His (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)(57)

People are screaming now and I see at least three people on their cell phones, probably calling the cops. Jimmy and I pull down the black handkerchiefs covering our faces and I gun the gas, getting us out of there as fast as I can. I take us to the pier and put the car in neutral and pull the hand brake. We both get out and I yank the brake, letting it slowly drift towards the long fall down to the water.

We both jog to my car as the Mercedes splashes down below, releasing bubbles as it sinks.

“We need to get more of the family involved if we’re going to finish this in one piece, Vince,” says Jimmy. “They will realize by now what we’re doing, and they aren’t going to let us keep picking them off like animals.”

I grit my teeth, nodding. “If you’re right about the traitor, we’ll have to be careful. We bring the wrong guy in on this and we’ll end up getting popped while our backs are turned.”

I call in a meet-up with Pops and my brothers. I set it up at Pops’ place because the Anastasios are fuckin’ welcome to try us there when we’re all together. When we arrive, most of the family is already there. I walk inside, patting shoulders with Jack, Paulie, Pops, Mario, Angelo, the whole crew. Everyone heads to the basement and takes their normal places, lighting cigars and pulling out cards. There’s a forced calm about it as people begin hushed conversations, waiting until I signal that I’m ready to get things going.

The last few days have been like a fuckin’ whirlwind. I’ve killed people before, but I’ve probably made more bodies today than I have in my whole life. It’s a strange feeling, and it has me on edge. Seeing so many people die has me feeling less invincible, and that worries me, because I need to stay alive for Aubriella. I need to make sure I get back to her so I can finally pound that beautiful pussy until she screams my name.

I prowl the room, watching the crew as they all try to act like they’re not watching me. They know this is big. Everyone is on edge. Paulie, who normally wears a permanent smirk, has an odd mixture of a grimace and a smile. Paired with his darting eyes, it makes him look fuckin’ nuts. Angelo can’t sit still. He keeps biting his nails and absently patting his calf, where his piece must be strapped. They know this could go either way. The Anastasios are playing dirty, and it’s a new game for all of us. Word that there’s a rat in our family has spread too, which has everyone suspecting each other.

I make my way to Pops, who is in his regular spot with a thick Cuban cigar between his purple lips. “Pops. I want to call for a show of force. Do I have your blessing on this?” I ask.

“They are targeting you most of all, Vince. As far as I’m concerned, this is your call. However you want to play it.”

I take him by the back of the neck and kiss him on the forehead. “Gratsi, Pops.”

He pats me on the chest and nods.

“Have you seen Frankie?” I ask.

Pops frowns. “I haven’t. I thought he was with you, he said he was going to meet up with you at the factory.”

It feels like a ball of ice falls into my stomach. “You sure he said that?”

“I’m old, but I’m not fuckin’ senile. I know what the fuck he said.”

Why would he say he was going there? He would have called me if he was planning to meet up. Was he in on the trap? Shit. Fuck. I don’t want to believe it, but when I think back on how Frankie has been acting for the last few weeks, I get a sinking feeling that it’s true. He’s the one who let the Anastasios loose and he’s helping them try to whack me. I suddenly know it with a sickening certainty. I always knew he never forgave me for what happened to Jackie, but this shit? He’s really putting a fucking bead on his own brother because of it? I clench my fists. If it’s true, he’s dead to me. And he’ll be dead to the world when I get my hands on him.

I move to the front of the room and stand in front of the bar. I pour a bourbon and down it in one gulp, hissing between my teeth. Using a spoon, I tap the glass hard until everyone quiets down and looks up at me.

“Has anybody seen Frankie recently?”

There’s a deafening pause as heads turn and the guys shrug at each other, whispering low and shaking their heads. I wait longer than I need to, hoping I’m wrong, wishing someone would speak up. “No one?” I ask.

There’s a general murmur in the negative. I don’t bother going through all the reasons I have to believe it’s him. I skip straight to my suspicions, knowing they know who the fuck I am and that they won’t question it. “Frankie might be working with the Anastasios. If you see him, bring him in. Don’t kill him, but I want him. Does everyone understand?”