Rocco Page 14

  Rocco wasn’t sure Nico’s assessment of Mia was entirely accurate. As far as he could tell, Mia wasn’t really a rule follower, even if they were Nico’s rules. She was fiercely intelligent, a skilled hacker, and a woman who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she believed in. In some ways, she was very much like Luca’s new wife, Gabrielle, an ex-cop who had done exactly what Luca told her not to do in order to save his life. She also kicked ass with a gun and when she and Mia got together, Rocco stayed the fuck away.

  He supposed the similarities between them made sense. Strong women were attracted to strong men, and Nico and Luca were probably the most powerful men in the Toscani crime family, save for Tony. The problem was, strong woman were difficult to control, and it was becoming abundantly clear that Grace had an inner strength that he had never had a chance to see before. She wasn’t an innocent, trusting girl anymore. She was a woman, and she knew her own mind. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she decided to go looking for Tom on her own. Or with Mia and Gabrielle. Christ. Just the thought of the three of them together made his pulse kick up a notch.

  “Tell me again, about that understanding,” Luca said, holding up his phone. “Gabrielle just texted to let me know they’ve located Grace’s brother in a trailer park, and they are on their way to meet him.”

  When Rocco’s phone buzzed with a similar message from Mike, who was now following the girls down Las Vegas Boulevard, he’d had enough. Fuck Nico and the meeting. He wasn’t bound by the rules of Nico’s crew. He was other. And for the first time, he was damn glad.

  ELEVEN

  “I think that’s it up ahead.” Grace leaned forward from the back seat of Gabrielle’s Mazda CX-3. Together Mia and Gabrielle had managed to find Tom’s phone using his number and they had pinpointed his location to a trailer park on the outskirts of the city using some sophisticated software that Grace was certain wasn’t available to the public.

  “I know this trailer park,” Gabrielle said. “And it’s definitely a good place to lie low if that’s what he’s doing. The people here mind their own business, and they don’t rat on each other no matter what they are involved in.”

  An ex-cop and now a partner in a private investigation firm, Gabrielle had insisted on coming along as back-up even though Mike and Paolo were following behind in a black Chrysler 300C that screamed Mafia, much to Grace’s amusement. Dressed in pregnancy grunge, with a flannel shirt, rock band vest, and ripped pregnancy jeans, Gabrielle had been eager to come along, welcoming the opportunity to get out from under Luca’s overprotective thumb.

  “But Tom doesn’t know anyone in the city who would live in a place like this.” Grace’s niggle of worry became a full-on roar as they neared the trailer park. As far as she was aware, Tom didn’t know anyone in Nevada besides their family friends, the Forzanis. If he was lying low after the shooting, why would he come here instead of staying with them, or returning to New York? Was he not concerned about their father? And why hadn’t he answered her messages? According to Mia, his phone was charged and still on.

  They pulled up into the parking lot, and Mia studied the map on her phone. “Looks like he’s in one of the trailers at the far side.”

  Grace sent a text to Tom and they sat in the car waiting while Mike and Paolo paced up and down in the parking lot. After ten minutes, she reached for the door handle. “I’ll go to talk to the manger and see if he’ll let me in.”

  “Take Mike with you,” Mia said. “You can’t be too careful when you don’t know who’s after you.”

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. How had her normal life spiraled out of control so quickly? And all because she’d let her father back into her life. But then that was the mob. Once you opened the door, the chaos and insanity blew right in.

  “And you’d better get a move on,” Gabrielle said. “Frankie was at the meeting with Luca and if you guys are really together like Luca said, and given what we know about him, he’ll already be on his way, and it won’t be pretty. He came with Luca to meet the new partners at my office and had them quaking in their boots with just a scowl.”

  Grace feigned a smile, but her heart ached at the thought that no one knew the real Rocco—protective, possessive, and hiding a gentle heart beneath his stony exterior. Even last night, which should never have happened, he had stopped when she asked him to stop. And his concern afterward was genuine. But she couldn’t be with him without an emotional connection and last night that part of him was missing.

  Mia cocked her head to the side. “Are you together or just friends?”

  “We were together a long time ago,” she said. “But we had to keep it a secret. I was sixteen and he was twenty-six. I was the underboss’s daughter. He was a De Lucchi. It was all sorts of dangerous, although I didn’t know it at the time. I just thought he was a guy who worked for my dad. But he knew, and he took the risk anyway.”

  “I can’t even imagine what he went through as a child,” Gabrielle said, her hand dropping to her belly. “Or that you went out with him.”

  “He wasn’t like how he is now.” Grace mentally compared the gentle lover he had been to the cold, harsh encounter last night. “Some part of me knew he was suffering, although I didn’t know why, and I wanted to bring some joy into his life. He never talked about what he was going through, and I remember thinking that he was just having a hard time at home.”

  After she learned her father was in the Mafia, she guessed Rocco had some connection with them, too, but she didn’t want to know so she never asked the question. Finding out he was not just in the Mafia, but involved in the very worst way, and having to witness exactly what that meant, had been too much of a shock to bear.

  “I thought maybe the Rocco I knew was still there, hiding behind the mask,” she continued, still half in and half out the door. “But last night I started to wonder if I was wrong.”

  Or was she? It was almost as if the closer they got, the harder he tried to push her away. Matthew had done the same, she remembered, when she first started counseling him at the orphanage. Abused by his foster family, he didn’t trust easily, but Grace had been able to get through to him because she understood his fear. After losing her mother, her father, and Rocco, she hadn’t wanted to get close to anyone because she couldn’t go through that loss and betrayal again.

  The roar of a Harley engine filled the air. A few moments later a motorcycle raced into the parking lot. Grace didn’t have to wait for the rider to remove his helmet to know who had come looking for her. And for the first time since they’d met again, she felt a flicker of fear when she saw Rocco’s face.

  “Now that is one pissed-off alpha male in a protective frenzy,” Mia said, watching him stalk toward the vehicle. “If you weren’t sure about how he feels about you, I think your answer is right there.”

  “But don’t worry.” Gabrielle looked back and grinned. “I have a gun.”

  * * *

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  If he had to guess, he would say Grace was about to go into the fucking trailer park and start asking about her brother like there was no one after her, and she wasn’t at the worst fucking scum hole in the city filled with criminal slime, some of whom wouldn’t think twice about indulging in a little …

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  She was okay. She was okay. Mike and Paolo were here and would never have allowed her to go in alone because they liked having their limbs attached. Sometimes having a reputation as a vicious sadistic bastard had its advantages. Not only that, Gabrielle was an ex-cop and not only could she keep a cool head in dangerous situations, she was damn good with a gun.

  Although she was six months pregnant.

  And where the fuck was Luca to talk some sense into his woman? If Rocco had a wife who was six months pregnant, she sure as hell wouldn’t be joyriding to a dangerous trailer park with her friends looking for a man who didn’t want to be found. Hell, he’d lock her in the house where she would be safe, and the baby
would be safe, and he wouldn’t have to worry every second of every day if they were okay. And if they did have to go out, he’d be packing at least eight weapons, and she’d be wearing head to toe body armor, if they made that kind of thing for pregnant women.

  Not that he could or would ever have a wife. Or a kid, for that matter. Definitely not a kid. And most definitely not a son because a son would be bound to the De Lucchi crew and he would never put a child through the hell he’d been through, even if it meant his own life. Cesare was already harassing him about finding an orphan to take his place, but there was no fucking way, and if it meant his days were numbered then he would look forward to the Hell waiting for him on the other side.

  “Grace.” He shouted, more out relief that he had found her in time, than anger. “Stop right there.”

  Of course, she didn’t stop. His commands didn’t seem to have any effect on this new Grace. Nor did his scowls or his shouts. To her credit, she didn’t appear to be afraid of him, although right now he was frightening himself. If Tom was in this trailer park, chances were things were about to get ugly. He would have to make a decision that would either cost him his life or his connection to Grace, and he wasn’t prepared to give up either one.

  “Tom.”

  That’s all she said. Tom. Like it explained why she decided to leave the safety of his apartment, why she decided to seek out Mia, and why the fuck she thought driving out here with two chicks, one of whom was pregnant, albeit she was a better shot than most dudes he knew, was a good fucking idea.

  Luca and Nico drove up a few minutes later, but he wasn’t interested in hearing all hell break loose as they had it out with their women. Gabrielle, in particular, did not take kindly to Luca interfering with her work, but her pregnancy had sent the underboss into an overprotective frenzy, and every time they were together sparks flew.

  “Grace.” He jogged across the parking lot toward her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Tom,” she repeated. “He’s in there and I need to know he’s okay.”

  Rocco’s gaze swept over the trailer park, and he took in the dilapidated trailers, broken awnings, and rusted-out cars. He knew the place. It was a refuge for people who were on the run, a place where no one asked questions and every fucking week the newspaper reported another body rotting in the sun.

  “I’ll deal with it.” There was no point trying to take Grace away without making a token effort to find her brother. Grace was a nurturer, and she felt too much. When God had been handing out the empathy, he’d given her a triple helping. The only problem was, sometimes she was so busy feeling, she forgot about practical things like how getting involved in mob business was not something she had ever wanted to do. And this had the stink of mob all over it.

  “We can go together.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” The words exploded from him. “Do you seriously think I’m going to let you go in there? They will eat you alive.”

  “I’d like to see them try.” She pulled a .22 from her purse and took a step toward the gate. Christ almighty. When had Grace become so damn stubborn? And brave? And when had she ever not listened to his advice? He was older and wiser and she had always done as he said.

  “Jesus Christ. Put that away.”

  “Then stop bossing me around. My brother has been missing for two days, and if he is in there, something is wrong because he’s not answering his phone. I need to find him. If I want to go in, I’ll go in, and after I talk to the manager and find out if he’s there…” She looked around the parking lot. “Mike will come to the trailer with me.”

  “Mike?”

  “I’m not an idiot. I’m going in there alone. And Mike’s a nice guy. He talks to me respectfully. He doesn’t swear and shout. He does what I say, and he doesn’t complain.”

  “Mike’s a nice guy?” Should he tell her how Mike killed two Albanian hit men with his bare hands by smashing their heads together? Or how he had once re-enacted a gruesome scene from Reservoir Dogs with a drug dealer who had killed two of his friends?

  “Yes, he is.”

  He pulled out his gun, tagged Mike standing near the manager’s trailer. If that bastard had touched his woman … “Are you fucking Mike?”

  That stopped her in her tracks. “Oh. My. God. No, you idiot. If you could get over yourself, I would be fucking you. But since you’re all wrapped up in thinking I need to be saved from your badassness, I might as well do something useful with my time and find my brother. Now, unless you have a death wish, leave me alone.”

  “Are you…” His brow scrunched in a frown. “Threatening me?”

  “Call it what you will. I won’t be stopped.”

  Who the hell was this woman with the spine of steel, and what had happened to the sweet, submissive girl from New York? Or was it really such a surprise? He had seen that core of strength first when she left the family home, and then when she moved across the country to make a life for herself away from the Mafia world when she was only eighteen years old. He just hadn’t recognized what it was.

  “Is this because of last night?”

  Thwack. She slapped him.

  His breath caught, not because of the pain—her blow had barely registered on his cheek—and not because he didn’t deserve it—he did—but because she’d gotten past his guard. No one had ever gotten past his guard.

  The parking lot fell silent, the sounds of arguing fading away as everyone turned to stare. No one slapped members of the De Lucchi crew. They didn’t clap them on the back, squeeze their shoulders, or even throw a mock punch in jest. Rocco had knocked men unconscious for less without even a second thought.

  Not that he would ever raise his hand to a woman.

  Grace glared at him. “That’s for being such a bastard last night and today.”

  He stared as she walked away. Damn. She was still the Grace he’d loved, but now she was a whole lot more—more courage, more strength, more attitude. For the first time, he felt a flicker of hope that maybe there was someone in the world that could handle all that he was, that maybe this time she could accept the ugliness inside him.

  “Gracie. Fuck. Wait. I’ll come with you.” He looked back over his shoulder and gestured for Mike and Paolo to follow.

  “We’re looking for someone in one of the trailers on the east side,” Grace said when they reached the manager’s trailer.

  The manager, a bald, portly dude wearing a Mickey Mouse T-shirt, looked over from the desk where he was watching a game show on TV. “Is he expecting you?”

  “Unlock the fucking gate,” Rocco growled. “It’s a fucking surprise party. And a bullet going through your fucking head is gonna be another fucking surprise if you don’t do it now.”

  Grace groaned loudly. “You don’t have to kill him. I’m sure he wants to help us.”

  “You gonna unlock the gate?” Rocco asked the manager.

  “Not unless your name is on the guest list.” Seemingly unfazed by Rocco’s threats, the manager made a show of looking at the empty guest list on the clipboard on his desk. “Doesn’t look like there are any guests scheduled for today.”

  Rocco reached for his weapon. “There you go, dolcezza. He wants to die.”

  “Please unlock the gate,” Grace said softly to the manger. “He hasn’t shot anyone in days and I can’t control him once he gets the itch.”

  The manager looked from Grace to Rocco and back to Grace again. “I get all types in here saying they’re gonna blow off my head if I don’t open the gate. They never follow through.”

  “Obviously,” Rocco muttered, “else you wouldn’t be talking, ’cause you’d have no fucking head.”

  Grace jabbed him in the ribs and he shot her an irritated glance. She was dragging out what should have been a simple discussion. If he’d been alone, the stupid manager would be unconscious or dead and the gate would be open.

  “They’re probably intimidated. You’re a very imposing guy. I’ll bet you could take a bullet and still ta
ke down anyone who tried to break in.” She batted her eyes at the manager, laughing softly.

  Jesus Christ. Was she flirting with that dirtbag? Rocco didn’t like how the bastard’s eyes had dropped to half mast, or how his thick tongue was licking his big, rubbery lips.

  “I did take a bullet once.”

  “Wow.” Grace breathed out the word, like she had when they’d been in the elevator and she’d said his name. “Was it from something like this?” She opened her purse and pulled out her .22, pointing it seemingly idly at the dude’s chest.

  How goddamn fucking smooth was that? His girl. Leading the fucking slime ball on and turning his lust against him with a subtle threat. For a moment, Rocco wondered if his badness had rubbed off on her, but as he watched the dude at the counter pale, he realized it was a badness all her own.

  “Did you show that to my brother when he came in?” she said, still waving the gun. “He’s always impressed by guys who can take a bullet and carry on.”

  “Who’s your brother?”

  “Tom Mantini. A couple of inches taller than me. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Kind of slim. Looks like me, but a boy. He was supposed to meet me for lunch but he didn’t show and I got worried so I came out to see him.”

  “Yeah.” The dude stared at the gun. “I suddenly remember him. Came here with the guys from trailer twelve.” He glanced over at Rocco and back to Grace. “I guess I can let you in to check on him, but you guys need to leave the weapons behind.”

  “Thanks. That’s so kind.” She gave him a big smile and placed her weapon on the counter.

  Rocco snorted as he removed the magazine from his gun and placed it beside hers. He had six more weapons strapped to his body, and he was damn sure the dude at the counter knew it.

  “What the fuck was that?” he asked as they walked through the gate.

  “That’s called a non-violent solution to a problem.”