665AN: I apologize in advance for the end of this chapter.
It was Tank's day off so I didn't expect to see him when I came out of Vinnie's office. He was leaning against my Cayenne with his thick forearms crossed over his chest. A pair of aviators hid his dark eyes and I could see my reflection in the mirrored lenses.
"Shouldn't you be home with your wife and kid?" I asked as I hit the button to unlock the vehicle.
He expelled a short sigh. "Beth's Mother is in town."
I couldn't stop the grin. Tank's Mother-in-law rivaled mine on the batshit crazy scale.
"Understandable, but it's still your day off so you could be doing something else like hot yoga or maybe a basket weaving class."
"Don't be a dick," he said.
I smiled again and took note his car was nowhere to be seen. "You walk here?"
I couldn't see them, but I'm fairly sure he rolled his eyes. "Manny dropped me off. Basket weaving was cancelled so I thought I'd ride with you today."
That got a laugh out of me. "Let's roll then." We got in the car and when our seatbelts were fastened, he gave me some unexpected news.
"Mike and Gabe are back."
I whipped my head around as he was tucking his glasses into the neck of his t-shirt. "When?" I demanded.
"Right when I was leaving. They strolled into my office like they haven't been gone for six months and wanted to be put on the schedule."
I hoped that meant Michael was back on the road to recovery. "How did Michael seem?"
"Better than when they left, I think, but it's hard to tell. They're almost as good as you at concealing emotions."
Tank had a point. "Did you tell Steph? She asked again this morning if they'd been in contact."
"No," he replied, "but I did tell them where she was having breakfast and suggested they make an appearance there before they did anything else."
"Good," I said and started the engine. It's exactly what I would have done.
"Do you want them on the schedule today?" He asked as I pulled out into traffic.
I shook my head. "If I know my wife, she will have roped them into helping her and Hector with Lula's list of FTA's, but get them on for tomorrow."
"When's Lula back? And did Vinnie accept your offer?"
The plan had been in the works for months but this morning I made the offer to Vinnie to buy out his bonds business and absorb it into my company. I was frustrated we were spending half our time helping Lula because he refused to hire another, or a more competent, bounty hunter. The fact Vinnie would bond out any lunatic who asked was part of the problem and I wanted to be more selective, in an effort to keep the craziness under control, especially if Stephanie wanted to keep doing it.
"Next week," I answered. "And yes, he accepted. But had the cojones to give me a condition." I tapped the manila folder I'd set on the seat between us.
Tank picked it up and perused the first page. As expected, he let out a string of curse words a mile long and then added, "Vinnie has finally lost his damn mind."
I had to disagree. Vincent Plum wasn't crazy. Perverted and sick but not crazy. In this case, he was just greedy. It would net him one million, minus our cut. Add in my offer to buy him out and Vinnie was seeing only dollar signs.
"Did you agree to this caveat?" Tank wanted to know.
"Not yet," I said. He closed the folder and set it back on the seat and I counted ten full beats before he spoke again.
"Vinnie bonded out Stefano fucking Guarraci," he muttered as if I hadn't read the file. He turned to me with what I was sure was a face full of incredulity, but I didn't take my eyes off the road "Are you actually considering this?"
Stefano Guarraci was a street boss for the DeCavalcante crime family, who were well known for a lengthy list of illegal activities. He'd been arrested for two counts of first-degree murder and conspiracy. I was surprised bail had even been set with those charges but even more surprised he'd been caught. Typically, those guys are pretty careful, or they get members of their crew to do the dirty work so they don't end up in this type of situation. I wasn't shocked he'd jumped bail but if he were smart, he would have already fled the country and this whole conversation would be rendered moot.
"Considering? Yes. There have been rumors Guarraci started sampling their supply of blow and it's turned into a problem." I tapped the file again.
"If it's true, that could be the reason he took out two of his own men," Tank replied, following my train of thought.
I gave him a nod "If he had any fears they were going to rat him out to the big boss. And if the rumors are true, it might start to escalate and innocent people could get caught in the crossfire. He will need to be dealt with."
"And you want to be the one to deal with him?"
"I think it's worth asking some questions," I answered as I made a left turn onto the interstate.
"Is that where we're headed?"
"Yes. But call Cal and Happy and have them meet us. Some extra intimidation couldn't hurt."
Tank got on the phone, and I continued on I95 toward Newark. I was familiar with a guy on one of Guarraci's crews named John LaRosso, but he was mostly known as Johnny Balls, and more often than not, could be found in a strip club called Juicy Lucy's. It was a disgusting dump located about ten miles outside of Newark, right off the Interstate. It was also where I suspected a lot of the money from their cocaine trade was laundered.
We rolled into the parking lot a half an hour later and being a Tuesday morning, it was mostly empty.
The building stood by itself on a large lot and had to be over thirty years old. Not a dime had been spent during that time to keep it maintained. The stucco covering all the walls might have once been yellow but had faded to an undistinguishable color and was falling off in big patches leaving random bare patterns here and there. The gutters were hanging off at odd angles and the heavy wooden entrance door was weathered and peeling.
Tank glanced up at the giant pink neon sign on the roof above the door. It had the silhouette of a woman bent at the waist hovering over the letters of the name, her right breast resting on the J. Part of the bulbs were burnt out, so it just blinked Juic Lu. "This place is a shithole," he observed, and I couldn't argue.
"It's probably worse inside," I said and eased my car into an open spot right near the entrance. Tank took note of the security cameras on every corner of the dilapidated structure and lamented the loss of the element of surprise. I killed the engine, and we went over the rest of the file on Guarraci while we waited for backup.
Cal and Happy arrived ten minutes later and we exited the Cayenne as they unfolded their large frames out of Happy's truck. Next to Tank, they were the two largest and most formidable men on staff.
Both of them stood at just over six foot six of solid muscle, both had what Stephanie called resting bitch face, and they each had an alarming tattoo, which couldn't be hidden easily. Cal's was an angry flaming skull on his forehead and Happy's was an enormous spider which covered most of his right cheek. Neither one presented an air of approachability. Of course, the same could be said about Tank.
Johnny usually didn't go anywhere without some muscle, so I thought it appropriate to bring my own. It was also a good idea when dealing with members of the mob to be heavily armed and we were all fully strapped. I quickly laid out the details to Happy and Cal and then Tank swung open the entrance door.
We were immediately assaulted with the scent of cheap beer, stale cigarette smoke and old fried food. The classic strip club staple Pour Some Sugar on Me was blasting from the speakers and we made our way into the main room. There was a single dancer on the stage clad only in a black thong studded with sparkling rhinestones. She was lazily swinging around a pole while Johnny sat at a table right below her, nursing a beer and watching her wiggle around. He appeared to be alone as there was no one else visible but I nodded to Cal and Happy to sweep the room as Tank and I approached the man.
"Hey Johnny," I called loudly, to be heard over the music. He turned his dark head in our direction and I caught the flash of surprise followed quickly by fear in his beady black eyes. "We need to talk."
#-#-#-#-#
It was close to dinner time when we got back to Trenton. The ride was made in relative silence as we contemplated all the intel we'd acquired from John "Johnny Balls" LaRosso. Luck had been on our side when we discovered he was completely on his own in the club, with the exception of the stripper, who'd made herself scarce when I handed her a generous tip to disappear.
There was a single, ill-conceived attempt at escape which was easily thwarted by Cal's fist connecting with his diaphragm and when he insisted he didn't know anything and then refused to talk for several long minutes, an impatient Happy threatened to scoop out his eyeballs with the neck of a broken beer bottle and make him eat them. Coincidently, Johnny got excessively chatty.
He didn't have the information we'd gone there to retrieve but what he did know was going to make capturing Stefano Guarraci much more difficult. And a lot more dangerous.
I turned into Tank's driveway and shifted the car into park. He opened the door and swung out a leg but turned to me before he stepped out. "You gonna tell your wife?"
"I don't keep much from her anymore, Tank. I would like to get corroboration first."
Tank lifted a brow. "But you don't think you need it."
"No," I agreed. "Johnny had no motivation to make up that story, nor is he smart enough to come up with it on this own."
Tank nodded. "Stephanie is going to—"
"I know," I cut him off.
"This could get really messy…and really bloody."
"Highly likely," I concurred. "Say Hi to Beth and Jackson for me and we'll talk in the morning."
Tank accepted the dismissal and headed into his house. I backed out into the street and headed to Rangeman to give my wife some upsetting news.
Happy and Cal were just getting back when I rolled into the garage and I spent a few minutes talking to them about what had gone down. They expressed the same sentiments as Tank as if I wasn't aware of the seriousness of the situation. When they left to hit the gun range, I took the stairs up to five and checked in with Control before running into Michael and Gabriel coming out of the kitchen. I spent some time with them, welcoming them back and getting a brief recap of the day they'd spent with Stephanie before I admitted to myself I was stalling and left them to go face my wife in our penthouse apartment.
I found her in the bathroom and though she wasn't asleep this time, just like this morning, she was gloriously naked.
She was standing in front of the full-length mirror, which hung on the wall next to our walk-in closet, inspecting all the new scars she'd acquired in the past few months. Before she saw me, I took a moment to force away the tightening of my chest and the frown I could feel pulling down my mouth at the sight of them. I thought I was going to lose her that day and the reminder can still cut me to the quick.
When her fingers slid over the surgical scar across her lower abdomen, I moved into the room and slipped my arms around her from behind, covering her hand with mine and pulling her back against my chest. I bent my head and kissed the junction of her neck where it meets her shoulder. "Still thinking about covering this one too?" I asked against her skin and then met her eyes in the mirror.
She let out a little laugh. "You just want your name branded on my back and front, don't you?"
"All I said was it would be some great symmetry." I kissed her neck again and she spun around in my arms and slid hers up around my shoulders. She lifted up onto her toes and pressed her lips to mine softly. My hands settled onto her hips and then I dug my fingers into my name inked on her cheek and pulled her into the hardness she'd created with the gentle kiss. Stephanie's mouth opened on a quick inhale at the contact and I took advantage, seeking her tongue with mine.
We kissed for several long minutes, my dick growing harder with every touch of our tongues. I pulled her tighter against my body and she separated our lips to say, "Why are you always wearing too much clothing?" She tugged at the collar of my shirt and I released her briefly to lift my arms so she could pull it off. After she dropped it on the floor she reached up and pulled at the leather strap holding my hair back. It tumbled down, framing my face, and she tunneled her fingers into it at the temples.
"I like that you're letting your hair grow back. It's sexy as hell." Her tongue swiped across her bottom lip and then she pulled a corner in with her teeth.
I was getting close to losing control and thought I better give her a warning. "You're sexy as hell and if you keep looking at me like that, we're going to miss dinner."
"I don't want dinner," she said and trailed her fingers from my hair down my neck and then scrapped her nails lightly down my chest. Since we were expected at her parents' house, I had no interest either. Her thumbs found the first ridge of my abs and heat started to swirl under her dexterous fingers steadily heading south.
"What do you want?" I asked as she found the button holding my pants together.
"You. Now. Inside me." She undid the button, yanked my zipper down and I lifted her by the waist and spun her around, setting her on the counter next to the sink. She freed me from the confines of my pants and I stepped between her legs. The long length of them wrapped around my back and drew me into the perfect spot. I slid my hands up the outside of her thighs and gripped her hips. Pulling her to me, I thrust into her and caught her mouth with mine in a kiss I didn't stop until she was clenching around me and I was spilling inside her.
My forehead dropped to hers and I stayed there, holding her until my pulse settled back into its normal rhythm. When I eventually pulled back and eased out of her, I found her smiling at me. "That was way better than dinner," she said and I couldn't stop the laugh.
"I agree, but dinner with your parents sets the bar pretty low."
She rolled her eyes but cupped my cheek in her palm. "You are better than any dinner with anyone."
"Thank you," I said. "And so are you." I glanced at my watch. "Not that I want to, but we could still make it if we hurry."
I started to remove the rest of the clothing I hadn't bothered to take off and Stephanie hopped down off the counter and grabbed her robe off the hook on the closet door. "Honestly, I'm in too good of mood to deal with my Mother tonight. Is it okay if we call Ella for food and just stay here?" She slid her arms into the blue silk and tied the sash around her waist.
The thought of dampening her good mood made the tightening in my chest resurface. I'd let her distract me when I got here but I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.
"That is always okay and it's probably better because we need to talk."
"Ut-oh," she responded warily as she watched me shrug on my own robe. "Nothing good ever follows that sentence."
This was true, but it would be worse if I chose not to tell her and she found out another way, a potentially really bad way. "Call your Mom and tell her we won't be there and I'll call Ella and have her bring up some food and then we can talk."
Stephanie exhaled a long breath while squaring her shoulders, bracing for whatever awful thing she knew was coming.
"Just tell me, Ranger. I don't want to wait if it's that bad and I can tell from the look on your face it is."
Even after all this time with her, my first instinct is always to try and protect her from anything I think might upset her and I used to carefully keep any emotion from surfacing on my face so she couldn't see what I was thinking, but I wasn't able do it anymore. She knows me too well. I took her hands in mine and stared into the endless blue depths of her eyes.
"There is a five-million-dollar contract out on Morelli."