neil could make him smile like no one else. How he’d felt safe. Until he hadn’t.
He clenched his jaw tight and straightened, turning when he heard the snick of the door closing. Rome stood in the middle of the room, looking lost for a moment before he came to stand next to Marco at the window.
“You ready for this?” Marco asked.
“Fuck, yeah,” Rome growled, a hint of the deadly man he knew peeking through that carefully crafted mask he usually wore.
A smile slowly spread on his face.
“Let’s go kill this fucker.”