Dark Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 1) (37 page)

The man looked surprised.

“But you sent us,” Officer Williams stated. “You told us to rough her up.”

He shook his head.

“I did no such thing.”

The men looked really scared. They finally got it. Their boss wasn’t going down with them. They were on their own.

Shit!

“I suggest you head to your homes, get loaded, and pray that you have a job tomorrow. If Croft comes forward with that tape, you’re both likely going to jail, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“But…”

“You’re dismissed.”

They both left, muttering under their breaths.

When they were gone, he pulled out his recorder and turned it off. Well, they would work for him for the rest of their lives in Las Vegas.

He owned them.

A little tweaking and that recording would make them look as guilty as sin.

This was perfect.

Before it was over, he’d own them all.

He was going to leave his mark on Las Vegas, one way or another.

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

Casino Ballroom

It was nice to be at a function where he didn’t have to see Dominic Marianna. Now that he was dead, Vegas was a far better place for it. Greyson could simply enjoy time with his wife.

His little kitten was asking for trouble.

As they danced, she was rubbing up against him, trying to make him wild.

He’d had to flick off the earpiece, simply because she was being borderline pornographic, and he wasn’t letting his wife turn any other man on—ever.

Friend or not, Dimitri wasn’t going to be privy to the lewd things whispered for his ears only. Those sexy words were meant to be shared with only him, and he wanted to keep it that way. Besides, the business at hand could wait a little longer. Greyson was focused on Emma, her wicked mouth, and the promise of her blowing him later.

Yeah, he was a horny man.

Sue him.

When he spun her out, making her laugh, he was enthralled by her smile. There was less stress on her shoulders at this party, compared to the last one. She deserved it. They’d lived through Hell and survived.

If anything, he wanted to remember this moment for as long as he lived. Everything was going right, and he was grateful.

Her happiness helped ease the tension in what was coming later. Greyson would do anything to protect his wife, and enacting a little street justice was sometimes a necessary evil.

When he dipped her low, Emma’s laughter lifted his heart. Croft could tell she was having the time of her life. She’d hosted perfectly, going from person to person, making sure everyone was having a grand time, and she’d been the epitome of mob boss’s wife.

The men in the room were admiring her.

The women were jealous.

Greyson knew he’d chosen right for this journey. With each flicker of light off her new engagement ring, he couldn’t wait to marry her all over again.

His Emma was priceless.

She brought a certain je ne sais quoi to everything around her—even the mundane. She handled the compliments about the decorations, lights, and everything else as if this was something she handled every day.

Emma slipped seamlessly into her position as Greyson’s wife—a mob wife.

It was a beautiful thing, and tonight was definitely special. As the music ended, it was about to get even more special. This was his favorite part.

They were going to do even more good for Las Vegas. It was time for everyone to put their money where their mouths were.

When Dante’s assistant signaled him, he took Emma’s hand and headed toward her. It was time to thank everyone for attending and kicking off the festivities. Dinner would be starting in a couple hours, and it was time to mingle and have appetizers.

He and Dimitri had shit to do.

Greyson got up on the stage with his wife beside him and gave the speech.

“Thank you all for coming to our party. We are hosting it in remembrance of someone we lost in our family. Randall Mason began it years ago, and after last year, when he was murdered, we promised to carry on. Only, we’ve decided that tonight, we’re going to donate all money to one of our charities. There’s a woman’s shelter on the strip that could use our help. I’m asking this year you dig deep, giving us the chance to help the less fortunate.”

He waited for the clapping to end.

“Here’s our challenge to you. We will match your donations, dollar for dollar, with no cap. Whatever you give, Emma and I will add that same amount to it. Let’s show Las Vegas that it’s not only about fun, but it’s about helping out our fellow man.”

There was thunderous applause from the three hundred rich guests, and flashes of cameras from the few reporters given access to the venue.

“Tonight’s appetizer portion of the night will feature all the booze you can drink, and mood lighting.”

Timed to his verbal cue, the room went dark. Then all the special effects kicked in. The ceiling was filled with the night sky, there were white lights shooting across the room like shooting stars, and there were trees to make the place look like the forest.

The music kicked back on and the waiters and waitresses dressed in fairy attire began circulating with enough food to feed a small army.

“Welcome to our fairyland,” he offered. “Dinner is in two hours, and we’ll give you the tally of our night in donations. Thank you in advance for your generosity.”

They clapped as he headed down the stairs.

Dimitri was there.

“We have to go. We have less than two hours to get this done.”

He kissed his wife.

“Stay with Curtis and Kat,” Croft ordered.

He motioned for him to head his way. When he reached him, he needed to know if he’d held up his part of the deal. This was his area of expertise.

“Curtis, you’re on the women. Is everything set?”

The man he called son passed him a little black box with a red button.

He carefully handed it off to Dimitri for safekeeping.

“Cue it upstairs in the penthouse, and it’s going to direct feed to the cameras.”

Greyson made a mental note. He knew this had to be done flawlessly—in case they got busted.

“It’ll give us an alibi?” he asked, keeping his voice low enough that no one around them could pick up their conversation.

“Yes, it will. It’ll show you and Dimitri in that office for one hundred and twenty minutes. It’s mostly re-looped footage, but it’ll cover your ass if you show it to anyone.”

“And if it goes to court?”

He hesitated. “It’s been computer generated, run through some programs, and made to look like footage. It’s not going to stand up under deep scrutiny, so I suggest you don’t get caught.”

That said it all.

Great
.

There was nothing like a little more pressure added to the whole situation.

This just made it more imperative that they do this right the first time.

“Once you get upstairs, call this cell from your desk phone. It’ll register that you were up there and calling out. The number is a burner phone Dimitri gave me.”

He could do that.

“When you get back, hang up the desk phone. That will give you an alibi with the video. With that, everything will be covered.”

He trusted his family. He knew it would work.

Dimitri worked it all into his plan. It was going to work.

“I’ve got a private ride out back, and it doesn’t have GPS, so we’re covered.”

Then it was set.

“Then let’s get this done. No one fucks with my family,” he stated, staring at Emma.

He touched her cheek. “Be safe, my wife.”

Oh, she was safe.

He was the issue.

“I love you, Greyson. Be careful.”

A part of her knew how wrong this was, but she also knew that her husband was only going to take so much. When he had his badge, he’d had to swallow a lot from Dominic Marianna.

Now…

Not so much.

It was about to explode.

Emma thought back to the question the reporter had asked about being married to the mob.

What was it like?

Yeah, they had no damn idea.

Chapter Twenty-One

The ride to the first officer’s home was filled with planning, rerunning the job, and making sure every aspect was covered. Clint Williams was in for one hell of a night.

They weren’t going to get a second shot at this. If they screwed up, it meant going to jail. Most importantly, the man couldn’t see them. Yes, they were ready with black hoodies, and masks, but still.

It was going to be pretty obvious who sent them. If the two men didn’t know it was Greyson and Dimitri, they’d figure it was a hit on them.

Proving that would be really hard since they didn’t hire anyone to do it. That left loose ends, and neither Greyson, nor Dimitri, were willing to do that. They’d been soldiers, killers, and mercenaries.

They knew how to run an op and leave no trail.

The two cops were screwed.

Greyson and Dimitri parked the non-descript vehicle in the alley behind the man’s house. It was a loud neighborhood with people coming and going.

That would work to their advantage.

It would mean they could get in, not be afraid that a neighbor would see something out of place, and call the cops. They could blend.

At the cop’s back door, they could see straight into his living room in the shotgun style house. He was drinking a beer as he sat on the couch.

Behind him on the wall, there was a security system. It was armed and ready to go off if they opened the door. Dimitri pulled out a little black box, attached it to the phone jack outside the house, and entered a code. It pulled up the security pin number.

Greyson hoped the man’s tools were as good as he said, or this was about to go bad.

Dimitri whispered the plan again, and Greyson gave him a look. It wasn’t as if he’d never done recon before.

He had it down.

Yes, he was rusty, but old habits came back relatively easy when you were doing something for your wife’s honor.

This asshole had touched his woman.

There was payback.

Creeping around the side of the house, staying low in the shrubbery, he found his way to the front porch. He didn’t even have to get onto it to knock on the door. Reaching through the bars of the railing, he banged loudly.

Then he got the hell out of there.

Dimitri watched as his partner in this operation got the man’s attention. The second he did, he picked the lock. He didn’t have much time.

There was a click, and he opened the door slipping in. At the alarm pad, he entered the code.

As he held his breath, the light went from red to green.

Clear.

Hiding in the shadows of the kitchen, tucked into a dark corner, he waited on his partner. This was the ultimate trust, and why Dimitri always worked alone.

This would be the defining moment going forward. Would Croft carry out his end of the deal?

Or would the ex-Fed chicken out and leave him hanging?

Dimitri held his breath.

Finally, there was the telltale knock on the back door, drawing Officer William’s attention to the back of the house.

It didn’t take long for Clint Williams to enter the dark kitchen, muttering profanities under his breath about the stupid neighborhood kids.

As soon as he was past the spot Dimitri was hiding, he stepped out, hitting the pressure point on his neck.

The man went down.

Greyson watched from the door. As soon as Dimitri had knocked him out, he went for the vehicle. As he raced there, got in, and fired it up, he backed up between the cop’s garage and the abandoned, rundown one right beside it.

The trunk was popped and the man was tossed inside. Dimitri got the hood in place, duct taped his hands and legs, and then closed the trunk.

He hopped into the passenger side door.

They had an hour left.

“Good work.”

“You too, Dimitri.”

“Do you still want to do this?” he asked, glancing over at the man beside him.

He didn’t have a choice.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.”

The line was crossed.

Greyson was a soldier again.

This time in his own private war.

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

Officer Stoner’s

Home

Five Minutes Later

This one was easier than either man had assumed. When Dimitri did his recon, he figured this would be the harder one to take. The man had looked nervous when he’d arrived at home. One of his paid informants had recorded it all, forwarding it to him.

In the end, that worked to their advantage.

Officer Stoner, the one who’d busted out Emma’s taillights, beat on Chris Ford, and pulled a gun on the woman, was passed out drunk in his living room.

The evidence was on the table before him.

There had to be eight empties.

Someone had tied one on, and it was going to be the biggest mistake of his life.

Well…make that the second biggest. Helping the commissioner shake down Emma and Chris had been what got his ass in trouble. When you played with snakes, you were bound to get bit. While all of Vegas thought he was the mob, he was more like Robin Hood. Yes, he was doing illegal things, but it was for the people who were screwed by the powerful.

The people like Commissioner Jeffrey Raye.

Dimitri popped the lock, and it began.

Quietly, they walked in, and the entire time they headed his way, the man never even moved.

Dimitri hooded him, and he finally began to stir. Then he struggled. Greyson gave him one shot to the face, and that ended his pathetic fight.

He was out cold.

They did the deed, got him bound, and carried him out.

They had a good forty-five minutes to get the rest of the job done.

Not far from where they were going to dump them was a secure location. As they pulled in, backing the beat up car into position, they popped the trunk.

Inside were two squirming, scared cops.

Dimitri gave him a signal.

They each grabbed one.

They dragged them inside, and got to work. With black leather gloves, a baseball bat, and enough anger to fuel his rage, Greyson Croft did what he swore he’d do.

He protected his family.

This was his dark justice.

They took his badge, but they wouldn’t take his integrity. He would stand up for his family and keep them safe. These two cops would live, but they’d have a long time to think about what they’d done.

Who they’d helped.

What line they’d crossed.

When the one pissed himself, and the other was curled up like a shrimp in the fetal position, their job was done.

Anything more would be murder, and that wasn’t what Greyson wanted.

No, he wanted them alive and scared.

Even if he had to do this to every cop Raye had in his pocket. He had time and money on his side.

The two battered, bleeding men, were tossed back into the trunk, driven to the commissioner’s house, and left on his gate as a memento from his family to Raye’s.

It was his calling card.

It was a message.

The man would get it.

Greyson knew his schedule, and he figured the commissioner would be back soon. He was out schmoozing for money for his pet projects.

Well, he was about to get one hell of a contribution.

When he came home, he’d find a gift—two badly beaten cops who would be scared shitless. They’d been taken by ghosts, and they didn’t have a clue.

As they drove away, Dimitri knew there was one thing left to do. “We need to stop at this location,” he said, rattling off the address.

“And?”

“I have two rides there. Are you any good with a bike?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

Greyson didn’t ask. He knew that Dimitri would have covered all their bases. This was something he excelled at in life. It was likely why the US government had used him, and he’d never been caught doing anything illegal.

Greyson was glad the man was on his side.

At the abandoned warehouse, one he didn’t happen to own, Dimitri keyed in a code, pushed the gate open, and then hopped back inside the ride.

“Park it around back.”

Greyson did what he asked.

They got out and Dimitri tossed a full container of gasoline into the back of the vehicle. He made sure to hit all the spots where evidence had come in contact with the stolen car.

When he was done, he nodded toward the motorcycles. It was his cue it was time to go.

“We’ll leave them not far from the casino in an alley. They’ll be picked up in the morning by someone I’ve hired to strip them down for parts, or stolen by some miscreant. Either way, keep your gloves on.”

Greyson complied as he hopped onto the dirt bike.

He watched Dimitri as he dropped the match, and then raced toward his bike.

They both came to life as the explosion of flames behind them told the tale.

That vehicle was toast, as was anyway to find trace. They had to get out of there, and fast. The shortest route—through the hills in the dark—was how they’d avoid any cameras or arriving firefighters.

Greyson’s heart was pounding the entire time as he followed his partner in crime.

He’d done the deed.

He’d made his choices.

And you know what?

He was perfectly fine with that. Somethings in life were worth the risk.

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

Exactly Two Hours

Later

He hung up the phone, pulled on his silk shirt, and got ready to face the world again. He was about to have dinner with his wife, and he was going to enjoy the party.

He’d earned it.

As he and Dimitri were about to head down, he stopped the man.

“Yes?” Dimitri asked.

When Greyson hugged him, he was completely caught off guard. He’d just got accustomed to Emma’s displays of affection, but Greyson now too?

This floored him.

“Thank you, Dimitri. I appreciate what you did. You knew this would eat at me, and I needed to get retribution. I appreciate that you understood that I needed to protect my family.”

He totally got it.

He would have needed the same thing.

“I’m here if you need me, Greyson. I’m part of this too. I should be thanking you. Without you and Emma, my sisters and I would have moved on to one more client, one more case, and one more job. Now we have something we never had—a family.”

Greyson understood where the man was coming from. Before Emma, he’d been the same way. The FBI had been his life. In his time with the Army, before becoming a Fed, that had been his life.

Now he had an obsession he didn’t want to replace.

His wife.

“Want to go join our family?”

“Absolutely.”

With that, they headed down. Nothing more was needed to be said. The men had both served their country, made their marks, and become the men they were destined to be.

Good and evil were a matter of perspective.

They’d broken the law.

But it was for a damn good cause.

Downstairs, Emma was dancing with Curtis while Kat took a breather. As Curtis was laughing, he knew Emma was worried. She had lines in the middle of her forehead.

“He’s fine,” he said, spinning her out.

“I know. I’m just worried.”

“About what this will do to him?”

“Yes.”

Curtis had been on this ride the whole time with Emma and Greyson. He came first, before Greyson ever fell in love with Emma. He knew the kind of man he was, and what he needed to be whole. This caveman wasn’t like any other man.

He had his own code, and he had to live by it. Greyson couldn’t fit into the world without being himself.