Breathless & Bloodstained (The Chicago War #4) (11 page)

“Lay off, Nate.
I’ve got a massive headache and you’re not helping it.”

“Got it, boss.”

As much as Tommas
liked his main enforcer, who also acted as his driver in the daytime, he was
not in the mood for another discussion about what he should or shouldn’t be
doing.

Quietly, Nate
asked, “What did the doctors say?”

“Bad concussion.”

“That all?”

“And a cracked
rib, some internal bruising on my liver and right kidney, but that’s it.”

“No drinking, I
guess.”

Tommas chuckled.
It hurt like hell, but it felt good, too. Leaning back in the comfortable
leather seat and enjoying the heat warming his back, Tommas closed his eyes and
wrapped his arm around his chest to give the injured rib a bit of support.

Anything was
better than nothing.

“No drinking,” he
agreed. “My liver won’t take it right now.”

“You’re one lucky
son of a bitch, Tommas.”

“Thanks.” Tommas
looked Nate over. “Did you grab me a clean suit from my house?”

“Yeah, boss. It’s
in the trunk.”

Nate frowned, his
hands tightening on the wheel like he was thinking about something. Tommas
would recognize that nervous action in his enforcer on any day of the week. He
and Nate had been friends for years, way back when Nate was just a street kid
trying to keep his head above water and Tommas was still learning the streets.

Tommas trusted
Nate more than most people in his life.

“Spit it out,”
Tommas demanded.

“I’m sorry, boss.”

Tommas’ eyes
popped open. “I wasn’t expecting that. What are you sorry for?”

“Last night—I
asked for it off. If I had been around, nobody would have messed with your
car.”

“Nate, you have a
life. I should have known better than to leave my car unattended like that for
hours out in the club parking lot. It had been way too quiet. It was a stupid
move on my part that had little to do with you taking the night off to spend
the evening with your kid.”

Nate nodded. “I
know, but—”

“But nothing. You
only get your daughter a couple of days a month. And a club isn’t the kind of
place for you to be bringing her. I should have had someone else keeping an eye
on my car. Shit, had I parked it in the front lot, I would have caught whoever
it was on camera.”

“Did you get
anyone to check the cameras?” Nate asked.

“Damian went into
the system this morning online. The cops took the hardcopies. There was nothing
to see. Whoever it was probably went in through the back alley, came up to the
car from the other side, tricked the alarm with a wireless program, and set the
bomb.”

Easy fucking
pickings. Tommas had set himself up perfectly for that goddamn bomb. The more
he thought about it, the more agitated it made him.

Thankfully, the
cameras outside of his club were not positioned in the back where Abriella had
come in, and the ones inside were strategically placed as well. Abriella knew
the black zones.

“Is it really a
whoever
kind of situation?” Nate asked.

Tommas kept his
expression a blank mask. “No. We know who did it.”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” Tommas
confirmed. “He even had people at the hospital trying to get info, he put word
on the street wanting to know if the Rossi Capo was down and out, and he went
about his morning like nothing was amiss.”

Which apparently
included taking Abriella and Alessa to breakfast. Yes, Tommas had people
watching. He also knew where Joel had gone after breakfast.

Nate took a corner
a little too sharply for Tommas’ injured rib. Cussing low, Tommas smacked his
enforcer as hard as he could.

“Slower, asshole.”

“Sorry, boss.”

Tommas grunted as
he resituated his frame in the seat. “Speaking of Joel.”

“What about him?”

“I have something
to do today that involves him. I need you to take me. I’m not supposed to drive,
and I want to get this done before I go home and pop my painkillers.”

“Whatever you
want, boss,” Nate said.

“Church,” Tommas
replied. “I want to go to the church.”

“What does that
have to do with Joel?”

“Every Saturday
afternoon he goes to church. Confession, that sort of thing. It’s a habit I’ve
never known Joel to break. If he wants to start playing games, I’m good with
that.”

Not that it
mattered
,
Tommas thought.

Not even God would
save Joel, now. Tommas just had to bide his time, make his moves carefully, and
strike when Joel was at his weakest.

“Is that how you
see almost getting killed by a bomb, as a game?” Nate asked, not sounding the
least bit amused.

“No, but that’s
how Joel sees it. To win the game, you’ve got to play it.”

And play it well.

Tommas carefully
buttoned the cuffs of his clean suit jacket. Too much movement caused him a
great deal of pain, and he didn’t want to show just how much agony he was
actually in. The more pain he felt, the dizzier he became. The last thing he
wanted to do was end up back in the hospital because he had a goddamn spell. At
least, he didn’t want to end up back at the hospital before he got one thing
done.

Tommas had quickly
changed in the Jaguar while Nate had a cigarette a couple of blocks away from
the church. The first thing that Tommas had noticed when they pulled into the
familiar parking lot were the two cars parked close to the front steps.

Joel’s and his
enforcer’s car.

Tommas hadn’t even
gotten out of his car before the Trentini enforcer had pulled out a cell phone.
By the time the guy was talking into his phone, Tommas had already climbed the
steps and entered the church. Knowing what he did about Joel’s routine when it
came to church and confession, Tommas planned on using it to his benefit. Joel
rarely used the confessional room like the other parishioners did. Instead, the
man liked to have his chat one-on-one with the priest while sitting in a pew.

Tommas never
understood Joel’s need to confess his sins. The man had no intention of
changing his behavior or ways. But who was Tommas to judge? He had no intention
of changing, either.

Taking another
breath to will away the dull ache in his chest from his cracked rib, Tommas
pushed the main doors open to walk into the church hall. Bright light filtered
in through the stained glass windows, bathing the floor and pews in a rainbow
of colors.

Instantly, the
sight made Tommas light-headed. He’d been instructed to avoid bright lights, a
lot of movement or noise, and to have someone close by to monitor his physical
state for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours.

This was not
helping his migraine.

Ignoring the
nauseating sensation settling in his stomach, Tommas strolled down the middle
of the aisle between the pews. He found the man he was looking for at the very
front, sitting alone. Making sure to be heard as he rounded the last few rows,
Tommas cleared his throat. Joel didn’t turn around at the sound of Tommas’
approach.

“Afternoon, old
friend,” Joel said quietly.

Tommas sat in the
pew directly beside Joel’s. The moment he was sitting, he felt better and not so
unsteady like before. “Where is the priest? I wasn’t aware confession could be
done alone.”

“I’m supposed to
be doing my penance.”

“Ah.”

“It’s a little
stupid for you to come here, don’t you think?” Joel asked. “I could have you
killed before you even left the parking lot.”

Tommas hummed a
dismissive tune. “No. You see, Nate is outside. He’s watching your man. I’m not
concerned.”

“You never are.”

“Well, I try not
to be.”

Joel glanced to
the side, likely taking in Tommas’ appearance. “At least you’re not dead. I
didn’t hurt you too badly, huh?”

“Water under the
bridge, Joel.”

“Funny.”

Tommas smiled.
“You know how it is.”

“I know you think
you want to be the boss because you believe you’re the only man left in the
Outfit good enough to fill the seat, but you’re wrong. You could just give me
the seat and save us a lot of problems, Tommas.”

“The same could be
said for you.”

“It’s not yours.”

Tommas chuckled dully.
“It’s just as much mine as it is yours, Joel. You have no more or less of a
claim to the boss’s seat than I do. The one difference between you and I is the
fact that you believe it is a birthright and I understand that is it earned.
You wanted it handed to you, like everything else in your life has been, while
I want it because I have earned it.”

“Doing what?”

“Everything that
you couldn’t,” Tommas said simply.

Joel straightened
in the pew, glaring straight ahead.

Ouch.

An angry Trentini
was a dirty one.

“Hit a nerve, did
I?” Tommas asked.

“You know
nothing,” Joel snapped.

“I know your
temper and your lack of control will kill you someday. I know if someone else
doesn’t do it soon, it will eventually happen, Joel. You’re not worthy of this
spot. You simply want it because of your blood and not because it’s who you
are.”

“My blood makes it
who I am, Tommas.”

“A father does not
make his son, Joel.”

Joel released a
harsh breath. “What do you even want to be a boss for? You’re a Capo. It’s all
you’ve ever been. It’s all you’re ever going to be, just like your father.”

Tommas let those
words roll off his shoulders. Joel was only showing his stripes, like every
tiger eventually did. Or rather, like a child being denied what they wanted.
Joel’s temper tantrums were always quick to show.

It wasn’t a shock.

“Then I suppose it’s
a good thing that I spent far more time being raised by every other man in the
Outfit besides my father,” Tommas replied calmly, pretending like his head
didn’t feel as if it was going to explode. “I’ll offer you the same thing you
gave to me, Joel, and nothing more. Let me take the seat with no issues, and
save us a lot of problems in the process. You know the Outfit won’t give it to
you unless you force them into it. For me, however, they’ll hand it over
willingly.”

Tommas was lying
through his teeth. No matter what, Joel would have to go. His life would end by
Tommas’ hand. It was simply a matter of when. But for the sake of everyone
else, Tommas wanted to make that happen as cleanly and easily as possible.

“It’s an easy
choice to make, Joel,” Tommas added.

“You’re wrong.”

“You know I’m
not.”

Joel’s jaw
clenched and his fists balled tightly at his sides. “You—”

“I won’t discuss
or argue this with you, Joel. I’ve given you my offer and that is that. You’ll
either hand me what I want, or I will take it by whatever means necessary.”

Tommas stood from
the pew, ignoring how his vision swam when he was upright once again.

Joel stared up at
him, hatred brimming in his eyes. “Good luck.”

“Don’t bother. I
don’t need it.”

“I nearly got you
this time, Tommas. You didn’t even see me coming.”

Tommas smirked. “I
learn fast.”

Joel nodded.
“Until the next time.”

Clearly, this was
the way that Joel wanted it to go. Bloodstained until the very bitter end.
Tommas didn’t mind. He liked a little blood.

Turning to leave,
Tommas said, “Hand it over, Joel, and make it easy on everyone. You know how
this is going to end.”

“Actually, I
don’t.”

“Then allow me to
enlighten you. Once I step outside of this church, you are a dead man walking.
The bomb was a nice little wakeup call. I needed it. But if there is a next
time, if you really want to play this game with me, I will slaughter you, Joel.
And I will fucking enjoy every single last second of it.”