Unjustified Demands (Filthy Florida Alphas Book 2) (14 page)

“Damn it, Bruno, you better start getting it together or I’ll find someone else who can.”

“Got it, boss,” he says before shaking his head and leaving the room. I’m taking out my frustration on him. It’s not right, but that’s definitely what I’m doing. I’m so fucking keyed up over Ana, I don’t know which end is up. I’ve thought of little else since I left her this morning. That’s how fucking twisted in knots she has me. It’s ridiculous. It’s also why I’m looking at her lowlife piece of shit brother instead of working like I need to be doing.

“Why are you still letting me breathe?” he whispers, his voice hoarse. Not from beating. No. My guys haven’t touched him since I met Ana. No, the detox from the shit in his veins is what is killing him now. Quitting cold turkey when he’s this addicted is probably not wise, but I have the doctor on my payroll checking him out and Bruno or one of the boys watches him twenty-four-seven. I figure that’s more than he deserves and definitely more than I owe the fucker.

I have him chained to a cable like a damn dog. On his wrist is a tight cuff that’s attached to a steel chain. The chain connects to a link that’s on a steel cable. It allows him leeway to walk to a bed and then to a bathroom that contains nothing but a toilet and small shower. He has no shirt on, but his jeans are starting to look extremely dirty. In truth, he looks like hell, but he’s still breathing. You would think that’d make the douche thankful.
I guess not.

“Ana,” I tell him and watch as shock slams through him. That describes it perfectly. It hits him with the force of a fist to the gut.

“How do you know about Ana?”

“You’ve been too high to notice before, Stevens, but I know everything. What I can’t figure out is how someone as beautiful and giving as Ana shares the same fucking blood as a parasite like you.”

“Oh yes. Saint Ana. Let’s all take a minute to bow at her feet. If we’re lucky, she might spare a minute to turn her nose up at us.”

His words turn me cold as I hear them. I don’t think about it. I grab the fucker by the neck, slamming him up against the wall.

“Do not say one thing against Ana. You’re only alive right now because for some unknown reason to me, she cares about you. Be grateful, motherfucker.”

“How did straight-laced, holier-than-thou Ana get hooked up with you?”

I apply pressure to his neck, squeezing until he can no longer take air. He brings his hands up to try and claw at me, his face turning blue. “She’s been putting herself at risk to try and save your fucking ass. Something I have a feeling she’s done her entire life. So do yourself a favor and do not mention Ana to me unless you can be a grateful fuck. Because I warn you, Stevens, one more bad word about my woman and I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to you. Are we clear?” He doesn’t answer, but then he can’t. I ease my hold just enough to allow him a breath.
“Are we clear?
” I ask again. His fear of death must be larger than I gave him credit for, because his red, splotchy face nods in agreement quickly. A pity. I think I would have enjoyed cutting out his tongue. I give him one last shove. He doesn’t go anywhere because he is still against the wall, but it makes me feel better. Then, I step back.

“Why are you here?” Allen asks when he can talk again. His neck is red from where I held him and I feel a certain amount of satisfaction from seeing it.

“Since I’m letting you live, I thought it would be a good time that you and I come to an understanding, especially about your sister.”

“And if I refuse? You’ll kill me? You might as well do it now.”

“No.” I sit in a chair just beyond the reach of Allen’s chains. “If you insist on being a fucking idiot, I’ll do worse.”

“Worse than dead?” He laughs.
Jesus Christ, he is naïve.
No wonder Ana has worried herself sick over him. She’s done him no favors trying to protect him and take care of him, though. He’s weak in more ways than just his penchant for sampling his own merchandise. “Good luck with that.”

“Much worse,” I assure him, staying on course. Today’s visit is all about putting real fear into him. “I’ll turn you over to Kuzma,” I tell him, naming the head of the Russian mob. “I’ll be sure to tell them you’re the fucker who’s been messing with their business in town.”

He pales, and I know my barb hits home. Even he’s not that stupid.

“He’ll just kill me too. Either way, I’m dead.”

Apparently he is that stupid. Again, I’m amazed that he and Ana share the same blood in their veins.

“He’ll make you pray for death and eventually he will kill you. It’s what he does from the time he has you until he grants your prayer that you need to worry about.”

“What do you want from me?” Allen asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Just your cooperation. Well, that and some information.”

“About what?” he asks, hate shining in his eyes.

“Ana.”

He gets this weird look on his face, but he nods his head in agreement.
Finally.

It’s been a fucking day. I wish I had just stayed in bed with Ana. I left her brother and it’s official.
I can’t stand the motherfucker
. That’s the only conclusion I’ve come to. His constant disrespect of Ana tests my limits continually. I get the feeling he’s holding something back from me, something he’s enjoying keeping a secret. I have no idea what it is. I wanted insight into Ana. I thought I’d be able to get more personal information from her brother than what my men would have found. I just can’t figure out exactly what cards Allen is holding—
or thinks he is
. Something about that man sets every alarm bell I have off. I’m going to have Bruno dig deeper into Ana’s background. If she’s hiding something, I need to know what it is.

The day got worse after dealing with him and I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. I traveled to the Ocean View Nursing Facility to visit Reese’s mom. I lost two good men thanks to that fucking stunt pulled by Paul Banks. That fucker is a thorn in my side and I’ve been putting off dealing with him. He’s a cop, but as crooked as the day is long. I should know; he used to be on my payroll. The thing is, most of the men I have on my payroll I can trust. There’s honor involved, honor among thieves if you must. Paul Banks has
no
fucking honor. He didn’t feel he was getting a big enough cut and the motherfucker mishandled a deal I was involved in, so I cut him loose. Problem is, Paul didn’t take to being fired and left out of the payoff. I could give two shits about it, except now he’s morphed into super-cop, determined to bring me down. I would have already killed the motherfucker, but I was trying not to draw attention to myself while brokering a deal with Kuzma, but my patience is near an end. Telling a wife her husband wouldn’t be coming home yesterday was bad. Today, telling Reese’s mom that her son is dead was worse. He’s all she had. I’m taking over all of her bills and she’ll never have to worry about anything for the rest of her life, but that means shit when it comes to never seeing her son again.

I’m walking down the hall to go outside when I hear a woman screaming. At first I tune it out. Hell, if I was in this place and unable to get out, I’d probably be screaming too. I walk by the door of the room in question. Hearing some woman call another person every vile name they can think of, and all I can think is,
I need out of this place.

That’s when I hear her.
Ana
.

“Mom, I told you I can’t get you out of here. I have to work fulltime. There’s no way I can take care of you.”

“Bullshit. It’s your fault I’m in here! Get me the fuck out of here! I’ll go live with your brother, Allen.”

“That’d be great mom, except no one can find the asshole,” Ana says with a huff.

“I don’t give a fuck what you have to do, Ana Louise Stevens, you get me the fuck out of here. You owe me that much.”

“Mom, I can’t,” Ana argues. The distress in her voice is so thick, I find myself walking into the room before I can even think about it. Ana has her back to me. She’s talking to an older woman across from her who sits at one of those table-on-wheels. “You’re fine here,” Ana continues, walking around the table to her. She begins putting an afghan around the woman’s obviously useless legs. “They take good care of you. With my job, there’s no way I can…”

I see it happening, but there’s just no way I can stop it. The woman screams loudly and slaps Ana hard across the side of the face. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes in the room followed by Ana’s pain-filled gasp. I don’t think. I take the few steps that are necessary to get in front of Ana and look at the shrew in question. Her hand is half raised to strike Ana again. I grab it by the wrist.

“Lady, if you lay so much as one more finger on Ana, it will be the last thing you do,” I warn her coldly.

“Who the fuck are you?” the bitch barks at me, trying to yank her hand away.
Not happening.

“Roman!” Ana gasps. I lift my eyes to her and the angry telltale hand mark has already bloomed on her face.

“Ana, go to my car.”

“Roman, that’s my mother, I can deal with her.”

“I said go to the fucking car, Ana.”

“Jesus, is
this
the man you’re fucking?” the woman growls.

“Mom,” Ana starts.

“Now, pet.”

“
Yes, now, Ana
,” her mother mimics, and I’m starting to see where Ana’s brother gets his charm. Thank fuck my woman seems to have skipped that particular family trait. “Has he taught you to fetch too?”

That’s it. No more. “Ana, Robert is waiting by the limo. Go and get in it now,” I growl and the command in my voice is one I’ve not really used with Ana before, and perhaps that’s been wrong. She looks at me, her eyes round. The anger and coldness in my voice isn’t directed at her, but there’s no way for her to know that. Truthfully, I am upset with her and she will know that later, but I want to shut her bitch of a mother down first, then I’ll deal with Ana.

“Limo? Well, la-de-dah. No wonder she’s fucking you. All that money and you are leaving me in this hellhole? You fucking cunt,” her mother hisses the vile words. Ana’s body physically jerks from the verbal blow. Then I see this steel mask lock into place. She doesn’t even look like the woman I know.

“Maybe if you had stopped shooting up and snorting, you wouldn’t have to be in here and I wouldn’t be working my ass off to make sure there are people to wipe your ass because you left your body too broken to do it yourself,” Ana says, her voice monotone and as cold as I’ve ever managed to make mine.

Her fucking mother starts to respond, and that’s when I tighten my hand on her wrist enough that I know the woman feels the pain. I could break it with just the slightest movement either way. It wouldn’t take much because the woman is a bag of bones. I’ve never in my life threatened violence against a woman before, but in this case, I think I could gladly make an exception. Jesus Christ, what kind of fucking hell has my woman lived through?

“Ana,” I warn her, not wanting her to hear what I’m about to tell her mom, but also needing her to mind me for motherfucking once. Her hand goes to my shoulder, her touch trying to soothe me.
It does not.
Then, she leans up to kiss my cheek.

“I’ll be by the limo,” she whispers near my ear.

“Not by the limo, Ana. Inside it.”

She stops when she gets to the door. “Yes, Roman,” she says before leaving. Now if I could just teach her to say those words all the time, my life would be fucking simple again. I give Ana a few minutes to get gone. Her mother is strangely quiet. I let go of her hand and step away from her, the bitch stinking up my air.

“You don’t look like a man that has to pay for pussy. Especially worthless pussy like my daughter’s.”

“If you want to remain breathing, you’ll shut your fucking mouth. Do you know who I am?” I ask her. Most people in Miami do, but then most people aren’t locked up in a long-term nursing facility.

“Why the fuck would I?” she hisses. She reaches for her cigarettes on the table. It’s then that I notice one of her hands doesn’t work. Actually, it seems like most of that entire side doesn’t work. I don’t know what happened to her, but from what Ana said before she left, I imagine drugs. I hate fucking junkies. It’s why I don’t deal with the shit. I leave that to Kuzma. The drugs are the only reservation I have about getting into business with him. Being in business with them however, means less headaches for me and added firepower. It makes damn good money sense. It keeps me being the only stop along the coastline for gambling and women. Not to mention, it gives me more firepower to protect what’s mine and to protect the women in my stable. There’s always some motherfucker out there thinking he can take what’s mine, always trying to steal my business. That’s not about to fucking happen, but I’m having to defend that shit so often, having Kuzma’s firepower, not to mention police protection would solve a million problems.

The first item on my list is fucking ending Paul Banks. I’ll be doing it either way, but being certain there would be no legal backlash would be great. I don’t need all of the law enforcement agencies in Miami and Federal people looking at me with a fucking target on my head.

I grab the bitch’s cigarettes from her fumbling hands. Taking one out and handing it to her, I keep the pack in my hand, taking the lighter too. Maybe she’s starting to wise up, or maybe she just really wants that cigarette, but I sense the change in her. I have her complete attention now.

“I own Miami. When I say I own it, I mean this shithole you’re living in too. It will look like fucking heaven compared to what I can do to you. You’re a miserable fuck, I get that. You are probably like your fucking son and would rather die than keep drawing breath. What you need to realize is, there’s much worse things than dying, and I can make sure you find that out firsthand.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asks, but I hear the nervousness in her voice; I see her eyes and how they are dilated. 

“You like drugs. I have friends use this stuff on their enemies that, with one injection, turns you into a vegetable. When I say that, I mean you will be fully alert, fully awake, but hooked to a machine that feeds you, have diapers on your ass, and not be able to bitch about how miserable you are. Unable to move. It’s bad shit. I’ve never been tempted to deal with it. That is, until I saw a miserable bitch raise a hand to my woman.”

“Ana is—”

“My property. Mine. No one touches what’s mine, least of all you. Your hand, your words, your breath no long touch my woman. If I hear it does, I promise you, you’ll find out firsthand what living in real hell feels like.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“You think? Ask around. I guarantee people here know who Roman Anthes is, even if you’re too stupid to. You don’t want me as an enemy, woman, but that’s too late for you. Much too late. If Ana comes back, you best be a fucking saint ready to kiss her fucking feet. And believe me lady, I’ll have eyes on you from here on out.”

The bitch wisely doesn’t say another word. I smash her cigarettes up in my hand. The smell of tobacco fills the air around me. I make sure there’s not one motherfucker in the pack that can still be used before letting them fall to her lap, then I walk to the door.

“Don’t try me on this bitch,” I warn her on my way out. “I’ve never had much taste for harming a woman, but after what I’ve just seen, I’d make an exception for you, and I’d fucking enjoy every minute of it.” With that, I toss the lighter across the room, having it land on the floor a few feet from her. Then I leave. Time to deal with Ana next. Thank fuck that will be more enjoyable than the other shit I’ve dealt with today.