Dark Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 1) (22 page)

He was the new sheriff in town, and with the FBI director, they were taking down the animals their way.

By animals—he meant the Crofts.

“They’re guilty. I know they are. After what she did to me at that press conference, I’ll hang her bitch ass out to dry. This isn’t over, Ford. Get me a confession even if you have to fix the recording. They didn’t mind doing that to me. I say one good turn deserves another.”

And that was what he needed.

It was done.

“You want me to lie and trick her?” he asked, trying to get the man to hang himself even more.

“YES! Have I not made myself clear? You do whatever it takes to get her implicated in this. If we nail her, that asshole husband of hers will take the fall to protect her. I don’t care at this point, but someone has to pay. The media needs to hang someone!”

And Chris was all set.

“You know what, Commissioner, I’ve noticed something. You’re more interested in nailing an innocent person to the wall than finding the truth. That’s not how we do our jobs here in the city. We’re the law. This is exactly why the city is going to hell in a handbasket. Shitty cops who don’t follow the rules are making it hard for decent cops, like Emma Croft, to do their jobs.”

He looked appalled.

“You can’t talk to me like that, Ford. I own you.”

Chris laughed.

That was about to be the end of his reign of tyranny.

“Yeah, you owned me for the last week. I’m done. I’m not being a dirty cop for you. Emma was right when she ratted you out to the media. You and your minions are gunning for good people. I’m not going to be part of it. You can kiss my ass.”

“Then you’re fired.”

Chris laughed even more. “Yeah, you can’t fire me. I have a spotless record. It’ll take you weeks to drum up enough lies to sully my title. By then, it won’t matter.”

“Why’s that, Ford? You’re pretty cocky. I can have you out of that office in two days. I can make sure you’re taken down just like the Crofts.”

He pulled his gun.

The man looked scared.

“Relax, Jeffrey. I’m not going to shoot you. I’m unloading my gun. Want to know why I’m unloading my sidearm? That’s an easy one. It’s because I’m turning it in along with my badge. I quit. I’m not framing Emma Croft because she had the balls to stand up to you. I’m not recording her in my office to make her look bad and to frame her husband. I’m not being your fucking lapdog. It’s over. You can find someone else to do it, and when you do, you can watch your back. The Crofts are taking down all the crooked people in this town. Don’t be shocked if you find out that you’re at the top of their list.”

“They have nothing on me.”

Chris dropped his badge on the desk.

It was the second hardest thing he’d ever had to do. The first was pretending to turn on his family.

“I’m ashamed to wear that in this city. It’s tarnished by your bullshit. Greene ruined that office, Thomas Booker let his wife run roughshod over this city, taking out innocent people in her wake, and now there’s you.”

Commissioner Raye actually looked shocked, and that amused Chris. It wasn’t over. Before this little conversation was done, he’d see how deep the shit pile was around him.

Chris was glad.

There wasn’t a better person to wallow in it.

“The problem isn’t Emma and Greyson Croft.”

“I’m cleaning up this city. The crime rate is down!”

Chris laughed at that.

“For the record, the only reason the crime rate is down is because Greyson Croft’s reputation precedes him. The criminal element is afraid of him. It had nothing to do with you. You, Commissioner, are a joke. They’re not afraid of your pansy ass. They’re afraid of the Croft family, and they should be.”

Raye turned red.

“As for the issues happening in this city, it all stems from one place, and that’s your office, Commissioner. I’m going to make sure the world knows you’re pulling the strings behind this department. I’m going to make sure they all know you blackballed two people who didn’t have anything to do with those crimes, just because you were embarrassed on television. That’s retribution, and that’s going to get you in a shitload of trouble. I smell a huge ass lawsuit. I think you made the Crofts even richer.”

Chris made sure the man was paying attention as he flicked the recorder off on his collar.

Raye looked shocked.

Yeah, he’d been recorded again. Dante Croft wasn’t the only one who could play this game.

“Oh, no!”

He laughed. “Oh, yes. That’s the problem, Jeff. You’re not smart enough to run this office. How do I know? I ran it. I know what it takes to be commissioner. You haven’t a clue about the dedication, sacrifice, and honor it takes to be head cop in this city.”

Jeffrey Raye looked pissed.

Well, it was about to get worse.

“When I’m done, I’m coming for you, Commissioner. You fucked with my family and worse of all, you hurt my sister. I’m going to bury you, and I won’t wear a badge when I do it. Watch over your shoulder, Jeffrey. This is far from over. I’m going to be bringing backup.”

The man was turning green.

The magnitude of everything was beginning to settle in, and he realized he was in a really bad situation. There were now two recordings of him breaking the law.

Yeah, someone was going to have a rough couple of weeks.

Chris went to attention, sarcastically saluted the man, and then walked out, leaving him behind.

Now he had to get to Terrace Glen with the recording. It was time to fix the rest of this mess.

Ford was pretty sure he was a marked man, but he’d rather die for his family than serve the man in that room.

He loved the Crofts.

Screw it.

If Emma forgave him, he’d become a fucking Croft.

He’d serve the family. They were going to be the only law in Vegas when all of this was done.

 
         
* * *
  G r e y s o n   C r o f t   * * *

Hospital

Private Room

Outside Steele’s private room, Dante and Paris discussed the options. He needed to take care of this, and soon. He didn’t want to leave Steele in the hospital one more night.

Word was circulating that something was going on, and he didn’t want the rumors to begin again. After Steele was taken, abused, and nearly killed, the media had a field day with it.

Some rag tabloids said he was asking for it, having an affair with Dominic Marianna.

It had made Dante mad, and he wanted to kill, but Greyson wouldn’t let him. He pointed out that the paper also saw Elvis at the Bellagio eating snails.

He’d be eating peanut butter, bacon, and banana sandwiches—not garden slugs. There was his proof that they didn’t have a damn clue.

So, he kept his calm.

“What can I do?” Dante asked, keeping his voice to a whisper. There was a suspicious man at the end of the hall watching him. Dante was pretty sure he was taking pictures of him and Paris.

Yeah, there was no doubt he was going to sell them to the tabloids for his payout.

“Well, he needs to be somewhere safe. He’s not doing well here. I think it reminds him of what happened right after the incident.”

“You mean the rape. You can call it what it was. I don’t like sugar coating shit.”

Paris touched his arm. “While admirable, he needs sugar coating right now. He needs the family to rally around him and keep him safe. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but your anger won’t solve this. Family will, Dante.”

He took a deep breath.

Dante could do this.

“Can he go to Terrace Glen? That’s the safest place. At his condominium, he’ll be chased by those same demons.”

“I can get him signed out in my name. If he’s going there, so are Tessa and I. I’ll need to make sure he doesn’t relapse, trying to get drugs or hurt himself.”

He wouldn’t let that happen.

Steele wasn’t going to be a victim anymore. He was going to protect the man he loved.

“I’ll be his drug. I’ll get him through this.”

Paris didn’t doubt it.

“Can we crash at your place?” Paris asked. “Do you think Emma and Grey will mind?”

“Do you need a psych evaluation, Paris? Seriously? Do you really think you need to ask? You both can crash there anytime you want. Besides, isn’t tonight Italian?”

It was.

Paris loved Saturday night dinners.

He was going to carb load, stuff himself silly, and then roll himself right to a luxurious bed.

Yeah, he lived an exciting life.

“I’ll get him signed out in my name. I’ll tell him he’s going to a private clinic paid by his fiancé, and we’re not revealing the name because of the media free-for-all.”

Dante knew how blessed he was to be part of Greyson’s circle of friends. Not once had any of them treated him or Steele as if they didn’t belong.

“It won’t be a lie. He’s going to marry me, Paris. I’ll make sure we’re walking down the aisle.”

He got it.

At one time, Paris was in Steele’s position. He could offer the man some words of wisdom.

“After I was shot, Dante, I didn’t want to let Tessa in. I thought she was simply sticking around because of pity and that she felt sorry for me. I saw it as babying me because there’s a fine line. You need to be gentle, stern, and loving. I suggest you don’t give him a choice. Make Steele see that he is still the man he was before, and that you don’t care about what happened. He’s still the same to you.”

“I can do that because it’s true. Thank you, Paris. I love you and Tessa for always having our back. I know sometimes it has to suck to be tied to us.”

He laughed. “Now it’s you who needs the psych evaluation, my friend. Family sticks. Tessa was abandoned, and my parents don’t live near here. You are our family. The Crofts made us feel wanted, and we will have your back.”

Paris saw the emotion and pushed himself up from his wheelchair.

Immediately, Dante hugged him. It had been a long two days, and he was so overwhelmed with everything that Dante broke down.

Paris hugged him.

He knew how he was feeling.

They’d all been there.

“It’s okay, Dante. We’ll help you through it. I’ll see Steele for therapy right at Terrace Glen. I’ll work with him until he’s better. We’ll fix him. Love can fix anything. I’m proof of that.”

Dante hoped he was right.

He didn’t want to lose Steele again.

It had been a miracle that he’d survived the first time, and now he was going to fight damn hard to keep him in their lives.

He was worth it.

Had Emma not gone there…

They’d be planning the man’s funeral, not his recuperation. This was his sign that he needed to get his ass moving and take over the situation. Steele was going to have to accept that he wasn’t in control for right now. His perception was skewed, and he needed help.

Dante’s help.

The Croft family’s help.

“I’ll get him released, Dante, but we have a huge problem to worry about.”

“What?” Dante asked, pulling away from the hug so Paris could return to his chair. He was getting wobbly.

“We have to find a way to sneak him out of the hospital and get him to Terrace Glen. That’s going to take military precision at its finest.”

Oh, Dante could do military in his sleep.

He had an idea.

“You do your thing, Paris, and I’ll do mine. Money can buy you just about anything in Las Vegas.”

“I don’t think hookers will distract the media for long,” he said with a straight face.

It took Dante a second to figure out that Paris was yanking his chain.

“Are they male hookers? That might distract me.”

He laughed. “Emma will kick your ass.”

Dante was well aware.

His brother would too.

“I’ll make a call. I can get Steele home without a problem. I have an idea.”

Paris rolled off to do the paperwork.

Dante pulled out his phone, and he got ready to do battle. The first wave of the plan was going to be easy.

He’d show the media that they weren’t the only sneaky ones in
‘Sin City’
.

It was time to do this Vegas style, as only a Croft could do, and it was going to be epic. It was a hospital jailbreak for the record books.

Dialing his assistant, he waited.

“You’ve reached Croft & Croft. This is Dante Croft’s office, how can I help you?”