Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DANTE

T he fucker ran from us the first chance he got, and we’re now headed back to the warehouse on foot. I hated leaving Alyssa alone in the car. But I know she’s armed. In a pinch, I know my little menace will defend herself.

She’s dug her way under my skin so deeply that this life doesn’t hold the same value and thrill to me much anymore. I value her over all else, and it’s more thrilling to unzip her onesie than to chase a man through the street with bullets flying.

“We’re headed back to the warehouse, Alyssa. Stay put. He got away, and I don’t know if more men are on the property.”

I left my radio behind, and I knew she could hear me. Part of me hopes she remains silent, and the other half wants her to confirm that she’s alright.

“Copy,” she says, and I grin.

Every fucking thing she does makes me grin, and I don’t know when I became so obsessed.

“Oh man, you’ve got it bad,” Marco points out, clapping me on the shoulder as he holds his other side to get the stitch out of the muscles.

“Shut up.”

“You’re not denying it, though.”

“Can’t deny something true. I don’t know if this life is for her.”

“This life isn’t for anyone, man. She will adjust,” he says.

The lights above the warehouse gates are up ahead, and we both slow down to walk as we spot them.

“Blue Mazda is missing. It was parked just there,” he says.

“You get the plates off it?”

“Of course. I got all the ones on the street so I could have them if any moved.”

I nod. “Good job.”

“I’m glad to see you happy, Dante,” he says, returning the conversation to Alyssa.

“For now.”

He sighs. “You think she hates this life that much? She leaped at the chance to be beside Brynne the way Slate told me.”

“Well, she’s got loyalty to Brynne. She bit off a bit more than she can chew, though. I think she’s only now realizing it.”

“Who could blame her, though? After the other night? Even I had a tough time after that.”

I have to agree with him. It was a lot.

“There’s something else. I can see it. What is it?”

I don’t normally like talking about my life and problems, but it would be nice to discuss them rather than let my thoughts drive me wild.

“She’s got these impenetrable fucking walls since her parents divorced. I get the sense it was not only messy but there was some abuse involved. Whether it was verbal or mental, I don't know. She’s lived with the idea that she’ll always be single. She doesn’t want to commit to anyone.”

“Ahh, now I’m getting the hesitation on your part. You, my friend, are a man of commitment.”

“Am not.”

He laughs. “Yeah? I’m sure you know how many one-night stands you’ve had.”

I open my mouth to argue, but I know how many I’ve had, so I keep my lips shut.

“I bet you can use one hand to count them, too,” he adds.

I cross my arms in defense, keeping my mouth shut.

“The man who loves too hard and falls too fast found the girl who refuses to fall.”

Fuck, he has us pegged.

“Can we keep our heads on what we’re doing, please?”

He throws his hands up. “Sorry. I forget you get touchy when you’re wrong.”

“Fuck off, Marco. Help me search the grounds.”

He pulls out his Glock 19 9mm, nodding at me for me to lead the way.

I push all thoughts of commitment and impenetrable fortresses around beautiful blonde women’s hearts from my head, focusing on watching every aspect of what’s in my path.

Once we’re inside, using a hole that we pried in the gate because someone changed our fucking locks, Marco and I go through the building and then out to the back, where the docks lead out into the bay.

There are two shipping containers here that weren’t here before, and I have a flashback to the night Slate and I spilled Ricci blood on this very soil before we rescued women from inside containers just like that.

“Goddamnit, not again,” Marco echoes my thoughts aloud.

“Be ready for anything,” I tell him, opening the first container.

The smell is unmistakable. Humans have been in here, and a lot of them.

But when Marco shines his light over the interior, there’s no one inside. Nothing but the buckets used for shit and piss remain.

The other one is the same.

Inside the guard shack, there’s no evidence left behind. Not even a scrap of paper with any information.

“Whoever is doing this shit is thorough. Brynne’s sure she’s got her house in order? This isn’t her family in retaliation for Lucio stealing from them?”

I eye him narrowly. “If Brynne wanted to do anything, Slate would let her. If she said, ‘I want to burn your docks down,’ he’d hand her the match. This isn’t her or her family. But it’s most certainly mafia-related. This is too tightly organized. Too clean.”

“I agree. I smell war on the horizon.”

“So do I.”

“Alyssa for the Enforcer,” Alyssa’s voice comes on the walkie, and Marco nearly busts a gut laughing at me.

I smirk. “Yes, tesoro?”

“Just checking in.”

Something about the fact she’s worried about me warms my insides against the chilly rain still falling in steady streams.

Marco closes the containers, and we return to the hole where we pried in the fence.

“Coming back now.”

“Good, I was getting pretty bored out here by myself.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”

Marco claps me on the shoulder. “I don’t think her walls are as high as you think, my friend.”

His words stay with me as I drive Alyssa and myself back to the apartment and through my shower.

Maybe she’s letting me peek over the tops of them now, still deciding if she wants to let me over for longer than small glimpses.

I hope she doesn’t start to build them back up for any reason. Because if she does, I’ll be fucked. She’ll never let anyone else in if I fuck this up.

Even me.

“I don’t understand how this is appropriate with all of us present,” Lorenzo huffs.

I have to agree, but Alyssa glares at me, and I keep my mouth shut.

“Well, you insisted I have this big wedding, didn’t you? I have to work while we get all this shit together, don’t I?” Brynne pops back.

Lorenzo crosses his arms over his chest.

Slate grins at their banter.

Brynne has found a place with us, so much so that she fits right in. The men give her shit, and she gives it right back. It’s what I like about her.

Fuck, it’s what I like about Alyssa.

“Can it, will you?” Alyssa says, glowering at Lorenzo’s antics.

He sticks his tongue out as if he’s not a grown-ass man, and she returns the sentiment.

“We’re getting off-topic,” Slate growls, fighting the same smirk that I am from across the room.

“The man got away on foot; I’ve got a guy down at Manhattan South Precinct working on running the plates from the car he took off in but guarantees it’s likely a stolen vehicle. If it’s not, I’ll be surprised,” I tell him.

Celine is tugging Brynne’s dress tight, closing the back with a clip.

“What’s the turnaround time?” Brynne asks me, clutching her stomach and looking over her shoulder at Celine, who’s none the wiser.

“He said to give him three days to get it done. He’s on an active case and has been super swamped.”

She nods. “Gives us time for the wedding. How’s security coming along for that?” She throws this question over to Antonio, who’s going through Celine’s bits and bobs on the table like a nosy cod.

“Good. We’ve got around thirty men, Ricci and Bianchi, who will be on guard during the wedding and the reception in shifts. Weapons are ready, and there’s an exit plan in place. I can show you evacuation routes after this if you’d like.”

Brynne merely grunts as Celine tugs the dress from the back.

“We’d like that, thank you, Antonio,” Slate pipes up. His eyes are glued to his bride-to-be, and who can blame him? It’s so good to see him this way—to see him happy.

It’s all any of us made men can hope for before we get put in the ground.

“Why does it need to be so tight?” Brynne asks, and Alyssa fights a laugh.

“Beauty is pain, my dear.”

“I know, you’ve told me, but this particular pain might cause me to stop breathing. Can we loosen it just a bit?”

Celine sighs, rolling her eyes as she loosens the dress. “Do you not want to look snatched for the wedding?”

Brynne laughs. “Who taught you that word?”

Celine gives Alyssa a sidelong glance as she bursts out laughing.

“Did I say it wrong?”

Alyssa covers her mouth. “No, Ms. Celine, you didn’t say it wrong.”

“Of course, it was you,” Brynne says, still laughing.

“Alright, you two girls, be serious. I have much work to complete, and you’re distracting me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both echo simultaneously, and Slate licks his lips and straightens them.

“We have one more detail to discuss before you let everyone go,” Alyssa says, and Brynne’s face straightens.

“Please tell me Lorenzo hasn’t gotten annoyed about the flowers again. His taste in them is dreadful.”

“Hey!” Lorenzo adds.

Brynne looks over her shoulder at him from her raised podium, and Celine smacks her shoulder so she can turn back around. “Sorry, forgot you were here.”

Lorenzo looks affronted as Brynne winks at me and turns back around.

“No. We didn’t plan bachelor and bachelorette parties. Now, I know this technically was my fault, but you did give me a lot of shit to get done in a small time frame, so…”

Brynne cuts her off, “Eh, don’t worry about it. I don’t need one.”

I open my mouth to interject, and Alyssa does first. “No, ma’am. We’re going out tonight, and you’re going to have a fucking blast. That’s an order.”

“Here, here!” I add, to which Slate eyes me and shakes his head.

“Last time I checked, I’m the boss,” Brynne tells Alyssa.

“Don’t get cocky,” she shoots back, and I have to cover a laugh.

“I think a night out would do you some good, bunny,” Slate chimes in, and I give him a look that says you’re not getting off easy, either. He shakes his head at me, but I have already planned something for tonight with the guys.

Brynne looks around the room, taking stock of the mood before sighing. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Alyssa steps in front of her, pinching her cheeks. “Awe, you thought you had a choice? How cute.”

“You going to miss me tonight when you’re out for girls’ night ?” I ask Alyssa as we ride back to the apartment together.

She’s texting away on her phone, handling whatever Bianchi business she’s tasked with. It’s likely for the wedding, though.

“Miss you?”

“I was kidding.”

Sort of.

“We won’t be out long, we’re both lightweights. Plus, it’s not like we’ll be alone. We’ll have guards with us.”

“Damn, who got stuck with that job?”

She sighs, placing her phone in her lap and closing her eyes. There’s tension around them, and it makes me want to take on the world to alleviate it.

“Lorenzo and Antonio,” she says finally.

I laugh, and she opens her eyes and pins me with a deathly stare. “I’m already dreading it.”

“Well, you’ll have a blast with them. They can’t get along to save their fucking lives.”

“Don’t I know it,” she mumbles.

“Hey, you alright?” I ask her, sensing some undercurrent of emotion beneath every word she says.

“I’m fine. Just a lot is going on. This world didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms. The wedding, the shooting, trafficking, it’s all a bit much.”

“It’s why I agree with Slate. You two need a night away from it all. To reset.”

“With Lorenzo and Antonio with us?”

I pull into the parking garage and find the spot for the Maserati, sliding into it.

“How about I talk to both of them? They’ll be on their best behavior then,” I tell her, turning her face toward me with the tip of her chin.

She smiles rather sadly. “That would be helpful, actually.”

“Done. I’ll handle it before you go tonight. You want me to use deadly force or…”

Her smile softens. “The regular amount will do.”

“You got it.”

Silence falls over us as our gazes remain locked.

“Thank you,” she says, and my heart beats out of rhythm.

“Did you forget what I said before?”

“Hm?” She quirks a brow.

“Anything you want. I’ll see it done.”

She leans forward, surprising the shit out of me, and plants her lips on mine. The kiss is sweet and unexpected, the best kind.

“Come on, let’s get inside. I ordered us food before we left the meeting,” I tell her. A strange look crosses her face—one that says she’s never been taken care of before, but then she drops it and grabs her bag.

Something flips inside me and makes me want to keep her surprised every day from here on out.

She deserves to be doted on and taken care of. She deserves the world.

And if she wants it, I’ll give it to her.

No matter who I have to kill to get the job done.