Fearless: Mob Boss Book Two (Volume 2) (7 page)

15

She was drifting through a pleasant unconsciousness when a shrill sound startled her awake. It took her a moment to orient herself. Then she saw her phone shimmying across the bedside table, her brother’s name lit up on the screen.

She contemplated letting it go to voice mail. There had been times when she and Nico were apart that she wondered if she’d imagined his hold on her. If she’d magnified the primal connection they shared, the way their bodies worked together like finely tuned instruments. But any doubts she may have had were quickly extinguished the night before. Nico had been true to his word, staking claim to her body long after they’d stumbled home from the club. The sun had been lighting the sky when they finally drifted off to sleep, and it was only a little bit brighter in the room now. They couldn’t have been asleep more than an hour.

But David never called this early unless it was important, and she was all too aware of their role as emergency contact for each other. They didn’t have anyone else left.

“This better be good,” she said after she picked up the phone.

“Ange, it’s me. I—”

“I know who it is,” she said, laying back on the pillow. Nico, still half asleep, threw an arm around her. “What I don’t know is why you’re—”

“You have to listen, Ange!”

She sat up as the fear in his voice became obvious. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, but—”

Another voice, cold and familiar, came on the line. “I wouldn’t take that to the bank if I were you.”

It took her a few seconds to get the name out of her mouth. “Dante?”

Nico sat up like a shot next to her, throwing his feet over the bed and onto the floor.

“The one and only,” Dante said.

“What are you doing with my brother?”

Nico held out his hand for the phone. She shook her head, the icy grip of dread slowly closing around her heart.

“We just met,” Dante said. “We’re still getting acquainted. Where we go from here is up to you.”

“What do you want?”

“I want what’s owed to me,” he said, his voice low.

She shook her head, like that would help her understand his demand, or better yet, prove the whole thing a nightmare. “Money?”

“Do you really think money solves everything, bitch?”

She glanced at Nico, and the look of sheer rage on his face scared her almost as much as the fact that Dante had her brother.

“Just tell me what you want,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. Desperation was a losing strategy with someone like Dante.

“I want New York,” he said. “All of it.”

“New York?” she searched her mind, trying to decipher the meaning behind his demand.

“The New York territory,” he said. “It was supposed to go to my father. Which means it was supposed to go to me. And you can bet that if we were in charge, things would be a whole lot different.”

“I don’t have any control over that,” she said, hope lighting like tiny ember inside her. If she could make him understand that she didn’t have the power to give him what he wanted, maybe he would let David go.

“No, but you have control over the motherfucker who does.”

“Nico?”

Nico closed his hand around her phone, trying to get it from her. She slapped his hand away and stood, walking to the window.

“Bingo,” Dante said. “And I suggest you do whatever is necessary to make him forfeit the territory.”

“I don’t… I don’t even know how this works,” she said, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Isn’t that something that goes through Raneiro Donati?”

She waited for his response. Instead she heard a wet slap, followed by a thud and a groan that she knew instinctively was David.

“Don’t hurt him!” she cried, then immediately regretted the show of weakness. “I’ll… I’ll talk to Nico, but I think you’re overestimating my influence.”

His laugh was a mean and bitter bark. “I highly doubt that. In fact, I’d be willing to bet he’d do just about anything for your tight little cunt.”

She took a deep breath, glad Nico was still on the bed where he couldn’t hear the way Dante was talking to her.

“I’ll do my best. Just please… don’t hurt my brother. He’s not part of this at all.”

“Correction,” Dante said. “He wasn’t part of this. Now he is, and you’re going to have him back in pieces if you don’t find a way to get me what I want.”

“How do I contact you?” She couldn’t see through her fear. She needed to get off the phone, talk to Nico, figure out what to do next.

“You don’t,” he said. “I’ll be in touch in seventy-two hours. And I hope for the sake of this pansy-ass that you’ve got good news for me.”

The fact that an animal like Dante had her gentle brother, made her want to scream. But his insult to David made her want to weep. He’d been so hurt when their father hadn’t been able to accept that he’d been gay. Dante was a reflection of the hatred that made David a target for people who weren’t fit to breathe the same air.

She swallowed her anger. “Do I have your word you won’t hurt him until then?”

He laughed. “You don’t have shit.”

The line went dead.

16

“The call came from LA,” Luca said, putting his phone down.

“Is Sara sure?” Nico asked.

“She’s sure,” Luca said, running a hand through his messy hair. “She was able to trace it to LA before the signal went dead. Thank god for Dante’s giant ego. The dumbass probably used David’s phone as some kind of mind fuck to Angel. He would have been better off with a throwaway.”

Nico walked to the edge of the terrace and looked out over the water. He wanted to go to Angel, curled up on a chaise, looking like death, but he didn’t trust himself. Wasn’t sure he could see the fear in her eyes without setting fire to anyone who had ever known Dante, to John Lando and his family in LA, to anything and everyone who might have something to do with the emptiness in Angel’s eyes.

Coward
, a voice whispered in his head.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew it was the truth. He could take on the most violent of criminals, could ruin them financially, kill them with his bare hands. But he feared seeing blame in Angel’s eyes and knowing it belonged to him. She had been safe, dammit. She’d escaped the clutches of her father’s life. Of Nico’s life.

She’d come back to it all to help him.

He half considered giving in to Dante’s demands. Fuck, let him have the New York territory. Nico almost didn’t care anymore.

Then he thought of his parents—murdered in cold blood at the hands of Dante and Carlo Rossi—and all the people who worked for him. He had promised them a new vision for the family, one that was sustainable for the twenty-first century. Maybe even one they could live with. It was clear now that Dante was behind the attacks against them. He couldn’t cut and run. Not even for Angel.

And there was something else; he knew now that Angel wouldn’t be safe until Dante was dead. Nico wouldn’t make the same mistake he’d made in London by letting Dante out alive. Not this time.

“So we go to LA,” Angel said from the chaise, her voice flat. “Just like we planned.”

Nico turned to look at her. “That was never the plan, Angel,” he said. “The plan was for me to go to LA, and that’s still the plan.”

“He’s my brother,” she said softly.

Nico took a deep breath. “I know that. And that’s why I’m going to go get him for you.”

“He’s my brother!” she shouted, like he hadn’t heard her the first time. Her voice echoed off the stone terrace, and she stood, crossing to stand in front of him. She looked him in the eyes. “You can’t ask me to stay behind, Nico.” She sucked in a shuddery breath. “You just can’t.”

He wanted to say yes, to let her come with him simply because she asked. But he’d spent six months without her. Six months during which he sometimes wondered if he’d even wake up the next morning, if the pain of being without her would kill him silently in his sleep, like a long illness coming to an end in the dead of night. She was the only thing in his life that mattered, and he wasn’t willing to lose her again. Not to Dante, and not to all the things that could go wrong while Nico went after him to get David back.

“I can and I will,” Nico said firmly. “You’ll go to Maine and wait while I get David.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and he didn’t know whether to be relived or scared by the familiar gesture. It meant she still had some fight in her. And that could be good and bad.

“I’m going to LA,” she said. “With or without you. I’m Carlo Rossi’s daughter. I’m sure I can get my own meeting with John Lando.”

“Goddammit, Angel!” She jumped a little as he shouted, his frustration bubbling over. “Did you forget what happened when you refused to stay at the flat in London?”

Her eyes flashed. “I did not.”

“Then why can’t you trust me on this one?” he asked.

“Because this is my brother’s life,” she said. “He’s my responsibility, and it’s my fault he’s mixed up in all of this.”

Her words made him hesitate. He’d been too quick to assume she would blame him. He hadn’t thought about the possibility that she would feel guilty about the fact that David was in danger. That she would blame herself.

“This isn’t your fault,” Nico said, putting his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes.

“I wanted to help you,” she said. And then, more softly. “I wanted to see you.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I know. But I’m not letting you take the blame for the actions of an animal like Dante.”

“For all we know,” Luca said from the other side of the terrace, “Dante would have come after you or David anyway. This isn’t necessarily tied to the fact that you tried to help Nico. You didn’t exactly make your location a secret the past six months, and I think it’s safe to say Dante is behind Carmine’s death, and everything else that has happened.”

She pulled away from Nico. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” she said. “I need to be there when you get David out, and I need to be as close to him as I can until then.”

Nico rubbed his forehead, sensing his position slipping away. Angel took advantage of the opening to continue.

“I’m in this now, whether you want me to be or not, whether I want to be or not. And this only proves that hiding isn’t any kind of protection.”

He exhaled his frustration. She was right, and the rational side of his mind—the side whose number one goal wasn’t to hide Angel from anything that could so much as give her a hangnail—knew it.

“Fine,” he said. “But you let me take the lead with John Lando, and anyone else in the west coast family. We don’t know where their loyalties lay. Until we do, we have to assume it’s not with us.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look any happier about the victory than he felt. He turned to Luca.

“Who do we have out there that we can trust?”

Luca rubbed the stubble on his chin. He hadn’t been in his room when Nico went to get him after Dante’s call. Nico had called his cell, and Luca had shown up rumpled and tired twenty minutes later. Must have gotten lucky with the spring break crowd.

“Ivan Russo? He left last year. But not because he didn’t believe in what you were doing. I think he had a girl out west.”

Nico shook his head. “I don’t want anyone associated with the Syndicate. Too risky right now.”

Luca looked surprised. “You think this goes deeper than Dante?”

“I don’t know,” Nico said. “But I don’t think we should take for granted that it doesn’t.”

“What about Locke Montgomery?” Luca suggested.

Nico thought about it. Locke was a contradiction in terms; an independently wealthy ex-Black Ops soldier who now ran top secret commando missions all over the world—always his way, and only when he thought the end justified the means. He was also a botanist who believed strongly in the power of medicinal marijuana, and his growth operation was responsible for millions in tax revenue to the State of California—and for easing the pain of people who still lived in states where it was illegal.

Nico had learned about Locke when he first started reorganizing the family. He’d met with heavy—and violent—resistance and had needed help taking down a group of persistent dissenters. Locke came highly recommended, and Nico had liked that the man had no long-standing loyalties to any of the families or to the Syndicate at large. He had only agreed to help squash the uprising after reading Nico’s business plan, and Nico been surprised to realize it wasn’t the additional revenue that appealed to Locke—it was the prospect of a more enlightened approach to the traditions of organized crime.

Nico was good at reading people, but he’d never as baffled as the day he’d met Locke Montgomery. Part of him wanted to draw his weapon in response to the undercurrent of violence lurking below Locke’s surface. The other part had wanted to kick off his shoes and smoke a joint with him.

And Nico didn’t smoke.

“That’s an interesting possibility,” Nico said.

“He’s loyal to decency, not people or ideology. I think he would get behind offering you safe harbor if it was to save Angel’s brother.”

“David,” Angel said softly. “His name’s David.”

Luca nodded. “David.”

“I’ll call Locke now,” Nico said. He turned to Angel as he headed inside. “Pack your bags.”

17

Angel arrived in Los Angeles later that day with her heart in her throat. She felt better knowing David was close, but not knowing what was happening to him was killing her. She’d fought panic almost every moment since Dante’s call, finding solace only in the numbness that sometimes settled over her like a gift.

Nico opened the door of the car Luca had arranged for them, and Angel slid into the backseat. There were no friendly greetings with the driver this time, no kiss on the cheek as with their driver in Rome last fall. They were off the grid as far as the Syndicate was concerned, laying low and keeping their movements a secret from everyone but Luca, who had gone back to New York to check on the business.

She leaned her head on Nico’s shoulder as they headed south. She knew he blamed himself for what had happened to David, but she wasn’t letting herself off the hook so easily. She should have known better than to step back into her father’s world. Into Nico’s world. She’d barely escaped with her life last time. She’d been naive to think that she could dip her toe in the water without being sucked back in. And while naivety wasn’t a crime, in this case, selfishness was. Going to Nico had been nothing but selfish. Now she could only hope to save David’s life and put as much distance between them and the Syndicate as possible. They would sell their father’s business, officially hand over the Syndicate’s operations to Frank. Then they would go somewhere far away.

A vise closed around her heart. It would mean leaving Nico behind. She couldn’t have it all; her brother, their safety, Nico. But she wouldn’t think about that now.

They sat on the freeway for over two hours, moving at a crawl in the infamous LA traffic, then broke free just after San Diego. The sun was setting, lighting the Pacific on fire as it sunk toward the horizon, when they finally turned onto a winding road leading up a hill of scraggy brush bordered with palm trees.

The house was Spanish in style, with a white stucco facade and a red tile roof. It was set on a cliff high above the water, and Angel could just make out a meandering path to the private cove below.

The driver pulled into a gravel courtyard and they got out, retrieved their bags, and headed for the front door. Nico rang the bell, and they glanced at each other as it echoed on the other side of the door.

A minute later it was opened by a tall, muscled man in jeans. He looked at them from eyes that were so dark, it took her a minute to realize they were blue. His sculpted chest was tan, bare except for some kind of pendant tied with rope around his neck and a strange tattoo that covered his shoulders and continued onto his back. He had thick, wavy blond hair, the antithesis of the carefully maintained style worn by Nico and every man she’d ever met who was part of the Syndicate.

She was simultaneously intrigued and afraid. Then a smile broke out across the man’s face, and he reached out a hand to Nico.

“You made it.”

Nico nodded. “We did.” They shook hands, and Nico turned to Angel. “Angel, this is Locke Montgomery. Locke, Angel.”

She wondered if he’d omitted her last name on purpose. “Hello,” she said, shaking his hand. “Thank you for letting us stay.”

“It sounds like you need a friend,” Locke said. “And I try to be a friend when circumstances allow.”

They followed him down a long tile hall. Angel tried to make out the design tattooed onto his back, but it looked abstract, and she finally gave up. They emerged into an expansive room furnished with patterned rugs, overstuffed couches, and rustic tables and overlooking the ocean. The glass doors opened around a two-sided fireplace split between the living room and a deck that seemed to hover over the cliffs above the sea. A homey but elaborate kitchen beckoned from the other end of the room.

“Nice place,” Nico said, looking around.

“It’s private, and that’s what I need. Sounds like what you need, too.”

Nico nodded. “It is.”

“There’s a security system attached to the property and the house. I’ll show you how to work it before I leave tomorrow.”

“Not because of us, I hope,” Angel said.

Locke flashed her a devastating grin, and she suddenly felt sorry for any woman he turned it on. Was resisting even an option?

“Not a chance,” he said. “I have a job to attend to. But you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

He showed them to a large bedroom overlooking the water. An enormous canopy bed, draped with sheer white curtains and facing a private balcony, dominated the space. The early morning call from Dante together with the news about David and the long flight to LA had caught up with her. She wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers and sleep to the sound of the waves rushing the shore below. But Locke wanted to show them around, and she reluctantly left the room behind.

The house was surprisingly big, shaped like an “L” around a central courtyard planted with red bougainvillea and fragrant jasmine. She thought she spotted lemon trees, and maybe even avocado. She wondered how many gardeners it took to maintain such a large piece of land, unusual for Southern California where the lots tended to be small and crowded.

They continued to the pool area off the living room. At first she thought it had been left to grow naturally, but when she looked closer she could see order under the chaos, could see the careful design that made the pool area blend into the surrounding landscape, scrubby and mountainous and not at all what most people imagined when they pictured California. It was like happening upon an oasis in the middle of the desert.

There was a greenhouse at the back of the property—used to test new strains, Locke said, whatever that meant—and the winding path she’d spotted earlier that led to the private beach below the house. She couldn’t help wondering what Locke did for a living. He was young, probably Nico’s age, and the place must have cost a fortune.

The sun had set by the time they were done. Locke threw three thick steaks on a grill outside, and Angel threw together a salad with contents from Locke’s fridge. He put on music, and they ate on the patio, putting down two bottles of wine between them. Nico filled Locke in on the details of David’s kidnapping, and Angel felt the bottom fall out of her stomach all over again. She was here, in this beautiful place eating this beautiful food, while her brother was scared and imprisoned somewhere in the same state.

She pushed her plate away and took another drink of her wine.

It was late by the time they finished. Locke waved off their offers of help cleaning up, and she and Nico headed to their bedroom at the other end of the house. She could hardly keep her eyes open as he led her to the bed. She sat on the edge of the cushy mattress while he opened the glass door leading to the deck, and a wash of sea air drifted into the room with the sound of the tide rolling in below.

He crossed the room and knelt at her feet, then gently removed her shoes. “Want to shower before bed?”

She shook her head, feeling like a child. “I’m too tired.”

He unbuttoned her jeans, and she lifted her hips so he could slide them off. Then he lifted the T-shirt over her head so she was sitting in her bra and panties. He reached for her feet.

“Lay down, baby.” He swung her legs onto the bed, and she slipped them under the covers.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” she asked as he tucked her in.

“Of course,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be there before you know it.”

She closed her eyes and let the warmth of his protection wash over her. She wouldn’t have it forever. But she had it now.