Addictive (Diamondback MC Second Generation 3) - Page 19

“You asked for this meetin’. I think it’s only fair you let us know why we’re here, Russo.” Shovel sits down, Razor next to him. That’s when Ruger moves closer. How do I know who each of these men is? That’s simple, really. I’ve been in Texas for years. We may not run in the same circles, but that doesn’t mean you don’t keep your friends close and your enemies closer. In this circumstance, we had no issues with one another until fucking Lorenzo.

“May I?” I ask before moving my hand inside my suit jacket, giving them documented proof of who was responsible and where he is.

“Yep,” Shovel responds. I take the envelope out and place it on the table, sliding it across.

“Inside that you’ll see who was responsible for kidnapping Sailor, something I wasn’t aware of until one of my men told me. The second I knew what happened, Sailor was safe and sound. I assure you that wasn’t at all what I asked of Lorenzo. You see, Henley, well, she was there for my nephew, Dante, in a way I could never repay her. I only asked him to wait five minutes so I could meet her and properly thank Henley. Little did I know that he would take it upon himself to kidnap Sailor, let alone that she was pregnant, until it was too late. You’ll also see proof of how Lorenzo was handled. I only ask you keep this between us four.” Ruger steps forward, looking over the pictures. The slight nod Razor gives may be a gleam of hope. It’s the bottom contract that might really seal some of this. I’ve been told that Diamondback needs something I have, and they have something I want in exchange for what I’m hoping will resolve some of the hostility that’s surrounding the warehouse.

“The fuck,” is Ruger’s response to reading the contract that’s laid out before them. It’s costing me a pretty penny and will be a fuck of a deal for them. The Mexican cartel is in my back pocket, giving Diamondback a free transport route from the border to Texas without any fees or border patrol giving them any issues. It’s a win-win for them; for me not so much. If it makes things easier for Henley and her family, it’ll be worth it, even if she doesn’t forgive me.

“This is going to take a vote between the others. I hope you know this ain’t gonna clear the air, not completely.” This comes from Shovel.

“I figured as much; all I ask is that you don’t fuck up my face. It’ll be hard to explain to Dante why his uncle is bruised there when he knows I’m capable of defending myself.” Each of them glances at the others. I prepare myself for the worst, praying for the best.

“I’m not sure my daughter will ever forgive you; she’s been through more than any twenty-eight-year-old ever should. I don’t know if you’re aware of the last year of her life—the doctor appointments, the surgeries, movin’ across the country from a place she was settled into, only to be told her dreams from when she was a little girl won’t ever happen. So, remember that, keep it all in mind. Henley doesn’t need someone who’s scared and will run away at the first spat. The way you’re here, willin’ to do whatever it takes, I don’t think you’ll run away, but if you do, I’m comin’ for ya.” He gets those words out without giving me time to respond. When the other brothers move from the shadows, I know what this means. I’ll handle it like I know I need to. It’s what we do, us Russos, until the bitter end; we’ll deal with any blow that comes our way.

CHAPTER 17

HENLEY

FOUR DAYS LATER

I’m in the middle of finishing a project for work when there’s a knock on my door. It’s the rapid succession that tells me exactly who it is: my dad. He may come off as this big badass, which he can be, but when it’s him and me, or even around Mom at the house, he’s a big, soft teddy bear. We just don’t tell anyone that. Dad gets pissy if we even tease about him being like that.

“Coming,” I call out as I push myself away from my desk. The knots in my back remind me I’ve been sitting at my desk entirely too long. The only thing in the past couple of days that can make me shut down any and all thoughts of a tall, dark, and devastatingly beautiful Italian man who has literally rocked my world off of its axis.

“Hey, Dad.” I open the door without looking through the peephole, already knowing it’s him.

“Hey, sweet pea.” My eyebrows rise, wondering why he isn’t yelling at me for checking with his supersonic dad senses.

Tags: Tory Baker Diamondback MC Second Generation Romance
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