Chapter 24
Idrop my neck to the side, tensing it just enough so that it cracks.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Gideon says from the front seat. He lifts the Glock he’s been loading and slaps the magazine into place.
“I don’t think it’s true about cracking bones and arthritis,” I tell him, and do the same to the other side.
He shrugs. “Maybe not. But I knew someone that did it often. When I broke his neck, his bones were so brittle, it snapped like a twig. Didn’t even make it fun.”
Rowan, who is sitting in the backseat of the black Suburban with me, shakes his head. He gives me an apologetic look, one that says, sorry this piece of shit is my brother, but he’s the best I could do to help you.
It’s true. Gideon is a piece of shit. So was my brother. Maybe even more so because I don’t think Sean would be driving me, much less my friend, into the heat of battle.
If I see things that way, I can tolerate Gideon a bit more. Even his grating arrogance is easier to swallow.
I still want to kill him someday. Maybe break his neck and test out that theory of his. For now, I need him.
The plan we’ve formulated over the last two days is a nighttime attack using only the tunnels not revealed on the blueprints.
When I showed Gideon the true map of The Red’s underground, he was so giddy I almost regretted telling him at all. I could see the wheels in his head turning. I don’t know what plans he conceived of while he studied the layout, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
Seven of us enter the southern tunnel entrance, located two blocks from the casino. Another seven go in through the northern, eastern and western entrances, equally.
Once we’re in place, the diversion is set into motion. An attack right through the front door. Through the street surveillance system we tapped into, we watch the four vans that screech to a halt at the entrance. Twenty men, all armed, pour from the vehicles and pound through the locked doors of The Red.
Instantly, gunshots ring through the air as the attack is met with full force. I cringe with every burst, aware that my home is being destroyed. But hurting her is the only way to get her back.
I glance at Rowan, who is standing at the ready, his firearm in hand. Then at Gideon. He too is ready, fully armed, but dressed in a suit like he’s heading to a business meeting. Anyone that saw him would assume he’s some fashion model. I know better. He’s as deadly as any of us. Maybe more so.
Rowan peers at his phone. “Ten seconds.”
Nine. Eight.
My palms are sweating. My heart pounds in my chest.
Seven. Six.
I’m filled with the adrenaline I’ve chased for years. But it’s not the same. Not when someone is waiting for me.
Five. Four.
Thoughts of Andie fill my mind. Images of her in my bed. In my arms. Of her eyes on mine.
Three. Two.
Adrenaline is replaced with something more powerful. Longer lasting.
Determination. I have to see her again.
One.
We all burst forward, clearing the tunnels of anyone that may have accidentally stumbled into them, until all teams meet in the center of the basement. Then, we follow the path assigned to each of us.
Rowan leads several men directly to Club Voyeur, clearing each floor as they go. Gideon remains in the lower levels with his team, ensuring no one comes or goes.
I lead my group directly to my office. Because if I were Marco and wanted to feel like king of the hill, that’s where I’d go.
Getting there proves much harder than I anticipated. The men we encounter aren’t just Marco’s own, but mine. Men that know the layout almost as well as I do. Their familiar faces would make it difficult to dispatch them if it wasn’t for the guns pointing at me.
It’s a long way up the stairwell, but the elevators would truly be suicide. By the time we reach the thirtieth floor, we’ve lost three men to a downpour of bullets from above.
But the enemy is just as tired as we are. Fire seizes as we all stay close to the walls.
I drop my head back and grimace. My fucking foot is vehemently protesting anymore steps.
Another round of fire pinpoints on of the shooter’s location. The guard beside me, Tanner, nods and we move simultaneously to attack, sending a round of shots in his direction.
It’s a blind sort of attack, but it works. The man screams as he plummets from the upper level, past us, and slams into the ground far below.
“You good, boss?” Tanner asks.
I touch my shoulder where a bullet must have grazed me. “Fine. Keep going.”
When we reach the thirty-fifth floor, my suspicion that this would be used as home base is confirmed. Almost as soon as we exit the stairwell, Tanner goes down.
If we experienced a battle on the way up, what we encounter here is an all-out war. Men I hired myself, men I trusted to keep me safe, are against me now.
But there are vacillators. Guys that hesitate to shoot their own boss. And that is where we have the advantage.
As the fighting ensues around me, I head toward my office. I take out two goons on my way. Fools that brought knives to a gunfight, but don’t know how to use them.
However, the big guy blocking the doorway does. Him, I don’t recognize. Must be one of Marco’s additions.
I pull the trigger of my gun, only to discover the bullet is jammed in the chamber. “Fuck!”
He grins. “Your little gun break?”
“Yeah. Lucky for me, I got this.” From the holster on my side, I tug out my nine-inch blade.
“Ooh. Finally, some fun.” He tosses his gun to the side and pulls out his own knife. “Come on, then. Let’s play.” His grin widens and he motions for me to come to him.
I’m a good fighter. It’s what I did years ago. How I made my money. However, I know when I’m outweighed.
“Some other time,” I tell him as I slice my hand through the air, sending all my nine inches straight into his skull.
He takes a step forward, and for a moment, I wonder if it’s possible he could have survived the blow. But it’s just an involuntary spasm I guess, because not a second later, he slams into the floor face first.
I step over the puddle of blood that’s definitely going to be a beast to clean, pausing to glance at Mason’s desk, wondering if he made it out or if he’s dead. Or worse, if he’s one of the traitors. When I continue into my office and see who’s waiting for me, I stop dead in my tracks.
Sitting in my chair, is none other than the person who warned me not to trust anyone.
“Gustavo,” I say to the head of my security detail.
“Mr. Alexander. I’m glad you’ve made it here safely. I must admit, I’m impressed.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “You’re behind this?”
He shakes his head. “I’m merely a consultant.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Is Patrick in on this?” I demand.
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he surges from his seat and moves to stare out the window. “Do you know it’s been years since I’ve seen the sunlight? I mean, truly? I’m always here. Always protecting you.”
“You get paid well for that,” I remind him.
“Not as well as Alan Tyler. Remember him?”
“The Chaser?”
“You gave a thief money after he cheated you. Then that woman, Anderson, steals from you and you reward her with lavish gifts. Rewarding thieves.” He shakes his head. “I lost so much respect.”
“So that’s how Marco got in.” Gustavo was the man on the inside. The one with the security clearance needed. And like me, he hates thieves to the point of being unreasonable.
“He came to me with an offer to take over the casino, it made sense. I could do a better job than you.”
I laugh. “You honestly believe Marco would put you as head of the casino?” Not to mention the legalities of it.
“It’s what we bargained for. I secure the casino and finance his endeavors in Chicago, I get to run this place.”
“About that, I changed my mind.” A shot nearly deafens me, the heat of it warming up the air by my face, as the bullet flies towards Gustavo, hitting him between the eyes.
I spin to the sound of a familiarly weird giggle to find Marco Tadesco standing right behind me. The barrel of his gun shifts from where Gustavo was just standing, to my head.
His teeth glint in the light of the fireplace. “Somehow I didn’t believe you’d actually come. Gustavo told me you would, but I didn’t believe it.”
“I like surprising people like that.” I smirk.
“Not very smart. But it’s not you I’m after. Where’s Luca?”
Shrugging, I say, “My guess is in bed.”
He scowls. Then his lips curl in a snarl. “Where the fuck is he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“The alliance is here. They’re always here,” he insists.
“Not this time. Sorry you wasted your energy on this,” I say apologetically. “Turns out my cause wasn’t good enough.”
“Mother fucker!” He laughs and shoots another round, this one hitting the floor a few inches from my foot. “I want Luca Sinacore.”
“Don’t we all,” someone says from behind Marco.
He whirls, but too late.
Blood splatters across my face and I immediately begin wiping at it, far too disgusted to consider I might be next. When I finally look, I find Marco lying at my feet, his eyes relaxed and affixed on the ceiling.
Gideon comes to stand beside me, the smoking gun still in his hand. “Was it just me or was his laugh so fucking annoying?”
“It was annoying,” I confirm, rubbing my sleeve across my cheek.
“I hoped to question him some, but I’m not sure I could have sat through his confessions. C’est la vie.” Dipping his hand into his coat pocket, he pulls out two coins. Pennies. “One and two,” he says as he lays them over Marco’s eyes. “So you can pay the Ferryman when he takes you to Hell.”
There’s something about the way he says it that strikes me as odd. “I thought you were the Ferryman.”
He grins. “Who told you that?”
I frown, unsure what he means. But before I get to question him further, Rowan joins us.
“There’s something you need to see,” he says.
We follow him into Club Voyeur. Everything is exactly as it was the day of the explosion. It’s as if no one has bothered to clean up, much less begin repairs.
“My men found this.” Rowan opens the door to one of the offices to reveal several guards standing around a man and a woman.
“Patrick? Sheila?”
He’s leaning against the desk, looking worse for the wear. “Gavin, you’re alive?”
“But…” I look him up and down, noting that the suit he’s in appears to be the same one I last saw him wearing. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Gustavo happened. That dick had us locked in here for a week. I thought he had you too. Somehow, Marco got to Gustavo. Made him promises if he helped take over the casino.”
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” I assure him.
“Why? Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“Good,” Sheila says indignantly as she attempts to smooth her greasy hair. “And Gavin, I think it’s time you gave Patrick a month off. It’s the least you can do, don’t you think?”
I nod in agreement. “Take whatever time you need. Clearly it’s going to be a while before The Red is restored.” I look around at the ruins of what was once so grand. I’ll get it there once more.
“We’ll help you,” Rowan tells me. “While you re-establish security.”
“What I don’t understand is how Gustavo was able to turn everyone against me,” I say, working through my thoughts.
Patrick nods. “They did their jobs protecting the building. They just had no idea they were going against their own boss when they followed Gustavo’s orders. I’m not even sure they knew it was you when you came in. Chaos does that.”
“Yikes,” Gideon chimes in and Patrick finally seems to notice him. “What a fucking mess.”
Patrick straightens up and rolls up the sleeves of his dirty button down shirt as if he’s ready to brawl. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
Gideon arches a brow. “Are you referring to me?”
“Yeah, mother fucker. I’m taking about you.”
I lift my hand. “It’s okay, Pat. He helped us.”
“Yeah, Patty,” Gideon teases, his grin firmly in place. “People are so ungrateful nowadays.”
“The fuck?”
Patrick takes a step forward and I stand between him and Gideon. “Cool down, Pat.”
“Well, looks like you have a lot to sort through,” Gideon says coolly as he makes his way to the door. “Since I’ve held my end of the bargain, I expect you will too. I’ll be in touch.”
Patrick scowls as he watches him depart.
“I think you’ll need help with the cleanup too,” Rowan says, pushing over some debris.
“Thanks.” I nod.
We walk through the rubble, what’s left of Club Voyeur. Out of everything else in the building, it best depicts the chaos and destruction. I had only the best security systems, the best guards. But all it took was one weak man to create a crack in the walls the enemy could get through.
“How do I trust anyone again?” I ask Patrick. “I can’t trust anyone.”
But it’s his wife that answers. “You look at the ones that stayed through the battle. The ones that didn’t change sides or run the first chance they got. Those are the men you trust.”
I look at her for the first time, I mean, really look at her. She’s disheveled as fuck, her blond hair half sticking out of her up do, and her heels broken. The woman who I always believed held my second back with her demands of time with her, has been by his side through this ordeal, and from the trackless dirt smudged on her face I can tell not a tear has been shed. And now she’s telling me exactly what I need to hear.
“I’m sorry, Sheila,” I say to her.
“For what?”
“I wasn’t kind to you or Patrick. I just didn’t know.”
“And you do now?” he asks.
I think of Andie. Of her at home wondering if I’ll return. When I’ll return. I think of all the shit that has to be done here before I go, and all I want is to be with… What did Carina call them? My girls.
I think of how tired I am and how much I want to go home to where Andie and Lola are, even though it’s actually Rowan’s place. But they’re there and they’re everything. And the sudden realization that, even though I’ve lost so much, I finally have it all, takes my breath away.
“You okay, man?” Patrick asks.
In spite of the shit day, shit week in fact, I smile. “Never been better.”