At Peace

Chapter Twenty Collapse

Benny heard the knock on his door, his eyes opened and the woman in his bed moved. When she reminded him of her presence, he struggled to remember her name. He could remember her lips, could even call up a vision of them. Full, soft, a nice red-pink even without lipstick. Heaven wrapped around his cock especially with all her long, dark hair all around, soft against his skin. He usually liked to watch and would pull their hair back. Her hair was so soft he left it where it was.

It came to him. Carla.

She lifted her head. “Whas that?”

“Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of it,” Benny told her, throwing the covers back and grabbing his jeans from the floor.

Carla collapsed back into bed and he heard her soft snore.

He yanked up his jeans, left the room and hit the stairs, surprised her snores began immediately. He knew then that was it, she was out. Not that she’d made an impression on him, only her lips had but even if he woke up beside her and she rallied, he knew she was out. He hated snoring and he also couldn’t call up much emotion for some bitch who could hear a knock on the door in the early hours of morning and leave him to it. He wouldn’t let her do anything but he figured Violet would not go back to sleep and leave Cal to deal. She’d wait to go back to sleep when she knew he was back in bed with her, safe. And he knew she’d do this with her dead husband too. She’d do this before she learned knocks in the moments before dawn could mean bad shit had come calling. She’d do this because it was the right thing to do if you were a good person or you gave a shit about someone.

Not many good ones out there, he was thinking as he walked down the stairs. He was just glad Cal finally found himself one of them.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and he felt a clutch in his chest when he heard the knocks coming from the backdoor not the front.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, went to the hall closet, grabbed his gun and headed back toward the kitchen.

Standing to the side of the door, he shoved the curtain partially aside and saw Frankie standing on his back stoop.

His first instinct was to open the door, shove the bitch down the stairs, close the door, walk upstairs and kick Carla out. Just seeing Francesca put him in no mood to be around any woman. But his mother would have a conniption if he put his hand on a woman in anger even if that woman was Francesca who his Ma detested, so he didn’t do this. His mother in a conniption wasn’t worth the trouble, even for the satisfaction of laying his hands on his dead brother’s bitch.

Therefore he switched on the outside light, turned the lock and opened the door, keeping his gun in his hand.

The life she led with Vinnie, Francesca had learned and she clocked the gun first.

“Benny,” she whispered.

“Say what you gotta say, bitch, and get the fuck outta my space,” Benny replied.

Her eyes lifted and the second thing she clocked was his chest. Stopping there, her face got pale, he could see it even in the dark. Stupid, greedy slut.

“Two seconds,” Benny warned and Frankie’s eyes shot to his.

“It’s Cal,” she said quickly and that feeling in his chest got tighter.

Benny opened the door further, stepped back and Frankie moved in. Benny shut the door, locked it, flipped off the light switch and grabbed her arm, yanking her into the hall.

“Benny –” she started when he stopped them in the hall.

“I got company,” he told her, his voice quiet and he saw her head tip back to look up the stairs.

“Figures,” she whispered and her voice was tight.

“You got somethin’ to say about Cal?” Benny prompted.

“Who is she?” Frankie asked and Benny pressed his lips together. Then she went on and her voice was lower but lighter. Apologetic. “Benny –”

“When’d it become your business who I fuck?” Benny asked.

“Ben,” she whispered.

“That sign went up on the restaurant, Frankie, but when it did I didn’t become a millionaire. Got no more than Pop which wasn’t good enough for you. Not gonna give you the chance to wrap your golden cunt around my cock and get me to sell into a franchise like you tried to talk Vinnie into talkin’ Pop into doin’.”

In a flash he felt her attitude hit the hall.

“You’re talkin’ that trash to me and I used to be a member of your family,” she hissed.

“You came to my house in the middle of the night with info about Cal and you’re leadin’ with this shit so brace, babe, ‘cause you brought it on yourself. You gave up your position in this family when you led Vinnie by his dick straight to Sal. I’ll remind you, this isn’t the first time after we lost him you tried to get it from me and I told you before, that shit is not fuckin’ happening. You came here to say something, say it.”

“I needed to be with someone who loved him like I did,” she snapped in her defense.

“Yeah, bet he was smilin’ down from heaven when he saw you tryin’ to shove your hand down my pants,” Benny fired back.

“We were both emotional. Things got outta hand.”

“No, nothin’ got in your hand.”

“You kissed me,” she returned.

Benny leaned in and got in her face. “Bullshit, you pressed up against me, laid it on me and I was wasted.”

“I was wasted too.”

“Woman, your boyfriend had been whacked.”

“And your brother had been whacked.”

Benny wanted to relive this like he wanted to be kicked in the gonads therefore he went silent and started counting to ten.

He got to three when Frankie kept at him. “You still kissed me.”

“Babe, tits like yours, I’m blotto, doesn’t matter who you are, they’re pressed against me and they got a mouth attached to the same body, it’s on mine, I’m gonna stick my tongue in it.”

She reared back. “God, Ben, I forgot how much of a fuckin’ dick you are. Always were. I shouldn’t have even come here.”

“Now we’re talkin’ about what I wanna talk about. Why did you?”

“’Cause Cal never treated me like shit and Sal ordered a hit on Hart and it went bad. Word’s spreadin’ fast that Hart’s gonna be aimin’ for Cal, someone’s gotta warn him, I don’t have his number and I couldn’t go to your Dad so, stupid me, I came to you.”

Benny went solid for half a second. Then he moved. Leaving Francesca where she stood, he hit the stairs and took them three at a time.

He turned on the light and Carla moaned, turned then got up on a forearm. By the time she did this Benny had laid his gun on the dresser and was pulling on a t-shirt.

“Whas goin’ on?” she asked, pulling hair from her face and Benny looked at her.

Knockout. Fantastic lips, just like he remembered. Great tits. Frankie’s were better, he knew that even if he hadn’t seen them or touched them, only had them pressed against him once but Carla’s were sweet.

Still, he’d had his fill of Carla.

“Darlin’, you need to go on home,” he said, going to the dresser and grabbing some socks.

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“You need to go home, Carla,” Benny repeated and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, “now.”

He had his socks on and was reaching for his boots when he noticed she hadn’t moved so he looked at her. She was looking at the door so Benny’s head swung that way to see Frankie standing in it.

“Pretty, honey,” Frankie muttered, “you always had good taste.”

Benny’s mouth got tight and he pulled on a boot.

“Who’s she?” Carla asked.

Benny didn’t answer instead he ordered, “Out of bed, babe. Go home.”

Carla was up on her ass with the sheet to her chest and her narrowed eyes were glued to the door. “Who’s she?” she repeated.

Benny pulled on his second boot, saw Frankie hadn’t moved but was smiling her smile that made his dick start to get hard.

There was a reason Vinnie gave it all for her. The bitch was beyond a knockout. Only a quarter Italian, the rest of her was mutt and she got the best of it all. Almond-shaped eyes with light brown irises and naturally long, curling lashes. A thick head of rich, dark brown hair she always wore long. Flawless light skin that made your mouth water just to taste it and made you wonder if that creamy skin was the same everywhere. Fantastic tits, great ass and a tiny waist which were the only things that made her long legs not look like they went straight to her throat.

And the way she smiled that smile, like she had a secret, a really fucking good one you had to know and the only way she’d tell you was when you were close, deep inside and she’d whisper it in your ear. The perfect package from top to toe.

He straightened from the bed and looked down at Carla. “Not gonna say it again, babe.”

Carla looked at him. “Are you tellin’ me that you just let me suck your cock and then I let you fuck me and you wake me up in the middle of the night to shift me out for round two? You’re good, Benny Bianchi, fuckin’ great, like they all said but nothin’s good enough to put up with that.”

Benny put his hands to his hips. “See this failed to sink in, woman, but I just got dressed and put my boots on. I’m gonna fuck someone else, she’s standin’ in line at the fuckin’ bedroom door, would I put my clothes on?” She opened her mouth to speak but he didn’t wait for her to answer. “I got somethin’ to do, somethin’ before the crack of dawn, somethin’ fuckin’ important. I asked nice, now I’ll say it straight. Get your ass outta my bed, get dressed and get the fuck outta my house.”

She glared at him and then asked sarcastically, “You think maybe she can leave while I get dressed?”

Benny walked to the dresser and grabbed his gun. Carla’s eyes rounded on it, the situation of a wakeup call at that hour dawned on her and her body went still but Frankie spoke.

“Sure,” she said, turned and walked from the door.

Benny waited while Carla dressed and she hurried out the door not sparing him a glance and not getting close. This was either because he’d been a dick or because he was still carrying his gun but he didn’t much care which. She was gone.

He went to his nightstand and tagged his phone. Scrolling down, he called Cal while he shoved his gun in the waistband of his jeans. He waited for a pick up but there was none. It went to voicemail.

Benny figured, he had Vi in his bed, he would likely not pick up the phone at that hour either because he was busy with something not worth disturbing to answer the phone or sleeping after being exhausted by doing something that wasn’t worth disturbing to answer the phone. Benny disconnected the call and tried again. Voicemail. On the third try when he got voicemail, he left a message.

“Cugino. Benny. It’s urgent. Call me.”

He left the room and Frankie was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

He stopped in her space. “Did I ask you to stay?”

“Will you call me when you find out everything’s all right?”

Benny clenched his teeth. She was worried. He heard it. She didn’t even try to hide it.

He knew her life since losing Vinnie had been totally fucked. He thought she’d move on but she didn’t. He didn’t want to know but he had to admit he’d gone out of his way to keep tabs. Alone, she didn’t date, didn’t even look as far as he knew. She went to work. She came home. She’d go to Rico’s by herself once in awhile and she’d go home by herself. She went on vacation by herself. All in all, she just kept herself to herself.

She was close to Sal, had made friends with some of his boys when Vinnie was working for Sal and she stayed that way because they were the only family she had left. Everyone else had turned their backs on her because they blamed her for Vinnie.

The Bianchis were clean and always were. The Giglias were dirty and always were. They met at reunions, weddings, funerals and when they had to because they were family. The mingling of blood two generations ago was not a happy occasion for the Bianchis. But family was family.

His path crossed with Frankie’s because Sal considered Frankie family, her man had been whacked under his watch and Sal might be a piece of shit but he took care of family. After Vinnie died and Benny made it clear he didn’t want her company and she stopped coming around all the time, Benny saw her but rarely. He knew she’d got tight with Cal because of Vinnie and stayed that way for reasons known only to her and Cal. That was to say she stayed that way as much as Cal would let anyone stay close – which was to say that she probably hadn’t seen him in years.

But she was worried and, fuck him, he fucking hated hearing that in her voice.

“I’ll call,” he gritted out.

“Thanks, Ben,” she whispered and turned toward the kitchen at the back which brought something to Benny’s mind.

“Frankie,” he called, she stopped in the dark hallway and turned to him.

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you come to the backdoor?”

She hesitated then he saw her shoulders shrug. “Old lady Zambino lives across the street.”

“So?”

“So, she’s Bella’s grandma.”

Benny was getting impatient. Therefore, he asked again, “So?”

“So, Bella works for you.”

“Frankie –”

In a rush, she explained, “She’s old and she’s nosy. If Old Lady Zambino sees me and tells Bella, Bella tells Theresa, Theresa doesn’t care why I’m here she just doesn’t want me near any of you, ‘specially you. So Theresa gets pissed but she’d get pissed at you. I was tryin’…”

She stopped speaking but he knew what she was trying to do. Save him from the wrath of his Ma because she was right. Frankie saw him from two blocks away and his mother knew it, Ma would lose her fucking mind. Since Benny’s Ma lost her fucking mind on a regular basis, Benny could handle it, but it’d be a pain in the ass like it always was and it was cool Frankie tried to shield him from that shit.

He didn’t say thanks, he didn’t speak at all and she turned again and walked away.

She stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and turned back.

“Benny,” she called.

“Got things to do, Frankie,” he reminded her.

She didn’t listen or didn’t care.

Instead, she said, “It’s a sin to speak ill of the dead.”

Benny felt his body get tight.

“Don’t –” he whispered.

She did. “I never told anyone this before.”

“Frankie –”

“Everyone thought it was me. The franchise idea. That sandwich shop that went bust. Sal.”

Benny started toward her but she didn’t stop talking and she didn’t move.

“It was all Vinnie.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her through the kitchen.

“Ask Sal. He knows,” she told him as he reached for the door but he never made it. She dug her heels in and yanked her arm out of his hold. “I didn’t say shit because I loved him. I didn’t want anyone to think he was weak. I didn’t want anyone to think he’d failed. I didn’t want anyone to think he was anything but what they thought he was. That he was great because he was. He just wasn’t perfect.”

“Save this shit, Frankie, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“But I don’t want you to think that, not about me,” she kept on. “I don’t know why but I don’t want you to think it.”

“Too bad. I know this is bullshit.”

She got close. She didn’t touch him but she got close enough he could smell her perfume and her hair.

“You know it isn’t,” she whispered. “Vinnie Senior, Theresa, Manny. They were blind but you know. Cal knows. Carm knows. You know. Cal, Carm, they won’t say it but they know it. You got them away from Vinnie, from Theresa, you asked, they’d tell it to you straight. But you… you just won’t admit it.”

“Babe, I got shit to do,” he reminded her.

She stared at him and then shook her head. “I don’t know why I…” she stopped speaking and reached for the doorknob, “don’t bother tellin’ me about Cal. I’ll get it from Sal.”

The tone of her voice gone hard, dead, Benny didn’t like. It didn’t suit her. These days she was all about attitude but it wasn’t hard. Back in the day, she laughed a lot. Even if someone told a joke that wasn’t funny, she’d laugh and it’d sound real even though she was only doing it to make them feel good. And she was all energy. She seemed electric even sitting curled up to Vinnie and watching TV.

He hadn’t seen that in years, hadn’t heard her laughter, but he’d never heard her voice sound hard and dead.

He put his hand to her arm. “Frankie –”

She yanked her arm free and pulled open the door.

“Be well, Ben,” she said in that same voice and she did it without looking at him. Then she moved down his back stoop.

For some fucking reason he followed her, grabbed her arm and swung her around. When her head tipped back to look at him, he had no goddamned clue what to say.

“What?” she asked.

“I’ll call about Cal.”

“Like I said, don’t bother.”

“I’ll call.”

“Ben, you don’t wanna talk to me, fine. I get it, it’s cool, been livin’ with that for years. I’ll get the news from Sal or one of the boys.”

His hand tightened on her arm and he brought her closer to his body, close enough to smell that perfume again and in a moment of lunatic honesty he had to admit he liked it.

“I’ll fucking call.”

She went still for a moment that seemed to stretch for a long time and she stared up at him and all he could see were her eyes, her hair and all he could smell was her perfume and his hand automatically tightened further on her arm.

When it did, she whispered, “Suit yourself.”

She yanked her arm from his hand and he watched her walk two paces then for some reason she started running. He stood still as he listened to his back gate open and close and he stayed still as he heard her start her car and drive away.

The current situation hit him, his body jolted, he cleared his mind of Frankie, turned and jogged into the house.

I felt Joe’s hand on the small of my back and his hip pressed to mine in bed.

“Buddy, girls need to get to school,” he said into my ear.

He was sitting on my side of the bed. I was lying on my stomach in it. He’d been up for awhile. I had not.

“Mm,” I replied and didn’t open my eyes because my eyelids weighed three tons.

“They’ve had breakfast and they’re ready to go,” Joe went on.

I continued to ignore him and made no reply.

Joe sounded like he was trying not to laugh when he finished. “Don’t you want to say good-bye?”

“Go away,” I mumbled into my pillow.

“Baby –”

“Away,” I partially repeated myself.

I heard Joe’s laughter and if I had it in me I’d glare at him. Lucky for him, I didn’t have it in me.

His lips were back at my ear. “Best part about last night was you comin’ home.”

At this point, if I had it in me, I would have rolled my eyes.

“And then you makin’ me come,” he continued, his voice lower. “That is, after you made me watch you makin’ yourself come.”

“Leave me alone,” I muttered not wanting to remember even as good as it was. I’d been out-of-control. No inhibitions, none. It had been wild and considering our sex life, that was practically unbelievable. Even Joe had been surprised, I could tell. He didn’t complain nor did he resist, but he’d been surprised.

“Gotta get you drunk more often, buddy,” Joe decided.

“Alone,” I begged.

“Every night,” Joe kept at me.

I forced my eyes open, shifted only my eyeballs to him and declared, “No more drink. No more sex. Ever.”

He burst out laughing which shook the bed and made me hold onto the pillow tighter and close my eyes against my stomach roiling.

“Colt’s bachelor party tonight means I’ll be home drunk,” he told me and I groaned. It was Feb’s bachelorette party last night that set the scene for my drunken sex attack on my boyfriend. When he spoke again, his mouth was again at my ear. “So you better rest up, honey.”

I wasn’t hungover enough not to get a little thrill at what Joe might dream up drunk. I liked what he could do sober and I liked what he let me do when I was drunk. Joe drunk was probably going to be awesome.

Nevertheless, I asked the pillow, “Didn’t I say go away?”

“Yeah,” he answered and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Then go,” I demanded.

I felt his lips on my shoulder then I felt his fingers tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I’ll tell the girls you said good-bye,” he offered.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“I’m goin’ into the office.”

“Great,” I said.

“You feel up to it, we’ll go to Frank’s for lunch.”

I groaned again and burrowed into the pillows.

“Don’t talk about food,” I whispered, he chuckled and his hand slid from the small of my back over my ass.

“Get rest and then get fluids in you,” he advised.

“Mm,” I mumbled.

“Only you could be cute hungover,” he muttered as I felt his weight leave the bed.

“Don’t be nice when I’m hungover,” I demanded.

“Why?” Joe sounded surprised and amused.

“I like to be nice back when you’re nice and I can’t move,” I explained.

I felt his lips hit my neck and then they went back to my ear. “You can be nice tonight when I come home drunk. We’ll start with that thing you did when you climbed astride my stomach and move on from there.”

I closed my eyes tighter as memories invaded of me drunk and naked, climbing on top of a just awake Joe and then giving him a one-woman show. A show he liked so much he turned the light on to watch.

My body trembled with embarrassment.

“Ugh,” I grunted.

“Fuck, baby, never forget that. That beats you wrestlin’ wet and in a skirt with Susie Shepherd.”

I lifted and turned my head, opening my eyes to glare up at him. His head moved back with my movements and I saw he was smiling huge which meant he was laughing inside.

“Go away, Joe!” I snapped and winced but his hand wrapped around the back of my head, he lifted me up further, kissed me hard and closed-mouthed and then he let me go.

“Rest,” he ordered.

“I would if you’d leave me alone,” I informed him and he just grinned.

Then he smacked my ass lightly over the covers and walked out of the room.

I collapsed into the bed and listened to Joe talk quietly to the girls. Then I heard them leave. Then I fell into blissful sleep having no idea that shield Joe had built around me was about to collapse.

Colt climbed the stairs of the Station and saw Sully’s head come up when he hit the top. Then he watched Sully smile.

“Was Feb as shitfaced as Raine when she got home?” he asked before Colt even made it to his desk.

Colt smiled. Feb was beyond shitfaced. Feb was so wasted she could barely move. However, she wasn’t so wasted she couldn’t use her mouth, which she did to spectacular results after which she kissed his chest, grinned up at him like she’d just succeeded in climbing Mount Everest instead of sucking him off and then promptly passed out.

“Too bad Feb only gets one bachelorette party,” Colt muttered as he shrugged off his blazer and hooked it around the back of his chair.

“Yeah,” Sully grinned, “bachelorette parties are my favorite part of my friends gettin’ hitched.”

Considering Sully’s wife Lorraine got smashed after a daiquiri and a half, Colt figured Sully had a pretty good night.

“I’m doin’ a Meems run,” Sully told him, straightening from his chair as Colt sat in his, “you want a coffee?”

Mimi’s Café was two blocks away and her coffee was so good, you never said no when someone offered it.

“Yeah. Cappuccino,” Colt replied as his phone rang.

He reached for it and Sully reached for his blazer.

“Colton,” he said into the receiver after he put it to his ear.

“Colt? Pryor. We got a situation,” he heard Barry Pryor say, he sounded far from happy and Colt’s eyes cut to Sully. Sully saw the look in them and stopped moving.

“What?” Colt asked.

“Last night was a bloody one for Chicago,” Pryor answered.

“What?” Colt asked again.

“Someone tried to whack Daniel Hart. This whack failed to take down Hart but it took down two of his top boys. Hart didn’t hesitate with retribution and a drive by at Sal Giglia’s favorite haunt saw four of his soldiers buy it not to mention a waitress and the bartender is critical.”

Colt closed his eyes and sat back in his chair muttering, “Fuck.”

“You know about our friend?” Pryor asked and Colt opened his eyes to see Sully sit in the chair by Colt’s desk.

Colt knew. He knew that Cal’s grandfather’s sister married a Giglia. He knew the Giglias were big time mob, not low level, upper echelon and they had been for a long time. He knew Cal had briefly worked security for Giglia during the last war Giglia had with Hart. He knew Cal had lost his cousin to that war and took a bullet protecting Giglia during it. And lastly he knew that Cal was impatient enough to act reckless and activate the family.

“Yeah,” he answered Pryor.

“Well, my guess is, Hart does too. My guess is Hart knows that our friend is losin’ patience. My guess is Hart’s gonna know what our friend’s up to,” Pryor stated.

“What have your boys been doin’?” Colt asked.

“As you know, Captain agreed and Fed’s approved so we been gettin’ in his business. He hasn’t been likin’ this much,” Pryor replied.

“He put that two with the other two and get four?”

“He’s a psychopath but he isn’t stupid.”

“Was Sal Giglia at that restaurant last night?” Colt asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine but I’m guessin’ he’s also pissed which means the earth under Chicago shifted last night and we all gotta hold on,” Pryor answered.

Colt suspected he wasn’t wrong. He just hoped that quake wouldn’t hit his town.

“Any more to report?” Colt asked.

“Last night was busy. Feds got the books,” Pryor told him.

Finally, good news.

He looked at Sully and said, “They got the books.”

Sully’s brows went up but Pryor kept talking.

“They got forensic accountants combin’ ‘em and a judge on hold for a warrant.”

“How long’s that gonna take?”

“They’re fast-tracked.”

“That isn’t an answer,” Colt told him.

“My gut?” Pryor asked.

“Lay it out,” Colt answered.

“Make some calls. They’re workin’ fast but Hart’ll work faster. This isn’t about Vi anymore. This is about retaliation.”

“Right,” Colt said.

“I’ll keep you briefed. You do the same,” Pryor ordered.

“Yeah. Later.”

“Later.”

Colt put the receiver in the cradle and then twisted to his blazer to get his cell asking Sully, “Someone on Vi this mornin’?”

“Chris,” Sully answered. “What’s up?”

“Call him. A hit on Hart went bad last night, two down, Hart survived. He retaliated against Sal Giglia and five were killed and the kills were sloppy, they took out a waitress and the bartender’s critical. Giglia’s gonna move back. They got the books. It’s goin’ down.”

“This gonna blow down here?” Sully asked, moving quickly back to his desk.

“My guess, Pryor’s gut? Yeah. You call Chris, tell him she needs to be home behind Cal’s security fortress and Chris is glued to her. Then you call who’s on the girls. They’re taken out of school and they’re home. We got someone on Cal?”

“Adam,” Sully answered, his phone to his ear.

Colt scrolled down to Cal and hit go. He put the phone to his ear and waited, getting voicemail. He disconnected and called again and again got voicemail.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he waited for the message to clear and heard the beep. “Cal, Colt. Minute you get this, call me. Shit went down in Chicago last night. You, Vi and the girls need to be home. Sully’s talkin’ to Chris who’s got Vi and we’re movin’ to get the girls.”

He disconnected and scrolled up to Adam.

“Chris isn’t answering,” Sully said and Colt looked at him.

“What?”

“Called twice. No answer,” Sully said, the receiver still at his ear he spoke into it. “Connie,” he said to the woman who was working dispatch, “get a callout to Chris. You connect, you tell him to move on Vi, take her home, batten down the hatches and call me in that order. He can brief her after he gets briefed.”

Colt stood and grabbed his blazer, hitting go on Adam on his phone. He started to move to the backstairs and saw Mike alighting them so he stopped and lifted a palm to Mike who took one look at his face and halted.

Colt got voicemail.

“Fuck!” he clipped, flipped his phone shut and turned to Sully. “I’m goin’ to the high school. You get a callout to whoever’s on the girls. I’ll meet them there.” He turned to Mike. “Shit’s blowin’ down from Chicago. You need to go to the garden center.”

“Fuck!” Mike hissed, turned without a word and sprinted down the stairs.

Colt looked back at Sully. “Find Cal.”

Then he ran after Mike.

“You get Cal?” Sal asked his boy.

“Voicemail,” was the answer.

Sal stared at him and then quietly said, “Take a hike. Keep at him. Tell me when you’ve connected. ‘Til then, my eyes don’t see you.”

Sal took in the nod from his boy who missed his hit, that boy disappeared and then he was alone.

Sal picked up his phone, scrolled down and hit go.

“Yeah?” he heard a groggy Vinnie answer.

“You’re comin’ to me or I’m comin’ to you but we gotta meet and we gotta do it ten minutes ago.”

There was silence.

Then Vinnie said, “I’m comin’ to you.”

Sal flipped his phone shut.

Kate disarmed the alarm and opened the door. She walked in, Keira followed and Colt followed Keira.

“Stand there,” Colt ordered gently.

The girls were just inside the door. He looked over his shoulder at Eric who had tailed the girls to school and stayed for awhile to make sure things were okay. Eric was in plainclothes, standing on the front porch and Colt gave him a nod.

Eric nodded back, stood sentry at the front door and Colt did a walkthrough of the house.

Vi and Joe’s bed was unmade, something that nagged him considering both the girls’ beds were made, there were no dishes in the sink, no crumbs on the counter and only a glitter purple laptop was sitting on the coffee table and a pair off flip-flops were in the corner. Other than that everything seemed in order. Vi kept a tidy house. No signs of struggle.

“Mom here?” Kate asked when he hit the living room.

“She’ll be here soon,” Colt said even though he’d learned from the girls she wasn’t at the garden center. She had the day off preparing for the possible aftermath of the bachelorette party. She wasn’t at home but her Mustang was in the drive.

Colt looked at Eric again and Eric moved out of the door.

“Settle in, I’ll be back,” Colt said to Kate and Keira and followed Eric. Once he got the door closed and walked Eric into the yard, he turned his back to the house and got close. “Call it in. She’s gone. Bed’s unmade, car’s in the drive. All eyes peeled for her. I want officers here. Plainclothes in case the girls see them canvassing. Door to door. Did they see Vi leave the house, what was she wearing, what was she driving, was she with someone? Did they see anyone suspicious? Every house. They’re not home, you get to Feb, get their phone numbers and call them at work. Copy that?”

Eric nodded and headed to his car. Colt jogged to his house. Feb had the door open before he was halfway across the street. She looked tired and not well, wearing her hangover on her face which to Colt made her no less gorgeous and at any other time he would find this hilarious. Now, he did not.

When he made it to her he didn’t say hello.

“Call Jackie. She comes to get Jack. You go over and wait with the girls.”

Feb’s face got even paler and Colt watched the line of her body turn static.

“Wait for what?” she asked.

“Feb –” he started but didn’t finish. Her eyes sliced to Vi’s house before she nodded and without a word hustled back into the house.

Colt started to jog back across his yard when his phone rang. He slowed to a walk, pulled it out of his blazer, looked at the display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“What you got for me, Sul?”

“Chris and Adam down.” The words sounded like they’d been dragged out of his partner’s throat and they made Colt stop dead right in the middle of the street.

“Down how?”

“Don’t know. They’re both breathin’ but they’re also both in ambulances.”

“Vi isn’t at her house,” Colt informed him.

“Mike called. She isn’t at the garden center either.”

“She didn’t have a shift today.”

“Yeah, Mike talked to Bobbie,” Sully said then hissed, “Fuck, why did we not know this?”

“Where was Chris found?”

“Car on the side of the road outside town found by a Good Samaritan. Door open. Radio smashed. Chris unconscious in a ditch.”

“Any idea why he was there?” Colt asked.

“No clue, but it looks like he didn’t make his shift,” Sully answered.

“Adam?”

“Mike found him.”

“Where?”

“Mike left the garden center, went to Cal’s offices. He found Adam in his car outside.”

“Cal?”

“No sign and his girl isn’t there either.”

“Struggle?”

Silence and Colt started walking again, his eyes on Vi’s house, both girls looking out the window at him.

“Sully, were there signs of a struggle?”

“Colt…” Sully stopped speaking and Colt stopped on the sidewalk, turned with his side to the girls but faced away, across the street so the girls couldn’t see him when he reacted to what he was about to hear.

“Sully, tell me.”

“You’re friends with Cal.”

“Sul –”

Sully sighed then spoke fast. “Mike says it’s bad. Boys are goin’ to the scene. Two men at the scene shot dead. Mike doesn’t know either of them but says there was no muss no fuss with the gunshot wounds. Mike says prelim looks like warning shots fired meant to incapacitate, not meant to take them out, kill shots fired when they didn’t stop. But he says there’s lots of blood, place is a mess, looks like it was bad and there’s no Cal.”

“Cal said he’d keep his gun on him, he wasn’t with the girls,” Colt muttered.

“Any chance he’d have Vi with him?”

“Girls say they left together this morning. Them for school, Cal headed for the office. Kate said Vi was hungover. He left her in bed. Somethin’ got her out of that bed but she didn’t make it and she also didn’t make a mess gettin’ ready. Nothin’ that looks like she even left in a hurry.”

“Cal wouldn’t –?”

“Grab her and go? Not without the girls.”

“I’ll get a man at the school, just in case they turn up,” Sully said.

“I’m doin’ another sweep of the house,” Colt told him then asked, “Where’s Mike?”

“Climbin’ the bloody walls at Cal’s office,” Sully answered, not being funny, being almost literal.

“He may need to be locked down,” Colt advised.

“Boys headin’ his way know, everyone knows. Sean’s off today but he’s been called and he’s headed to Mike.”

Colt looked back at the house to see the girls hadn’t moved.

“I gotta get into that house,” he told Sully.

“Yeah. I’m command central as of now. You get anything, you feed it to me.”

“Got it and what you get, you feed to Pryor.”

Sully didn’t have to agree, he’d do it. Instead he said, “While you’re lookin’ around, pray.”

Colt didn’t normally have time for that. He was of a mind that God didn’t need to be informed of his own business but with what was going down and those two girls looking out the window, he’d make time.

“Out,” he said to Sully.

“Later,” Sully replied and disconnected.

Colt forced himself to walk calmly to the house. He opened the door and both girls were no longer at the window. They were at the door waiting for him.

“Mom?” Kate asked and Colt shook his head.

“We’re lookin’. Feb’s comin’ over. Can you make coffee?”

Kate nodded but Keira spoke and what she asked meant Kate didn’t move.

“Where’s Joe? Has anyone called Joe?”

Jesus. How did he answer that?

Shit.

“We can’t find Joe,” he answered and Keira turned to Kate, her movement jerky, panicked.

Dammit, where the fuck was Feb?

Kate’s arms slid around her sister but her eyes stayed on Colt.

“Keirry, let’s make Colt coffee.”

“But –” Keira started and Kate looked at her sister.

“Coffee,” she whispered, Keira’s lip quivered and then she nodded.

Both girls moved to the kitchen and Colt went to the bedroom.

He stood in the center of the floor space and looked around. Unmade bed. Cal’s jeans on the floor. All of Vi’s clothes, including bra, tossed to the floor around Cal’s jeans. The top of the dresser was tidy, the drawers all closed, no clothes hanging out as if hastily pulled out and the drawers shoved closed. Some jewelry sitting on top but there was more on Cal’s nightstand.

She’d taken off her clothes before she hit the bed and she hit the bed on Cal’s side but he’d taken off her jewelry last night, put it on his nightstand. Her nightstand had a lamp, a book and a jar of moisturizer. Nothing else. If she took off her jewelry in bed, it’d be on her nightstand. Cal took it off her.

“Talk to me,” he muttered as he walked to the bed and he saw it.

The covers weren’t thrown back like you do when you get out of bed. It was like she slid out from under them. Colt walked to them, carefully lifted an edge of the covers and saw a phone in the bed.

“Fuck me,” he murmured and picked up the phone. He flipped it open and went to received calls. The last one was from Cal. Colt looked to the bedside clock. She got the call just over thirty minutes ago.

He looked back to the clothes on the floor.

Cal’s jeans, socks, Vi’s skirt, top, bra. Colt’s eyes scanned – a pair of sandals that looked like they were kicked off, sitting by the side of the dresser.

Cal wore tees and Colt reckoned Vi wore underwear.

He went to the clothes and toed them.

No tee and no underwear.

She’d put on Cal’s tee and her underwear from last night.

“Fuck me,” he repeated.

She had been in a hurry. In such a hurry that she hadn’t even dressed. Just pulled on Cal’s tee, her underwear and took off. She got the call while in bed, dropped the phone, slid out without even moving the covers off her, got dressed and went.

Whatever Cal said to her made her move. Or whatever someone said to her on Cal’s phone made her move.

Colt opened his phone, hit Sully’s number and put it to his ear.

“Talk to me,” Sully said.

“My guess, she’s in Cal’s tee, black, not wearin’ shoes. She left her phone in the bed.”

“How you guess that?”

“Yesterday’s clothes are still on the floor, her underwear missin’, Cal’s tee missin’ and her phone was in the bed. I don’t picture Cal as a man who picks his clothes up off the floor. Vi does it like Feb does for me, in the morning when she gets up. He stripped off before goin’ to bed like he probably always does. She stripped off because she was drunk. This morning she got a call from Cal’s phone thirty minutes ago. She grabbed what was handy and she moved.”

“But moved where? Eric reports her car in the drive.”

“No clue.”

“We need to see if we can track the GPS in his phone, got his number?”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“Do it fast.”

“You got it. I’ll keep lookin’.”

“Not much, just knowin’ Vi moved out quick and she’s wearin’ a black tee.” It sounded like a complaint but Sully was just bitching because he was worried.

“Get Pryor on the line. I want Daniel Hart’s MO. And get him to call Sal Giglia. This is family and Giglia could use some brownie points with the cops.”

“Giglia’s got issues, he needs to focus.”

“Giglia’s issues are with Daniel Hart. He cooperates, his war gets a lot less bloody.”

“You ever hear of a big man in the mob sittin’ down with cops, family or not?”

“Nope, but I’ve heard about Giglia and I know he’s unpredictable, he’s got brass balls and he does shit just because it amuses him. Maybe we’ll get lucky and this’ll amuse him.”

“Yeah,” Sully muttered, “maybe we’ll get lucky,” then Colt heard the disconnect.

Colt scrolled to Cal’s number, memorized it and then texted it to Sully.

He moved into the bathroom as he heard Feb call her hellos to the girls, thank Christ.

“I don’t wanna hear this shit,” Vinnie said, sitting out on Sal’s back porch, Sal’s breakfast and coffee dishes on the table, most of the food untouched, the coffee, though, was gone.

“Vincent,” Sal muttered.

“Somethin’ happens to Cal –” Vinnie started.

“Got my boys on it,” Sal stated, his face closed.

He was locked tight. This was because he was worried.

Sal was an asshole and Vinnie hated him. Vinnie grew up with him and never much liked him but when Sal took his son, the hate began. But Sal was a family man, you worked for him or not. He felt what happened to Vinnie Junior and he felt it deep. It wasn’t just one of his boys who he also thought of as family. It was just plain family and that went deeper. Cal, the same. Vinnie Junior was family, he was one of Sal’s boys. But Cal was also family and he was smart, sharp, honest and didn’t take shit. And Cal had taken a bullet for Sal. Cal was not only family to Sal, Sal respected him. That went even deeper.

This shit cut to the bone beyond Sal surviving last night’s bloodbath. It wasn’t Sal who screwed the pooch but it was his responsibility that his man missed. This was on him and he felt it.

“What I hear, Hart doesn’t fuck around. He finds his mark, the bullet goes into the brain,” Vinnie noted, he hated saying it, hated even thinking it but that was what he knew.

“He won’t get Cal,” Sal remarked.

“He does –”

“He won’t.”

The two men stared at each other and then Sal’s eyes went over Vinnie’s shoulder.

“You get Cal?” Sal asked and Vinnie turned to see one of Sal’s soldiers standing just outside the house.

“No, but the cops are on the phone,” his boy answered.

“Talked to the cops last night. Today got things to do. You call Indianapolis like I asked? Get someone down there to move in?” Sal pressed and the boy’s face stayed solid. He was locked tight too.

Vinnie knew why when he spoke. “They’re steerin’ clear. It’s all over the radio. Joe Callahan and his woman are both missin’. Cops in some ‘burg fifteen miles west of Indy are on the hunt. Two boys shot at Callahan’s offices. Chicago PD preliminary identification from pictures puts them in Hart’s army.”

Vinnie’s ass came off the chair. He didn’t stand but he also wasn’t sitting.

“Vi’s girls?” he asked and the soldier’s eyes came to him.

“What?”

“Cal’s woman’s daughters. They safe?” Vinnie explained.

“Haven’t heard anything about them,” the man answered.

“Find out and tell the cops to go fuck themselves,” Sal ordered and the man looked at his boss.

“They want a meet. They want cooperation. Feds are in town and they got news for you. They say they think this meet could be mutually beneficial,” the soldier said to Sal.

This was news, such news it was shocking. The Chicago PD and Feds sitting down with family to make mutually beneficial deals? In this mess, that was a ray of light. Theresa, if she knew about it, which she fucking didn’t, would call it a miracle.

Vinnie forced himself to sit down and he forced his voice to a whisper when he demanded, “Take the meet.”

Sal didn’t take his eyes from his boy and his face betrayed nothing.

“Sal, take the fuckin’ meet,” Vinnie kept whispering, “this is about Cal.”

“Tell them we meet here,” Sal ordered his man.

“Tina reports she saw Vi get into a black Cadillac sometime after eight o’clock. She said Vi was wearin’ nothing but a t-shirt. No shoes. She just ran out of the house, caddy was on the street, the door was thrown open, she got in and the car took off,” Eric told Colt and Colt studiously kept his eyes from going to Tina’s house. If they went to Tina’s house, he might feel the need to walk over there and shake her until her fucking teeth rattled.

“That bitch knows Vi has a situation, fuck, the whole town knows, and Vi’s jumpin’ into cars wearin’ nothin’ but a tee and she didn’t say shit until I knocked on her goddamned door over an hour after Vi was taken,” Eric continued, his voice vibrating and Colt knew Eric had similar thoughts in his head about Tina.

Colt bit his lip then he asked, “She see Cal?”

“Nope, but she reports a black truck was behind the caddy.”

“Cal’s truck is in his office lot,” Colt informed Eric.

“She says it wasn’t his truck. An SUV. Escalade.”

“She get plates?”

“Said she wasn’t payin’ that much attention.”

Colt knew that was a lie. She was paying attention just not to the license plates.

“Highway Patrol been notified?” Colt asked.

“Yeah,” Eric replied.

“What about Lindy?”

“She’s not home. Her man says she works seven to four.”

“She was at the office,” Colt whispered.

“She was at the office,” Eric repeated.

“Pryor says Hart’s MO is not to mess around. Go for the kill,” Colt noted.

“He may have done him in the SUV but he didn’t do him at the offices. Blood’s from the boys Cal took out,” Eric remarked.

Colt called it down. “Been to Cal’s offices. Lindy sits out front. Cal has an office in the back, doesn’t use it much, but he’s got it. They went in, Cal put up a fight but they got to her and somehow managed to use Lindy as leverage. This meant they’ve probably got Lindy and Cal. They got his phone, called Vi from it while sittin’ in front of her house. She knew, the call comin’ from his phone, bad shit had gone down and she didn’t think, husband dead, brother dead, she just acted and she did it hungover and fast, doin’ exactly what she was told.”

Eric rocked back on his heels and said quietly, “Yep, reckon so.”

Colt looked over his shoulder at Vi’s house. Feb was in there and now so was Cheryl. He looked to the street, saw Jessie’s car pull up to the curb in front of Vi’s house. Then he looked down the street to see Josie Judd’s Jeep heading toward the house.

“Let’s hope he goes off script,” Colt muttered as Jessie exited her car, threw the door too and half-walked, half-ran to the house.

“I’m already hopin’,” Eric muttered back.

“God dammit,” Benny muttered when the cars he was following separated. The black caddy Benny knew was carrying Violet went one way. The black SUV Benny guessed was carrying Cal went the opposite way.

Benny made a decision and followed Cal. If his cousin was still alive, they got him to where they wanted him to be, he wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Violet had a better chance.

Benny made the turn and his eyes went to his rearview mirror.

Frankie was shit at a tail. He’d clocked her outside Chicago when he’d left at four that morning.

Benny had made the decision to drive down to Cal’s ‘burg when repeated calls went unanswered. He had no choice. It was a hell of a drive but Cal needed to be warned.

Frankie had been following at his high speed for the last seven fucking hours, all the way down through Indiana and, once there, seeing what he saw, then all the way back up. He had to spend half of his time keeping himself invisible and half of his time making sure she was the same way.

He watched her leave him and follow the caddy.

“Fuck!” he exploded, tagged his phone on the seat beside him, scrolled down to her number which he’d meant to erase about seven dozen times in the last seven years but he’d not only not done it, he’d programmed her new numbers in the three times she got them.

He was okay with her on his ass and he left her to it. She went it alone, that he was not okay with.

He hit go and she answered, “Hello?”

“Stand down, Frankie,” he growled.

“He’s got the woman. You’re on Cal, I’m on her,” she said, her voice calm.

Jesus, he forgot this about her. Francesca was a fuckin’ nut. Nothing scared her, not before life got scary. Attitude mixed with idiot fearlessness and a whole lot of not knowing what the hell she’s doing. Not a good combination. Christ.

“Stand… the fuck… down,” he repeated.

“Benny, I won’t do anything. I’ll call Sal, he’ll send –”

He cut her off. “You get the location, you call Sal, you get the fuck outta there.”

“I’ll just stay, keep an eye out,” she replied.

“You’ll get the fuck outta there,” he was again fucking repeating himself.

“I’ll hang tight and they won’t see me,” she said.

“Woman, you have no idea what you’re doin’. I know you’ve been on my ass since the turnpike.”

She was quiet then she said, “Oh well,” then she stopped speaking.

“Oh well?” Benny asked, wondering if it was possible for his head actually to explode and thinking if it was he was close.

“Ben –”

“They’re stupid enough to let you know their location, you feed it to Sal and you get the fuck outta there.”

“Ben –”

“I got things on my mind, babe, and I don’t need you bein’ one of them.”

She was quiet again then she said, “He’s not gettin’ another one of us.”

Fuck. Now he knew where her head was at. This was about Vinnie. This was about Cal. This was about Frankie being family even though that family turned their back on her.

“Frankie –”

“He’s taken enough from us.”

Benny’s voice went soft. “Francesca, honey –”

“You don’t do anything stupid. You call backup too.”

“Babe –” he said to no one. She’d disconnected.

Fucking hell.

He scrolled down to Sal’s number in his phone and he hit go.

“You think you mighta wanted to tell me this shit when you saw the woman climb into that car?” Sal asked Benny who was on his phone.

“You made this mess. Do you think I was fired up to call you in to clean it up?” Benny asked back.

Fuck, but only Benito Bianchi would speak to him that way. Even Cal had respect. Benny played the game before his brother bought it, since then he didn’t give a fuck.

The fucking Bianchis. Always a pain in his fucking ass.

“I was in Indiana, Sal, what were you gonna do?” Benny went on.

“Get fuckin’ organized,” Sal snapped into the phone then ordered, “stand down.”

“He’s been in there the length of this call and they’ve also got some girl. Blood on both of them, Sal, she didn’t look too good. I’m goin’ in,” Benny told him.

“The cops and Feds just left my house. They want this. Bad. Let me call them so they can get boys on it,” Sal demanded.

“They need to hurry. I’m goin’ in,” Benny returned.

“Benny,” Sal said to a dead phone.

He flipped it shut and had trouble catching Vinnie’s eyes. He didn’t need to look at his cousin to know that he was barely keeping his cool and his seat.

He was saved having to say anything when his phone rang and he saw on the display it was Frankie.

He flipped it open. “Amata, now’s not the time.”

“Cal’s woman is at Hart’s house,” she informed him and Sal went still.

“How do you know that?” Sal asked.

“Because I’m –”

She didn’t finish. Instead she let out a small scream and the line went dead.