He walked out on us taking every cent we had with him and when I asked him why, he told me it was because of the money. My mother never touched a cent of the payment she received from my father’s death, something I never knew. Jeremy saw an opportunity, a grieving, struggling widow on the verge of becoming an addict with two impressionable daughters who’d do anything to have a father figure in their lives. His departure sent Mom over the edge of no return. It led Ali into her teenage years, lost and confused until she found answers down the same dark road our mother had. What Jeremy had done to each of us made me sick to my stomach. So I joined with the most powerful man who could get me the answers I needed while guaranteeing me protection against retaliation.
I still don’t understand why Giuseppe offered to help two teenagers trying to steal from him. Maybe it was because he’d grown a soft spot for Ali over the years she’d become close friends with his daughter, Adriana. Maybe we had I’m starved I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours plastered obviously on our foreheads. I didn’t know then, nor did I care. Because as soon as he offered to source my revenge, it was all I saw and heard.
Revenge for my mom.
Revenge for Ali.
Revenge for me.
It took some time, gaining enough information from the right people and putting a plan into action, but Jeremy did get put away. I learned we weren’t the first family he had conned. He was also stealing from his business partners. When the time came and the police arrested him for multiple counts of fraud, embezzlement and apparently money laundering, which I did not know about, he was definitely going to prison for a long time. And now Jeremy Stiles resides behind strong iron walls. He’d never want to steal again, not unless he had the desire to be abused and murdered. He might not be secured in a penitentiary forever, but it’s been nine years so far, and he has a lot more to go before he ever sees the outside of prison walls again.
He helped repair my heart after my father died, only to obliterate it to pieces. My mother then died and took a piece of me with her. But Ali, sweet Ali, she held me together because I couldn’t break. She needed me then and she still needs me now. Ali, despite her drug addiction, her laziness, and all the other bullshit, is still the person I cherish most in this screwed-up world. Why? She’s never lied to me. We haven’t been close for many years. But we’ve never deceived one another or distorted the truth, a promise we made hiding under my bed, away from the prying eyes of our mom’s older, sleazy friend who was shooting his addiction up his arm meters away. For a long time, we only had each other to lean on for support, to hug one another when we needed to be held, to confide in when we needed help. I trust her.
“Thank God, you’re okay.” I squeeze her firmly, my eyes involuntarily closing to embrace the feeling of her in my arms while I ignore the worried voice in my head whispering one day she just might not make it out okay.
“I know, right? Whatever would you do without me? I’m totally fine.” Ali breaks away from our hug, dismissing the seriousness of the situation with a wave.
I roll my eyes, such a typical Ali response. My mind wanders. Where are the other girls? Why is she the only one still here at this time of the morning? Dread fills every crevice of my body. What had Giuseppe and Lucio gotten her into now? I’d spent the last few years trying to steer her away from them, but it was useless. How can I expect her to leave behind people she believes care about her?
Leaning both my hands on her shoulders, I look her dead in the eyes. “This isn’t a time for your jokes. We could have died, Ali. How many times have I told you this dump will be the end of you?”
I’m a hypocrite, every word out of my mouth a contradiction of my actions. Six years later and I still occasionally sip on wine over a meal with the devil. Except now, he’s not the only sinner at the table.
Ali groans. “Linds, come on. Do we have to do this right now? I just want to get out of here. Can we go, please?” She looks deflated and in need of rest. The black rings around her eyes a telltale sign of her lack of sleep. Even makeup can’t do anything to hide the gauntness of her face. I agree with a small nod and count my blessings we’re both okay.
“Damn, Mr. Hottie with a badge and gun over there is checking out your ass, sis.” Ali’s smug voice pulls me from my thoughts and I see her smile.
His presence is overpowering. I could feel him near even before Ali spoke. With his brows creased together, arms crossed over his broad chest and head tilted just a little, Detective Cole’s focus is solely on me when I turn around. The intensity in the room piques, and after staring for a second too long, I spin back around to Ali, ignoring her comment.
I put my hand on her lower back and nudge us toward the exit. “Come on, let’s go.”
Mason
Jesus, what a fucking morning. Running my hands through my hair, I close my eyes, willing my body to rid itself of this monstrous headache thumping against my temples. This undercover operation didn’t follow through according to plan. The bust wasn’t supposed to go down today but Roamyn’s cover had been in jeopardy thanks to him running into a dancer at Sweet Tarts, who knew who he was. As far as we knew, she wasn’t working the pole anymore. We were wrong. He’d been under for months as a human and weapons trafficker, building alliances with local gangs, clubs, and pimps. Giuseppe Marino and this brothel was his ultimate target. But Marino was smart. He made sure he was never attached to a drop or exchange. His son on the other hand? Not so fucking smart. But everything was risked when Roamyn bumped into Alison Jenkins and Lucio picked up on them knowing each other straight away. We were just fucking lucky she kept her mouth shut long enough for us to pull her out of there discreetly. Busting in on this morning’s gun shipment was now our only option. It was only a matter of time before the girl opened her mouth, and we had to get to them first. She refused to cooperate with us and we had nothing solid to hold over her head so we had to release her this morning. She was Lucio’s property and by the looks of her face he’d already taken his fists to her in the few hours she’d been back with him. We aren’t going to get the boss this time. But we are getting the next best thing. We’ll take them down one at a time until Giuseppe Marino has no army, no protection and no one by his side.
I glance around and my stomach drops. The casualties were too high. It was bloody and messy. The place was supposed to be empty with only Misery’s Angels and the Marinos inside. The Angels had assisted us in setting this up, not by choice but because it was that or the president’s eighteen-year-old son serves twenty-five years to life in a shitty cell up state. They had no idea Roamyn was an undercover cop though. But now a bigger problem stood opposite me.
War is a part of nature, but too many innocent people end up dead, while criminals like the Marino crime family and the Misery’s Angels Motorcycle Club manage to come away unscathed. Where is the justice in that? As lead detective of the Organized Crime Control Bureau in the Midtown North Precinct in New York City, I’m knee-deep in a bloodthirsty world of the worst kinds of criminals: contract killers, smugglers, traffickers, money launderers, and pimps. This city is a carousel of never ending cruelty. Lock one trafficker behind bars, another will rise up and take his place. The corruption wrecks havoc in my mind, weighing down the parts still holding out faith in humanity. It plays on repeat every night, and every morning I wake to a new day with torment the same as the last.
My self-inflicted headache turns into nausea. My stomach churns, an unwelcome reminder that finishing off my half-empty bottle of Jack last night wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. If Charlotte were home, I wouldn’t have touched it, but she wasn’t and I needed a reprieve. With the anguish condemning me to a life of misery and sleep deprivation, alcohol has become that friend many have had; the one that’s a bad influence, inspiring excitement, contentment, even if it is for just a fleeting moment before leaving you to suffer the aftermath alone. I swallow deeply at the sight before me. Ruins, a mass of destructive temptation. Fuck, get your head together, man.