Page 75 of Avenging Kelly

We closed the doors to the SUV, and I took London’s hand as we went inside and up the stairs to his place on the second floor. The door was open about an inch, and I glanced at London, who retrieved his gun and looked at me.

“Don’t be a fucking hero. Let’s hit the door and roll. If you get shot, I’ll kick your ass, baby.”

I couldn’t help laughing at my man, but I did as he said, and when we rolled onto our knees inside, there with Chef Rafe sat a man I vaguely remembered from a few years ago. Giuseppe Torrente.

I quickly dropped my gun and put my hand out to stop London so we didn’t have an accidental shooting on our hands. “Mr. Torrente, sir. Thank you for coming,” I greeted as I put my gun behind my back and watched as London did the same.

Mr. Torrente stood from the tiny kitchen chair and stepped forward with his hand extended. I shook it but almost felt as if I should bow or genuflect. “It’s good to see you again, Kelly. London, son, how are you?”

“I’m well, sir. We appreciate the support you offered. Can I ask what happened with Nat Crossley?” Yeah, I was interested in that as well.

Giuseppe Torrente laughed. “In this business, it’s hard to see who the good guy is sometimes. We keep tabs on our enemies, Francesco and me, and he introduced a spy into my organization I didn’t expect. I will be more cautious going forward, and I apologize for any inconvenience this might have brought to you. I disposed of the problem personally.”

I couldn’t say I’d be so gracious, but what was done was done. Chef Rafe had a bright smile when I glanced his way. “I understand you saved my landlord’s granddaughter, Anna?”

“Yes, well, seems Alden Junior allowed his father-in-law to cloud his vision of what’s right and what’s wrong, but Rafael will ensure that mistake won’t happen again. Now, Kelly, if you’ll join me,” Mr. Torrente offered as he pushed in his chair.

I walked with him into the living room, where he turned on the lamp and we took a seat on the couch. Mr. Torrente reached into the pocket of his sports jacket and pulled out a thick envelope, handing it to me.

“I owe you this because your business became involved in my business by mistake. I was glad when Gabriele told me he was helping a soldier because we are dedicated to supporting those who serve their countries. It is a selfless service, and I thank you for that.”

His words humbled me. I wasn’t a hero. I had been an embarrassment to my unit, officers, and fellow soldiers. I put my family before the country, but my family only had me, and I didn’t see any other way except to look for Mia myself. If I hadn’t fucked it up, maybe I could have protected my sister, but that was something I’d really never know.

“Mr. Torrente, sir, I’m not a hero. I left my post to go look for my sister, and that is inexcusable. You owe me nothing.” I tried to hand him back the envelope, but he pushed it back at me.

“One thing I respect more than service to your country is family loyalty. You were looking for your sister who had been kidnapped, and the Army should have taken that into account and allowed you leave so that you didn’t have to resort to such means, though I realize things don’t always happen fairly.”

It was kind of him to say so, but the truth of the matter was that I defied an order to return from my PTO, and I had to accept the consequences—though not that clusterfuck that Ritchfield and her cronies rained down on my head.

Mr. Torrente continued. “This ticket is for you to check yourself into a topnotch rehab facility in Arizona to recuperate from this ordeal. I’ve been in touch with London’s chemist friend who suggested it was one of the best, and he’s collaborated with the professionals at the facility to assist you with your recovery,” Mr. Torrente offered.

I opened the envelope and saw a first-class ticket from New York to Mesa, Arizona, for the next day, along with a pamphlet for New Horizons Center. “I, uh, what about my sister? Trudeau is still on the loose, and how do I know he won’t find them? I appreciate this, but I really need to be here for my family and London,” I said.

Mr. Torrente leaned forward and touched my hand. “Son, you need to be ready to help your family without the aid of the drugs they got you addicted to, and that’s going to require you to be healthy. We can handle Trudeau when he comes out of hiding. I have made many mistakes in my life, and if I can prevent anyone from repeating them, especially someone who has shown such love and dedication to their family, then I’ll do anything necessary to assist.”

“How long would I need to be gone?” I asked him, not sure what to do. I knew I only had a few doses left, so I had to do something.

“Why don’t you talk to London? I believe you’re making a life together, so the two of you talk it over and decide together.”

With that, Mr. Torrente got up from the couch and shook my hand before he left the room. I was a little stunned at his offer, but after a minute, London came into the living room to get me. Rafe was still sitting at the kitchen table with a big grin on his face.

“What’s up, Chef? Are you here to cook for us?” I teased.

He stood from his chair, looking very stylish in a pair of black leather boots and pants, a leather jacket over a black sweater, and a motorcycle helmet under his left arm. He walked over to me and placed a slip of paper in my hand before he touched my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.

“I know I’d want to handle things myself. Come see me in Vegas, guys, and I’ll make you a meal. Be safe. If you need me, call me or my brother. We’ll be there in a flash.” With that, he was out the door.

London locked it and turned to me. “I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed. You coming?” he asked as he walked down the hall.

I lifted the piece of paper to see an address in Sheepshead Bay—Avenue Z and Nostrand Avenue. It was about thirty-minutes away—maybe twenty by bike. There was no way Rafael would have given it to me if it wasn’t important.

“Uh, yeah, babe. I need to go check on my bike if I’m gonna be gone for a while. I’m gonna run and get some gas, okay?” I asked as I headed for the door, checking to be sure my P365 was in its holster behind my back.

I should have told London the truth, but I wanted one last chance to get justice for what happened to my sister, and suddenly, I knew what Rafael’s comment meant about handling things myself.

London stepped back into the kitchen. “Get some lube while you’re out. We need to get a few in the bank before you leave. I assume you can put that in your pocket, yeah?”

I chuckled as I pulled him closer and kissed his lips. “If you snooze, I’ll wake you up with my fingers inside you, getting you ready. I need to use the head before I go, if that’s okay?”

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