Chapter 23 Kingston
Kingston
I’ve been going through the motions since my dad died a few months ago from liver failure that threw my entire world from its axis.
I guess all that alcohol finally did him in.
After he passed, I stopped caring about life in general, let alone the family.
But as I left a satisfied Ace last night, her pheromones still lingering in the air, I found the potential for a new reason to get up in the morning. And it’s scary as hell.
With my knuckles taped, I pummel the punching bag as visions of Burlone filter through my mind.
In the basement of my father’s estate––my estate––there’s an in-home gym where I can usually be found when I need to work off a little steam.
And after my time at Ace’s, I need to work off a little more than that.
Diece and I are dripping in sweat as he holds the bag and yells at me for another cross, jab, hook combination. Finishing the move, my chest inflates for some much-needed oxygen while my knuckles flex and release to ease the tension in them.
“Not bad,” D notes. “You seem awfully chipper today.”
I quirk my brow but refuse to admit it’s because of my conversation with Ace on the phone an hour or so ago. “Chipper?”
“You get laid?” he continues, ignoring my ribbing.
D doesn’t give a shit that I’m the boss. That I could have him in the ground with a snap of my fingers if he ever offended me.
But as I roll my sore shoulders up and down, I shake my head.
“No?” he pushes. “Did Burlone fall into a vat of acid?”
A dry laugh escapes me. “Wrong again, D. You going soft on me? Losing your edge?”
With a narrowed gaze, an intense Diece considers me.
“Oh, so you want me to play hardball?” He squares his shoulders and stands to his full height, stepping around the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling.
The guy is built like a fucking grizzly, but it doesn’t stop me from lifting my taped knuckles to goad him.
“You are in a good mood.” Mirroring my position, he brings his fists from his sides up near his chin. “We haven’t sparred in months. You’ve been too much of a pussy to take me on.”
I snort before sending a half-assed jab his way. The big bear doesn’t bother dodging as I connect with his forearm.
With a laugh, he continues, “No wonder she wouldn’t sleep with you. With a punch like that? My grandma could take you down.”
I join in his laughter as D throws a cross hook.
Squatting low, his fists graze nothing but air before I cut upward with my clenched hands, connecting with his stomach.
A gush of air escapes Diece, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing a punch at my unprotected face and hitting me on my left cheekbone.
“Going soft, my ass,” he grumbles under his breath.
Seeing stars, I blink rapidly to center myself while raising my hands up protectively to block another shot. He does a quick cross, jab combination, bruising the shit out of my forearms when I see an opening and uppercut him in the jaw.
“Who said she wouldn’t sleep with me?” I throw out as he rubs his chin.
“You already told me you didn’t get laid, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re interested in Ace. No offense, King, but you’re not exactly a hard one to read. Not for me, anyway. What happened after you had your little chat about her entering the tournament?”
A frustrated groan echoes throughout the room as I rub my hand against my swollen face. D’s mouth tilts up in amusement before coming back to the conversation at hand. “Cat got your tongue, King? Or maybe it’s your little wild card that has you tied in knots.”
“Something like that,” I mutter. “She’s got history with Burlone.
Some of it was in the file you dug up for me before I hired her.
Some of it was new information. Hell, I’m not even sure she’s told me everything yet.
Regardless, she has her own reasons for wanting to go after Burlone, just like we do.
The only problem is that we have the means to do it.
Ace, though? She’s up shit creek without a paddle and has no idea. ”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Did you put eyes on Ace like I asked you to?”
“You mean the text at two in the morning, demanding she’s protected or you cut off my balls? That request?”
Laughing, I nod. “Yeah. That one.”
“Yeah. I got it done.” He walks toward the fridge in the corner of the room and grabs a couple bottles of water before tossing one my way.
When I catch it, he continues, “So you found out part of her history and have decided she’s worth one of your soldier’s time to keep her safe.
But you haven’t explained the chipper attitude. ”
“You and that word.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just answer the fucking question, King.”
His stare is pointed, but I don’t really know what to say. Why am I chipper? Because I got to second base like a kid in middle school and almost came in my jeans from a twenty-minute make-out session? What the hell does he want me to say?
“You care about her,” he accuses.
Dropping my head back, I look up at the ceiling. “I don’t care about her. I just….”
“Care about her,” he repeats. “Then let me lay this all out, King. She put herself in a fucked-up situation by putting herself on Burlone’s radar. I need to know where your head will be if she gets caught in the crossfire.”
My hackles rise as I give him a glare. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He returns it with one of his own. “I need to know if this mild interest in her is something that’s going to be happening for the foreseeable future, or if she’s just a fling when we both know you don’t have those very often.
Let’s be honest…when you do get laid, you sure as hell don’t wind up grinning for hours afterward.
We both know that men like us aren’t capable of real relationships, yet it looks to me like you might be toying with the idea.
I’m asking if it came down to her or the family, which would you like me to protect? ”
Shit. Count on D to call it like it is.
Steeling my gaze, I look him square in the eye. “Family first. Always.”
“Good. Because whether you like it or not, shit’s about to hit the fan in a few days.
I know I’m your right-hand man, and that I’m the only reason this family stays together,”—he smirks— “but I can’t be everywhere at once, King.
No matter how hard I try. And with the screwed-up situation Ace put herself in, I can’t guarantee her safety––along with Regina’s and our family––when we’re already spread thin as it is. ”
“I know you like to think the fate of this family lies on your shoulders, but it doesn’t.
We’re going to figure this shit out. We’re going to take down Burlone.
Regina’s going to stop throwing a fit and acting like a sullen teenager.
And I’m going to get laid.” Diece throws his head back laughing, and I give him a few seconds to give me shit before I ask, “Do we have everything lined up for the drop-off?”
With a towel thrown over his shoulder, a serious Diece responds, “Yeah. We should be good to go. Any chance you could convince Regina to stay home that night? It’d be nice to have Stefan there for backup and shit. We could use him.”
Nodding, I reach for a towel of my own and wipe the sweat as it drips down my face. “Yeah. I’ll talk to her. Any other issues with our men?”
“You mean since Vince wound up dead? Nope. Everyone is perfectly content with the current set up in the family, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
“Even though we might go to war with the Allegrettis?” I push before flipping the switch on the lights and blanketing the exercise room in darkness.
“Those pussies?” He waves me off as we walk down the hall. “Nah. They’re practically chomping at the bit to finally put those overconfident assholes in their place.”
“Good. Because their chance is just around the corner.”
“And they wouldn’t have it any other way.”