In Jack's Arms (Fighting Connollys) (14 page)

Almost timid now, Abby pushed the door open and peeked inside. "Besian?"

"Abby! Come in!" The mobster's warm greeting was quite unlike the reception Jack and his brothers were used to receiving. Though it twisted his gut to seek help from a man so mired in the seedy underworld of Houston, Jack was nonetheless encouraged by the mobster's apparent happiness at seeing Abby.

Following close on her heels, Jack swept his practiced gaze around the interior of the office. He

immediately noticed the second man leaning against the wall behind Besian's desk. He recognized the man

with that ice cold gaze as Kostya, one of the associates of Nikolai Kalasnikov. The Russian had helped

Kelly a few weeks back when his youngest brother had been looking for the jackass extorting Bee over

those graphic photos of her brother.

Bolting out of his chair, Besian rushed around the desk. "What the hell happened to your face?" The mobster glared at him. "Did he hit you?"

Jack put a hand on Besian's chest, stopping the man before he could touch her. "I've never hit a woman in my life. Can you say the same?"

Besian's eyes narrowed. "Bruising the merchandise wouldn't be good for business."

The cold answer fit Jack's estimation of the man. Before the situation could get even tenser, Abby

explained her slightly swollen cheek. "A girl in the self-defense class whacked me with her elbow."

Never one to pass up the chance to insult him, Besian remarked, "It sounds as if you need a better

teacher."

"Besian," Abby said in a slightly pleading tone. "Please. Can we not do this tonight?"

"Fine." The strip club owner returned to his chair and leaned back, sliding both hands behind his head.

"So, Jack, how are you?"

Jack leveled a chilly stare at the mobster. "Peachy. You?"

Besian laughed. "Business is fantastic. I can't complain."

"Happy for you."

Clearly wanting to head off a confrontation, Abby stepped in front of him. She gripped her backpack

tightly in both hands. Though Jack couldn't see her sweet face, he easily read the concern that immediately darkened Besian's expression. The bulldogging was forgotten, and he dropped his hands to the desk.

"Abby, why are you here?"

"I need your help." Her voice cracked, and Jack could only imagine how hard it was for her to come in here and ask for the mobster's protection. Not that it was any easier for him…

"Did those little punks come back? I swear to God—I'll put every last one of them into hospital if—"

"It's not the 1-8-7 crew. It's this." She placed her backpack on his desk and unzipped it. With shaking hands, she removed the camera and passed it over. "I think this was what the person who broke into my shop wanted."

Besian's dark eyebrows arched as he accepted the camera from her. "I don’t understand."

"There's a video on it. Only one video," she added. "And it's gruesome."

"Gruesome?" The Russian interjected himself in the conversation. "Death?"

Abby's head bobbed. "A murder."

Turning on the camera, Besian found the video and hit play. With the Russian glancing over his

shoulder, the Albanian mafia boss watched the brutal hit without even the slightest bit of shock or horror showing on his face. His emotionless coal-black eyes didn't flicker away from the screen for even an

instant.

In that moment, Jack realized Besian Beciraj was even more dangerous than he had ever thought. Any

man who could watch that violent slaying without displaying any feelings of remorse or disgust was a man

capable of unspeakable acts. One quick look at Kostya, and Jack understood that these two men had earned

their reputations through ruthless viciousness. The Russian seemed to be critiquing the crime playing out in front of him, his judgmental expression at times approving and at others disapproving.

When the sound of crinkling plastic filled the air, Besian shut the screen and glanced at his Russian

counterpart. An unspoken discussion occurred between the two men, one that Jack simply couldn't

decipher. Unsettled, he went rigid and tried to read their body language. Had this been a massive mistake?

Were they in even more danger now?

Finally, Besian looked at Abby. "Who else has seen this?"

"Just me and Jack."

Keeping his face a mask, Jack didn't let on that she had lied. While he thought it might be a bad move,

he understood her desire to protect Finn from the fallout of the camera's discovery.

"The girl in this video worked at one of our strip clubs. At Sugar's," Besian said. "Tawny has been missing for two weeks. We thought she had run off with her old man." He tapped the video camera. "This guy. His name is—
was
—Mando Fernandez. He was the sergeant-at-arms for the Calaveras motorcycle crew that runs protection and guns for Romero Valero. He's probably the closest thing Romero had to a best

friend."

Jesus. It was just as bad as they had thought. "The hitman? He's from a rival gang? A cartel?"

Besian held his gaze. "He's freelance and a former spec ops guy. Fuck. You probably worked with him

when you were playing soldier over there."

Jack let the dig slide. "Delta? Rangers? SEAL?"

The mobster shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. He's a myth.
Fantazmë.
A ghost," he translated from his mother tongue. "You contact him through a handler. You make the payment. He makes the hit. End of

story."

"Except now we know what he looks like." Kostya said what they were all thinking. "That's not good for business."

"No," Besian agreed quietly.

"Please, Besian," Abby whispered pleadingly. "Tell me what to do."

"Nothing." Besian handed over the video camcorder to the Russian. "This isn't something a nice girl like you handles. I'll take care of this. You stick close to Jack. If there's one thing these Connolly men do well, it's protect their own."

Jack locked eyes with the mobster. Whatever animosity existed between them, it was clear that Besian

would set that aside to ensure Abby's safety. For some reason, Besian felt intensely protective toward her.

Jack doubted he would ever respect the gangster, but he could stomach to work with him on this.

"Abby, step outside for a minute. I need to speak to Jack alone."

She glanced back at him, unsure whether to follow the order or not. Jack didn't like the idea of being

separated from her. The Russian stepped forward. "I'll guard her. She'll be safe with me."

Jack decided the devil he knew was better than sending her out into the hall alone where anyone could

get at her. He nodded at Abby who reluctantly gathered up her backpack and left with Kostya close behind

her. Alone with Besian, he waited for the other man to speak.

"There's no love lost between us, Jack, but I need you to understand that is all in the past for me. Abby's grandfather was a good partner with my predecessor, and she lives in my territory. Whatever you might

think of me, I believe in loyalty above all things."

"Even money?" Jack couldn't help himself.

Besian cracked a smile. "Even money."

Gesturing to the camera Kostya had put on the corner of the desk, Jack asked, "How bad is this? And

don't bullshit me, Besian."

"It's bad. Ever since Romero Valero killed that witness against his old cartel, he's been making moves south of the border and building up his business. There's friction between Romero and Lorenzo Guzman."

"The drug lord?"

"Yes. We've tried to keep Houston quiet—"

"We?"

"My associates and I," Besian said, refusing to name names. "We've managed to keep a lid on the problems here but that?" He pointed to the camera. "That could set off a fucking war. It might be personal, but only the council can green light a kill between rivals within the city. If that wasn't a personal issue, it was a cartel sanctioned hit that broke the rules—and that's a problem for all of us."

Sucking in a noisy breath, Besian rose from his chair and scratched his fingers through his black hair.

"The only man who can give Abby full coverage on this video is out of town. Kostya will tell me if he can provide some backup on this until I'm able to speak to his boss. If he agrees to help, it won't be cheap."

And there it was. The moment he had been expecting.

Jaw clenching, he asked, "What do you want?"

Besian issued a sharp laugh. "The better question is what are you willing to give me?"

"For Abby? Anything."

"Even your gym? Your house?" The mobster held his gaze. "Your life?"

He didn't hesitate to give his answer. "Take them."

Besian studied him for an unnervingly long moment. "No, I think I'll take something else."

Jack didn't like the sound of it but he couldn't be picky. He needed this man's help. "And what is that?"

"Your integrity."

Gut twisting, Jack slashed his hand through the air between them. "If you think I'm going to go out and hurt someone for you—"

"That's not what I had in mind," Besian interrupted. "I have men who take care of that already. No, what I need is a driver."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "A driver?"

"Yes."

"For?"

"You'll find out tomorrow night. Do you know Merkurie Motors and Towing?"

It was the automotive shop and towing company that Besian owned. "I know where it is."

"Be there by seven tomorrow evening." The mobster picked up a business card and scribbled a number on the back. "You can reach me here at any time. It's my personal number."

Feeling as if he had fallen down the rabbit hole, Jack took the business card. He grabbed the camera

from the corner of the desk. Besian started to stop him but Jack shook his head. "Abby needs this as a bargaining chip. It stays with her. I'm not about to let her become some fucking pawn that you criminal

pricks use to one-up each other."

"Careful, Jack," the Albanian warned. "This criminal prick is all that stands between you and the same wire that choked the life out of those two people." Dismissing him, Besian opened the door of his office.

"Be safe tonight, Jack. I'll send my men to sit on Abby's house."

"She and Mattie are staying with me."

"Then I'll send them to your house."

Jack's skin crawled at the thought of mob enforcers sitting on his house but he grudgingly

acknowledged it was the safest thing for Mattie and Abby. He wanted to choke on his tongue but he uttered

a quick, "Thank you," before whisking Abby out of the strip club and into his truck.

They didn't speak on the drive to her house. He had a feeling she was too terrified or too guilty to ask

what he had promised Besian during their chat. Hating that he compromised himself by agreeing to meet

Besian at the auto shop, Jack acknowledged there was no other way. The decision was simple enough.

Abby's life or his integrity? Abby won hands-down every time and without question.

When they reached her home, he parked in the driveway and walked around to collect her from the

passenger side. Shielding her, he put Abby between his body and the house. Jack constantly scanned their

surroundings. Once they were inside the house, he relaxed a little but not much. "Be quick about it, Abs.

Just grab what you and Mattie need for tonight. We'll come back in the morning to get whatever else you'll need."

She looked as if she wanted to ask him a million questions, but she held her tongue and rushed off

down the hall. He had barely turned back to glance out the newly replaced window when he heard her

panicked voice calling to him.

"Jack! Hurry!"

Heart in his throat, Jack rushed to find her. Frozen like a statue, Abby stood next to her bed. The

bedside lamp illuminated her room, and it wasn't until he stepped up behind her that Jack spotted the items left on her bed.

A long, menacing garroting wire. A picture of Mattie. A slip of paper with a phone number.

Hauling Abby tight to his chest, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. Her terrified

tears soaked the front of his shirt. Soothingly rubbing her back, Jack felt that icy resolve that had gotten him through his tours of duty seeping from his core and spreading into his chest.

This assassin had just made the biggest fucking mistake of his life.

Chapter Eight

Curled up in Jack's bed later that night, I anxiously awaited his return. Ever the protector, he was going through the house, checking windows and doors. I could only imagine the immense amount of stress he felt

right now. Taking on the responsibility of keeping us safe must have been a tremendous weight for Jack to

bear, but surprisingly, he seemed calm and cool about the whole thing.

I had noticed an immediate change in him since finding that stupid video camera in my bag. It was as if

someone had flipped a switch inside Jack. He was no longer the civilian I had come to love so much. He

was a hardened Marine, ready to strike at any moment. Going to Besian for advice and help had been

difficult for him. I had seen the tightness in his jaw and the clench of his fingers, and I loved him all the more for being practical enough to admit when he was out of his depth.

We had never navigated the murky waters of Houston's criminal element. We didn't know the score

between all these crews. We didn't know about the long history of bad blood between the outlaw

motorcycle gang and the cartel. We sure as hell had no idea about hiring a hitman—or calling him off.

My gaze fell on the slip of paper sitting on the bedside table. I hadn't yet called the number. What was I going to say? "Oh, hey, about that video camera someone fenced in my store…? I showed it to a mob boss you might know…"

Yeah.
That
was going to go over really well.

Jack had called Besian on the drive back to his house to let him know the assassin had paid me a visit.