Owned by the Bad Boy(56)

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All my life I’ve lived by the Mafia’s code. Omertà. Everything, even your own flesh and blood, takes a backseat to your duties to the family.

I sacrificed everything, and all I have to show for ten years of service is a gash on my face.

I’m not going to sacrifice my wife and son. I’ll find that prick and kill him before Johnny gets him.

I drive around the city. My hands keep slipping on the steering wheel. I just know Johnny has guys following me. He knows I’m off the rails, pissed off, and I already got a piece from my arms dealer with the serial number filed off. Fuck Johnny. If it was his kid, that fucking cop would already be in pieces buried in all corners of the province.

I found out his address from the PI I work with, and I do a quick drive-by to assess the area. It’s a modest-looking place, which is surprising for such a high-ranking cop. I park several blocks away and step out of my car. An arm slides in front of my neck and yanks backward.

Fuck!

I reach for my gun, but another hand shoots out of nowhere and twists my wrist back. Then I lash out with my knee and it connects with a man’s waist. He doubles over, moaning, and I recognize François’ bearded face.

“You fucking asshole!”

“Get his ass in the car, quick!”

One of them shoves the small of my back, and then I see a black van waiting for me, Jack and some of the others already seated inside. They yank my arms around my back and frisk me, taking the gun from my side.

“I should knock your teeth out for hitting me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hey, we’re just following orders.”

Then I realize that I never had a goddamn chance to take out Frank. Rage seethes in my chest.

“I’ll kill you all.”

“That’s the spirit.”

I climb into the van, shaking the rest of them off as I sit down and bury my face in my hands.

“He’s not even home anyway.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

I hear the smirk in Jack’s voice. “Because we’ve already got him.”

Trust Johnny to be one step ahead of me.

“Goddamn it.”

Jack’s shit-eating grin makes a rush of energy sear to my throat.

“You should thank him for saving your ass.”

“Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”

The asshole smiles again, unwilling to be threatened, and hands me a black mask. I rip it out of his hands and pull the irritating fabric over my face.

I clench my fists over my knees as we drive way out of the city, trees whipping by the windows. Tommy drives the van along a dirt road for fifteen minutes into the forest, and then finally I see a hunched-over, bulky body, his head covered with a hood.

Johnny stands nearby, dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved sweater that covers his tattoos. I’ve never seen him wear anything but a suit.

“Remember, don’t say anything that’ll identify yourself.”

“I’m not a moron.”

But right now I don’t even care that much if he knows who I am. I yank the door before the car comes to a complete stop, striding to the hooded figure. He turns in my direction and Johnny tries to intercept me.

My boot crashes against the side of his face, and he falls like a mountain to his side with a loud grunt. Johnny hastily pulls his mask over his face.

Frank coughs into the dirt, and I reach down to yank the hood from his head, tearing out several long blond hairs in the process. Frank smiles as his face rubs against the earth, unable to get back up because of the zip ties around his hands.

“You must be Luc. How’s your wife?”

I lift my leg to stomp on the motherfucker’s face, but Johnny grabs my arm in a vise grip and yanks me back.

“Control yourself,” he hisses in my ear.

Boucher laughs, his teeth stretched in a bloody grimace as an inhuman sound forces through his lips. It’s robotic. I want to kill him just to stop the noise.

“I can’t wait until I bury each and every one of you in the RICO case I’m building.”

“You’re going to drop the case. And you’re going to stay away from Luc DeMarco and his family.”

I get a strong whiff of booze as I approach Boucher, and wrinkle my nose in disgust. His wild eyes rove around us, no doubt memorizing every detail.

“I’d rather die.”

My muscles twitch as I stare into those dead eyes, wishing I could watch them as I strangle the life out of him.

“You will drop your obsession with Luc DeMarco’s wife.”

“Her name is Claire, and I’m not obsessed with her. I love her.”

My scream of fury echoes through the woods as I lunge at Frank Boucher. He lashes out with a heavy boot, and it nicks my side before I wrap my hands around his throat. I squeeze hard enough to make his eyes bulge and his face burn beet red.