His strong, capable arms wrap around me and lift me off my feet. “You’d think I’d been off to war with that kind of greeting.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “I love it.”
“Are you okay? What happened? What’s going on? Did you talk to the cops?”
As soon as the wordcopsis out of my mouth, Cannon stiffens.
“What about the cops? Have they been here?”
I shake my head. “No, but Benny thought you might be meeting them at the club.”
Cannon puts me on my feet and turns to face the old man, who’s still sitting at the table with a chunk of garlic bread on his plate.
“What the fuck, Benny? What do you know that I don’t?”
The older man tilts his head to one side and stares down Cannon. “Probably know you better than you know yourself. You ain’t no mobster. You don’t do wet work. You’re not walking up to Giancarlo’s door and putting a bullet in his head. I know you, kid. You’re working on a plan that keeps your hands clean and takes care of business at the same time.”
“Is he right?” I ask, hope coloring my tone.
Cannon’s gaze cuts from Benny to me and back again. “I’m looking at all our options.”
“How’s Dom?” Grice asks from the sink where he and Tanya are doing dishes. I offered, but the two seemed to work better as a team.
“Recovering. He has to keep his stress level low. No getting worked up over anything, which means thatno matter what you fucking hear, you tell him nothing.” Cannon’s gaze travels from one person in the room to the next. “Does everyone in this room hear me? Because if I find out that someone leaked information to him before this is done, whatever happens to Dom is onyourhead.”
Everyone murmurs in somber agreement except Cav. He chuckles from the doorway where Greer leans against him.
“What?” Cannon snaps at his half brother.
“You sound like the old man. Probably more than you ever have before. So, big brother, you going to fill us in on what the fuck is going on? Because I’m down to help. Whatever you need.”
Greer whips her head around to look at her husband, a protest clearly dying to jump from her lips. But when she sees his face, she only says, “Are you sure about this? Because you’re not Dom’s errand boy anymore, and you have a hell of a lot to lose now.”
“I’ve still got Casso blood running through my veins, and I’m not going to let those fucking Rossettis gun down another person we care about. They fucking shot at you. My sister. My brothers. My family. I can’t let that go.”
Like Greer finally sees the toll it’s taken on the love of her life, she begins to comfort him. “Cav—”
“We’re not killing anyone,” Cannon says. “I did meet with the cops. Well, one cop. Clinton Cole.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Benny asks.
“We need every single thing Dom has on them. Pictures. Wiretaps. Evidence. Every goddamned thing. We’re putting together a case for the DA that’s airtight.”
“And you really think that shit is going to stick?” Benny says.
Cannon pulls me tighter against his side. “He’s also got a man on the inside, and together with whatever they’ve got, we’re taking down the whole fucking Rossetti family.”
35
Cannon
Ican tell Benny’s skeptical about my plan, but I don’t fucking care. It’s not his decision. Before I leave the kitchen, I extract a promise from him that he won’t go to Dom to tell him anything. Making him swear on the life of his granddaughter might be a little extreme, but my mob roots are showing.
If Dom got word of what I was planning, there’s no way in hell he’d let it happen. Cooperating with the cops, especially bringing one into the club, is probably enough to get him to shoot me in the damn head, but I don’t care. Like I told him, I’m handling this my way.
But before I ransack Dom’s office to find everything he has on the Rossettis and deliver it to Cole, I need some time with Memphis.Alone.I didn’t see her text until I was on my way here, and decided that it would be easier to tell her everything in person. Because she’smyperson.
Memphis is the reason I’m doing all of this. She has no idea that if she hadn’t walked into my life, I might be taking a different path right now. You don’t grow up in the mob without knowing what you’re capable of, and if I had to step into Dom’s shoes to mete out justice for the insult that they served us—especially if they’d killed my friends and family and not just wounded them—I could do it.
Dom may not realize it, but my brain works a hell of a lot like his. I can pretty much imagine exactly what he wants to do right now, and I’m not going to let it happen. The potential for collateral damage is too high.