Page 108 of Lips On My Soul

Josephine isn’t convinced. “You withheld a lot of information from him the longer you were with me—you told Atlas as much. This bitch has done nothing to prove that to me—to our family. She has had more time than you did to see the error in her ways.”

“Only because she wasn’t in a position to right herself,” Tony says soothingly. “You and I formed a bond because we were face-to-face. Our bond got stronger after fucknut-Jacob came after us. Gianna didn’t know you as a person the way I did, but she was getting there. She knew the counseling sessions were doctored, and she kept that shit under wrap. She was doing the little she could without exposing herself to Bianchi.”

Josephine looks away heatedly, but I can tell she can see some reasoning thanks to her friend.

Aching to comfort her, my fingers reach out to stroke Josephine’s face, but Tony steps between us. “Atlas, don’t. Not right now—she needs a minute—it’s too raw. You need to deal with Gianna.”

He’s right. I can’t let my emotions navigate me at the moment. I need to be the captain—the MC president—and do my damn job. It kills me to ignore my woman, but I can’t lead if I’m not focused on taking down Bianchi.

Ever since I’ve been involved with Josephine, I’ve been terrified of screwing up like I did during my first mission after meeting her. I nearly lost her because I wasn’t thinking of anything but my job. Now my job is in jeopardy because all I think about is her. I knew I needed to find a balance between the two for some time, and today, I’m forced to follow through with making the tough choice of picking what is the top priority at this moment.

Hell, I want to hold her and she won’t let me. It’s like Tony said—it’s too fresh, and Josephine always needs time to cool down. I need to start recognizing that she has to internalize her emotions before she can deal with them. I hate it, but it is how she processes her feelings, and I need to respect it. The only time I should start to worry is when she’s burying her issues, only then should I step in and help her confront them. I can’t force it any earlier or she’ll resent me.

Punk and Tony have set it up for me to make the choice easier. They stopped her from acting out and were able to reason with her to a degree. Josephine may not understand at this moment, but I pray she will with time. After all, I’m doing this for her and our family.

Josephine’s gaze locks with mine. It’s the moment I acknowledge she’s not running. Josephine is standing her ground and facing all this shit head-on. This would be a celebratory moment if it wasn’t for piss poor timing.

Seeing my woman in pain is cutting me the fuck up inside, but I have to draw the line and do what’s right. Whatever she reads on my face is not what she wants to see. She turns her gaze away from me and I see her walls going up, forming towers around her heart.

This isn’t something that will be fixed by me saying sweet nothings tonight as I hold her in our bed. Saying sorry will fall on death’s ears. I’m in for a long silent treatment, and I pray that’s all.

Sensing my will is crumbling, Gauge lays a supportive hand on my shoulder, halting me from backing Josephine instead of Gianna. Gauge nods at his woman.

Opal steps forward, pulling Josephine away from Punk, and wrapping her arms around my woman in the comfort she needs—the support I’m unable to give.

Simone narrows her eyes at Chase and me before following Opal and Josephine out of the room. Ebony and Red trail after.

Punk gives me a beseeching look—he wants to go with his sister.

I shake my head. “I need you here.”

Punk’s jaw ticks, but he makes no move to leave. He looks at Ziggy with pleading eyes.

Ziggy nods, understanding Punk’s unspoken request. “I’ll text Jared.”

The room seems to settle, knowing Josephine will have the support she needs, allowing us to get down to business. I turn back to Gianna. She’s still weeping, but now she looks scared. Before Josephine went off, I’d been ready to offer my assistance, and Gianna had sensed it. Now she may be wondering if I’m still willing after the accusations my woman threw out.

“We’re going to do everything we can to show that you were a victim in this game Bianchi is orchestrating, but I’ll be upfront with you. If Tom wants to presses charges, there may be nothing I can do to help. Everything you’ve confessed will help your case, but I’m not a lawyer—you may need to do some time,” I admit.

Gianna looks to the ceiling, blinking her eyes to ward off more tears. “As long as Bianchi goes down and my family stays safe, I’ll do the time. What can I do to help?”

What can she do?It’s more like what should I do?

What I should be doing is handing her over to authorities—have them take down Bianchi, trusting the system to do what’s best.

As a Navy SEAL, I had to trust our system—orders were orders, and my hands were tied from doing the right things when I was a Captain. Once again, I feel like a military man with his hands tied, unable to do what I feel is best because it’s deemed illegal.

What I want to do is keep Gianna on-sight, orchestrate an attack, and take out Bianchi and his inner circle. It’s what we do, it’s what we’re good at, and it would all be done within hours. Having Bianchi go through the legal system could take years, with no guarantee he’ll do hard time.

But can I go in and take him out without it blowing back on my men and me?

Not only does Detective Quire and his station know our beef with the Italian mob, but the governor and the FBI are well aware of our mission to dismantle his organization. I would be suspect number one, and they would work their way down the list of my crew. This is not something we can do under the radar.

I pace back and forth, my brothers clearing the way, sensing I’m about to blow my lid. “Fuck,” I mutter. With my hands on my hips, I turn to face my men and one scared young woman. “Chase, call Detective Quire. We need to do this by the books. Bianchi’s organization is bigger than him. We can do more good by going after all of it.”

Gianna’s tears run down her face, her shoulders slump forward as she cries.

I squat to her level. “Quire is a friend of mine. He’s been itching for an opportunity to take Bianchi down. He’s going to get you the best deal he can. You’re a small fish in a big pond—trust me, the DA wants the bigger fish. They want Bianchi—hook, line, and sinker. I’ll call my navy friend who’s a lawyer. He owes me a few favors, and if I ask him, he’ll take you on pro bono. If nothing else, I can call in a favor to the governor. I’ll do what I can. ”

She sniffles and nods her head, ready to meet whatever fate comes her way.

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