Page 55 of Chaos & Carnage

“Not yet, Spitfire. I can’t yet.”

Sweat beads along his forehead and his molars grind together with the effort of staving off his release, and I understand at that moment he’s not saying that he’s not ready to come yet. He’s saying he’s not ready for this to be over. Despite his pretty words a moment ago, he’s as unready to let us go as I am. There is still too much unfinished, too much unsaid.

Finally, when neither of us can take it anymore, we both give in to what our bodies desperately need. Still clinging to one another, I cry out my release while he grunts out his, our faces buried against one another’s necks. I can feel the hammering thud of his heart against his rib cage, mirroring my own as I hold him close, feeling the weight of his arms wrapped around me.

The sweat has long since dried along my skin, my pulse returned to a normal rate, when the buzzing of our phones pries us apart. Enzo digs his out of his jeans pocket, his soft expression immediately dissipating as he reads the message.

“They have Giovanni’s location.” Tearing his gaze away from the phone, his expression is once again unreadable when his eyes meet mine. “Time to face whatever fate has in store for us.”

Chapter 20

“He’s at the casino,” Dante informs us as soon as Enzo and I approach. All three of them were standing in the back alley behind Toxic, waiting for us with their split knuckles and blood-splattered tops.

“Okay, so how do we get to him?” I ask, thankful for the time afforded by our walk back to help clear my head. Gone is the emotional Sawyer from that rooftop and in her place is the Reaper, ready to dive headfirst into this final hurdle so she can finally start the life they’ve all been waiting for.

“That’s going to be the hard part. The casino is heavily guarded—both the entrances and the casino floor will have security men and cameras covering every inch, not to mention the numerous men in the control room watching the monitors.”

“Where in the casino is your father most likely to be?” I question, mulling over everything Dante has said.

“The floors above the casino contain offices and rooms for men to stay in when needed, but the top floor is solely for my father. It contains his suite and office. It’s where he conducts any business meetings that aren’t with his closest advisors and where he takes potential business partners to wine and dine them before agreeing to whatever nefarious deal they’re both striking. Second to his skyscraper, it’s the most secure building the Antonellis own.”

“Great,” Cain drawls. “And I’m guessing we can’t use the tunnels again.”

“No. He’ll have them all blocked off or rigged to blow if we set foot in them. And he’ll have changed all security codes and probably have warned his men not to let me in, or report to him if they see me.”

“Well, all of this sounds very promising,” Oliver says sarcastically. “Why don’t we go back to the house and discuss it over coffee—ideally after a shower. I need to get that asshole’s blood off my skin.”

With a heavy cloud hanging over all of us, we ride silently back to what I now know is Oliver’s house. I’d initially assumed Cain had bought it, possibly for more space for his men before they moved to the motel. However, as I step out of the SUV and look up at the house, I try to picture Oliver as a child growing up here. The way he spoke about his father, the pain and disgust in his voice, it was clear his childhood was just as complicated as the rest of ours. Parents really do fuck up their kids, eh? I hope to hell I never do that to mine. Surely if you have loving parents it counts for something? But then, from what I’ve gathered, Cain’s parents loved him and Evie, and his father still managed to utterly destroy his children. It’s a depressing thought, one I choose not to dwell on. It’s not like it’s a concern right now, anyway. Something I can worry about if we all make it through today.

One at a time, the guys shower, Enzo going first so he can fix us all breakfast—the only one of us who can actually do more than fry an egg—and I put on a pot of coffee for everyone.

Thirty minutes later, we’re all gathered around the kitchen table, our stomachs pleasantly full. “Whatever we decide to do, we should wait until tonight when the casino is busier,” Dante states, the others nodding in agreement.

The next hour is spent spitballing ideas, but nothing quite works. We can all agree that Dante, Enzo, and me would all be spotted as soon as we step foot in the casino. Chances are, Giovanni’s men only have a vague description of Cain and Oliver, if even that. The problem is, we can’t all agree on how to utilize that.

“I say Dante should walk straight through the front door, demanding to talk to Daddy dearest. Oliver and I will slip in unnoticed, and while you keep him distracted, we can sneak Sawyer and Enzo inside. The four of us can head up the stairwell to Giovanni’s floor, taking out any guards we come across until it’s just him and us. Outnumbered with nowhere to run, he’ll be easy pickings.”

“And what about the cameras and the men watching from behind them?” Dante counters, spearing Cain with an incredulous look.

“Alright, we make a detour to crash their security system on our way up to rescue you from your dad.”

It all sounds flimsy at best, but we’re running out of time and with every passing minute and half-baked idea thrown out, I’ve been gnawing on my bottom lip more and more. Now, blood coats my tongue, tasting like an omen of things to come.

More ideas are tossed around, yet I find myself zoning out, my thoughts turning inward as I try to devise a plan that won’t get us all killed.

“Any objections, Red?” Oliver asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Huh?” I snap my gaze up, staring at each of them in turn as I scramble to recall what they were saying. “Oh, no. Sounds like a plan.”

At least, as good of one as we’re going to get in such a short timeframe, with such few resources.

“Good, then we’re all agreed,” Cain states with finality. “We should all catch a few hours of sleep before we move out.”

He’s right, we were up all night, and I’m sure I look as haggard as they all do. The problem is, my mind won’t switch off enough to sleep, and despite the murmured round of agreement, everyone seems to be as on edge about tonight as I am.

Needing to feel close, we choose to spend what little time we have left together; Cain and Enzo remaking the bed on the floor of the living room with the sofa cushions. Once ready, we all climb in, all four of them cuddling close to me until one by one, they are pulled into a fitful sleep, leaving me alone to stare at the ceiling above.

I lie there for an hour or so, going over everything in my mind, weighing the risks. As far as I can tell, it’s the best option. Marginally better than the ideas they were tossing around earlier. The main benefit is that it doesn’t put any of them at risk, which is precisely what I’m trying to avoid. When the four of them were talking earlier, every idea they had involved too many unknowns. There were too many ifs, buts, and maybes for me to be happy. Now, my plan is no more foolproof, but it only puts one person in harm’s way instead of five. I know it’s an asshole move, and they’ll be pissed—just like I would be if one of them pulled this stunt—but if I defeat Giovanni, what does that matter? I’d happily risk my life than have them risk theirs. I can’t go through what I did the other night, thinking Cain and Oliver were dead. I just can’t.

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