Chapter 17
POPE
The Hawkeye Club sign stands tall and proud—back where it should be. The repair Landon’s guys did on it are so good that I can’t even tell it ever came down during the storm, but I will never forget that sound when it slammed into the ground, seeing it laid across the road when the firefighters brought us out…or anything else that happened here.
That would be impossible.
Every moment is seared into my brain.
Every word Allie said to me.
Every confession she made.
All that anguish caught up in such a tiny woman.
It still blows my mind that she held in the truth as long as she did.
And this sign will be a constant reminder of what we went through together that night.
I pull into the club parking lot and glance across the street to where the giant oak once stood. Had that not fallen in Allie’s way, things could have ended up so different.
She might’ve made it to Nana’s safely and done what she always did back then by avoiding everyone’s questions, locking herself away in a bedroom, and living in her own fear.
Or it could have been even worse than that.
That fucker, Roselli, might’ve managed to track her down and intercept her before she got there, and then, who the hell knows what would’ve happened?
A chill rolls along my spine, imagining the possibilities as I climb from my car and lock it. The two cars filled with the security personnel who have become my shadows to and from every work shift park on either side of me.
They’re just doing their jobs, which right now means babysitting me when I’m not somewhere safe—like the club.
So, as soon as I walk in there, they’ll have a few minutes off.
But I’m not in any rush to get in.
The warm summer air heats my skin, the sun threatening to set on the horizon. It would be a great night to sit outside with a bottle of wine. Maybe after I meet with Savage and the guys, I can take Allie onto Isaac’s balcony and do that.
She deserves to really relax.
To go on a damn date.
Something I haven’t been able to do for her.
Fuck.
I run a hand over my head as I tug open the door and step into the club. The deep, rhythmic bass vibrates through the floors and up through my feet, making my whole body buzz. Spinning lights illuminate the main room and bar, with a single beam directed at the girl on stage wrapped around the pole.
The place is alive again, so different from the last time I was here when the hurricane seemed intent on trying to tear it down, brick by brick.
Christ, has it really been two months already?
My mind still doesn’t want to accept the fact that so much has happened in such a short period of time. Yet, it also feels like nothing has…
Allie and Benjamin have been in limbo.
Not able to move forward, but definitely not wanting to go back.
But if everything goes as planned, that’s all going to change.
Soon.
Byron waves at me from behind the bar, and I raise a brow at him and make my way over.
Leaning across it so he can hear me over the music and voices, I offer him a grin. “What are you doing here? You don’t work the bar anymore.”
He snorts and rests his elbow against it. “No, I don’t. But since Luca needed to be here for your meeting, I figured I would help out because we’re pretty busy tonight.”
I scan the club—all the tables full, people standing and leaning against the bar without any free space, waitresses hustling around with full trays.
“Is everyone here?”
He inclines his head toward the second floor. “Yep, just waiting on you.”
I glance at my watch. “Shit, I didn’t realize I was so late. I got stuck at the hospital a bit longer than intended.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waves me off. “They know what your schedule’s like.”
“See you later.”
He nods and watches me jog over to the elevator and punch the up button. It dings, the doors slide open for me right away, and I step in and hit the “2” to take me up. Leaning back against the inside of the cab, a vision immediately hits me of what Allie looked like doing the same thing that day I saw her at the hospital, the day all this kind of started.
She was so small, so scared, so shut down, so different from the woman who dropped to her knees and blew me before my shift last night.
The corner of my mouth twitches thinking about it.
I am finally starting to see the Allie I’ve always known and loved coming back. That broken, terrified, haunted woman isn’t her—shouldn’t be her.
Since the day she was born, Allie has always been a ray of sunshine, light and happy, seeking the things that ignite her joy and ways to bring it to others. It’s what made her so good at her job at The Grind and why the customers love her so much.
It’s why I fell in love with her in the first place.
She was always so bright, so inquisitive, so full of life and love—and I saw a glimpse of that old Allie who isn’t bogged down in pain and fear. Knowing I was part of the reason she ended up that way only makes me want to bring her back to that more. Once all this resolves, I know I’ll see her again.
The elevator dings, and I step out onto the second floor and stalk down to Savage’s office. Voices carry out what sounds like a tense, serious conversation that straightens my spine.
I step in and find Savage, Gabe, Luca, Stone, and Dad seated or standing in various spots around the office. My eyes immediately zero in on the empty couch—the first time I’m seeing it since I helped the firefighters get an unconscious Allie off it.
Savage huffs and points at it. “No one will sit there even though I’ve had it professionally cleaned.”
Everyone shares a chuckle, but the lightened mood doesn’t last very long, not with what we’re here to discuss. There’s only one reason they would call me here—Roselli.
Gabe motions to the bar near Savage’s desk. “Grab a drink before you sit. You’re going to need it.”
Fucking hell…
And I thought we were getting together to confirm that the first part of our plan is ready to initiate.
This seems far more ominous.
I release a heavy sigh and walk over, pour myself a bourbon, and take a seat on the couch, not afraid like everyone else. Dad chuckles at me from where he sits in one of the leather armchairs, and Luca offers me a hard smile from where he leans against a wall next to Savage’s desk.
In a full suit, he looks every bit the mafia don he used to be, which isn’t the norm for him these days. Since his retirement, he’s enjoyed a much more casual vibe—but not tonight. And after this recent absence, it raises the hair on the back of my neck.
Inclining my head his way. “Where have you been?”
It’s unusual for him to miss a family meeting, especially when we’re discussing taking down someone in his former line of work, but no one mentioned the fact that he was missing the other day at my place when we first met to lay out the plan. Or that he hasn’t been part of any of our discussions about the Roselli situation at all, really.
Luca takes a sip of his drink, crossing his feet at the ankles. “I have been around, talking with contacts, seeing what information I could dig up on Roselli and Satriano that might help us out of this mess.”
Which sort of explains where he’s been.
“Did you find anything?”
His lips twitch. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
I take a sip of my drink, enjoying the slow burn down my throat, then lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Somebody want to fill me in on what’s going on? Because I can tell you right now, Allie is not going to last much longer doing this. She can’t live in seclusion her entire life. It isn’t fair to her and Benjamin, and after what happened at my place, I don’t think we can wait to take Roselli out. He got to us there…”
Gabe sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Believe me, we know that, and we’re sorry it’s taking so long. I think everyone in this room will agree that we all feel like we have failed Alessandra by not being able to remove him sooner and free her from all this.”
All this pain.
All this fear.
All this uncertainty.
It will completely destroy the old Allie if we don’t do something—quickly.
I won’t lose her now that I just got her back. That brief glimmer of hope that she’s going to come out of this okay has to be stoked, not snuffed out.
“So, are we ready?” I look from Luca to Dad, Gabe, Stone, and Savage, who all wear far harder masks of concern than they should, even given how dangerous all this is. Something is wrong. “Has the plan changed?”
Luca bobs his head. “It has.”
I sit up straighter and turn to Dad. “What the hell happened? I thought we had decided on the best course of action when we all met…”
Stone nods, his hand tightening on the top of the cane he now uses. “We did. But what we discussed with the entire family was never the real plan. Luca has been pursuing a different course behind the scenes.”
Scanning the faces of all the men in the room, the sense of utter determination to accomplish the same task I want to stares back at me, but my blood still heats, knowing they all lied to us. We all sat in my living room and discussed how to get to Roselli and end things before he could follow through on his threat. “So, you all knew and lied to us?”
Savage’s lips press into a thin line, and he nods. “Yes, we did.”
I gape at Dad.
“I’m sorry, son, but we thought it was best to keep this information close to the chest. I promise you that we’re sure this plan is the way to handle the situation. There’s only one drawback.”
Shit.
Nothing is ever easy.
I should have known there was a reason they brought me here to discuss this and didn’t come to Allie and me at Isaac and Jack’s place.
“What’s that?”
Dad shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his broad shoulders tensing. “We need bait.”
My back stiffens, my hand tightening on my glass. “You can’t mean Allie and the baby?”
Dad scowls at me. “Of course not, son…”
He trails off and looks at Luca.
Luca stares into his drink. “I think I can get Roselli to come to a meeting with me, if I go alone. Ever since we learned he was Benjamin’s father, I’ve been distancing myself from the family and making contact with old business acquaintances to drop hints, suggesting that I’m not happy with my role in the Hawke Enterprises empire, that I might consider backing Roselli in his bid for his father’s throne. Even though I’m not in the world anymore, I still know people, and the Abello name still means something. My support would give him a sort of legitimacy he doesn’t have otherwise in his battle against both Francis Gilardi and Satriano.”
Holy shit.
What he’s really saying is that he would be the bait.
“But you’d have to go alone…”
He nods slowly. “I think Roselli is smarter than we give him credit for. He’s managed to stay safe for two months, with both Satriano and all of us looking for him. He won’t just walk into a trap.” Shaking his head, he pushes off the wall and walks over to the chair Stone sits in, resting one hand on the back of it. “I need to go alone. I need to determine what I can about his plans, make him think I’ll not only back him but also help him get to Allie and the baby.”
My stomach clenches, the bourbon I just drank threatening to come up.
Dad leans forward, catching my gaze. “We would be watching with hidden cameras, of course, and have audio, and the plan will be to follow Roselli after the meeting to his current base of operations so we can take him and his entire crew out there. It would be a controlled strike. Safer than setting a trap and hoping he doesn’t catch on to it.”
It makes sense, but it also means risking everything on Luca being able to convince Roselli of his hatred of the Hawkes.
“Shit, and you really think that’s going to work?”
Luca nods slowly, swirling his drink before he takes a sip. “I do. Roselli is young and determined, but he needs someone like me behind him if he has any hope of consolidating the power now split between him and Gilardi or of defending his territory when Satriano finally strikes. He’s desperate—and that desperation will work in our favor.”
“And if it doesn’t?” I look up at Luca—seeing both the ruthless don and the kind man who has always been an integral member of this family. “If Dan suspects you’re playing him?”
A tiny grin plays on Luca’s lips. “Then I guess I’m fucked.”
* * *
ALESSANDRA
Kennedyand Astrid lean over Benjamin on the play mat, tickling him and trying to get him to giggle.
I don’t have the heart to tell them that most babies won’t do it until they’re closer to three or four months old—plus, I’ve been enjoying watching them try.
Benjamin seems entranced by them, and it’s been so long since I’ve been able to actually just sit with them and hang out. With Astrid covering my shifts at The Grind and Kennedy busy with the hotel, especially after the emergency repairs needed post-hurricane, I’ve barely seen either of them since Pope and I came back from our “cabin” in the woods.
Fighting back tears, I smile at them. “I’m glad you both came over…I needed some girl time.”
Atlas throws up a hand from where he sits on the couch. “What am I, chopped liver?”
Astrid gives her brother the stink eye. “You are not part of this conversation!”
He snorts and returns to watching the MMA fights on Isaac’s big screen. “Good. Didn’t want to be, anyway.”
Even though I know he’s joking, his comment does needle me a little. Since we moved in here with Isaac and Jack, Atlas has had to step up and take on the babysitter role, moving into the rotation when Bishop, Gabe, or Saint are either downstairs manning the lobby or unavailable, having to handle other Hawke Enterprises concerns outside of keeping us safe.
It can’t be enjoyable for him.
Sitting around, doing nothing sure hasn’t been for me.
Kennedy glances up from Benjamin. “What time does Pope get off?”
I glance at my watch. “Oh, actually, he did a couple of hours ago. He worked a twelve-hour shift, so he should have been done around five. I wonder why he’s not back yet. He may have had a patient who kept him late.”
She scans the condo, blowing her blond hair out of her face. “And this is what you’ve been doing for the last two months, just sitting around, waiting?”
Astrid elbows her, her eyes wide. “Kennedy!”
The eldest of the Hawke cousins raises her hands. “Shit, I’m sorry. Was I not supposed to ask? I’ve been a little busy working on the hotel shit with Cass. And it’s not like we’ve been having Sunday family dinners since that asshole threatened all of us.” She offers a shrug. “We haven’t had a lot of time to catch up. I’m glad I was able to come over tonight.”
“You didn’t need to.” I smile at her. “Just because Isaac and Jack took Vivi and Giovanni to his parents’ house to see Aunt Nora doesn’t mean I’m not perfectly capable of hanging out here alone.”
Atlas turns on the couch and glares at me. “Seriously? Chopped liver over here!”
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m not going to sit with you on the couch and watch MMA, Atlas.”
Astrid raises a hand. “Neither would I, for what it’s worth.”
He gapes at her. “And I shared a womb with you.” Scowling, he turns back to the TV with an exaggerated huff. “Real nice.”
Kennedy scoops up Benjamin and inclines her head toward the kitchen. “Why don’t we go figure out dinner and let Atlas do whatever it is he’s doing by himself?”
“I’m studying this guy.” He motions to one of the two fighters pummeling each other. “He’s a great boxer. Moved into MMA, but there’s talk he might come back.”
Astrid raises a brow, suddenly interested. “Is he in your weight class?”
He nods. “Yeah. Light heavyweight.”
She narrows her eyes on the screen. “The dude looks huge for a light heavyweight.”
Kennedy and I move closer to get a better look at the guy in the blue trunks.
Atlas motions to him. “He cuts a lot for a fight to make weight. He probably walks at closer to 195-200 and then gets down during pre-fight camps and final cut.”
“Uhh…” Astrid snorts. “So do you.”
He smirks. “Yeah, mostly because of Nana’s Sunday dinners. Mine is lasagna weight. This guy is just naturally huge and a maniac. If he comes back and fights light heavyweight, I might end up having to face him.”
Astrid stands behind the couch, crossing her arms as she watches the TV. “But can this really tell you much? Fighting style in the boxing ring is totally different than an MMA ring.”
Atlas nods. “True, but I still want to watch him, try to figure out how he thinks in case I ever face him.”
She leans down and squeezes her brother’s shoulders. “You always were the smart one.”
He rolls his eyes at her. “Ha, fucking ha.”
Astrid elbows me playfully as we laugh and head for the kitchen. I turn toward her to ask what she’s in the mood to eat tonight when the balcony sliding glass doors shatter to our right. Something whizzes past her head and strikes the wall at the far side of the condo.
Two sharp cracks sound so fast we don’t even have time to react, more holes appearing in the drywall next to the first.
We all jerk away from the noise, whirling toward the now-empty door frame to see what caused it, too shocked to really process what’s happening.
Benjamin lets out a sharp wail from Kennedy’s arms.
Atlas jumps from the couch. “Get the fuck down.”
What?
It takes me a second to register his command, but I recognize that sound.
Gunshots.
Kennedy and Astrid drop to the floor, eyes wide and scanning for where it came from. I do the same, crawling toward them to pull a frantic Benjamin from Kennedy’s arms.
Atlas moves toward the window, keeping close to the wall, away from the open living room. Another shot cuts through the air and slams into the lamp on the end table only half a foot from us, sending the remnants scattering over us on the floor.
Glass and porcelain crunch under my legs as I shift and try to see out toward the balcony.
Kennedy glances the same way, the alarm evident in her gaze when she returns it to me. Given what happened to her the last time bullets flew around the Hawkes, her fear is warranted. “Someone’s fucking shooting at us.”
Not someone.
Daniele Roselli…
I fucking know it.
He may not be the one pulling the trigger, but this is all him.
My heart thunders against my ribcage, each breath getting harder to take, and Kennedy scrambles to get her phone from her pocket.
She finally manages to get it out. “I’m calling Bishop downstairs.”
“You girls stay down.” Atlas takes cover around the corner in the kitchen island and tries to peek through that window, but as soon as he sticks out his head, another shot collides with the marble, sending chips flying through the air. “Fuck.” He drops down, his wide eyes meeting ours. “I’m trying to see where the shooter is.”
Astrid glares at him. “Does it matter?”
“It does if we’re going to get the hell out of here.” He peeks around the corner again, and another volley of rounds tear into the island. Once they stop, he motions toward the door. “We’ll go for the SUV in the underground parking…”
Kennedy releases a little relieved sigh into the phone when Bishop answers. “Somebody’s shooting at us…I don’t fucking know…Atlas can’t figure out where they are…He’s taking us to the car.…Right…Okay.” She ends the call and slips the phone back into her pocket. “She said she’s going out after the shooter.”
I jerk my head in her direction, cradling Benjamin to me, his wails filling the eerily silent air now that the shots have, at least momentarily, stopped. “What?”
“She’s going to see if she can figure out where the shots are coming from. So”—she looks to Atlas—“she needs him to take a few more.”
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Atlas squeezes his eyes closed, flexing his hands like he’s preparing for a match. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He opens his eyes and meets mine with determination. “I’m going to step out long enough for him to take a shot while you three move for the door. I’ll keep him distracted. I don’t know where he is or what vantage point he has, so stay as flat to the floor as much as you can and move quickly. You got it?”
We all nod, and tears streak down mine and Astrid’s faces. Kennedy just looks fucking pissed. Benjamin flails, inconsolable in my arms.
Dear God, let us get out of this…
“On the count of three.” Atlas holds up his fingers. “One, two, three, go.”
Heart in my throat, I crawl, cradling Benjamin with my hands and trying to stay low, using my elbows to advance with the girls on either side of me.
Two more shots ring out, and Atlas releases a pained grunt. I whip my head back to see him with his hand pressed against his shoulder, blood already seeping between his tattooed fingers.
“Oh, God. You’re—”
“Go!” His scream tears through the air, and more shots ping off the metal balcony railing and slam into the couch, the coffee table, and the tile only inches from us. “Just go!”
Scrambling forward, Kennedy reaches the door and tries to unlock it, but a bullet slams into it, only a few millimeters from her reach. She jerks her hand back and hits the floor again. “What the hell do we do?”
Atlas crawls toward us, grimacing with each bit of progress he makes, leaving a bloody trail across the tile. “Get my gun out of my holster. Shoot out the lock and the handle, then we can pull it open faster.”
Shifting my position slightly, I manage to get my palms over Benjamin’s ears and turn him away from Kennedy, trying to protect him from the noise as much as possible.
Astrid grabs Atlas’ gun, her hand trembling as she points it.
Kennedy takes it from her. “I’ll do it.”
She aims and pulls the trigger, the bullet biting into the wood just under the lock. The sharp sound only further agitates Benjamin, and he squirms against my hold as she fires off three more rounds.
Atlas reaches over with his good arm and grabs the ruined handle, tugging the door open. A barrage of shots whizz above our heads as he ushers us out into the hallway, still crawling and staying low. The moment we make it to the side, he motions ahead. “Run!”
We have to get out of here.
Away.
Somewhere safe.
Because even if that shooter fails, Daniele will send others. For all we know, they may already be on their way up…
Oh, God.
My chest tightens, and that familiar darkness starts to creep around the edges of my visions, but Kennedy grabs my arm and helps me to my feet.
We all scramble toward the elevator, but Atlas shakes his head. “No. Stairwell. They could cut the power.”
Shit.
Even though the emergency generator should keep the elevator running, he’s right—we don’t want to be sitting ducks like we were in the condo if they somehow manage to kill the backup power, too.
He takes his gun back from Kennedy and leads us to the emergency stairwell, kicking it open with a booted foot.
Flashbacks of the smoke invading the one in Pope’s building only a few days ago fill my head. My throat burns at the memory of that escape, rushing down the steps with Bishop and Benjamin, not knowing who or what might be waiting at the bottom.
There’s no question now.
This has all been Roselli.
He knows how to draw us out of the places that are the safest, and this time, we might not be so lucky as to get away.
Benjamin’s screams echo off the metal as we descend.
Turn after turn, our heavy footsteps slam against each tread and landing.
Kennedy pulls out her phone again and keeps dialing on our way down. “I can’t get a signal in here.”
Astrid looks back at her from two steps ahead. “Bishop will call Saint. He’ll call everybody…”
For a split second, Kennedy’s steps falter and her lip quivers. “She’s not going to call Cass and Charlotte.”
The real terror in her voice makes my heart ache for her.
She loves that little girl as if she were her own, the same way Pope loves Benjamin. And I can see the panic in her eyes, the worry that she’s never going to see them again.
Where the hell are you, Pope?
The thought that his delayed return might be connected to the attack makes me stumble, and Astrid grabs my arm, holding me steady.
“We have to keep moving.”
I nod, trying to tamp down the rising panic as Atlas leads the charge until we reach the basement parking garage.
“Shh. It’s okay, buddy.” I rock Benjamin, trying to soothe him, but he knows something’s wrong, very wrong. The loud noises. The yelling. The sudden shift in the “chill” energy that surrounded him only moments ago. “Shh, I’ve got you. We’re going to be okay.”
The lie slips it out easily to a baby.
But everyone else knows we might be seriously fucked.
Atlas grabs the door handle with his bad hand, blood dripping from his arm to the concrete below. His gun raised and ready, he glances at all of us. “All right, I’m going out first. We have to cross half of the parking structure to get to the SUV. Keep your heads down in case there are any other shooters inside. Keep him covered and move as fast as you can.”
We all nod our agreement, and Atlas tugs open the door.
Run.
Just run!
I pump my legs as fast as I can, with Kennedy and Astrid at my sides, helping me keep moving when my feet keep catching and making me stumble.
Atlas skids to a stop next to the SUV and reaches under the wheel well, pulling out a set of keys and unlocking it. We scramble in—Kennedy in the front seat with him and Astrid and me in the back.
The engine roars to life, and Atlas glances behind us. “Everyone, get down.”
We all duck, lying against the black leather as Benjamin’s cries go on and on, even louder in the close space.
Maybe he knows what I do.
As soon as we pull out on the street, we’re exposed. At least, until we can put some buildings between us and wherever the sniper is. We’re far from safe at this point. The bullets may not have killed us, but—
A sob slips from my throat. Picturing Pope. Ang. Jude. Mom and Dad. Everyone. “If anything happens to me…”
Astrid jerks her head up, her teary eyes meeting mine. She reaches over and wraps her hand around my wrist, squeezing it tightly. “No, don’t.”
Atlas peeks at us over his seat as he backs the SUV out of the spot. “If anything happens to me, you need to either get to the club or the hospital. They’re both closer than any of the police stations and have armed security.”
He throws it into drive and peels away toward the rolling garage door, which starts to rise as we approach.
I hold my breath, waiting for what I can feel coming, and press my lips against Benjamin’s cheek. “I love you so much. It’s going to be okay—”
We pull out onto the street, and a shot instantly hits the windshield, shattering it and tearing through the armrest between Kennedy and Atlas.
Jerking away from it, I press myself down into the floorboards with Benjamin pinned against my chest.
Another shot shatters the back passenger window, sending glass falling over Astrid as Atlas turns and races off down the street.
A block passes.
Another.
We’re getting away…
Hope starts to bloom in my chest, but the final bullet enters through the back windshield…
And Astrid releases a sharp cry.