Chapter 28

Scotty came awaketo the sounds of two grown men snoring. He lifted his head off the pillow and blinked, smothering a smile as he took in Vince and Zander. They were on either side of him—Vince wearing only his underwear and Zander butt naked.

Finally. They were finally together. For a moment there, he’d despaired that the three of them would never be in the same room again. And then when they’d been taken, he’d become convinced that they would die without seeing Zander.

But they were safe. Zander was with them. And he loved them. He’d said those words out of his own mouth, so they had to be true. Scotty needed them to be true because he loved Zander just as he loved Vince. And he knew Vince felt the same way about the both of them.

They’d been through a lot. So much had gone on. It’d been so overwhelming sitting downstairs earlier, listening to Zander handle threats and business negotiations as if they were nothing. Nobody really told Scotty who the men were who’d taken him and Vince, who’d been threatening Zander, but they were dangerous. He understood that clearly.

Dangerous and cunning.

To do all that they did—killing Zander’s men, snatching Vince and Scotty and stashing them in this Coney Island penthouse—all so they could blackmail Zander into a business deal? He’d thought his uncle was fucked up but these people were next-level ruthless. He was ready to get away from them.

He crawled out from under Vince’s heavy arm and got out of the bed, making his way to the bathroom, where he emptied his bladder, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth. Back in the bedroom, he got dressed, eyeing his men the whole time.

Maybe he should wake them up? The sooner they got away from their current location, the better. Right?

But in the end, he decided to let them sleep a little more. With their rumbling snores, they were clearly tired. He would wait until they woke up to insist that they got the hell away from this place. He left the bedroom, closed the doors gently behind him, and went downstairs. The place was still and quiet, so he hoped that meant Derri wasn’t around.

Scotty didn’t like him. Derri’s eyes were always filled with jealousy and anger whenever he looked at Vince or Scotty. He didn’t know if Zander noticed, but Scotty for sure did. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Derri.

Once downstairs, he heaved a sigh of relief to find it indeed empty. He padded to the kitchen on bare feet, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before returning to the living room. He uncapped the bottle and brought it to his lips, only to stop in his tracks, frozen, when he spotted someone out on the balcony watching him.

Not Derri.

This person stood with his back to the nighttime view of Coney Island, hands in the pockets of his dark suit that contrasted with his white-blond hair. Ankles crossed, he stared into the apartment at Scotty through the open sliding doors.

Scotty hadn’t even noticed the doors were open!

When their gazes met, the other man winked and then straightened before striding toward him. Scotty glanced over his shoulder, panic quickening his breathing. Should he yell for help? Run and hide? What the fuck?—

“Scotty, correct?”

Scotty blinked. When and how had he gotten so close, so fast? “Y-yeah?” Eyes that were a weird blue, bordering on lavender, eyed him curiously.

“Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it while the three of you were sleeping upstairs.” He smiled. Jeez. He was the prettiest person, male or female, Scotty had ever seen, and he didn’t even meet Scotty’s full height. He was short and slender, giving off a vibe of dainty innocence at first look. But there was something about him, the twinkle in his eye, the way he stood, his presence, that put Scotty on edge.

“What—Who are you?”

“Come.” The man took Scotty’s hand, leading him to the couch. “You look like you need to sit down.”

He did need to sit down. But he also needed to get the hell away from this person who he didn’t know from a hole in the wall. Except his legs refused to cooperate, and his voice failed him, and somehow he found himself sitting next to a beautiful stranger who smelled so good and eyed him as if he knew every single one of Scotty’s secrets.

“So, how is he?”

“Hmm? Huh?” Fuck.

The man smiled, removing the water bottle from Scotty’s limp hand and placing it on the coffee table. “How is Vince? Still crazy?”

Scotty shook his head, trying to clear it. “You know Vince? Who are you?” His voice rose a bit at the end and he couldn’t help darting his gaze to the stairs, hoping Vince or Zander would hear him and come down to investigate.

The man watched him knowingly. “He tried to seduce my husband once.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I thought about killing him for that but I was practicing forgiveness that day.”

Wait, what?“I’m—I don’t?—”

“My name is Syren Rua-Ashby.” He patted Scotty’s hand. “I know you’ve never heard of me, but trust me, that’s a good thing.”

He was right, Scotty wasn’t familiar with his name. He swallowed. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

Again, the man—Syren—shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood, heard Vince was around, and decided to pay him a visit.”

“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” Scotty reached for him, grabbing the front of his jacket. To his credit, Syren didn’t bat an eye. “I won’t let you.”

“Hey, shh.” Syren pulled him close and stroked his hair. What the fuck? “No need to get all worked up.”

But he didn’t answer the question. “No!” Scotty wrenched away from him and jumped to his feet. “If you came here to hurt Vince, you’ll have to go through me first.” He didn’t know the first thing about this person, but he didn’t care. They’d been through too much. He was sick of the threats and the feelings of fear and danger that had been his constant since he’d come in contact with Zander and Vince.

Syren cocked his head, lips twitching. “I like you.” He stood and threw a hand over Scotty’s shoulders. “Normally, I would say if you’re a friend of Vince’s then you’re an enemy of mine, but I like you, Scotty,” he said, speaking in a low tone as if imparting a secret. Syren turned them until they were facing the balcony and the view outside. “You know, it’s been a while since I visited Coney Island. The last time I came?—”

“Syren!”

Scotty flinched at Vince’s shout. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and Syren spun them back around. Vince and Zander stood side by side, Zander in just jeans with his chest bare, and Vince in only his underwear. Zander’s expression was thunderous, but Vince’s held panic and fear.

“Oh. Hey, Vince.” Syren greeted him as if he were an afterthought, his hold tightening on Scotty. “I see you’re still alive.”

“Syren—”

Syren waved his free hand in dismissal. “No need to say it; I know I look better than ever.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Zander demanded, bringing a gun up and pointing it at Syren.

“Please.” Vince’s voice trembled. “Syren, let him go.”

Syren chuckled. “Why? Scotty and I were just getting to know each other. I heard you were here, so I thought I’d pay you a visit,” he told Vince. “Gotta say, I did not expect to find you in bed with not one but two good-looking men.” He tsked. “You’re a lucky one, aren’t you?”

“What do you want?” Vince asked as Zander crept closer, gun steady.

“Two things: I want Kian or Zander or whatever he’s calling himself nowadays to lower that gun before somebody gets hurt. Spoiler alert: it won’t be me. And then I want to talk about the mole inside your unit.”

The last timethey’d been face-to-face, Vince had been doing his level best to ignore the hurt and embarrassment of being rejected by Kane, Syren’s husband, while Syren spectated. Vince had practically thrown himself at Kane, half dressed in a hotel room. He hadn’t expected to ever come face-to-face with Syren Rua again. But here they were. He swallowed the fear and tried to make sense of what was happening. Syren had an arm around Scotty’s shoulder and a smile on his pretty face but there was nothing friendly about that gesture.

Or the man wearing it for that matter.

Syren was and would always be a threat. He was the most dangerous man Vince knew; not so much because of violence, but because of what Syren possessed. He trafficked in information. Anything there was to know about the criminal underground and the people who ran it, Syren knew it. Was involved in it. It made him untouchable, something of a boogie man. But that didn’t stop others from trying to get to him, maybe hoping to get him to share what he knew about their rivals by offering money or threatening him and his family.

But Syren was never scared. He moved around—when he did show his face in public—as someone who didn’t have a care in the world. That was probably true, seeing as he’d insulated himself by building a wall of criminals, men he called his family, between him and anybody trying to come for him.

Vince wanted Zander to lower his gun, but Zander ignored him, sliding closer and closer to Syren and Scotty’s position.

“We can talk about whatever you want.” It took no time or thinking at all to capitulate to Syren. Vince wouldn’t fuck around, not when Syren had his hand on Scotty. He knew all too well the damage a man like Syren could do. “Just let Scotty go.” He beckoned. “Scotty, come here.”

“No.” Syren shook his head. “Scotty and I just met, but I think we could be friends. He’s staying with me.”

Fuck.

“There’s nothing stopping me from putting a bullet through your fucking head,” Zander growled. “Let him go.”

Syren cocked his head. “Hmm. I figured that red dot in the middle of your forehead would’ve at least made you hesitate, but”—he shrugged—“your funeral.”

Red dot?Vince glanced at Zander and his heart jumped into his throat. That was a fucking sniper’s dot on Zander’s forehead. “Zander. Th-there’s a—” Fuck, he was stumbling over his words. “A sniper.”

Zander’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t back down. “Then I guess we’ll both be dead.”

“You can guess again.”

Vince stiffened at that voice. He’d hoped the three of them would never see each other again, never have reason to be in the same room, but he didn’t have that kind of luck. Because Kane Ashby, Syren’s husband and Vince’s ex, walked out from around the corner, coming from the direction of the kitchen. “Kane.” He looked the same. Better, if Vince was honest with himself.

“Lower your gun,” Kane ordered Zander as he calmly walked up and pressed a gun to Zander’s temple.

“No!” Vince snapped. Fuck, why didn’t he have his own weapon? “Kane, put your gun down.”

But Kane ignored him. And Vince wanted nothing more than to leap at him, knock his ass to the ground, but Scotty remained in Syren’s grip and there was still a sniper hidden somewhere with Zander in his sights.

“Zander.” Scotty spoke for the first time. “It’s okay. Put it down; he won’t hurt me.”

Syren beamed as he glanced at Scotty. “Look at you, being the only sane one out of all of us.” He redirected his gaze to Vince. “Let’s sit. We have things to discuss.”

“Zander,” Vince murmured. “Put the gun down. The sooner we get this over with the sooner they can leave. Please.”

Zander hesitated, jaw ticking. But finally, he lowered the gun. “You have three minutes.”

Kane dropped his weapon as well, stepping away and going to Syren. The two of them communicated with their eyes and then Syren moved over to the couch, taking Scotty with him. Kane remained standing, as did Vince and Zander.

“What do you want to talk about?” Vince asked as he stood staring down at Syren.

“Russ, your direct supervisor. You two are close, correct?”

Vince frowned. “Yeah. He’s a good man. Why? Did something happen to him?”

“Did you know he was feeding info back to Murray DuBois?

“What?” He shook his head. “Fuck no. Russ would never?—”

“He would. And did,” Zander said softly.

Vince swung his gaze over to Zander. “What? No, that can’t be right.” Russ was one of the good ones. He’d kept Vince safe. Protected him when DuBois came gunning for him.

“How do you think my uncle found you?” Zander asked. “Only Russ knew where you were.”

“But—”

“You called him a day or so ago, didn’t you?” Zander asked.

“Yeah,” Vince answered him slowly. “Just to check in.”

“He immediately turned around and called one of the hitmen my uncle kept on retainer and sent him after you.”

What the fuck? Vince scrubbed an unsteady hand over his jaw. “Why?” Why would Russ do that?

“Because there was a new man at the helm,” Syren offered up helpfully. “And Russ wanted to ensure he still had a place within Zander’s organization. So he figured he’d clean up one last loose end and deliver your head on a platter.”

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“He’s been on my uncle’s payroll from the very beginning,” Zander said.

“And he told DuBois about me,” Syren said. “About Kane.”

“Wait. This is who my uncle wanted the info on?” Zander asked Vince, who nodded.

Christ. All this time and Russ had been dirty? Vince had trusted him with his life. Had confided in him. Why hadn’t he seen it? “I’m—I didn’t know about Russ.”

Syren smiled. “I know that. Otherwise, you would be dead right now. I also know you could’ve given up Kane and me when DuBois began pressuring you, but you didn’t. I appreciate that.” He turned to Zander. “I want him.”

“Too late for that.”

Vince blinked in confusion. What were they?—

“I think I deserve the right to kill the man who threatened my family.”

“Well, you can stand in line because he put a hit out on my fucking family.”

Wait, were they discussing Russ’s death? “You have him?” Vince asked Zander. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?”

“Because we were a bit distracted, if you recall,” Zander responded. “Anyway, he’s on ice and he’s not going anywhere. I’ll deal with him when we get back to Jersey.”

“We,” Vince corrected him. “We will deal with him.” He wanted to look Russ in the eye while the other man confessed to all the shit he’d done. He’d put so many lives in jeopardy, not just Vince’s. Kane had a family he was raising with his husband. Vince didn’t want to see anything happen to them. They didn’t deserve that.

“Okay.” Syren nodded. “I can let you handle this one, but you’ll owe me.”

Zander reared back with a scowl, arms folded. “How the fuck you figure that?”

“Because I said so.”

“Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but you are out of your fucking mind. I don’t owe nobody shit.”

“People who move around in certain circles refer to me as Faro,” Syren informed him with a small smile as he got to his feet. “But since we’re practically family because of that one”—he pointed at Vince—“I’ll let you call me Syren.” He plucked something from his pocket, a card, and handed it to Scotty. “Scotty can call me when the deed is done.” He tapped a finger on the tip of Scotty’s nose. “Or anytime he wants.” He winked and brushed a hand down the front of his jacket. “Let’s go, Marshal.” He and Kane headed toward the door.

“Kane.” When Kane glanced over his shoulder, Vince took a deep breath. “I want to apologize to you and Syren for how things went down the last time we saw each other. I wasn’t in a good headspace and I allowed it to color my actions.” He tipped his chin. “I’m glad to see the two of you happy and thriving. You deserve it.” They did. They loved each other, and even back then he’d seen it, felt it, known it. He’d just been too stubborn to accept it.

Kane simply nodded at him, then took his husband’s hand as they made their way to the door.

“Bye, Scotty,” Syren tossed over his shoulder, and then they were gone, the door closing sharply behind them.

“So that’s Faro, huh?”

Vince swung around to Zander. “You know that name?”

“Who in the criminal world hasn’t heard of Faro?” Zander squinted at him. “Kane was the ex you mentioned, right? The one you said you’d lost?”

“Kane is your ex?” Scotty shot to his feet.

“Hey.” Vince went to him, taking his face in his hands. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

“Because this is not my scene, it’s yours.” He gestured between Zander and Vince. “I just allowed you two to handle it. But you didn’t answer my question. Kane is your ex?”

Vince smiled at the bite of jealousy he heard in Scotty’s voice. “Yes, for a brief moment. But he was in love with Syren the whole time and I wasn’t in a good enough space to accept that. I made a fool of myself and Syren was gracious enough to not make me pay for it with my life.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

That was a serious question from Scotty, and Vince matched that tone and intensity when he told him, “I don’t. I wish him happiness, that’s all. He’s where he’s supposed to be with who he’s supposed to be with, and now I can say that I am too.” He glanced from Scotty to Zander. “Now, we’re going back to Jersey tonight.”

Zander’s eyebrows shot up.

“It’s time we got out of Brooklyn.” Before they had any more uninvited guests. “And we need to deal with Russ.”