The Absolution of Aidan (The Syndicate Series Book 3) (18 page)

“You’re staring.” He’s throwing my words from earlier today back in my face. We could play cat and mouse games for the rest of our lives, tossing each other’s phrases back and forth, and still, I would never be able to figure out which one of us is the cat and which is the mouse.

I take my eyes away from his growing cock to look up into his penetrating gaze. He’s so damn beautiful. God, I think I’m falling. Hopelessly. Deeply. Crazily in love.

“Would I be an asshole if I said I wanted to tell you about the things I’ve learned today?” Unable to speak, I shake my head attentively. I watch him leave the room, my eyes trained to his ass. Once he’s no longer in my sight, I immerse every part of my body under the water. The woman part of me wants to drown in him, bring him back here, and ride him until he forgets about the crap they’ve sucked him into.

Oh hell. Will the two of us ever be normal? Probably not.

AIDAN

My phone alerts me of an incoming text right before I step into the shower. Ignoring it, I lean my head back, letting the hot spray pound on my back. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do a damn thing to relieve the tension surging through my veins.

You would think I would be able to substitute the hold Deidre has on me, the deep sensations pulsing my once unattainable heart that only she seems to be able to capture.

Our relationship can only be described as untraditional. And yet, it works. She crawled under my skin the minute I met her. Left her mark. And fuck me if she didn’t leave it there permanently, especially after last night.

I’m not talking about the incredible sex we had. The way her tight ass felt around my cock. The way she took me in her mouth in the bath after I told her everything I learned yesterday. I’m talking about her. Just her.

When she told me we would get through this together, I damn near told her I loved her right then. How in the hell can a woman who has been through what she has endured come back stronger than before? I’m sure part of it is her therapy. The biggest part of it is, though, I know she cares for me as much as I do for her. I can see it in her eyes. I can feel it bleeding out of her whenever she looks at me. Whenever she touches me, kisses me. It’s in everything she does.

We talked until the water became too cold for us to sit in anymore. My long legs were so damn cramped. I didn’t care, because I had my woman in my arms, who listened, who helped me derive a plan to find that leech of a human, Ryan.

She helped me release the guilt I felt for taking a week off to get to know our son. Guilt that has been clawing away at me ever since I saw what that motherfucker did to Grace. I should have gone the moment they asked me to kill her. Then he would have never hurt her. He’ll be sorry when I find him. I’ll show him what it feels like to have your ass fucking beat. To be scared. Fucking pitiful excuse for a man.

Deep down, I know this shit isn’t my fault. I had strict orders from Salvatore to take time off, to let him handle it. And I did. I didn’t fight him on it, and I should have. If I had gone looking for Anna and Grace the minute I found out about them, then that fuckhead would have never laid his hands on her. Any man who puts a fist to a woman deserves the same goddamn thing, only worse.

Now, a week later, I want to kill him. To fuck him up so bad he’s begging me to take his coward life.

“Fuck,” I sneer when I hear my phone ding again. I hustle and clean myself up, shut off the water, dry off, and wrap the towel around my waist.

Glancing down at my phone, I shrug, blowing it off, knowing damn well it’s either Cain or Roan wanting to know if I will meet to work out. I’ve skipped meeting them for the past week for our workouts. But I decide right then and there that hitting the gym is exactly what I need. I bust my ass to finish getting ready, throw on a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt, and grab my clothes for the day, stuffing them in a duffle bag. Then I sit on the edge of the bed to put on my shoes.

“Hold your goddamn horses,” I yell at my phone when it goes off again.

I snatch it from the bed and unlock the screen. “Who the fuck is this?” I say when I start to scroll through several texts from an unknown number.

You think you’ve won? You low life piece of fucking shit.

Let me tell you something, you bastard, that’s right, you are

a bastard. I know it and you know it and so does our mom.

You fucked with the wrong guy, motherfucker.

“Fucking Ryan.”

I scroll down to the next text. My hands are shaking, but not out of fear. I want to kill him.

Where the fuck are they?

If you think I’m scared of you or the scum you associate with,

then you’re more fucked up in the head than I thought.

I will find them.

I run my hands through my hair. The urge to throw my phone across the room, to pound into Ryan’s flesh over and over, takes every goddamn nerve in my body. I jolt when the phone vibrates in my hand again.

One more thing.

Stay the fuck out of my business,

Unless you want me to come after your son and his whore of a mother!

Fear claws into my throat. My fucking heart is pounding. The enormity of how serious this irrational son of a bitch is strikes me right in the center of my chest. Who in the fuck would threaten a baby and a woman? A sick fucker, that’s who! He wants to bring my family into this, wants to pressure me to back off over a goddamn text. He has no idea what kind of monster he has now created in me. I will kill for both of them. They’re mine.

He’s leaving me with only one thing to do. Two actually. The first one is to call Salvatore and give him the go ahead to find this piece of shit and call for the hit to kill him.

The second is to call my cunt of a mother, to feel her ass out, make sure she really doesn’t know what her son is doing while she’s off with god knows who on a damn vacation. For once in her pitiful life, she better step the fuck up and be my mother. If she doesn’t, I may turn into that cold-hearted bastard she’s called me my entire life.

I’m done protecting her from her own threat.

“Mother. Fucker.”

“Aidan, what is it?” Deidre’s worried voice echoes down the hall.

Goddamn it. This is the last thing she needs to know about. She may be strong, but this, it would send her back to a place I know she never wants to be again. She can never know that somehow Ryan knows about our son. No fucking way.

“Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about,” I lie. I turn around to see her and my boy standing there. Her face is showing her worry. She still steals my breath with her beauty, her vitality to prove to herself how good of a mother she is. The irony of it all is that, right here in this very moment, I know I’m in love with her. God, I fucking love her. But I’m nowhere in the right state of mind to tell her that. She deserves my undivided attention when I do. She deserves every part of me she believes in. All of the self-worth she’s pulled out of me just by her very existence.

“You sure?” she questions.

“I’m sure, baby. Bullshit from work. Now, let me have him so you can shower and get ready for your day with Alina.” I reach out and pluck my son from her arms.

“Okay,” she retorts tensely. I know her too well. She’s not buying it. But I’m not giving her any more than that. Her feisty little attitude along with her need to protect will rear its head. I move around her and walk out of the room. The minute I hear the bathroom door close and the shower turn on, I call Jackson. I need him here now.

Then I text words I’ve wanted to say to him in person. My fingers are moving furiously across the screen, adding all capital letters. The little prick.

YOU’RE GOING TO DIE, JUST LIKE YOUR FRIEND. ONLY A PUSSY WOULD SEND SOMEONE TO DO HIS WORK. BUT THEN AGAIN, YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN ONE.

When Deirde is ready, I kiss the two of them goodbye, thankful Deidre is spending the day with Alina, then grab my bag and make my way out the door. Deidre didn’t mention her concern again, but I saw it in her face, heard it in her shaky voice, felt it in the way she clung to me a little longer than she normally does. It’s not like her to keep her mouth shut. No one knows this better than I do. I can only hope she believed me. “Goddamn it,” I curse under my breath. This is splitting me apart, keeping this from her. She would really break down if she knew Diesel was being threatened. She’s come so far, all for the sake of our son. For her to lose it now would take her away from him and from me. I won’t allow it to happen.

Pinching the bridge of my nose when I enter the elevator, I realize now that reality is facing me dead on. I stand and watch the floors decrease until I hit the lobby. Like a mad man on a mission, I haul ass through the lobby and hit the door for the underground parking garage. I find my bike, strap my bag down, and straddle the bad bitch. My hands move over the handlebars, the muscles in my entire body clenching to feel the rumble of this bike.

Once she purrs to life, the adrenaline shoots through me like a rocket. I flip my visor down on my helmet, shoot out of the parking lot, and make my way to the apartment building we all live in.

Free, that’s how I usually feel when I’m on my bike. Not today. Today I feel like someone is following me, watching my every move. My eyes flit continuously between the road and the rearview mirror. Fuck all if I know if someone is on my ass or not. This traffic sucks. I weave around cars, horns honking at me left and right. Fuck them all. The only thing I care about right now is making him pay. Making him pay for threatening my son.

“Jesus Mother Fucking Christ,” Cain screeches from across the gym as I lay into the punching bag like it’s Ryan’s fucking face. How I wish to god it were. “Brother, what the hell?” Roan stops the bag mid-punch.

My arms burn, my fists sting, and I want more. I want so much more.

I made the call to Salvatore to take the little prick out once they find him. My gut wrenches like a bolt twisted too tight. For the first time in my life, I feel sick, and now there’s fuck all I can do about it. Let it ride out. Let him fucking rot right next to his father who made him into the spineless fucker he is today.

“Fuck.” Untying the gloves from my hands, I yank them off and toss them to the ground.

My hands go to my hair, pulling tightly. I begin to pace. Turning toward my friends, I let it all out. I tell them everything about the text messages, pleading with my eyes for them to give me an answer on whether I jumped the gun or made the right decision. My heart is telling me I did the right thing, while my head is calling me out. Berating me. Taunting me.

When I look Roan in the eye, my head listens before he even speaks. It’s right there in the man’s expression. He knows. He gets it. Hell, he lived it.

“This is the life we choose to lead, man. I get it. It sucks. Family isn’t about blood. Even though in both of our cases, it is or it was. The bottom line is, we protect those we love, those who return our love. I would have done the same thing. Hell, I almost killed my own brother. Any man who threatens an innocent child doesn’t deserve to live. He deserves to rot in fucking hell. That’s your family you’re protecting. As long as you remember that, then that’s all that should matter here.”

“You’re a better man than I am,” Cain clasps my shoulder. “If someone were to threaten my daughter or my wife, I’d kill them myself.”

“What about your mom?” My head jerks toward Roan at the mention of her. I haven’t called her yet. I needed to beat this guilt out of my system first.

“I’m hoping what your dad told me is correct, that she doesn’t know a damn thing.” I move and sit down on the floor, bracing my knees in front of me, and my throbbing hands on the floor.

“My dad’s thorough, Aidan, he doesn’t fuck shit up. You know this. If he said she doesn’t know, then she doesn’t.” His words are clipped and tight. Straight to the point. Neither one of these men have steered me wrong in all the years I’ve known them. Why I am now having a hard time believing anything anyone tells me beats the hell out of me.

“We’re your family, Aidan. Including Salvatore. Children are a no go and you know it. I mean, shit, look at the chick who lead us to Royal last year. Both Salvatore and Ivan could have had her killed. They didn’t. And do you know why?” Cain probes then turns around and answers his own question.

“Because she didn’t know shit. She was an addict. Got caught up with the wrong person. Now that young girl is clean, going to school to become a counselor for drug addicts. He would never lie to you. I know your mom is a conniving bitch. But something else is going on here, brother. You need to find out, no, I take that back,
we
need to find out what the hell it is.”

He’s fucking right. Both of them are right. It’s hard to imagine my mother would have anything to do with this at all. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact she even showed up at my place and asked me to kill two women. Unless she was forced to. Cain’s words light a spark under my ass. I hop onto my feet rapidly and head straight for my phone, ignoring my two friends yelling at me like I’m going insane.

“I’m good.” I spin around with my phone in my hand, confronting them.

“I need to make a call.” Silently, I thank them for being the brothers I need. For always having my back, seeking both of their eyes out individually. They simply nod in return. There’s nothing more to be said. We all know how much we care about each other.

I hesitate and collect my thoughts before hitting her number, praying she still has the same one from all those years ago. Standing outside the gym, I brace myself for whatever names she’s going to throw at me this time. I stopped caring a long time ago about the shit she says about me. Just like I stopped caring about her.

“Hello.” Christ. Her pitch is so high, fake, and sugary sweet I’m about to go deaf.

“Hello, Alexis.” God, how I despise this woman. If she has one tiny morsel of love in her bogus, phony body, she will step up now. Prove that she isn’t the female version of Lucifer himself. Hateful, bitter bitch.