Reckless Temptations (Tempted #4)(10)

“I’m a real simple guy, Prez. I get high off of power and pussy,” I answered.

His lips quirked momentarily. “Every man’s last words,” he said, leaning over the table and folding his hands. “Let me try this again,” he countered. “You show a lot of loyalty and you’re eager to be patched in—I have no doubt you’d wear your colors proud and live and breathe for your brotherhood. But we all got something in us, each member of this club, something else that drives us and that’s heart.”

“I’ve got a heart,” I defended.

“Yeah, you do but what’s your heart beating for? What inside of you is going to keep you level and keep you breathing? What’s the one thing that will prevent you from being reckless? Because at the end of the day whatever makes your heart beat will be the thing that keeps you alive. For me, it’s my daughter, for Blackie, it’s the fear of dying and seeing his wife’s tortured soul. Wolf keeps breathing for his boys and Pipe’s got a young wife he’s too jealous to leave behind. We’ve all got something,” he stated. “What do you have?”

Well, fuck. Talk about crushing a man’s dreams. What did I have? What would keep me from being reckless? My computer? No. I tried to think of something that would keep me from dying, something to live for. Definitely not my family, they probably thought I was dead already. I gave up. What the fuck is with this sentimental bullshit anyway?

“I don’t expect you to answer,” he added. “I expect you to find out what it is—when you know for certain, then and only then, answer me. I’ll be waiting,” he said, leaning back in his chair as he pulled a cigarette from his cut. “I’ve got a job for you,” he offered.

I raised an eyebrow, happy to change the subject.

“Lay it on me,” I said.

“I just came back from my visit with Victor Pastore,” he continued, taking a pull from his cigarette.

Victor Pastore, AKA “Tony fucking Soprano.” If I never heard that name or saw those people again it would be too soon. Crazy gangsters.

“He delivered me something that has been tearing me up trying to get. He gave me a gift and in turn I gave him peace of mind,” Jack said, thoughtfully. “Man’s going to rot away in that cell so his family could be free of his sins and he’s still worried about them,” he explained.

“Sounds like a real gem,” I mumbled sarcastically. After that horrid night when I had to transport the Bianci family, a clan of nutcases, Victor turned himself in, confessing to a shitload of crimes. I didn’t feel sorry for the mob boss, he’s the idiot that turned himself in. Such an idiotic thing to do if you ask me. Man got away with every illegal thing he did for years only to confess like some sort of pussy. Word on the street is he did it to save his kids anymore pain caused by his lifestyle, they say it takes a lot of heart to do something like that…hmm.

Heart.

Then he delivered the blow.

“I need you to look out for Bianci, keep him and his family safe,” he ordered, blowing out a stream of smoke. “A lot of moves are being made, power is being transferred from Vic’s hand to his underboss, and with Bianci trying to be neutralized, he’s fair game. So is his wife and kid, and that shit ain’t going to happen on my watch,” he declared angrily, before pointing his index finger at me. “Or on your watch, because you will be there making sure harm doesn’t land on the Bianci’s door step. They will be your heart for now until you find your own,” he said.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “You want me to babysit those lunatics?”

“I want you to keep them safe,” he corrected, flicking the ashes of his cigarette. “And don’t you worry your pretty little head, his mother won’t be around to fuck with you.”

I whimpered.

Bianci.

At least his wife was smokin’.

Oh shit, the kid. I forgot about the little snot.

His bat shit crazy mother.

His hot as hell, crazy sister. I wonder how the little kitten and her rack are doing.

“Riggs?”

I shook my head, clearing my mind of motor-boating my little kitten’s tits and looked at Jack.

“We good?”

Like I had a fucking choice.

“Yeah, Prez, we’re good.”





Anthony opened a boxing gym in his quest to become a legit, law-abiding citizen. What a crock of shit that was. The man had more ammo than I had underwear. I was a firm believer that underwear was overrated, just a nuisance really. Anyway, he spent most of his days at the gym trying to get it off the ground, so on my first official day reporting as Anthony Bianci’s shadow, I parked my bike outside of Xonerated.

My eyes worked the gym, taking in the abundance of women working out in tight gym pants. A lot of ass to be had here. Maybe this gig wouldn’t be so bad.

“Can I help you?” I dragged my eyes from the girl pummeling a heavy bag and focused on the blonde receptionist.

Why, hello there…the name tag plastered to her chest showed her name was Brittany.

I flashed her my smile and watched her eyes widen.

Yep, absolutely had its perks. Brittany would be riding my dick in the locker room by the end of the day. I was sure of it.

I winked at her, leaning over the counter.