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Walt
Igobackdownstairs and find them in the living room. Jones has his shirt off so Moonlight can tend to some wounds while Tucker digs into his life. Jones pushes his long, dark hair out of his face and I pull out my hair tie and pass it to him. He needs it more than I do right now. He has a series of scrapes and bruises on his chest and torso like he’s been underground cage fighting. Jones watches me as I look over his injuries.
“Good thing my father taught me how to fight,” he mumbles in accented English. “I would be dead.”
“How many attacked you?” Tucker inquires as he looks up from his phone.
“Five. Three are dead. One was unconscious. The last was the most skilled. I had to hurt him enough to get away. I came straight here.”
“Good call,” I tell him. “Do you think anyone else followed?”
He shrugs and flinches a little when Moonlight starts on the next wound. She keeps her head down, concentrating on her task, but she looks like she’s trying not to cry. I don’t need to remember everything about her to know she hates seeing people hurt. I get it. It’s a fucked-up world but he hasn’t said anything new to me yet. I look at my brother and our son. I believe they’d kill if they had to, but I can see that they’re reeling from Jones admitting to killing three people with the ease of describing what he had for breakfast.
It’s a much different life and a harsher reality than ours. I lived around it for years after gaining consciousness and I’m still not privy to all the details.
“Hard to tell,” he finally admits. “The pain and my focus on getting the fuck away didn’t give me the clearest head. I ditched my jeep before I got here and cut through the field and climbed over the fence. Your guys let me pass since they recognized me.”
They’ve upped security since my return because the public is still very much interested in what I’m doing. Only two of Rowe’s friends have the clearance to get inside. Luckily, Jones is one of them. Between our security and Tucker’s men, Jones should be safe for now, since his stepfather isn’t trying to start a war. Granted, Glenn Royal isn’t Tucker’s territory, but the fact that Jones is with him should be enough. Besides, anything happening to Tucker will activate Czar, his dad. No one wants that. Not to mention, Tucker’s half sister, Kingsley, wouldn’t like it and that means her husband, Ciro, would most likely get involved.
“Found it. You’re Giulio Rossano Vetrone and your brother is Marcello. Your father, the don, died five years ago, but since both of you were thirteen, neither one of you could take over. His right-hand man took the mantle, knowing that a Vetrone would rule again.” He pauses and looks up at Jones. “Let me guess, he then married your mother and tried to control you two?”
“That’s exactly what happened. Once, we ran away and my mom went to find us. She got in a wreck and lost use of one of her legs. He blamed us and said the penalty for going against the family was death.” Jones pulls his shirt back on now that Moonlight is done dressing his wounds. “He would have found any reason to have us killed. He doesn’t want to give up power. My mom got us a reprieve and sent us to the states. We weren’t allowed to know where the other went. If they found me, they probably have found him.”
He drops his head and Whit and I look at each other. We both understand the fear of losing a twin. Hell, he lived it.
“I’ll help look, Jones. No matter the cost,” Whit promises him with a serious sincerity only he has.
“Just let us know how we can help,” I say, addressing Tucker.
He nods and stands. “The first order is getting him back to my complex, then we can work from there.”
Tucker nods at his right-hand Günter as he and his men stand to take Jones. Sparrow, who’s been glossy, eyed the entire time, hugs Jones.
He smiles at the gesture. “You can’t hug me, Cambridge bait. We’re in the lion’s den.”
She snorts and hits him, then immediately apologizes for hitting him while crying. They all must be close friends.
“Go with your aunt, babe,” Rowe tells her as he eyes Jones until they disappear upstairs. “I want to fight you, but you have enough problems.”
Jones laughs. “She hugged me.”
Rowe scoffs, “Not that. First of all, she’s too busy mooning over the old men here to be worried about liking you. I’m mad you didn’t tell me. We could’ve had a plan. You know I’d have your back.” Jones nods as Rowe continues. “I’m just glad you knew where to come when you were outnumbered.”
The boys may not say it out loud, but I can see that they’ve built a try bond. Rowe steps back up, shakes his head like he’s thought better of it and pulls Jones into a hug.
“I’ll see you on the other side of this.” It’s a promise and I know Rowe means it.
After thanking all of us, Jones leaves with Tucker’s men. All I can think is I hope he and his twin will be okay.
Tucker is looking at me and I know he’s back in therapist mode. His brain is moving back to his original mission.
Rowe left to check on Sparrow, leaving Whit and me with Tucker.
“I see that you were in a space last night,” he gives us a smirk, “but I knew Whit could handle it.” He toys with the ring on his finger as he speaks. “Sometimes good family is the best therapy.”
Whit and I laugh a little. “True,” we agree with him.
“But I want to reiterate. Nothing has changed. You can always call or do virtual sessions.” He looks toward the stairs. “Why is Everie trying to leave?”
I tell him about this morning, and he’s laughing by the end.
“Good luck with pissing off an afro-Latina woman,” he cautions, since he’s half Costa Rican. “He stands and walks towards the stairs. “Let me assess the damage.”
