REMEDY: A Mafia Romance (Return to Us Trilogy Book 3) (10 page)

"Monitor my activity? Like a child?"

"Well, more like an employee. It'll keep you safe."

I'm not happy about it, but I acquiesce. I suppose I can give up talking about shoes for just looking at shoes if it means I can be with Jacade.

"Do you monitor all your employees?"

"No. My security team does."

"Oh."

"They all sign nondisclosure agreements too. Confidentiality is essential in this business."

"Legitimate business?"

He chuckles. "Yes, Ivy. Legitimate business."

He pulls my hips to his and wraps his arms around my back. He squeezes me gently, always mindful of my wound. "Now, why did that weasel think he could come here for sex with the ex?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him since we broke up. I can't imagine why he thought I'd sleep with him."

"Good, because I'm your man. You're mine. No one else calls your booty but me."

I laugh. "Yes, Sir."

"Let's eat. Trip's fantasy chicken is ready."

Ivy

The lambent light from the oil lamp candles on the table cast a sepia glow that softens Jacade's harsh edges. Trip's fantasy chicken was superb, tender and soaked in a rich, tangy wine sauce. The veggies were crisp and sweet with just the right amount of garlic.

"Who taught you how to cook?" I ask as I inhale the ambrosial fragrance of the silky, red-and-white peonies Jacade added to the middle of the table. The luxuriant blooms are so heavy, the stems arch and bend over the edges of the rectangular glass vase. Where did he get fresh peonies in the winter?

"Jude. So I could take care of myself and my mother after he left for college."

He clears the plates and returns with a crystal platter of giant strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. He sets it next to the vase of peonies.

"I shouldn't," I say, fumbling with my napkin in my lap.

"Why not? I thought you liked them."

"I do, but…"

He lifts my chin with his index finger and waits for me to meet his gaze. He stares deep into my eyes and reads my soul. "Forget about him."

"It's not him." I lie and look away. Kevin has me hanging from the edges of the deep hole I've worked so hard to dig myself out of.

"Eyes."

I return my gaze to his and catch a flash of his anger.

He caresses my cheek with his fingertips before wrapping his huge palm around the back of my head. "What he said reflects on him, not you." He twines his fingers in my hair. "Men like him criticize women to control them. He knew you were out of his league, and he insulted you to make you think you couldn't do better. You're looking at better, babe."

He wiggles his fingers along the sensitive skin at the base of my scalp, and I shiver. "Your body is the kind that inspires men to build great works of art. Sleek sports cars are designed in a weak attempt to mimic your natural beauty. I am a mere hard, straight oaf, forever humbled at your feet, begging for a chance to climb inside your soft, luscious form."

I close my eyes and turn my head as heat rises in my cheeks. I shake my head.

"If you won't embrace your curves, I will."

The hand on my neck pulls me to standing. He kisses my cheek and walks me backward to the living room.

He turns on my stereo and sways me to a sensual song where the man sings to the one woman in the world for him. Jacade's rough hands stroke from under my arms to the tops of my thighs.

He nuzzles my neck. "Mmm." The growl in his throat drums the sensitive skin of my neck.

My belly drops. So warm. So smooth. On his next pass, his hands trace the outsides of my breasts and down to my knees. He inhales a long, slow breath as he presses his nose in my cleavage.

I wrap my hands around his head and hold him close. He's so damn virile and strong yet so tender and gentle. How can I not feel desired in his arms?

He rises and cradles my face in his bear paws. I tilt my head into his possessive hold.

"Meant for me. Only girl in the world." He talks so low I can barely hear him.

God, I remember when we danced like this in the office at the suites.

I'm yours
.
Even if death parts us briefly
,
I belong to you
.

I pulled away then, overwhelmed by the intimacy. Now, I welcome the wall of love that slams into me. His words saturate my parched heart. He's mine. Our bond transcends mortality and time.

I wrap my arms behind his back and tense my fingertips into his mighty shoulders. He slips his thigh between my legs, and my breath quickens. His hips swivel and mash against mine. Our sentimental embrace fires into a sensual tango. I grind my sex on his leg and squeeze my thighs around him. My seductive dance moves pull a groan from deep in his throat. I know that groan and what comes next.

"Don't stop." I beg. "Don't stop and tell me we can't make love."

He freezes. His head rises from my neck.

"No. Please. Let's just dance like this."

He jerks his head and squints at his phone on the kitchen counter. I didn't even hear it vibrate. He must have dog hearing.

He releases me and grabs his crotch as he struts to his phone.

Who the heck is sending my man a message right now?

He coughs and returns to me, holding out the screen of his phone. It shows a woman climbing the stairs to my apartment. I scan the bit of her face sticking out from under the hood of her thick, camel-hair peacoat.

Aunt Helen. Why is she here?

"I told you no one approaches unnoticed," he says with a grin.

Aunt Helen hurries out of the wind and into my living room as I let her in. She offers me a tight smile and brief hug. "Hi, sweetie." Her eyes glow with affection but exhaustion paints the wrinkles around the edges. "Jacade." She acknowledges his presence but without warmth.

"Helen." Jacade sets his hands on his hips and presses his lips together. "What brings you here?"

"I need to talk to both of you." She pulls off her gloves and coat, and I take them from her as she settles on the couch. "Are we clear?"

Huh?

I sit next to her, and Jacade stands on the opposite side of the coffee table, facing both of us. He crosses his arms over his chest and spears Aunt Helen with an impatient glare.

"Yes, of course," he says.

Oh, right. Bugs.

Aunt Helen settles her gaze on Jacade. "My dad's forcing an early vote. He wants to know who will succeed him. The vote will be in ten days."

"Ten days? What the fuck!" He exhales and scratches his head.

"It's his call. He says he's tired of everyone waiting around for him to die."

Jacade paces away from us, and Aunt Helen speaks to his back. "You need to put tails on Bernard and Gerry. Once they catch wind of this, they're going to rev up their scheming."

He spins and glares at her. "No shit?" His shoulders rise and his voice is harsh. "You think I haven't been riding their asses since the shooting?" He grabs his gun and shoves it in his hip holster. "Clueless bitch."

Jacade doesn't even notice the scolding look I give him for talking to my aunt like that. The beast is pissed again. His neck strains. His cock is still hard. He breathes heavy like a bull facing a red cape.

Oy vey. Hottest piece of man I've ever seen. Aunt Helen needs to leave so I can ride the wild bull.

"Jacade, I know you and I have had our issues, but we need to be civil with each other to protect Ivy." Aunt Helen squeezes my hand.

"Agreed," he answers curtly and shifts his feet.

"I can protect myself. Have you forgotten I rescued Jacade?"

They stare at me with slack jaws and blank looks. Did my tongue crawl out of my mouth and onto the coffee table for a handshake? Hello? I tap the fake microphone. Is this thing on?

"You have no concept of the type of people you're dealing with," Aunt Helen says with condescension in her voice.

"Ivy, I wouldn't put anything past Bernard or Gerry." Jacade adds to Aunt Helen's statement.

"Even if it's me?" I ask. My uncle Bernie wouldn't hurt me. Would he?

"Especially if it's you." Jacade's cryptic tone shoots ice down my spine.

Aunt Helen addresses Jacade. "Make sure to keep Ivy clear of Raymond. He can never meet her. He will surely see Vera in her features." She cups my face in her hand. "I know I do."

"Hold on. Raymond is on his deathbed. How the hell is he cognizant enough to demand an early vote?" Jacade asks.

Aunt Helen chuckles. "He's more aware of what's going on than you think."

Silence falls in the small living space as we all retreat within to contemplate the news Aunt Helen has brought to my door.

Aunt Helen pops up and puts on her coat. She tightens her belt and says, "I need to go and take care of a few matters." She clutches my shoulders and stares into my eyes. "No ditching Jacade or Shane."

"He's already given me the same speech, Aunt Helen." I roll my eyes at Jacade.

"Now you're getting it from me. This vote is going to stir up some skeletons and unfortunately you're one of them. I love you."

"I love you too."

She kisses my cheek and heads to the door. She turns and aims her gaze at Jacade. "If it's you or her?"

"Not even a question. Always me," he answers.

She nods and tugs her hood over her head as the front door closes behind her.

He sighs and ambles around the coffee table to sit next to me on the couch. He focuses on his interlocked fingers between his legs. "This is a mess. Ten days is nothing. I thought I'd have more time, but yet again, the rug is pulled out from under me and I'm forced to face this shit unprepared. The vote changes everything. I was waiting until you recover. Until Raymond dies. Always waiting. Now it's here in my fucking face and you're not even healed yet. It's all happening too fast." He rubs his eyes and growls.

"What did she mean by you or her?"

His gaze scans my face and settles on my lips. "She wanted to make it clear, I save you and not myself."

"What? No!" My crazed yell bounces off the walls.

"I'm not someone worth saving. What you said in Viktor's cell was true. I'm a ghetto thug."

"I'm sorry I said that. I had to lie to get you out of there."

His eyes close and he mumbles. "No. Leo was so right. My life's a sham. My soul is damned."

I trail my fingers through his hair above his ear. "Hey, hey, hey. Leo was wrong. Your soul is priceless. You're my someone to save." My tender tone doesn't halt his conviction.

He glances at me. "No matter how the vote goes, you have to remove yourself from my life. I'm not man enough to tell you to go, because my entire being doesn't want that to happen. The only way for you to have a sheltered life is for you to forget all about me."

What the hell? "How much wine have you had?"

"I'm not drunk. I'm thinking clearly. I have nothing to offer you." His shoulders slouch, and he glares at his shoes.

His words evoke a memory, but I can't pin it down. Wait. He said the same thing when he told me the story of his bargain with Bernard. God, has this man spent his whole life believing he has nothing to offer?

"You have everything I want." My voice cracks.

He shakes his head and looks at me. "You don't get it." Agony swirls in his eyes. He presses his lips together and stands. "You need to experience this shit. Get dressed. Dark colors and a hat."

I stand and look up at him.

"No heels," he says low and fierce. He dips his face and holds my gaze. "No wedges either."

Uh oh.

Jacade

Ivy and I sit in her Challenger looking across the street at the weathered brick building known as the track. With two burner phones in my hands, I call one with the other and mute the second one.

"Here. Yours is muted, but you'll be able to hear me," I say while handing it to her in the passenger seat.

"Why can't I come in with you again?" She glances at the screen then peers past me to the track.

"The only women in there are spreading their legs for money."

"I thought men came here to gamble?"

I blink at her. What does she think men do while they gamble? Women. Lots of women.

"They do. They also come to fuck."

She sucks in an uneven breath, and her breasts rise and fall under the tight, black turtleneck she's wearing. She touches her glossy lower lip and adjusts the funky felt hat on her head. Turn off the goddamn cute and sexy right now, Ivy. I need to fucking concentrate.

"If you lose the call, something went wrong. Floor it and get the hell out of here. Shane'll follow you."

She arches her neck and looks out the back window. "I didn't see Shane."

"Exactly."

"I'm not leaving without you," she says with a stubborn pout.

"Bullshit. You leave. Follow orders, Ivy. It's the only way to survive out here." I check the chamber of my Sig and glare at her in the darkness of the car. Her eyebrows pull together. "No worries. They won't fuck with me." I raise my pant leg and flash my smile as I show her the Glock and knives strapped to my right calf.

She sighs and looks out the windshield.

I exit the car and poke my head in before closing the door. "Slide over. Keep the engine running."

She works her way over the center console and into the driver's seat. I watch her breasts jiggle and her ass stick out in the air during her awkward climb.

She plops behind the wheel and says, "Just be careful," with a sigh.

"Only for you, love."

"Check your gun."

She pulls her pistol from her purse and racks the slide. Her limp wrist rests on the seat next to her right thigh with the gun pointed forward. I need to get her to the range for more practice.

"Both hands. Hold it ready at your hip."

My words seem to snap her out of her lackadaisical mood. She sits up straight and assumes a decent grip.

"Better. Stay in the car. It's armored and fast. You're safe in here."

"Okay." Her forehead wrinkles, and she pulls her lips between her teeth.

I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. "Ivy, I've been doing runs like this since I was eighteen. I'll be fine."

"Famous last words." She twists her head and kisses my hand.

Before I leave, I motion for her to lock the doors. They click locked, and she blows me a kiss. I wink at her and jog to the alley across the street.

Bang
-
bang
-
bang
.

My fist rattles the metal door of the side entrance to the track.

Bang
-
bang
-
bang
.

A tall fucker, who I've seen maybe once, peeks out.

"Password?"

"We're the monsters of the Midwest." It changes every week; I'm astonished I remembered it. I'm never here anymore. He opens the door for me.

"Where's Bernard?"

His body stiffens at my curt tone. He slowly turns his eyes to mine. "Do I look like his secretary?" He assesses me from head to toe, sizing me up.

I hate the assholes they choose to do to this job. I grin and relax my posture. "What's your name?"

"Harris. Who the hell are you?" He plants his feet and squares his shoulders.

"Well, Harris, I'm not one to tell you how to do your job, but"—my volume rises, and I clench my teeth as I get in his face—"you might want to get your fucking mouth in check."

"Fuck you, man."

"Also, remember, we're all packing." I shove the barrel of my gun under his chin and smile. "I'm Trip, motherfucker."

His eyes pop wide and his shoulders tremble. Yeah, my name does that to people.

"Uh… shit. Fuck. Sorry, uh, Trip. First night here."

"You givin' me excuses, Harris?" I slide the gun down his trachea and drag out his name like we're old friends. No one gives Trip excuses. Not twice.

"No, man. Shit. Sorry. Ugh… Shit."

Christ. They've got fucking pussies guarding the entrance. I survey the room, but don't see Bernard. "Now, where the hell is he?"

His finger quakes as he points to the door on the far side of the massive space. It appears Bernard is getting his knob rocked in the private room.

"Thank you kindly," I say saccharine sweet and holster my pistol.

Harris, the lameass doorman, deflates and steadies himself on the wall. Moron.

I enter the smoky room and note four men playing poker at a square table to my left, one of them being Mahoney. He glances up at me and snarls his lip before returning to his cards.

Fuck your mother backward, Mahoney.

On my way to the back hallway, I tilt my chin to Dr. Momen, Judge Conroy, and Senator Thurman playing pool with Amber and some high-class call girls. Quick inspection of Amber reveals she's recovered from her beating. Good to see Conroy with her.

I stop at the metal door leading to the only room at the end of the narrow hallway. Tradition says you don't interrupt activities in the private room no matter what. Even in an emergency, you wait outside and let the man get off first.

However, I don't give a flying fuck about Bernard and slip my key into the lock. Peeking my head in, I see Bernard lounging on the couch, one arm extended along the top, his neck reclined. A hooker with short, dark hair bobs on his cock.

"Don't forget to have her lick your nards," I say as I step into the room, gun drawn.

Bernard's eyes snap open, and his head turns in my direction. He grunts and kicks the hooker off him. She thumps to the floor in front of the couch. Bernard jumps up and fumbles with his pants.

"What the fuck!" His voice is panicked.

"Aww, Bernard, it's not polite to kick your whore off your dick."

He yanks at his zipper. "Trip! You know the fucking rules. You don't barge in here. What the hell?"

The blowjob slut sits up and stares at me.

No.

Where the fuck is the hidden camera?

Chowder?

Fucking Chowder is sitting on the floor at Bernard's feet!

He stands and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Get the fuck out, Chowder," Bernard says, looking at me but tilting his head to his right.

"No. I'm not leaving you alone with him," Chowder responds with a petulant shake of his head.

"Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on here." I point the barrel of my gun between Bernard's eyes.

Is this a setup? I quickly check behind me. No one. The dark corners of the room—empty. This must be a fucking joke.

"Chowder, go!" Bernard yells.

Chowder scowls at me as he scampers out of the room. I keep my gun trained on Bernard and check to make sure Chowder leaves the hallway.

"Now, put the gun down." Bernard tips his chin at my gun.

"I'll holster my gun when I'm goddamn ready. Explain this shit."

He holds up his hands trying to placate me. "Okay, just come sit with me." He motions to the couch.

"Not after what I just saw."

"Fine. I'll sit," he says.

I walk around the couch and face him.

"Seriously, Jacade. Put the gun away."

"Talk. Before I put one between your dentures."

"I'm bisexual."

I lower my gun. "What?"

"I have sex with both men and women."

"I know what bisexual means. Chowder though?"

He nods.

"He's on drugs, Bernard." Why would he get involved with an addict?

"I'm not proud of this, but I'm giving him coke in exchange for sex."

I'm in a comic book, and the artist just drew my head exploding and splattering onto the next page.

I throw my hands up in the air. "Bernard! What the hell? Have a bottom dweller supply him, never you!"

"It's beyond stupid, but I like his company. It keeps him coming back for more."

Well, now I know why he brought Chowder to the office with him when Amber was attacked. They were probably here when I called him.

How could I have missed this about Bernard?

"How many others have there been?" I croak out my question because I'm not sure I want the answer.

He looks at the floor. "A few."

Bernard and I hang out.

I had Bernard by the balls for years.

I was trying to get Bernard's attention.

Jesus. Why didn't I see it?

Completely failing at hiding the mortification in my voice, I ask Bernard the most absurd question ever asked. "Were you fucking Viktor?"

Bernard nods slowly. "I was in a relationship with Viktor on-and-off for ten years. I think he thought I'd help him win a vote. I broke it off with Viktor when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer four years ago."

I had no inkling Viktor liked men. I'd never seen him with a man. Never seen him with Bernard. I need to start paying closer attention.

Fuck Chowder
.
I don't give a shit about Chowder
.

Viktor was jealous of Chowder. But why take it out on Ivy and me?

Bernard watches me return my gun to my hip. "Viktor liked edge play… asphyxiation, knives."

I flinch at his candid admission and turn my head. I glance back at him through squinted eyes.

"He wanted me to choke him till he blacked out. Knife play that would cause small cuts but not scar. He trusted me since I'm a physician. I humored him for several years until I had to go through chemo. He got needy and impatient, calling at all hours of the night and sending endless text messages when I was sick."

He needs to stop talking. Why is he sharing this crap with me?

He sighs. "I started living healthier, going to yoga regularly, and he didn't fit into my world anymore. He lost it, and threatened Ivy to get my attention. I ended it for good after that."

"Anyone else?"

"No one important." He stands and walks to the arm of the couch. He leans his hip on it and crosses his legs at the ankles. "I've really only loved one man, but he didn't love me back. He doesn't swing my way. Loyal to one woman."

"Unlike you." I cross my arms over my chest and widen my stance. "Does Helen know?"

"Of course not. I love her and I fuck her too."

Gross. I'm done with this conversation.

"It's not all black and white, Jacade." The defensive edge in his tone softens. "Helen's not into my kink."

You mean Helen doesn't want to be choked and cut while you fuck her? Imagine that. Oh god, no. Don't imagine that. Fuck. I take a step to leave.

"Viktor liked women as well. He was in love with Ivy when he was with her."

His mention of Ivy stops me, and I return my gaze to him.

"He asked me for her in the police station too, just like you did. I thought she would be safer with him than with me because she'd be farther from the fire. After things went south between her and Viktor, I realized she was better off with Helen and me."

I laugh at his stupidity. "But not with me?"

"No. Not you. Not yet. You were still too young and impulsive. You've come a long way with your self-control. When she broke up with Kevin, I needed your help to keep Viktor from her, and I knew it was time. You were ready. Remember, I care about you and want the best for both of you."

Sure, old man. I'm not ordering what you're peddling. Your entire life has been about you and your twisted motives.

"You have to tell Helen. You're exposing her to disease."

"I play safe with all my partners."

Okay. Way too much information. I'm outta here.

"Who told you to come here?" he asks my back. "Someone tip you off about Chowder and me?"

"No. I had no clue. I came to discuss another issue and walked into this scene." I point to the couch. Two men getting their rocks off doesn't faze me. Ivy's geriatric uncle with my childhood friend and my lifetime nemesis squicks me right the fuck out.

"What did you come for?" He's calmer than before. Probably because he's come clean with me and I haven't threatened to expose him.

"Who else knows about Ivy?" I ask.

"Viktor, Helen, and now you."

"That's it? You didn't spill your guts to any other boy toys?"