Page 15 of Avenging Kelly

I knew I could trust Giuseppe, but I didn’t want to put him in danger. My brother was going to be sent on his way, as well. If there was a threat to contain, I could, and would, handle it by myself.

“Okay. You don’t have a satellite phone, right?” Giuseppe asked.

“No, sir, which is why I’m being vague. I believe it involves everybody’s Uncle Sam,” I confirmed what I believed he already suspected.

“Fair enough. I’ll have a jet waiting at Teterboro in two hours. The pilot will have instructions for your destination, and I’ll have someone meet you with further information. Be careful, London. If your suspicions are correct, you’ll be in danger. Use every precaution,” Giuseppe instructed.

“Thank you, sir,” I answered before the line went dead.

I went into my closet and lifted the loose hardwood plank, pulling out my emergency kit—a stack of cash, ID for an alias, a shitty burner phone, and a lucky penny Mom had worn in her shoe when she and Dad had gotten married. I never went into an operation without it.

My phone rang on the nightstand again, so I buttoned up the closet and hurried over to it, seeing Casper’s name.

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t speak. Listen. There will be a go-bag on the jet for your primary, including a new identity and secured communication equipment. Call me when you can.”

Before I could say anything, the line went dead. If I didn’t know it was all precautionary, I’d get a fucking complex about everybody hanging up on me.

I finished packing, figuring we’d be able to buy shit we didn’t have from somewhere, and I carried my things into the living room just as Dallas and Kelly came into the apartment.

“Okay, we’ve got about an hour to get to Teterboro. Dal, thanks for everything you’ve done. I’ll take it from here,” I told him.

I could see he was about to protest, so I held up my hand. “For your own safety, I won’t give you details. From here on, it’ll be Kelly and me. You can stay here if you want or you can head home to Vegas. I’ll touch base when I can,” I informed my brother.

I quickly scribbled the number for my burner on a piece of paper and handed it to Dallas. “It’ll be off most of the time, but if you leave a message, I’ll call you when I can.”

Dallas turned to Kelly. “Man, be safe and look out for him. If anything happens to Lon, remember what I said,” my brother semi-threatened as he went to the spare room and packed his stuff.

When the taxi arrived ten-minutes later, Kelly and I were off to Teterboro. Who the fuck knew where we were going, but I trusted Giuseppe. I just hoped to fuck I wasn’t being a gullible idiot.

6

KELLY

I’d packed my duffel as Dallas had instructed, and we’d gone back to London’s apartment. When he’d arrived, he told Dallas goodbye and the two of us headed to the airport. We walked up the stairs of the jet and into luxury like I’d never seen before in my life.

A young guy greeted us at the top of the stairs. “Hello, I’m Carter, and I’ll be your flight host. Can I get the two of you anything?”

“Thank you, but we’re fine. I was told there’s a package…” London started before a tall, gorgeous man stepped up behind us. I’d never seen him before, but London’s face morphed into a big grin that gave me an unwelcome twinge of jealousy deep in my gut.

“Ciao, amico mio!”

London hugged the man, who was really something else. He wasn’t bulky, but it was easy to see he was solid. He was one of those guys that most would underestimate… see as weak. I could tell he wasn’t one to be dismissed.

The man definitely had a friendly smile that was aimed full-on at London, and once again, jealousy crept up my throat. It tasted bitter as fuck.

“Chef, are you hitchin’ a ride in our direction?” London asked the guy.

“I’m here to be your tour guide, London. Who’s your friend?” the man, Chef, asked. What the fuck kind of name is that?

“Oh, sorry, Rafe. Rafael Torrente, this is my friend Kelly Brown. Kelly, this is Chef Rafael Bianco Torrente,” London introduced.

The way London said the name, it sounded as if the man impressed him. I, however, wasn’t. The guy struck me as a douche—a little too good-looking… a little too suave.

Before we could shake hands, because I wasn’t a total dick, the familiar growl of a Harley Panhead engine caught my attention outside the plane. Apparently, it got London’s ear, too, because he walked over to the door and stared for a moment before jogging down the stairs. I followed him to the door to see it was his brother on a beautiful bike, and he had a duffel strapped behind the Sundowner seat.

I turned to Chef Rafael. “Pleasure to meet you, Chef. Call me Kelly. I believe we’re about to get a pretty good show,” I commented as I gestured toward the brothers. Rafe chuckled and nodded.

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