ALESSIO #2
Audra is the woman Gabe has been obsessed with over the past few months. Stalked would probably be the better word. Went as far as having cameras installed to keep track of her. Turned out to be a good thing he did, too.
My brow lifts. "Oh? Wouldn't have pegged her for the type."
He huffs. "Yeah. She's full of surprises, that one."
He looks… different. Underneath the seriousness is… the same look Massimo has been sporting lately after reuniting with his teenage girlfriend and finding out he has a son. "You really like her?"
Gabe lets out a short, humorless breath and runs a hand through his hair.
"Like? Fuck, I wish it were just that." He looks like he does too.
Poor bastard. Being struck by love can be deadly for men like us.
Good thing I'm immune. I might get obsessed, but love?
Nah, someone like me is incapable of love.
I have the feeling I wouldn't even recognize it if it hit me with a ten-foot pole.
"Anyway," he continues, "she saw someone back then."
I have not the faintest idea where he's going with that. My old man runs with the Black Canyon Reapers, but it’s not like that’s news. "Oh yeah?"
"A woman." He hesitates, like the words taste bad. "One who looked like your mother."
The garage goes dead silent. The air gets sucked out.
For a split second, my mask cracks. Memories slam into me hard: my mother's crystal blue eyes the last time she looked at me, the slam of the trailer door, the smell of cheap whiskey, my old man's fists.
Eighteen years ago, she walked out and never looked back.
Left me with that worthless piece of shit who called himself a father.
The man who taught me violence before he taught me anything else.
I shove it down, ice sliding back into place. "My mother?" I repeat slowly. "Where the fuck did that come from?"
Gabe pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and holds up an image. "The eyes."
I look. The tendons in my neck strain as I fight to stay in control. Same eyes. Same tilt to the mouth. Anger boils under my skin, hot and ugly. "Where the fuck did you get that?"
"Does it matter?" he asks. "It's the same woman Audra saw."
I don't answer right away. I take a step back, lean against the same pillar he'd been using, and stare past him into nothing.
Rebuilding timelines. Piecing together ghosts.
My mother abandoned us. That's the story I've lived with.
The one my old man beat into me. But nothing in our world is ever a coincidence.
"So what?" My voice comes out flat, cold. "My mother ran out on me eighteen years ago. She must have been a lot of places since."
"Audra saw her six or seven years ago," he points out.
"Fuck."
One more time the air gets punched out of me, because… let's face it. Eighteen years is a long time to not show your face if you're still alive. I'd figured she was six feet under by now. Either by my old man or… life.
We stand there in the heavy silence. The weight of it presses down. If the Black Canyon Reapers are tied into this… if she didn't just leave…
"This isn't nothing." Gabe's voice brings me back into the here and now.
I tug on my tie. "What exactly did she say?"
Gabe fills me in on the bare bones of Audra's story. Not much, but enough. I listen, filing every detail away. Once I sink my teeth into something, I don't let go. Not even for him.
"We need to let Massimo know." Gabe straightens his suit.
"Agreed."
We head for the elevator where our men wait. Five minutes later, we walk into the meeting room. Massimo stares at us, eyes narrowing. "This is starting to become a habit, being late."
I meet his gaze, mask perfectly in place even as memories of my worthless father and the woman who left me rot in my chest. Beccs. My mother. The Collector. Everything is piling up. And I'm done waiting.
"I'm not as late as last time," Gabe defends himself with a chuckle.
I fill myself a glass of Stagg bourbon, the best there is, according to Massimo, and toss it back.
The burn grounds me some, not enough, so I refill the glass.
The meeting room feels heavier than usual tonight.
My mind is split; half is still chasing the ghost of Beccs, the other half is turning over The Collector's taunt like a knife.
"What's up, boss?" I ask, leaning back.
Massimo regards Gabe and me thoughtfully.
Trust is rare in our world, but we have it among ourselves.
Still, two capos meeting privately in the garage?
He wouldn't be Don if he let that slide without checking.
I decide to let him sweat it for a second.
Gabe catches my eye and nods. No sparkle in my gaze tonight. Not with everything piling up.
Massimo humors us and moves on. "It's time to put an end to El Recaudador." His voice cuts through the room like a blade. Final. No discussion. The air shifts.
Damiano leans forward. "Good. Took long enough."
Enzo nods once, sharp and silent. The sun's rays are muted through the tinted glass, and the shadows are playing one ugly game on Enzo's mug. The bastard has more scars than a whore has clients.
Massimo's gaze moves between us. "We've let this go on long enough. He's playing us, moving pieces behind the scenes, creating fractures where there shouldn't be any." A pause. "That ends now. I need—"
He was about to assign me point. I'd been ready for it, itching for it, even. I wanted to be the one to get close to that oily bastard, to play the mole and slit his throat from the inside. But after what Gabe dropped in the garage…
"I'm out," I announce.
The words land like a grenade. Silence explodes.
Damiano blinks. "What?" He turns to me. "No—wait, what?"
I don't look at him right away. Just pour myself another drink, calm as ever on the surface. Inside, my blood is still simmering with ghosts and questions.
"Sorry, boss," I finally glance up. "I'm out."
Damiano lets out a disbelieving laugh. "No. No, you don't get to do that." He points at me. "I had a whole argument ready. I was prepared to fight you on this."
A faint smirk tugs at my lips. "Sorry, bro." I lift my glass. "It's all yours."
Damiano just stares, offended, confused, a little betrayed.
Massimo doesn't react immediately. He looks between us, then sharply at Gabe. "Explain."
Gabe sets his glass down. "Audra used to run with an MC. Black Canyon Reapers." That gets everyone's attention. They know my old man runs with them. Enzo shifts. Damiano frowns.
Massimo's gaze sharpens. "And?"
Gabe glances at me. I don't meet his eyes. He gets the message. "Audra saw a woman there. Years ago. One she described in detail."
"Who?" Massimo grinds out.
Gabe doesn't hesitate. "Alessio's mother."
Damiano exhales slowly. "Fucking hell…"
Enzo goes still. Massimo leans back, studying me now with the cold eyes of a Don assessing a variable. I meet his stare, dead calm on the outside.
Massimo states, "She walked out eighteen years ago."
Gabe shakes his head. "Audra saw her six or seven years ago."
That's the part that matters. The part that changes everything. Massimo's fingers tap once on the arm of his chair, recalculating.
"If that's true," he agrees slowly, "that changes a few things."
"That's not a coincidence," Enzo adds quietly.
"Which also ties her directly into cartel circulation," Damiano mutters.
He's right, and with all the fucking emotions thrown at me today, I hadn't even thought about that.
But one of the Mexican cartels has been aligning itself with the Black Canyon Reapers, trying to take a piece of our pie.
We were about to put an end to that, right before shit hit the fan with the laced coke, murdered socialite, and then the bomb of Massimo having a son he had to go to Venezuela to rescue.
Massimo's gaze shifts back to me. "Do you believe her?"