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Amelia stormsout of the office after telling me off, leaving me to watch that heart-shaped ass of hers. All I can think is that I’m going to make that woman my wife as soon as I can get this fucking situation under control.
With the surgery I had last night and the swirling pit of shit my life is in right now, I shouldn’t be sporting a dick that’s as hard as steel, but sure as fuck, I am. Watching that beautiful flaming red crawl up her creamy white skin has me wanting to bend her over this desk and smack her ass hard enough to see my handprint there while I’m fucking her. It’s not until Sebastian speaks that I’m pulled back from the spell Snow just cast over me.
“Damn. When did Amelia become the type to yell? And how did I get lumped into that outburst?” Bash is staring at the open door, his mouth hanging wide open in shock.
Not sure how to answer that, I sort through my pills and swallow a handful. “There’s so much you don’t know, Bash.”
“About that...” Bash closes the door and sits down across from me. “I had breakfast with Lenny’s family yesterday,” a muscle ticks in his jaw as he adds, “before we met for lunch.” He leaves off before the explosion that killed Pop. “Have you ever talked to Amelia about her childhood?”
Well, fuck.
Maybe Bash knows more than I thought. “We’re not talking about this, Sebastian.”
“We have to, Sam. I told Max—”
“Stop. Don’t finish your sentence. Before I talk to you about this, I need to talk to Amelia.” Over the course of the last twenty-four fucking hours, I managed to forget that I needed to tell Amelia that she has an entire family who’s actively looking for her. “She doesn’t know anything. And my plate’s a little full. Give me a few days, man. I can’t do this with you now. Not today. Not because of Max Fucking Kingston.”
Bash leans forward in the chair and picks up the framed picture of Mom that’s sat on this desk for years. He studies it for a minute, then looks at me. “They’re together now. Mom and Pop.” He places it back down in its spot and stands up. “Do what you gotta do but know that they’ve involved Uncle Dino. I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.”
“Thanks, little brother. Listen, I need you here this week. We don’t know who set that bomb. We don’t know if it was meant for me or if there’s more planned. Let me figure out what the fuck’s going on before you go home. Okay?” I know this isn’t what he wants to hear, but he knows it’s the right thing. It’s not just to keep him safe. It’ll keep everyone around him safe too.
That’s Bash’s MO.
He’s the protector.
He’d never willingly put anyone else at risk.
“I gotcha, man. I’m here till the funeral. Then I’m going back to my life. This... This isn’t my life. It’s yours.” He reaches for the door, but I stop him.
“Bash.” He doesn’t turn. Doesn’t look at me. “We’ll talk to Sabatini at the funeral. You’ve got to give me till then. Just a few more days.”
Sebastian nods his head and walks out of the office.
I owe it to him to get this handled.
To keep him safe.
I go to grab my cell phone from my pocket but then remember it blew the fuck up with my car. Eyeing the landline Pop always kept on his desk, I wonder briefly how long it’s been since I’ve picked one of these up. Muscle memory has me dialing Uncle Nick’s number. I hear the phone ringing in my ear but also ringing in the hall right before Nick walks through the office door. “Tell me what you’ve got.”
He slams the door shut behind him, throws his coat on the back of the couch across the room, and sits down in front of me. “Our people reached out to the Commission. New York says this wasn’t sanctioned. We’ve had ears to the street since last night. Nobody’s talking. Nobody’s taking credit. None of these cocksuckers know a fucking thing.” Uncle Nick has been Pop’s consigliere my entire life, a position I plan to keep him in.
I want Dean to take over as underboss.
He needs to be me.
But I’ve got to get this shit dealt with first.
“I don’t give a fuck who you have to torture. Call in every fucking favor. Turn over every fucking stone. Get me a name. Find this motherfucker. And bring him to me alive. I want to look him in the eye before I kill him myself.”
When Dean enters the room, he throws a new cell phone down on my desk. “I dropped some clothes in your room upstairs too.”
“Thanks, man. Now get Mike on the phone. Let’s see if he’s found anything.”
Mike answers on the first ring. “Listen, I’m searching everything I can find. But it takes time, Sam, and the blast knocked out the cameras around the restaurant. I’ve put everything else on hold, and I’m only working on this. I should have something soon.” The sound of Mike’s fingers flying across a keyboard is the only noise heard in the room.
“There can’t be a ‘should’ with this one, Mike. I need this information, and I need it now. Call me when you’ve got something for me.” I hang up the phone, no closer to an answer than I was this morning.
* * *
