Uncontrollable Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 3) (34 page)

“What time is it?” I asked, turning the key in the truck.

“Don’t look at the clock, man, just keep moving until it’s over,” Pipe said, pulling his mask over his head and lifting the flask he hid in his back pocket to his lips. “Fucking hell,” he hissed, as the liquid burned his throat.

“Just keep moving,” I repeated, peeling away from 23
^rd
Ave and Cropsey.

Cain’s old man was standing outside the shooting range, smoking a cigar as he waited for us to arrive. I pulled up right in front and we jumped out of the truck.

“Pop,” I greeted the old man, as he flicked the ashes of his Nicaraguan cigar.

“How bad is it?” He asked, not leaving any room for pleasantries.

I looked over my shoulder, watching as Riggs opened the lift-gate of the truck, before walking around the side and glancing at the watch on his wrist.

“Jimmy Gold is holding Blackie and my woman hostage,” I said, diverting my eyes back to the aging father of my predecessor.

He raised his eyebrow and questioning eyes found mine.

“Well, I’ll be damned, never thought the day would come when you took an old lady,” he commented.

“Yeah that makes two of us,” I declared. After things ended with Connie I had no intentions of tying myself to one woman. My heart was closed off, no room for anything or anyone, but Reina came into my life and being with her made me want to make room in my heart for the things I thought I didn’t deserve.

And now she was gone, and I was racing against a clock to get her back.

It was a horrible feeling, knowing that the person you belonged to was somewhere unknown, being held at the mercy of your enemy. I was torn between my love for her and the hatred I had for myself. If I had just let her be. If I had just stayed away. If only I wasn’t tempted by the sunshine.

“Clock’s ticking, Prez,” Pipe reminded me. “Gotta keep moving,” he added, pulling me from my self-loathing trance.

“Go,” Pops said. “I’d like to meet the girl who made that dead heart pump again,” he murmured, before pointing to the wooden crates piled up against the wall of the warehouse. “Everything you asked for and more,” he informed me.

“Thank you,” I said, turning to the boys and tipping my chin toward the crates. “Let’s load them up,” I ordered as I walked to the crates, lifting the lid off of one of them and staring down at the AK47 nestled away amongst the straw.

“There’s six of those, a couple of Glocks and I stocked you with some nine millimeters’ and a bunch of forty-five’s. They’re loaded, and I threw in a couple of magazines.” He paused for a second. “You boys are ready for war,” he said, shifting his eyes to my patch and staring at the one that declared me president of the Satan’s Knights, a role his son once called his own.

“Cain’s watching over you,” he said simply, lifting his eyes to mine. “Got faith he’ll see you through this,” he stated.

I patted Pops on the back, digesting his words, and hoping like hell they were true. Satan’s Knight’s needed all the guardian angels they could get. I turned around and loaded the last crate into the truck.

Keep moving.

I got back behind the wheel of the truck, honked the horn at Pops before backing out of the lot and meeting Riggs’ eyes in the rearview mirror.

“How’s the ink on those death certificates?” I asked hoarsely.

“Just about ready to dry,” he replied.

“Bones, gas up the bikes, Wolf and I will load the cage with the ammo,” Pipe said, as we pulled up to the clubhouse. He stepped out of the truck, turned back to me before he closed the door and asked. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I responded, pulling the key from the ignition. “Going to check on Lacey and meet you out here in five.”

When I walked into the clubhouse I was greeted with the scent of food cooking, a foreign aroma for the Dog Pound. That wasn’t the only change though and as my eyes perused the common room in search of my daughter I spotted them all. There was a tablecloth draped over the pool table and folding chairs arranged around it. The bar that was usually a sticky mess was spotless and lined with sterno racks. Lauren Bianci was filling aluminum trays with water and placing them on the wire racks over a flame. Maria Bianci walked behind her daughter carrying a steaming tray of something and placed it on one of the sterno racks before turning around to take another tray from Adrianna’s hands.

Grace stepped around the bar holding paper plates and red solo cups which she handed off to my daughter and Nikki, delegating them the task to set the pool table.

My compound had turned into a fucking Sunday dinner at Vic’s house.

“Dad?” Lacey lifted her head, dropping the plates on top of the pool table and walked toward me. “Have you heard anything?”

“No baby, I haven’t,” I replied, peeling my eyes away from the prospect that emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron and carrying a tray of antipasto. “You ladies have been keeping busy,” I muttered.

“It was Grace and Maria’s idea,” she explained. “They said when you guys bring Reina and Blackie home you deserve a meal. Well, that’s what Grace said—Maria said you all should starve for being scoundrels. Though they both agreed that Reina and Blackie would be hungry so they decided to do all this to welcome them home,” she informed, signaling with her arms around the room, speaking just as animated as the Pastore women.

I smiled half-heartedly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Nikki walked up to us and pounded her fist against my chest playfully.

“Can I grub a cigarette, Bulldog?” She asked, flashing me a smile, reminding me of a time when I took her and Mike to a safe house and she robbed my Marlboros from me. I reached into my vest and pulled out my pack and handed them over to her.

“You’re my hero,” she exaggerated, pulling one from the pack. “If my mother looks for me tell her I’m slicing a salami or something,” she whispered, before sneaking out the door.

“Nikki’s going to dye my hair,” Lacey said, looking after her as she stepped outside.

I looked down at my daughter, her voice becoming muted as she rambled on about highlights and ombre something or other. I could see the fear reflected in her eyes and my heart clenched knowing I was the reason behind it. My mind drifted to Vic, and I finally understood the sacrifices he made and why he did so. I reached for her and brought her against my chest, holding onto her tightly, wishing I could erase all the harm I’ve ever caused her.

“Dad,” she said, pushing against my chest and lifting her eyes to mine, morphing from my little girl to a young woman wise enough to know her father was splitting at the seams. “I see that look in your eye and it scares me. Scares me more than any man charging into my house, more so than Blackie telling me I need to hide in a closet because they’re coming for me.”

She bit her lower lip and fought against the tears that glazed her eyes.

“They say we associate things with our childhood; scents, songs, even toys.

They’re supposed to help us remember when our minds grow old with age and we are trying to hang onto our youth. I saw that look in your eyes my entire childhood and I’ll never forget it. I hate that look because it’s a reminder that for the last thirteen years, since Jack died, you didn’t want to be here anymore. I remember looking into your eyes and wondering if that day was the day you wouldn’t come back to me, if you’d lose the struggle and end up with Jack.” She paused for a moment and I blew out a breath, one I didn’t realize I was hanging onto. “You always came back,” she smiled sadly, and then the tears fell from her eyes. Her admission broke every last piece of my heart. “I told myself it was because you realized I was still here and I still needed you, that you knew how much I loved you and how it would break my heart if I lost you,” she cried.

“Lacey…” I whispered, my voice hoarse as I tried to find the words to soothe my daughter. In that moment, Cain’s face appeared to me and my mind wandered to a time when he talked me off the ledge.

Look at me, Bulldog.,

You’ll never see your boy grow into a man but do you want to miss out on that beautiful girl of yours too? She’s a looker, Jack, going to have bastards like us banging down the door to get a piece of her. With you gone, no one there to filter through the shit and find her the one that deserves her heart.

“Dad?” She said softly, and I shook my head, shaking Cain and the memories away so I could focus on Lacey. “I know you miss Jack, but I’m still here,” she whispered. “And I need my dad. I’ll always need you so please promise me you’ll come back to me.”

“I love you, Lace,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her forehead before I enveloped her into a tight embrace. “And I promise you a pack of wild horses couldn’t stop me from coming back to you. We’ll make good memories, I swear it.”

I had let my mind control me for too long, robbing me of a chance at
giving my daughter the childhood she deserved. I’d swear on a stack of bibles that when this shit was over I’d make things right with her.
She’d look at me and know that I needed her just as much as she needed me.

The door opened behind me and my club members walked inside.

“Bulldog,” Pipe called.

“Yeah…” I said, pulling away from my daughter, dropping one more kiss to the top of her head and brushing her tears away with my thumb. “Dry those eyes, your old man will be back,” I whispered.

Nikki stepped back into the clubhouse, spritzing herself with body spray to cover the cigarette smell and walked over to Lacey. She ran her fingers over her hair as she glanced at me, treating me to a wink.

      
“Come on, let’s see about dying these locks,” she said.

Lacey looked at me and I nodded at her before diverting my eyes back to Nikki.

“Thank you,” I said hoarsely, to the girl who knew my daughter’s pain better than anyone. She lived it once upon a time.

“Thanks for the stogie,” she replied, tugging on Lacey’s hands and making a beeline for the stairs.

Riggs emerged from the chapel and started handing out bullet-proof vests to all of us as he strapped his own tightly around his body.

“Ink’s dry, brother,” he alerted me, tipping his head to the vest in my hand. “We gotta move,” he added.

“Riggs, can I talk to you?” Lauren Bianci asked.

I removed my cut and slipped my arms through the vest, tightening it around my chest and lifted my eyes curiously as Anthony’s little sister stood in Riggs’ path.

“Can it wait?” Riggs snapped. “Don’t really have much time to fight with you people on whether it’s called sauce or gravy and I’m not in the mood to argue about my life choices, the ones you mob folk seem to love to criticize. So, no Lauren, not now,” he said, fitting his helmet to his head and turning toward me. “I’ll be outside,” he stated, before leaving Lauren to stare after him.

“Keep moving,” Pipe said, slapping me on the back.

I nodded, glancing around the clubhouse one final time, taking in the family me and Victor Pastore created. It definitely was an unconventional one at best, but there was no other word to describe what had resulted from our alliance.

I’d have to thank him one day.