REMEDY: A Mafia Romance (Return to Us Trilogy Book 3) (21 page)

Wow. How long have these items been waiting for me to need them?

How long has my hot ass doc been waiting?

Too long.

Jacade

No message on my phone from Shane, but the clock tells me Ivy should have arrived at Jett's chateau by now.

Dix the Fixer's cleaning crew marches through my private residence. Dix nods in my direction as he passes by with more supplies and tools.

Twisted mop strands drag across my marble floors, disinfecting my citadel.

"Trip…" Jett's voice. "Bro, when was the last time you ate?"

"Last night," I say.

Jett steps to the side to block my view.

"You should think about doing that," he snickers, "and soon."

I glare at him and sweep my arm in the direction of the workers. "I have a fucking elder's head in my bathroom sink! I can't order a pizza. Christ, man. Get your priorities straight."

My fingertips turn white as I grip the counter and drop my head. I don't have the time or patience to contend with Jett.

"Damn, boss. It's not like his head has a date to the prom or anything tonight." He mumbles.

I chuckle and glance up at him. "Make yourself useful and pull the security footage."

"Already on it." He points to his phone on the counter.

I tilt my head toward the master bedroom behind him. "I want the entire bathroom gutted and redone. No memories."

"Dix knows how to do his job."

"Go make sure."

He exhales and rises from the barstool. His low voice carries while he speaks to Dix.

My hands scrape through my grubby hair. What a goddamn clusterfuck! I bet Ray didn't have to deal with this kind of shit during his first few days.

As Jett returns to the kitchen, I say, "This was an inside job."

"Looks like it." Jett slides onto the barstool opposite me. "Boothby?"

"Nah, man. He doesn't have the audacity. You should've seen him cave when I came down on him. He got where he is by kissing ass his whole life."

Jett rubs his chin with his forefinger and thumb. "Who else wants to get your attention?"

"Lots of fuckers, but inside? I dunno. Who'd want to take out Bernard as a warning to me? Doesn't seem like Mahoney's M-O."

"Anyone else know about Bernard's expansion plans?" Jett asks.

"The twenty-one council members at the vote and anyone they blabbed to."

Dix walks past us with Bernard's head in a shiny black trash bag. Jett and I follow the zip-tied lump until it's out of sight.

So this is how it ends for Bernard. A dishonorable death for the duplicitous prick. Enjoy hell, fucker.

Jett breaks the silence. "Is it possible Clemente caught wind of Bernard's big ideas?"

"Maybe. If they did, they might think I was in on it with Bernard."

"Lucero's a sick fuck. He's big on physical messages. He sent Raymond Joey Catalano's finger for shipping a hot Lamborghini to Italy ten years ago."

"He did? You didn't tell me?"

"Not one to sit around and gossip, Trip."

"Bernard mentioned a shipping deal with the Nigerians."

Jett's eyes widen. "He did? Stupid bastard. He pissed off half of Italy with his moronic idea."

And there we have it. Bernard threatened Clemente and paid for it swiftly. "Can you get me a meet with Lucero?"

He picks up his phone and starts texting. "Hold on. I have some contacts." He sets his phone down and peers at me. "I put it out there. We'll see how long it takes for a response."

"You gotta come to the meet with me."

He hisses. "I'm not sure, little brother. I don't like my face out there."

"Jett, you'll take my six. Bring backup." There's no room for dissention. I need him.

"All right, boss. You got it." His phone buzzes and he checks his texts. "Tomorrow around one work for you?"

"Yeah."

"They jumped at the meet," he says.

"They're eager. Clemente's behind this."

"Aggressive move on his part with the head." He stands and shoves his phone in his pants pocket. "I'll scope it out for you. Pick you up here at 12:30 tomorrow."

I nod and he leaves in the elevator.

I swipe a new burner phone from the kitchen drawer.

Time to hear my lady's voice.

Shane's quick to pick up but doesn't speak.

"Jordan was the greatest." I say our first code sentence.

"What about Pippen?" Shane responds.

"Nah, Jordan is the best." Michael and me.

"Sir."

"Put her on."

Shane gives Ivy instructions. "No names, locations, or other pertinent information."

"Okay." Her sweet voice licks my ears. "Hello?"

"Hi, babe."

"Hi." She inhales. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

She releases her breath.

"Did you tell, umm… her?"

"I did. She's upset. Understandable."

"I'm concerned about her. Is there any way she can come to the ca… uh, here?"

Damn, honey. Watch what you say.

"I'm not sure we can trust her."

"I think we can. She hasn't given us any reason to doubt her. Please. I want to comfort her and mourn with her."

Shit.

"I'll have her brought to you tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay. What about you?" she asks.

"I'll be there tomorrow evening." My fingers rake through my hair. "Be good till then, okay?"

"I will."

"Hand the phone back."

"Don't want to." My dick throbs at her petulant tone.

"Baby, I can't wait to be with you." And inside you.

"Make it quick then." Believe me, I'll follow that demand.

"Yes, ma'am." I chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"I believe that's the first time you've ever encouraged me to be quick."

"Oh lord. You're… you're…"

"Hilariously fuckable?"

"Grr. Yes." Her laugh brings vitality to my heartless body. "See you soon."

There's some rustling on the line before Shane grunts into the phone.

"Tomorrow. Horse and Dog will be joining you at 5:00 pm. Call me when they arrive."

I'd prefer to have Jett drive Helen instead of Dix, but I need Jett with me at the meet. Dix is trustworthy, so he can do the job.

"I'll be there by six. Keep her safe."

"Ten-four."

I close the phone and collapse onto my couch.

Fucking hell.

At 12:55 pm the next day, Jett parks our stolen jalopy a block south of the Ciao Butcher Shop. Of course Lucero would set up a meet in a location that gives him access to cleavers and meat hooks.

Under a red, white, and green striped awning in front of the main entrance, two thugs lounge at an iron table.

"He wants us unarmed," Jett says coldly. "So, if this goes south, munitions are stashed there." Jett points to a dumpster in the alley. "We have six men guarding the perimeter just in case." His eyes scan the rooftops down the street.

"Exits?" I ask.

"Front, back, kitchen. I fastened two Sigs under the chairs at the first table on the right next to the entrance." Jett is cool, calm, and collected.

"Nice." The tension in my neck lessens a tad.

"Also hacked their security cam to keep the clock accurate, but the image looping on an empty room." He laughs.

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Just to fuck with 'em."

"Jesus, Jett. You're gonna get us clipped."

"Nah. They'll have no clue it was me." He pauses. "Plus, if you die, Ivy will clip me."

"Yes, she will."

"After the meet, we walk north. Our ride'll be waiting 'round the corner."

"Got it," I say while concentrating on the shop again.

"You ready?" Jett grabs the door handle.

"Yeah. Let's go have a chat with this son of a cunt."

We step out of the beater and cross the street. The two thugs stand as we approach. One has a keloid burn scar running up his right cheek to his ear. The other goon is smaller and has his hair styled in a bouffant like Bruno Mars.

"Lucero's expecting us. Trip and Jett."

Burn Mark slips inside while Bruno Mars barricades the front door. Jett remains silent behind me.

Burn Mark returns and holds the door open for us.

"Arms out," Bruno Mars says.

I raise my limbs and he pats me down. I step aside to allow Jett to be frisked. Burn Mark leads us to a back room where a man sits reading the newspaper and sipping an espresso. With his deeply pocked, bronze skin and slick ebony hair, I presume this is Lucero.

He meets my gaze with dispassionate eyes. One gold tooth interrupts his pearly smile.

"Ah, the infamous brothers, Trip and Jett." His Italian accent rolls the
R
in my name and changes Jett's
J
to a soft
G
. "Please, sit. Grab another chair per tuo fratello." He points to some wooden chairs in the corner.

"I'll stand. Thank you." Jett walks to the entrance and leans his back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. A strategic viewpoint for him.

I sit opposite Lucero and stare him down. His manicured cuticles relay he keeps his hands clean, but his dead eyes can't hide the years of manipulation and fighting to survive. "Listen, Lucero…"

"Call me, Sal. Would like you an espresso?"

"No, thank you. I appreciate you taking the meet with me today."

"No problem. Congratulations on your victory. Huge upset for a man as young as yourself to be appointed boss."

"Thank you, but I'm here to clear up a misunderstanding."

"By all means, my friend. The floor is yours." He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs at his knees. His jacket lapels fall to his hips, and I catch a glimpse of two hostlers behind his paunch.

The capo gets to come heavy, and I'm the unarmed Sally. Not a good situation.

Get in and get out, Trip.

"Yesterday, my woman and I returned home to Bernie Heldman's head in my sink. Gave her quite the fright."

Lucero doesn't blink. "That's unfortunate." His responses are eloquent but his elbows are pulled into his body.

"Any idea who sent it?" I ask him.

"No idea." His face remains composed, but his skin drains of color.

He's behind this.

"Well, it's a shame Bernie had to die, considering he was on his way out anyway."

"He was?" He acts disinterested, but I can see the shock behind his beady eyes.

"Yes. Perhaps you haven't heard? The CSA is going legit, Sal. Bernie was out already if he wasn't on board with that."

Lucero smirks. "Your men will flip on you faster than a whore on her back if you go clean, Trip."

"Let them leave then."

"In fact, one of your soldiers has already expressed an interest in changing allegiances," he says with a sip out of his tiny cup. "Unhappy his supply was cut off."

Shit.

"Regardless, the CSA has no intention of infringing on Clemente territory."

"I'll take your word on that, Trip."

"You have my word." I rise from the table. "Do me a favor and spread the message here and in Sicily."

He puts his cup down to stand and shake my hand. "Will do. And you'll owe me one."

I nod, but fuck him if he thinks I owe him shit. I owe him a bullet for killing an elder in my outfit based on misinformation.

Jett follows me out the main entrance, and we walk north in silence. Around the corner, a charcoal Chrysler 300S with blackout tinting pulls to the curb. Jett and I slide into the back and keep to ourselves.

My boiling blood heats my skin. There's only one man whose supply has been cut off and might know how to get into my home. That same man might not be opposed to killing Bernard to prove his loyalty to Clemente.

Jett hands me his phone. He shows me the security footage of the night Bernard's head was dropped off. An intruder dressed all in black—head and hands covered—enters my penthouse through the private garage entrance. I don't recognize his frame, but I do recognize… his limp.

Fucking rat bastard.

Ivy

The last dribble of mayonnaise from a packet looks pathetic in the center of my slice of bread. There's not enough for one sandwich let alone two.

"Shane!" I yell from the kitchen as I spread the drop with a knife.

He sticks his head in the front door. "Yeah?"

"There's not enough mayonnaise for our sandwiches." I hold up the piece and show him the lack of condiment.

"I'll eat mine plain." He closes the door.

I march to the door and whip it open.

"I could eat mine plain too. That's not the point. Let's run to the store and get some food."

He perches his hip on the porch railing and surveys the surrounding forest. "No. Dr. Ellis is bringing supplies."

"Jett's coming? With Jacade?" My watch says 4:50 pm. Jacade said he'd be here in the evening. "Ask them to bring some cookies and…"

He leaps in front of me and covers his gun on his hip. His attention is glued to the end of the long driveway and his shoulders are tight, his arms away from his body. "Get back inside. Lock the door."

"What?" I cover my eyes to peer down the drive. "Is someone coming?"

A jet-black car rounds the corner at the bottom of the drive and crunches on the gravel toward us. Shane dials his phone and holds it at his ear with his neck crooked. He straightens both arms and aims the barrel of his gun at the car.

"Now!"

Oh shit. What's going on?

I scurry into the cabin and peek out the window.

A slate AMG Mercedes stops twenty feet from the porch.

"Stay in your vehicle!" Shane screams at the driver.

The hum of the engine cuts out, and the people in the car don't move. My heart pounds in my chest. Did someone find us?

Shane speaks quickly into his phone. "Three instead of two just arrived in a black Merc. Horse, Dog… and Cat."

What the hell? There's no horse? Is there a dog and cat in the car?

Shane listens for second. "Ten-four." He drops the phone in his pocket and adjusts his stance.

"Toss your weapons!" Shane's booming command rattles in my bones.

The driver-side window descends, and three guns thud to the ground next to the car.

"Hands up!" Shane yells as he approaches the vehicle.

The driver puts two hands out the window. Inside the car, I can make out two more sets of hands, but the windows are too dark for me to decipher faces.

Shane swipes the three weapons off the ground, puts two in his waistband, and points one at the driver. He aims the gun in his other hand on the passenger in the backseat.

Wow. Shane has two guns trained on our mysterious visitors. I crack the window open to hear them better.

"Step out."

A burly man with raven hair and beard emerges slowly from the driver's seat. "What's the problem, Shane?"

"Why'd you bring him, Dix?" He tilts his gun toward the backseat.

Dix? Is he the dog?

"Mrs. Heldman said boss's orders."

Shane motions for the passenger to exit the car. Aunt Helen gets out with an impatient scowl on her face. "Stand down, Shane."

Aunt Helen is the horse! I cracked Shane's secret code. I feel like a mystery sleuth. So who is the cat?

"Let them come inside, Shane. We've had a long drive and it's cold out here. We're unarmed. You know Chowder is safe." Aunt Helen speaks with a condescending tone.

Chowder? The one who, ya know, with Uncle Bernie? He's the cat? Why would Aunt Helen bring him here?

Shane puts down one of his guns but keeps the other trained on the Mercedes. He holds up a finger for her to wait and dials on his phone again. "Horse wants Cat to wait inside." His eyebrows scrunch as he stares at Chowder in the backseat. He nods and ends the call. "You can come in. One at a time. Stop here for a search." He points to the bottom of the stairs. "Mrs. Heldman first."

Aunt Helen tramples to the spot and lifts her arms. "This is ridiculous. I'm the boss's daughter. You don't search me."

Shane pats her down but pauses on her shoulders. He pokes her as if questioning something before he resumes. What is up?

"You can enter." He unlocks the cabin door, and Aunt Helen rushes to me. Her hair's a mess and she's wearing a bulky sweater, but it's so good to see her.

She tugs me to the couch and covers my hands with hers. "Oh, Ivy."

"Aunt Helen, thank god you're here." When we hug, I notice her chest feels thick and inflexible. I run my hands down her back. "Are you wearing a bulletproof vest?"

"Shh! Let's not talk about it."

Oh my god. Is she in danger?

"Anyway, I'm so sorry about Uncle Bernie. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now," I say, following her instructions to avoid talking about the armor she's wearing under her shirt.

"I'm still processing everything." She glances at the closed front door.

She's agitated, but doesn't respond to my question with the grief I expected to hear. "You're not upset?"

"Of course I am." She squeezes my fingers. "Your uncle was a backstabbing cheat. It makes me nauseous to think about how he deceived us both."

"Me too."

Oh crap.

"Did you… whack him?" I whisper.

"God, no. Despite all his wrongdoing, he was still there for us and protected us for many years. His heart was in the right place, on occasion. He didn't deserve to die this way."

"Good. I'm not sure I could handle finding out you're a murderer today."

"I'm not. However, after I found out he sold you out, he's lucky I didn't get to him first. It wouldn't have been his head I cut off."

Damn, ouch. Aunt Helen's hiding some Bobbitt tendencies.

"Do you have any idea who would do this to him?"

"Yes, but please, just drop it." Her hands shake as she draws me into an embrace. "I'm so glad you're okay. Not like Jacade would ever let anything happen to you, that's for sure."

Shane walks through the front door and stalks behind the two men from outside. "Sit there." He points to the kitchen table. "If you move, I'll kill you."

Dix looks back at Shane and nods. "No problem."

I expect Chowder to respond to Shane too, but he only grins and laughs as he takes his seat.

Chowder is tall and thin, not a bad-looking guy. His dark shaggy hair and leather jacket give him a rock-star vibe. He's kind of twitchy and limping like life has dragged him down, but he seems like a decent person. Not sure why the heck everyone is treating him like public enemy number one.

Shane bolts the front door and takes a seat in a chair turned backward, his gun focused on Chowder. His gaze flicks to Aunt Helen and me on the couch. "Dr. Jordan will be here in the next hour. Until then, everyone stay where you are."

The room goes quiet as we stare at each other.

Thirty tense minutes later, all eyes in the room look toward the front windows at the sound of a car driving up and a door slamming.

Shane stands and walks backward to the window. He doesn't go into defensive mode so he's not as concerned about this car. Maybe it's Jacade. Finally.

Shane opens the front door, and Jett struts in. He clutches a bag of groceries in one arm and holds up a giant tub of mayonnaise in the other. "Who ordered the lube?" He smirks at me and surveys the four men in the room. "Ah shit, this is a fucking cock party. I shoulda brought some girls." He saunters through the cabin and sets his supplies on the kitchen counter. "And more mayo."

Shane glares at me as I laugh at Jett. What? He's funny.

Jett unpacks some bread and other food items on the kitchen counter. He turns and hooks his fingers on the belt loops of his stonewashed jeans. I try not to stare at the imprint of his phone in his pocket or how sexy his gun looks in his holster. His white dress shirt hugs his ripped shoulders, tapers against his lean torso, and tucks into his jeans at his thin hips.

My gaze locks with his. He glances down at his physique then back up at me with a wink.

He saw me! Dammit! Jett always catches me.

Jett's eyes look to the doorway and his impishness dissolves as swiftly as it materialized. Jacade is standing there with shoulders back, gun drawn, pissed as hell.

Uh oh, did he see me ogling his brother? It was innocent, I swear. But Jacade's not looking at me. His glare is riveted on Chowder at the kitchen table.

Jett takes a step behind Chowder's chair and speaks in his indomitable Master Jett voice. "Now let's get the fuck down to business."

***

Jacade

What the fuck! Is this a damn block party with a murderer?

My eyes seek out and zero in on Chowder. I'm about to approach him when feminine, warm arms wrap around my neck. The scent of jasmine wafts into my nostrils.

My girl.

"I missed you." She whispers in my ear and mashes her tits against my abs. Without taking my eyes off Chowder, I kiss the soft skin of her neck.

"Jacade, look at me." She strokes my cheek.

Not right now, dear. "Go back to the couch."

Her hand stills on my face. "Huh? No. You just got here…"

"Sit." I grit my teeth and force myself not to look into her distressed eyes, even though her gaze is calling me to her. No, I can't be swept away by her right now.

Shane positions himself next to Jett behind Chowder at the table. We've got him surrounded.

Helen stands and ambles toward the kitchen. "Relax. There's food. Let's eat."

"You." She freezes at my formidable words. "Outside."

"Let me just grab a sandwich." She reaches for a plate.

"Are you tone deaf or just dense?"

Helen's mouth drops into a stupid circle.

Ivy slaps my chest. "Jacade! Don't talk to her like that."

"I seem to remember telling you to park it on the couch." With a push on her ass, I keep my glare narrowed on Helen.

Sorry, sweetheart. I'm Trip, today. Not Jacade. Gotta handle this like a boss.

Ivy plods off to the couch. She crosses her arms over her chest and falls onto the cushions.

Finally, she sits.

Helen pops a hip and speaks down to me. "Trip, watch y—"

"Outside, Helen." She needs to get inline.

Helen huffs out her defeat and tromps past me.

I slam the door behind us and follow Helen to a spot on the driveway out of earshot of the cabin. "What the fuck were you thinking? You brought Chowder with you? Do you know what could've happened?"

She examines my ferocious mug and realization flashes in her pupils. "You found out he killed Bern?"

"Yes. And you fucking invited him to tea with my woman at her safe house!"

"Let me kill him." She talks fast and desperate. "Give me my gun back. I have it all planned out. I brought him here to take him out. We can bury his body in the woods."

"Are you fucking insane?" My insolent tone rips into her. "Ivy's here, Helen! Goddammit!"

Kicking a rock across the driveway does little to curtail my fury. Raymond's daughter. Ivy's aunt. Can't hurt her.

"Trip, give me this. Please, he killed my husband of thirty-five years."

"Your devoted husband was screwing him!" I point toward the door of the cabin.

She flinches but it's true; she's avenging an asshole.

"He discarded Ivy without a second thought. He fucked us all!"

She clenches her teeth, preparing to fight me, but she gives up and slouches. My hand rests on her shoulder, and her feeble eyes peek up at me. Bernard trounced on this poor woman for years, now she's as dead inside as him. I'm glad he's fucking gone.

"Listen. I'm sorry about the pain you're feeling. That's on me. But you don't have it in you to kill him in cold blood. It won't assuage your grief, and the guilt will haunt you. Trust me, I know. Chowder murdered Bernard to get at me. I'll handle him."

She searches my eyes before looking down at her feet. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Thank fuck she's on board. I wouldn't want to have to restrain her while I deal with Chowder. "Now, stay with Ivy no matter what happens. Don't let her see anything."

"Okay."

She trails behind me up the steps to the porch.

Time to put this baby to rest.