Uncontrollable Temptations (Tempted #3)(5)
“Vic came to me a couple of months ago with a dilemma. The Fed’s were investigating him. They discovered a body and were putting together a case on him, probably gathering enough shit to put half the organization away. He sent me Bianci…” I continued, only for him to cut me off.
“I remember,” he clipped, leaning forward, eyes set on mine. “You going to tell me where this is going?”
“Danny was the one working the case,” I paused, running my fingers through my hair. It didn’t matter that my brother was dead for months now—the nagging pain never vanished from my gut. I learned a long time ago there was no time limit on grief. I never got over the loss of my son and I wouldn’t get over my brother being murdered. We may not have been close—I may have resented him for not being there for me when Jack Jr. died but he was still my brother. He was still the kid I looked after and shared half my life with. I made peace with my son’s death because it was out of my control. It took a long time and a lot of therapy for me heal.
Danny’s death was different. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t an unfortunate occurrence. It was murder. There was no excuse valid enough for him to be in the ground. I could avenge his death. I could make the bastard who took his life pay because he knew what he was doing. Jimmy Gold was in control when he killed my brother.
“I had Bianci in my pocket. He would let me handle Danny my way. All I had to do was give him my word that the case would die. I could’ve made that happen. I would’ve done it but I was robbed of the chance.”
“Because of the fire,” Blackie said pointedly. “Man, if this is about his house going up in smoke and you putting that blame on yourself…”
“This is about Victor Pastore handing me his underboss on a silver platter,” I interrupted.
Blackie’s eyes narrowed and he leaned back in his chair. I turned around and pulled the manila envelope from the shelf and slid it across the table. He reached for the envelope, keeping his eyes on mine as he opened it and pulled out the contents. He dropped his gaze to the photographs of my brother’s corpse and I looked away. Those images were embedded in my brain, when I closed my eyes, night after night, they haunted me. His body charred, his finger gone.
“Christ,” he hissed, turning the photos over so they were face down.
“Riggs sits outside Xonerated because Victor gave me the proof I needed to kill Jimmy Gold.”
“Whoa, hold it,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m all about an eye for an eye, you know that, but what you’re talking about is a whole different ball game.”
“I’ve made up my mind, Blackie. No one is going to change it either,” I declared.
“Then why you telling me this?”
“I’m going to take care of that motherfucker with or without the Knights behind me,” I said firmly.
“The fuck you are,” he shouted, shaking his head and crossing his arms against his chest. “You’re talking about taking out a made man, a fucking boss. That shit don’t just happen without consequences. You give Gold what he has coming to him and you bring war to the Satan’s Knights.”
“Dom, you’re not hearing me,” I said as I leaned forward. “This is happening,” I whispered harshly.
He exhaled roughly and ran the back of his hand along his jaw before piercing me with a hard stare.
“Then it happens in a way we’re covered,” he insisted. “Let me sit on it, figure out a way where you get your revenge and we still get to breathe. Pastore didn’t cut you no slack. He gave you a gift man, something he knew you wanted but he knew the rules. Fuck, he had a hand in making them. He knew you’d be fucked if you killed Jimmy now that he’s running the show. He used you to protect his interests. I’m pulling Riggs off Bianci. Let them guinea’s take care of their own.”
“Bianci is good people,” I said.
“Maybe so, but he’s not your brother,” Blackie stated. “Give me time, Bulldog.”
I stared at him for a moment knowing I’d bide my time. I would let him do his thing but I wasn’t going to let him pull Riggs off Bianci. Anthony Bianci may not be a part of the Satan’s Knights but he was a good guy, dealt a shitty hand, and finally has a bit of happiness in his life now. I would not be the guy to take that away from him.
“Riggs stays with Bianci,” I said finally. “You do your digging, find me a way to get the job done.” I glanced at the clock plastered to the wall, stood up and gathered the photos of my brother, shoving them back inside the envelope and tucking it under my arm. “I got someplace I gotta be.”
I felt his eyes follow me toward the door as he muttered a curse. I pulled open the door and glanced over my shoulder, tipping my chin toward the table.
“Oh, and have Bones sand down the table, maybe slap a coat of varnish on the fucking thing while he’s at it.”
“Fucking hell,” Blackie hissed as I walked out the door.
Chapter Two
I heard the engine even before I could turn around and peer out the window, I knew he was there. I watched him as he threw his leg over his bike. He parked right in front of Dee’s Diner; just as he did every night I worked the graveyard shift, which was five nights a week. I didn’t mind the hours, favored them even, the less people coming in and out of this place, the fewer who saw me. But him? He came in every night I worked and he saw me. It was unnerving the way he looked at me, those eyes of his seeing right through my armor, down to the scars that marked my soul.