Pursue (Portland Street Kings Book 3) (19 page)

William and I take a seat in the living room, me on the recliner and him on the sectional. He takes off his jacket and rests it on the back of the sofa, undoing his gold cufflinks before rolling his sleeves up a bit.
 

Neither of us say anything at first. It’s hard to think of which question to ask; there’s so much to talk about. He begins telling me about his brothers. He says they all look alike, well as close as three brothers can who aren’t triplets. I laugh at the comment but then I wonder what was funny about it.
My nerves are getting the better of me.
 

Abruptly, William remembers something and pulls some pictures out of his back pocket. He hands me one the photos and I know straight away it’s of him and his brothers. He points at a man with dark hair like his.
 
Matthew. He points to the other man, Alexander. He has light brown hair with blond highlights.
 

He hands me another picture and all the air seems to disappear from my lungs. It’s her.
My mother. I look just like her.
 

“You look just like her,” William says and smiles as if reading my mind.
 

“What was she like?” I ask softly.
 

Will stares off into the distance when he answers me. “She was wonderful. Kind, generous, and she’d do anything for her children.”
 

I frown. “Why didn’t she ever come looking for me?”

Turning to face me, William gazes at me with sadness and sincerity in his eyes. “My father forbid it. He’d told her you went to a good family and that’s all my mother was allowed to know. She searched for you once, and my father found out. He threatened me and my brothers as punishment if she ever did it again.”
 

“Why didn’t
he
want me?” It felt wrong to call him "your father" or mine, and I haven’t wanted to utter his name since I’d heard what he’d done to me as a child.
 

William winces at my words. He doesn’t try to hide it. Before speaking, it’s as if memories flood his mind and his lip tips up into a snarl.

“My father thought women were weak. He treated them as if they were the dirt under his shoe. He was furious when he learned he’d sired a daughter. When my father showed his disdain for my mother for having a daughter and for you, she moved you both out to the guesthouse where you stayed until you were five. I was fourteen when my mother came into the house screaming that you’d been taken. Matt was twelve and Alex was ten. She was distraught and cried every day for months. My father had told her right away that he’d sent you away. He said it was to a good family and for a little while, my mother tried to accept that, thinking that you’d be with two parents who would love you equally. But within a year, she started searching for you and that’s when my father found out. He always had connections and people around him who spied. He was paranoid thinking people were always after him. Obviously, they were because he was a fucking evil bastard.” William growls his last words, his body tense and hands fisted in front of him. The hatred he harbors for the man who gave him life is palpable, possibly stronger than my own.

“Did he treat you and your brothers differently?” I ask curiously.
 

William looks away, but not before I see the pain in his eyes. “He groomed us to be just like him.” I’m not sure what he means. However, it seems the question and the memories are too painful for William, so I just wait and see if he elaborates further. He doesn’t. Instead, he turns around and changes the conversation back to me. “Tell me about you. Where did you grow up?”
 

For a second I wonder if I should spare him the same agony he was obviously just trying to spare me. But how else could I explain my childhood other than terrifying and abusive. I tell him everything. Stopping once when his face grows pale, I ask, “I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?”
 

He covers his mouth with his hand, seeming as if he might be sick, but he shakes his head and gestures for me to continue. I hesitate when I reach Jae, but remember he already knows Lucini is after me; he may as well know why. At one point, William stands but asks me to continue. He paces the room until I finish with me leaving the hospital with Dom two weeks ago. William looks at me and says, “Our father is dead. My brothers and I had a choice. We chose mercy and a quick death. Had we known all of this we would have chosen differently.”
 

The depth of regret and anger his voice holds moves me. If I didn’t know who was talking, I’d have thought it was one of my brothers speaking.
 

We move on and Will tells me about our mom—her quirks, her fears and when she died. It was five years ago, by Michael, my father.
How can one man leave such destruction in his wake?
 

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” William asks and there is one thing I’ve always wondered.

“When's my birthday?”
 

His lips tilt up into a sweet smile. “February twentieth.”
 

I jump up from the recliner. “I’m already twenty-seven.” My voice rises in pitch to an almost squeal.
 

William's expression goes from beaming happily to serious quickly. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
 

My excited glow disappears from hearing William’s ominous words, but before Will can speak, we hear cars pull up out the front and they don’t sound like the familiar rumble my brothers' cars make.
 

Looking out the window and seeing two black SUVs parked and stopped in the middle of the road, my brows furrow.
Why does it look like a scene from a movie where the CIA has pulled up out the front of my house?

Chapter Twenty-One

Della

“That stupid fucking bastard,” William growls.
 

“What’s going on?”
 

Hearing loud footsteps running down the hall, I turn and observe Dom running toward me. He sees the confused look on my face and answers my question for Will. “Lucini’s here and he’s not alone.”
 

I notice Lana standing just behind Dom; her eyes widen for only a second, and then they narrow as if with purpose. She races up the stairs the fastest I’ve ever seen her move before.
 

“Why the hell is Lucini at my house?” I ask sternly, glancing between Dom and William.

“Lana!”
 

I hear Mack yelling through the house; he appears in the living room and I point upstairs to answer his question. He takes three steps at a time, going as fast as Lana was.
What is going on with those two?

“
Della,” William says to grab my attention. “What I was just about to tell you is Lucini arrived in Portland through the night. My best guess is he’s here thinking he can grab you and hold you until my brothers and I complete the deal.”

Slater and Kelso run into the living room, both staring out the window. I do the same and my heart chills when I see three men from each car get out with handguns, some holding two, all of them dressed normally, in everyday clothes, none hiding their identities.

“I thought the deal was as good as done?” I challenge, frustrated and teetering on the edge of terror that my family and the man I love could be about to get hurt. There is no way they or Dom are going to hand me over to Lucini.

“It was, but the bastard is a stupid motherfucker and the moment he stepped foot in the same state you’re in, he set in motion his own death.”

“Lana!”
 

Abruptly, we all swing our gazes at the ceiling when we hear Mackson's frantic voice, and it’s quickly followed by a loud pounding sound upstairs.
 

“What the fuck is happening up there?” Slater asks, but he doesn’t seem to expect an answer from any of us. “Kel, run up and see what the hell is going on.” Kelso races up the stairs as Pacer is running down them, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

I shift my focus to the front again. I’m counting the men, but William beats me to it. “Six men and ten handguns and I can promise you Lucini is in one of those cars, but he won’t be armed. He’s too cocky to think he won’t be able to get away before all of his men are dead.”
 

“Do we even own guns?” I ask high-pitched, my hands shaking.
 

Dom takes a hold of my hands in his, turning me to face him. “Breathe, baby, everything is going to be okay. Lucini isn’t going to get anywhere near you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I state in a trembling voice, peering to my brothers and then back to Dom so he can understand what I mean.

“We have guns,” Slater announces. “There’re locked upstairs in a box under my bed. Dom and William, take Della upstairs to her room. It’s the furthest from this side of the house. Pacer, come with me, we’ll—”

“No.” My voice comes out shaky. “If Lucini just wants me until the deal is done, then let him have me.” I look to William. “How long would it take, a few hours?”
 

“No!” Dom almost shouts.
 

“I’m not handing you over, even if it was only an hour. Lucini is not a man of his word. I wouldn’t trust the fucker with my pet snake,” William says and turns to Slater. “And I’m not hiding. I’ll stay down here. Give me a gun. I can shoot. My aim is almost perfect.”
 

Slater nods at Will and turns to me, his jaw clenched. “Dell, we have rifles and they have handguns. We’ll be fine. Later we’re going to sit down and have a talk about you ever thinking I’d fucking hand you over to a madman.”
 

Powerful footsteps are heard coming down the stairs, and a breathless Kelso appears in the middle of us all but only facing Slater. “Lana has locked herself in your bedroom. Mack said she knows the combination to the gun box, and he thinks she’s going to try and kill Lucini from your bedroom window.
 
She wants revenge for Rex.”
   

“Can she shoot?” Will asks.

“Mack says she can but if she misses and Lucini sees it’s her who took a shot at him, she’s on a hit list for life, no matter what deals we try to strike.”
 

“No one will know. I have a plan in place already. Even if Lucini and his men make it to his plane, he’s never making it back to New York alive,” William states and everyone turns to him with similar gaping surprised looks.
 

“Lana!”
 

“Shit. Mack is freaking the fuck out,” Kelso states.
 

“He’s getting out,” Dom declares, and we all turn our stares to the open door of the first car and wait with bated breath for what happens next.
 

Lucini unfolds himself from the black SUV. He’s a short man with a large protruding stomach which is covered in an expensive gray suit. The gold on his fingers shimmers brightly in the sunlight. He’s wearing a wide-brim hat and sunglasses. All that can be seen of his face is a short white beard.
 

“How stupid is this man to pull up at our house with armed men and get out of his car dressed as if he’s going to a fancy restaurant and think we wouldn’t just blow him immediately away?” Pacer expresses what we’re all thinking.
 

“Lucini’s cocky. He thinks anyone would fall down to their knees at the mere mention of his name. It’s why he always loses, why he’s always lost against my father. Frank Lucini may be the mafia king, but he’s always failed at conquering in the big leagues. He has all his minions working for him accomplishing the little things: drug runs, blackmail, and acquiring law enforcement to protect him. But when it comes to real strategy, playing with the big boys, Lucini has always fallen short, just like he will today. And this time it will be for good.”

 
A gunshot goes off and Lucini rears back, his hat and sunglasses fall off as he crumples to the ground, his right hand grasping at his shoulder. His men run around wildly, circling him, trying to protect him and spot where the shot came from. Another gunshot goes off and this time, it hits one of the men standing in front of Lucini. The man hops on one foot, screaming in pain as he falls to the ground.
 

Franks' men start firing upwards, now realizing the shots are coming from the second floor of the house. We all get down. Dom covers my body with his.
 

Glass shatters, but not around us. We hear an explosive roar from Mack and then what I think is him finally breaking through Slater's bedroom door.

When there are no more gunshots, we peek up and out through the window. Lucini’s men are dragging him back into the first SUV.
 

“Are they leaving?” I ask, amazement in my voice.
 

“Yes,” Slater answers me. “What a coward. One shot to the shoulder and he calls for a retreat.”
 

The first SUV takes off, not even waiting for the second as two men drag the man with the bullet in his leg to their vehicle. The car takes off at a dangerous speed, the wheels spinning and it swerves all over the road until it’s out of view and we can’t see it any longer.
 

“Oh my gosh,” I breathe out.
 

The sound of squealing tires and a thundering crash with what sounds like glass shattering has us all racing out the front door. When I reach the porch, I’m picked up around the waist and stopped. I glimpse over my shoulder to find Dom holding me. “You will wait here while your brothers check it out,” he says firmly.
 

Pressing my lips together, frustrated, I fold my arms over my chest as Dom slowly drops me to my feet and kisses my neck. “Thank you,” he whispers.
 

Anxiously watching my brothers, I wait for them to turn around and tell me what happened. I hear the distinct sound of a car squealing again and wheels spinning as it takes off. “Did they hit a tree or something and now they’re trying for a second getaway?” I giggle.
 

“I hope they make it to the plane,” Dom says with an intense and deep, gravelly voice, his tone tinged with hate and anger.