We drove in silence for a while, as I stared out at nothing in particular. Then he said, “I never knew my father. He was separated when he started dating my mother, but by the time Mom realized she was pregnant, he’d gone back to his wife and kids. She got in touch with him to let him know he was going to have a son, and he returned to Vegas one last time to see her. He gave her a hundred grand in lieu of child support, which she used as a down payment on the building that houses her bar. He also left her with something to give to me when I turned eighteen, but he never came to see me after I was born. Then he was killed when I was four.”
I turned to look at him. “Please don’t tell me the gift he left for you was that Rolex.”
“It was.”
I’d been wondering why he was opening up to me, but now I got it—that story was meant to make me feel guilty, and it worked. In fact, I felt like absolute shit. “I’m so sorry, Adriano. I didn’t know.”
“Remember what I said that night, when I came upstairs and realized you’d taken the watch?”
“You said something along the lines of ‘anything but that.’ It’s a bit of a blur, since I was in a state of panic.”
“I did say that. I also told you I’d give you money if you needed it. That offer still stands. The watch is priceless to me, but its resale value is probably fifty thousand dollars. I’ll give you that amount in cash if you return it to me when we get back to San Francisco.”
“That’s not necessary. I already told you I planned to give it back.”
“I know what you said, but come on. It’s more likely for a thousand monkeys to come flying out of my ass than for that to be true.”
“Thanks ever so much for that visual.” Why was I even bothering to explain myself? He didn’t believe anything I said, and really, why would he? This whole situation was completely hopeless. I glanced at him one more time and asked, “How long do you suppose we’ll be in Las Vegas?”
“My best guess? Somewhere between two days and two months.”
I muttered, “Fucking awesome,” and turned my head to stare at nothing some more. I really needed to escape as soon as possible and run far, far away from Adriano Dombruso.
8
Adriano
Jack fell asleep maybe an hour into our drive, which left me alone with my thoughts. This wasn’t a good thing, because my mind was reeling.
The fact that I was doubting myself was a real problem. I was someone who usually moved through life with a lot of swagger and confidence. It was a requirement in my line of work. To call the people who frequented my poker games a tough crowd was putting it mildly, and the only way to maintain control was to get everyone to believe you were even tougher.
It helped that my mom had given me my father’s last name. There was a time when the Dombruso crime family had ruled the west coast. They were the stuff of legend, and nobody dared cross them. The name still carried weight with the old timers, but the problem was, every year saw a new crop of young upstarts, out to make their mark in the criminal underworld. They played by their own rules and respected nothing and no one.
Mario Greco was one of these men. He was fearless, hungry, and impatient, and he wanted to make a name for himselfnow, without paying his dues like the rest of us had. Unfortunately, he had a lot of money, which put limitless resources at his disposal. Where I could afford to hire ten men as my enforcers, he could hire thirty. And instead of building an enterprise for himself from the ground-up the way I had, he preferred the shortcut of trying to step in and take what others had made.
Okay, yes, I’d had an advantage when I was first starting out. Almost twenty years ago, when I was an ambitious kid right out of high school, the Dombruso name gave me credibility. It also meant most people weren’t willing to fuck with me, for fear of incurring the wrath of the Dombruso family.
Even so, I’d gotten where I was through hard work, patience, and perseverance. The Dombrusos didn’t even know I existed, which meant they didn’t have my back like everyone assumed.
As far as I knew, my dad had taken the secret of his bastard son to his grave. In fact, after he and his wife reconciled, he seemed to forget all about me. They had more kids and had probably been very happy together—until both of their lives were cut short during a home invasion by a rival crime family.
But I still had the name, even though it clearly didn’t mean what it used to. If it carried any weight, I probably wouldn’t be dealing with Greco right now, and he was a real problem. He was violent and unpredictable, and he’d crossed a line by trashing my mom’s place of business.
I’d always gone to great lengths to keep my personal and professional lives totally separate. In fact, most people didn’t even know I had a mom and a kid brother in Vegas. So, I really had to wonder how Greco had managed to find out about the bar, which was right downstairs from my mom’s apartment.
What the hell was I supposed to do about this? Greco was a loose cannon, and there was no reasoning with him. I’d tried repeatedly before deciding to step back and spend some time away from Las Vegas. I’d even temporarily shut down my business, thinking that would help defuse the situation. But he was still coming for me, in the worst possible way—by involving the people I loved.
So now, I was heading back into a hornet’s nest with no plan whatsoever, and to make matters worse, I was doing it with Jack in tow. I glanced at him, sound asleep in his blanket cocoon. Dragging him to Vegas with me was such a terrible idea, but what else was I supposed to do? It wasn’t like he would’ve waited around for me to return.
I glanced at him again. He was a stunningly beautiful man, and I couldn’t deny I was still wildly attracted to him.
But right now, that was really just a distraction. Plus, there was no way anything could develop between us, because I didn’t trust him. He’d said all the right things earlier, but I felt stupid for believing a single word that came out of his mouth.
And what, like he’d want to date me? I currently had him chained to a car door, and I was dragging him across state lines against his will. Even though he was being cooperative, what choice did he have? He probably thought I’d shoot him if he didn’t play nice. There was no doubt in my mind that if he found a way to escape, that’d be the last I ever saw of him.
The blanket slipped off his shoulders just then, and I pulled it up and tucked him back in. Then I sighed and muttered, “What the hell are you doing, Adriano?” Nothing good could come from caring about Jack Granger…or whatever his name was.
* * *