Chapter 17
Matt
I don’t know if it was Aron or a random vandal who slashed my tires, but between that and the crushed phone, I find myself in a blind panic as I try to figure out how I’m going to stop the bloodbath that’s coming.
The parking lot of the motel is empty aside from my now useless car. I tried to borrow the phone at the front desk, but the motel manager locked his office for the night and won’t come out when I knock.
No phone to use. No cars to steal. I’ll never contact someone in time.
Why did I have to choose such an isolated place for my stupid fling?
As I march down the deserted highway in my rumpled clothes, I imagine I must be quite a sight to behold. All-powerful mafia don doing the walk of shame in the middle of nowhere, hair wet and pants sagging without my belt to keep them fit.
I’ll have to talk to my tailor about that.
I left Rico in the motel room. There’s just nothing I can do with his body right now.
Perhaps I can order someone to retrieve it later, once I’m back in civilization, but for now, he’ll have to stay put.
Somehow, I doubt the discovery of a dead body in that motel will cause too many waves in the media.
About twenty minutes after I leave the motel, a lone pickup truck ambles down the highway towards me.
I stop and wave, hoping they’ll pull over.
At first I think they’re going to keep driving, but then the truck’s brakes emit a loud screech as it jerks to a halt just ahead of me.
The driver shifts into reverse and guns the engine, and I have to sidestep to avoid getting backed over.
I rush to the passenger side door and fling it open—
—And I’m met with the barrel of a gun pointed right at me.
The driver wears a baseball cap and hooded coat, so I can’t quite see who got the drop on me, but the second he opens his mouth and mutters, “Get in,” I recognize the voice.
Jules.
What are the fucking odds? Not only did I think he died the night of the raid on Javier’s cocaine shipment, for him to find me on this deserted road …
Fate has not been kind to me tonight.
Since I’d rather avoid getting shot, I climb up into the truck and sit in the passenger seat. Jules jabs my shoulder with the gun and snarls, “Fucking buckle up, asshole. I’m bringing you to her, and I want you in one piece.” He chuckles evilly. “She’s sure to accept me back now.”
Great. Emily put a price on my head. I wonder if Aron knows about that.
After I’m buckled in, Jules peels out and speeds down the road, keeping the gun loosely trained on me.
“They all thought I fucking failed. Getting shot, Aron appearing to be dead, my secret somehow coming to light ... Imagine their surprise when I show up with the great Don Matteo wrapped up like a fucking Christmas present.”
Is he going to ramble on like this all the way to the Empire?
“They fucking laughed at me, you know. When I tried to go back. They called me weak, stupid. Well, they’re the stupid ones. They’ll see.”
I try to ignore him, hoping he’ll shut the fuck up when his monolog doesn’t get a response, but unfortunately, Jules is persistent.
“She’s going to be fucking ecstatic when I bring you in. God, you have no idea.”
Yeah, I’m sure. Emily will probably shit herself with excitement to have me at her mercy.
Of all the stupid, fucked-up coincidences in life, why did this have to happen to me?
I’ll never get the hit called off now, and while it would be to my benefit if Emily’s gunned down, Aron won’t be happy if Maria is caught in the crossfire.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a phone poking out of Jules’s jacket pocket.
The thought of snatching it and calling off the hit is tempting, especially considering Jules said he wants me in one piece, but then I remember that he could easily put several bullets in me and still consider me “in one piece.”
While he talks, I stare out the passenger side window, watching the scenery fly past with a growing lump in my throat.
Aron’s heading for a massacre. I ordered my men to attack every fucking Empire holding they could.
I wanted everything burned to the ground, starting with Emily’s evil ass.
I probably sent more men to her location than necessary, but I had to cut the head off the snake first. As long as Emily’s alive, the Empire is a threat.
She hates me. Aron can be reasoned with, as today’s encounter demonstrated, but Emily?
From what he tells me, reason doesn’t exactly come into the equation where Emily’s concerned.
God, I fucked up. I fucked up big time. If things go south, my men could kill Aron.
“Jules?”
He actually shuts up for a second at my interruption. “What the fuck do you want, Matt?”
“Can I use your phone?”
“Seriously?” Jules waves the gun wildly. “You’ve got the fucking nerve to ask for my phone when I’m holding a fucking gun on you.”
I try to stay calm. “It’s to call off the Syndicate. I’m sure your … benefactor would appreciate not getting shot or blown up.” When he just glares at me, I try another approach. “You can dial. Yancy’s leading the charge. Call him, put it on speaker. If I’m lying, you can shoot me then.”
“Wait a second … Where the fuck is your phone? Why do you need mine?”
Great. How am I going to explain that Aron smashed it before we fucked in the motel? “I dropped it. Broke the screen, can’t do a damn thing with it.”
Jules eyes me sideways, then stares back out at the road. We’re getting closer to town, closer to the chaos.
“Fine. One phone call to Yancy, then you shut the fuck up.”
He dials one-handed then turns it on speaker. The phone rings several times, making me worry Yancy’s either dead or otherwise occupied. Finally, he picks up with a gruff “What?”
“Call off the raid, Yancy. Tell everyone to fall back.”
“Don Matteo?” There’s shuffling on the other end of the line. “This is a really bad time to change your mind, sir. We’re in the middle of a standoff outside Don Aron’s safehouse. He’s already taken out more than half our team on the way here. If we back down now, we’ll look weak.”
“Did I fucking stutter, Yancy?”
“No, sir. Understood.”
He hangs up without another word, and Jules jams the phone back in his pocket.
“There. You wasted your one call, you know. The Empire will retaliate even though you did that. There’s no stopping her, not when she’s got her mind set.”
Jesus, Jules sounds fucking infatuated with Emily.
How did she even gain so much influence with Javier’s men—Aron’s men, now—in the first place?
She was a nobody in the underworld before Javier defected, just a random guard’s wife.
Something about that eats at me, but I can’t quite put a finger on it.
It’s wrong in so many ways, but there seems to be more to it than I can fathom right now.
Whatever it is, it could spell trouble for Aron. If the Empire is putting his wife on a pedestal, what happens if she loses interest in him or they have a marital spat or something?
I’ve got to find a way to tell Aron my concerns. Even if Jules plans on bringing me to Emily, there’s no guarantee they’ll let Aron know they’ve got me hostage, especially since Jules is all “she” this and “her” that. He hasn’t made one mention of Aron, who’s supposed to be his don.
Is Emily planning a coup of her own? That’s just what this city needs: another mafia split, another warring faction. Two organizations are bad enough, but three?
Then again, if Emily really has amassed this much power, she could conceivably take over the Empire altogether.
No split, no division. If she does, there won’t be room for Aron.
Our organizations operate under strict rules and chains of command.
We can’t have a couple ruling. That would just escalate into rivals playing the age-old game of pitting Mommy against Daddy, something that’s too divisive for a functioning leadership structure.
This whole thing has gotten out of hand. Javier fucked up a perfectly good reign, and now Aron and I have to clean up after him … only all we’ve managed so far is to muddy the waters even more.
Despite Jules’s claim that he’s taking me to Emily, his truck isn’t heading for the safehouse I know her to be holed up in. Where’s he going?
I’m tempted to ask, but I know better. Jules isn’t acting like himself, and I wonder if something happened when he took that gunshot wound at the docks.
Did a stray bullet hit him in the head after he went down?
If so, it would explain some of his weird behavior.
Maybe he’s confused about Emily’s location.
If I just got kidnapped by a brain-damaged goodfella, I’ll never hear the end of it.
As if answering my unspoken question, Jules veers onto a dirt road and grins maniacally.
“She’s going to be so happy I snagged you. She’s missed you, y’know. Couldn’t see you until everything was in place, but I think it’s okay to bring you now.”
He really is off his nut. “Emily doesn’t miss me; she’s never even met me.”
Jules laughs. “Who said anything about Emily?”