Uncontrollable Temptations (Tempted #3)(48)

“Are you sure?” I questioned. “You’ve stayed out of any dealings I’ve had with Pastore, you don’t have Jimmy pegged which leaves you vulnerable. You like being one step ahead of everyone, like knowing what a person’s gonna do before he does it. You don’t have that advantage with Gold. He’s a sick fuck disguised as an eccentric joke,” I reminded him.

“I might not have him where I want him but there’s one advantage I have over him, over you, over everyone in this goddamn club. I know drugs, Man. I know their worth and their consequence. I know how to make them desirable and I know how to make them your enemy. I will have Jimmy Gold high on my promise before he or his streets are high on the product,” he said, his voice full of conviction.

There was a fire in his eyes, something rare for a man who walked through life like he was lost. Nailing Jimmy to the cross gave Blackie purpose.

I pushed my coffee aside and leaned over the bar to meet his gaze. “Keep it simple. Be safe, brother,” I chastised. “Need you breathing, remember that,” I added.

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say what he was about to do was no sweat off his back.

“Piece of cake,” he claimed.

I nodded and hoped like hell he was right.

“I’ve got someplace I need to be,” I said after a beat, lifting my eyes back to his.

“What about that?” He asked, tipping his chin toward the stairs.

“Yeah, about that…” I started. “Reina.” I threaded my hands through my hair, thinking of her waking up alone in my bed. “When she wakes up, take her over to Pipe’s lot and get her in a car,” I told him, watching as he raised an eyebrow at me. “Something safe. Tell Pipe I’ll square away with him tomorrow or the day after.”

“You want me to babysit your girl?” He asked incredulously. “Take her fucking car shopping? You really lost your mind this time, huh? No coming back from this shit,” he grunted.

“She deserves more,” I claimed.

“Then give it to her,” he said, surprising me. The shock must’ve taken presence over my features because he sighed and attempted to explain himself. “Instead of going off on your mission to hell, take her for the car. Honor your kid by enjoying life and not running from it.”

“Hard to enjoy life when you’re the reason your kid can’t blow out the candles on a birthday cake, Blackie,” I said hoarsely as I looked away. “Take care of Reina? Make sure she gets home safe.”

“And you? You going to stay safe?”

“All good, brother. All good.” I lied.

“Bullshit,” he countered, but didn’t press. “I’ll take her to the yard, get the wheels and send her on her merry way.”

“Then you’ll meet with Gold.”

“Then I’ll meet with Gold,” he confirmed.

I nodded in agreement. “She’s going to ask questions.”

“Not my place to answer them,” he assured me.

“Thank you.”

“You get your head right, Bulldog. Shit’s going to get heavy around here, going to need our leader,” he reiterated.

I walked around the bar, cupped his shoulder with my hand before I patted him on the back. I didn’t respond, not willing to lie to the man who cared about my sorry ass. “If Lacey comes around or calls…”

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Buying her an ice cream cone and pretending the world is a giant playground don’t work no more for her.”

I smiled. “Girl’s all grown up.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll tell her you went up to visit Cain’s old man.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Don’t fucking know, hire a nanny to lie to all the women in your life?” He offered.

I laughed as I walked toward the door, shoving my hands in my pockets and pulling out my fingerless gloves.

“Where’s your cut?” Blackie called out.

I pulled the door open, worked my hands into the gloves, flexing my fingers and cracked my knuckles before I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“Where it belongs,” I replied.





I stared at the historic chapel for a moment, bowing my head. Despite my beliefs that God didn’t exist, I made the sign of the cross. If by some miracle there was a God, then I hoped he was the comforting soul taking care of Jack. So I did it for him.

Green-Wood cemetery was huge, over six hundred thousand graves spanned across the land. In the early years after Jack’s passing I got lost trying to find his grave, made more trips to the office than one ever should. Thirteen years later, I knew exactly where my boy was, and I used the chapel as my guide since he was resting close to it.

I strode across the grass, the leaves crunching under my boots until I found the gray headstone that marked Jack’s home. It didn’t matter how many years had passed or how many times I had been there, each time I saw my name on that stone, the name we shared, I relived the pain of holding his lifeless body.

I crouched down, brushing the leaves away from his stone, and removed the wilted flowers from the last visitor. I ran my fingertips over his name, the year he was born, the year he died and the role he’d forever hold, “Beloved Son.”