Page 85 of Unholy Vows (Original Sin)

I sighed heavily, irritated by the fact that I might get blood on my suit. I hefted the club in my hand, giving it a short spin before I smashed the heavy head against Reynolds’ cheek. A couple of teeth flew out onto the grass, and the man fell to his knees.

“Did that jog your memory? Shake something loose?”

Reynolds gripped his jaw like it was broken or dislocated. Maybe it was. I didn’t care. Elio handed me a stack of photos, and I tossed them on top of Reynolds.

“I want to know where this man hides out, and don’t try and tell me you don’t know.” The CCTV showed Reynolds meeting Juan, the same smooth ambassador who’d recently strolled into my warehouse on Clements Drive.

The patrón of the cartel.

“What does he want?” I asked, dropping to a crouch beside Reynolds.

“Just those two nobodies, the nurse and her sister – and to get rid of you. Obviously, I told him to take a hike.”

“Sure, you did. Let’s get something straight. You can’t fight me, Reynolds. You can’t take me, not even with the Castillo kids behind you. You can’t change my grip on this city, and you can’t erase the leverage I have over you.”

I stood. Judge Ellens cowered by their golf cart. This was the same judge who signed off on all the questionable paperwork Commissioner Reynolds sent his way, and yet he was dumb enough to look surprised that he’d pissed someone off.

“Detectives Vane and Whitely. Do they work for you?”

Reynolds rolled around on the ground, clutching his mouth and spitting blood down his chest.

“Call them off, if they do. If they don’t, find a way to make them back off. I’m tired of them, and the next time I have to come and talk to you about it will be the last.” I held out a hand for the sand and seed bottle and frowned at it as Elio passed it over.

I’d been planning on pouring some sand down Reynolds’ throat to get the message across, but the disgusting pigs had pissed in the bottle used for maintaining the course.

I sloshed the bottle threateningly over Reynolds’ body. “I see you with another Castillo, and this conversation goes very differently. You can’t take me on in my city, Reynolds. Don’t even try it.” I poured the piss-ridden mixture over him before tossing the bottle at Judge Ellens, who fumbled as he tried to catch it.

“See you soon, gentlemen.”

27

CHARLIE

The grounds of Casa Nera were pristine in the late December afternoon. The woods beyond the walls were still wearing their fall foliage, and the sky was a clear, pale blue. The faint scent of woodsmoke hung in the air, like someone was burning leaves nearby.

Gravel crunched underfoot as I walked away from the biggest house on the compound and headed around the back. Sonny dogged my steps, staying at least a few yards behind. Here and there, I glimpsed armed guards on patrol. I recognized one of them as Tony, the guy whose face I’d patched up my first night in Casa Nera. The night I’d promised Renato to worship him. Tony waved at me, smiling broadly. I returned his warm gesture.

Around the back of the sprawling mansion house was a small wooded area, a vegetable patch with a greenhouse, and a tiny stone building. Today, for the first time, lights blazed inside the small windows of the cute building.

“What is that?” I asked Sonny, waiting for him to catch up.

“It’s the late Mrs. De Sanctis’ chapel. Renato’s mother’s. He keeps it well-maintained. She loved it in there.”

“Can I see?” I was already toward the doors.

Sonny hustled after me, hanging back in the doorway, like he was scared to step across the threshold onto holy ground.

Renato’s mother had her own chapel? It was small and quaint, like it had been transported brick by brick from Italy. The kind you might come across in some pretty mountaintop town, with its red bricks, ivy-covered façade, and lead-paned, stained-glass windows.

Inside, a cross hung on the wall over the simple altar, and to the right, a marble Madonna looked benevolently across the humble pews. This wasn’t a church to show off in. It was the church of a true believer. It wasn’t ornate or impressive. It was simple and beautiful. Candles were lit on nearly every surface, the air heavy with incense.

I drifted down the aisle and slid into a pew. I hadn’t been inside a church since before my Da died (except for my wedding, of course, which hardly counted). Because of the pain I’d felt as a young kid, feeling abandoned and unloved by the adults in my life, I’d turned my back on my father’s beliefs. I couldn’t see my faith returning anytime soon, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel comforted by the peace and stillness of the place.

I closed my eyes and let that peace sink through me.Please. Someone show me the way.I wished someone would answer, because I was in real danger of falling in love with a devil and had no idea how to stop it. The thought of the bug circled my head and tormented me. Should I just destroy it?

“This was my mother’s chapel.” Renato’s voice made me jump. I opened my eyes and glanced at him. He lounged in the doorway, staring at the marble Madonna.

This morning had been the filthiest and greatest sexual moment of my life. I’d had no idea I was capable of four consecutive orgasms. Hell, until I’d met Renato, I hadn’t known I was capable of an orgasm that involved another person, period. I’d always been too tense, distracted, or hurrying toward the finish line. I’d always been too worried what the guy was thinking about me. Always too in my head and cut off from my body.

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