Interlude (Rockstar #4) (3 page)

"Fast reflexes, Cage," Giovanni tells me.

"I knew something was wrong."

He nods. "Always trust your instincts."

Ernesto looks at Giovanni with a smirk. "I told you."

Giovanni nods again. "So you did."

I have no clue what they're talking about and, as I watch them pick Cesare Manzini's lifeless body off the floor, I really wish I did.

"You'll train him and we'll groom him," Giovanni tells Ernesto.

"For what?" I ask.

"Second in command," Ernesto replies.

"What? No. That's your position."

He shakes his head. "I don't want it. I knew you were the one for the position as I watched you come up in the ranks. Dedication and loyalty are rewarded."

Are they fucking with me? I'm not even blood related. Is this possible? Do I want this?

Giovanni is watching me closely. "I know what you're thinking. You, of all people, should remember, Cage, sometimes family isn't always blood. Sometimes family is where you find it."

I nod, thinking of Joan.

"Do you want this?" Ernesto asks.

Do I? Holy fuck, what they're asking me is insane. They're asking me to be Giovanni Russo's right hand. They're asking me to be second in command to the Russo organization—to
la Famiglia
, to replace Giovanni's brother, Lorenzo, who died last year at the hands of the Manzinis.

Do I want the responsibility? Do I want the power that comes with that position? Do I want this,
really
want this?

"Yes," I answer, and both Ernesto and Giovanni nod.

"Then we begin immediately," Giovanni tells me.

I expected nothing less.

I anticipated this but
not so quickly.

I look on as Gio stands in front of the Russo
Famiglia
and I work to remain straight-faced and expressionless as he announces that I, at the age of twenty-three, am to become his second. I know what the responsibility of this means. I also know it's for life. This is my family.

There are no expressions of shock or outrage. Just accepting nods and murmured congratulations.

Ernesto claps his hand on my shoulder. "Let's go have a drink, Nickels."

I nod as we head toward the bar in Ernesto's (yeah, Ernesto owns the club that houses our
Famiglia
meetings and celebrations).

Carlo pours me a scotch, neat; then sets a beer and a shot of whiskey in front of Ernesto.

Ernesto lifts his shot glass. "Congratulations, Nickels."

"Yeah, thanks," I murmur, still adjusting to the fact I'm now his boss rather than the other way around. "You realize I still think of you as my boss."

Ernesto smiles. "And that's as it should be. Just because I didn't take the chair doesn't mean I'm not right up alongside you, helping you carry out what needs to be done as second."

I nod. "Same as it's always been."

He nods. "Same as it'll always be, unless you say otherwise."

"Not going to happen. This is yours. It was intended for you and you deserve to be part of it," I tell him straight up.

"I appreciate that," he replies.

"If you two are done hugging and talking about your periods," Giovanni says, walking up, "let's share a couple drinks and celebrate how Cage has already helped and continues to solidify and strengthen
la Famiglia
."

"Here, here!" Everyone lifts their glasses.

I nod and down the rest of my drink.

Giovanni rests a hand on my shoulder. "You once saved my life. I won't ever forget that."

"You and Ernesto saved mine as well, so I'd say we're even," I remind him.

Gio inclines his head in partial agreement. "I'll always owe you for not being there for your mother. If I'd known…"

"Gio," Ernesto begins, "she knew to call if she needed help. She didn't make that call."

"She knew what she was doing," I tell them. "She couldn't take any more from the old man. She barely made it through the last beating, if you remember."

Giovanni's jaw ticks. "I remember. He didn't suffer enough."

Ernesto nods. "Nickels was just a boy then and he was fucking terrified at what he thought I was going to do to him. I wasn't able to take the time I'd have liked to make that bastard suffer as he deserved."

I nod, then lift the glass that Carlo just refilled. "May the bastard burn in hell."

"I'll drink to that," more than one man says, and I realize just how many men knew my father—and hated him.

"I'm surprised he lived as long as he did," I mutter.

"You and me both," Gio replies. "But he's dead now and you've made something of yourself you can be proud of. Look forward, not back."

I nod.

There's nothing in the past to look back at now. There's only the future.

I know it's wrong
for a twenty-five-year-old man to be enamored with a seventeen-year-old girl, but there's a pull to her I can't resist. She has so much growing up to do before I make her mine. It's a good thing I am a patient man—and an understanding one, or I'd have killed the boy she took to her prom, the one she lost her virginity to in a hotel room, the one she thought she was in love with. Then she caught him with another girl. My broken-hearted girl wept for the asshole who didn't deserve any of her tears. I know all of this because she and Luciana are monitored. Only a few of us are privy to the information on those tapes and images, and I make sure no one ever knows their secrets. Only me. Well, and Gio. The man knows everything.

I see her everywhere. I long for her—to touch her smooth skin, kiss her soft lips, see her smile, hear her laugh. I'd do anything for her. I'd die for her. It's been this way from the first moment I saw her.

She's across the room from me now at a Russo family gathering and I see her watching me, and when I catch her, she looks away with a blush. It's… endearing.

"Who is that?" she whispers to Carlotta.

"Oh my dear, that's Cage. Surely you've met him before?"

Sera tilts her head to the side. "I'm not sure."

Carlotta smiles and grabs Sera's hand. "Come, I'll introduce you."

Shit. My heart rate picks up and I realize I'm nervous. I can face down stone cold killers without blinking an eye, but this woman makes my hands sweat and heart beat faster. Yep. She's my one. She just doesn't know it yet…or maybe, with the looks she's giving me, she does.

Giovanni smiles as Carlotta and Serafina approach us.

"Stop fidgeting," Gio tells me, and I notice I'm flipping a nickel between my fingers. I haven't done that in… a very long time.

"Shit," I say under my breath and Gio chuckles.

"This should be interesting," he mutters.

And it is.

They walk up and Carlotta embraces me and kisses my cheek.

"Cage, it's so nice to see you again."

"You as well," I reply.

She steps back and places her hand on Sera's back, urging her forward.

"This is our granddaughter Serafina. Sera, this is Cage Nichols," Carlotta says by way of introduction.

Sera blushes a pretty pink and holds out her hand. I take hers gently between both of mine, engulfing them, holding them as the punch of attraction and awareness crackles around and through me—and from her reaction, I'd say through her as well.

She truly is my one. A smile tugs at the side of my mouth for the first time in forever, the feeling foreign. Carlotta notices and winks at me, while Giovanni's brows lift.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Serafina."

She pauses, her gaze locked on mine. "You as well, Mr. Nichols."

I shake my head. "Just Cage."

She nods. "And I'm Sera."

"Cage is a record producer," Carlotta informs Sera, but Sera just nods, her eyes locked on mine. It seems wrong to keep the fact that I'm part of
la Famiglia
from Sera and Lucy, and I ponder that thought as I stand here, still holding Sera's hand, relishing the feel of her warmth, her soft skin.

"Sera!" Lucy yells, hurrying toward us, breaking the spell. Sera pulls her hand from between mine and I immediately feel the loss… the emptiness.

"Hi Cage," Lucy greets. She's a friendly one. I only met her twenty minutes ago and it's as if we're long-lost friends.

I nod. "Lucy."

"Sera," Lucy whispers, "you have to come see this."

Sera looks to her grandparents for approval and they give it. She starts walking away, then stops and looks back at me over her shoulder.

"It was nice meeting you, Cage."

"You as well, Sera. I'll see you soon."

Her eyes widen then a smile slowly forms. "I've no doubt you will," she says before turning to follow Lucy out of the room.

"I knew it," Carlotta says.

"Carlotta," Giovanni scolds. "Don't go matchmaking."

She just laughs. "Oh, Gio, my love, don't you see? I don't even have to." She looks at me and laughs again. Carlotta places her hands on my cheeks. "You're perfect for her and she for you. Glorious," she announces and kisses my cheek.

Giovanni shakes his head and I feel… calm. I'd expect panic having Carlotta Russo tell me that Sera
really
is it for me, that there's no doubt of who I'm meant to be with. But there's none of it. Only acceptance and peace.

One day Serafina Manzini will be mine. I'm looking forward to that day.

"Did you hear that,
dude?" Xander asks for the third time. Apparently, no matter how hard I try to ignore him, the fucker's not going away.

I let out a groan and roll over, my hungover brain starting to pound.

"Hear what?"

"Ethan's chick just puked all over his bunk," Xander tells me.

"Not my problem. Where's Jerry? He's the fucking tour manager," I growl as my stomach churns.

"You fired him. Again. But he's on it," Xander tells me with a scoff. "I just thought you might want to know shit's gotten out of control man. Things need to change."

"Fuck," I mutter, sitting up, resting my feet on the floor, and fighting back the nausea. Hangovers are a bitch. I run my hands through my hair. "I know, I know."

"Either we get this shit straightened up or I'm walking after this tour."

I look at Xander, shock running through me. Never, in all the time I've known Xander, have I seen that look on his face.

"You were partying right along with us last night," I remind him.

He nods. "True that, but the chick I banged last night knew when to leave. You all need to remember the fucking rules." He pointedly looks at the occupied space next to me in my bed.

"I was so fucked up. I fucked her and barely got the condom in the trash before I passed out. I told her before we came in it was a fuck-and-run type thing."

"Then what's she still doing here?" Xander asks.

"Fuck, I just told you, Xan!" I shout, getting pissed. "I fucking passed out, all right? I needed a night off from playing everyone's fucking daddy."

"Except hers, right?" Xander sneers.

"Fuck you, man. You step up and take the lead if you don't like the way I'm handling things."

"Nah," he says. "I volunteered, remember? When we first formed the band. And you wanted it, so motherfucker you've got it. Start acting like our fucking leader and
lead
. These guys are losing it. They're gonna need rehab before long. Fuck, man, Ben was snorting lines with Lucian last night."

"I hate that fucker."

Xander shakes his head. "It's not on Lucian. He didn't force Ben to do any of that bullshit. He knows we don't
normally
do the hard stuff. Period. Alcohol and occasional weed, yeah—coke, crack, meth? Fuck no. So this is on your bro and you need to step the fuck up before it gets worse. We're going to be touring with these pricks for another three weeks, and either everyone cleans up their shit and remembers the rules we put in place for this very fucking reason, or I'm done."

I just stare at him.

"I mean it man."

"Yeah, I hear you. I hear you," I mutter and scrub my hands over my face. When did things get so out of control? We've been out on four different tours and nothing like this has ever happened before. Nowhere even close.

Xander closes the door behind him and I blow out a breath. Things are so fucked right now. Everyone's spiraling. Fuck.

The chick from last night rolls over onto her stomach.

Fuck it.

I grab a condom, fist my cock until it's hard, and slip it on. I don't bother with preparation or pretenses. She knows how it works and she stayed past her welcome, so now I’m gonna fuck her to blow off some steam and when I blow my load, she's gone.

I lift her hips and slam right into her. She groans and says something I can't make out.

"No talking," I tell her as I pound into her hard and fast, using her body that she's made available to me for just this purpose.

When she starts pushing back to meet my thrusts, I slam harder, feeling the burn of my orgasm coming on fast.

"Clench your pussy," I order and she does. Nice and tight now and I'm gonna blow. Faster, harder, and then I start to come, groaning as the tension in my body from all the fucked up shit going on in my life releases.
Yeah
, I think as I release another spurt of cum,
this is exactly what I needed.

When I'm done, I pull out and toss the condom in the trash.

"You could've at least waited until I came," she whines.

"Why would I want to do that? You overstayed your welcome. Get dressed and get out," I tell her flatly as I pull on my boxers and jeans.

"You're an asshole."

I nod. "I never said otherwise."

"I thought since you let me stay the night, you'd—"

"Whoa, whoa. Back up," I begin. "I didn't
let
you stay the night. I fucking passed out and you didn't leave like I told you to."

"You know we were good together," she coos.

I want to laugh. "Listen. You wanted to fuck me, you got that. You didn't listen and leave so I took my bonus. It's done, it's over. Get the fuck out."

"Don't you want my number?" she asks, pulling on her shoes.

"Nah."

"But it was so good."

"For you."

"What?" she asks, her eyes wide with surprise.

"It was good for you. For me it was just all right." I shrug.

"You really are an asshole."

"Yep," I say, rocking back on my heels, hands in the front pockets of my jeans.

She grabs her purse. "Next time—"

I shake my head. "Nope. See ya."

I can all-but see the steam rising out of her ears. She stomps on her cheap knock-off heels. Not sure what I'd been thinking with that one.

I scratch my chest. Oh yeah. She blew me at the after party. At least her mouth had good suction. Her pussy was used and abused, but it served its purpose.

I grab a shirt from the pile of clothes in the corner and sniff it. Not too bad. I slip it over my head and walk into the main part of the bus. Jerry's standing there looking severely pissed off and I can't blame the guy. We're a fucking wreck right now. I just hope I can figure out a way to get us all back on track before it's too late—if it isn't already.