Jake’s Angel (King’s Of Fury MC #2)

Chapter 50

CHAPTER FIFTY

JAKE

It’s been almost four months since Avery was released from the hospital. I was so excited to get her out of that dreary place and back to our house where she belonged. After we rid the world of Kyle Whittmore, Gabe gave his blessing, and I officially claimed Avery as mine in church. Of course, the guys agreed and with a unanimous vote.

The women talked Gabe into throwing Avery a real welcome home party, but decided to wait until she was healed enough that she could enjoy the festivities. Despite still having a few months of physical therapy ahead, she has made significant improvements. But the doctor said she could resume regular activities as tolerated so long as she doesn’t overdo it.

I dropped her off this afternoon at the studio she and Skyler now own together. Avery’s always wanted to own her own studio and teach little kids to dance. Ethan presented the idea to the club to partner Avery and Skyler together in the business. Skyler having a background in choreographing shows and dancing herself, combined with Avery’s teaching experience, just made sense.

The two women jumped at the chance to work together.

We found a building in town equal distance from the tattoo shop and Ethan’s gym. Gabe and Russell came together to finance the purchase of the building and made it a point to put lights and security in every corner.

The two women have been working tirelessly to get the studio ready to open next month. Hiring crews to install special flooring and mirrors. Building lockers and storage for the students and staff. They even installed poles in one room to teach the art of striptease and burlesque to adults who want to learn.

Pres called church for this afternoon, so I’ve asked Skyler to bring Avery with her to the clubhouse for the party.

We’re all at the clubhouse waiting for Pres to call church into session. I’d be lying if I said I’m hoping church lets out quick so I can see my woman. It’s only been a few hours since I’ve touched her, but the feel of her body near mine is something I’ve come to crave.

Gabe is across the room, apparently arguing with Liz. Caleb is standing behind Liz, smiling at Gabe over his wife’s shoulder. Gabe looks frustrated, while Liz is full of her usual fire and sass.

“Pres,” Colt calls from behind the bar. Pres pauses his conversation to see what’s up. “Mr. Parisi is at the gate asking to see you.”

Gabe drops his head. I don’t blame him. Vincenzo never comes with good news and doesn’t care if his delivery is respectful or not.

“Let him in,” Gabe replies. “We’ll have church after he leaves.”

We all gather around closer, waiting to hear why Vincenzo is here. He comes strolling through the clubhouse doors, with Matteo and Santiago flanking him as he walks up to the bar and orders the prospect to pour him a whiskey on the rocks.

Colt looks to Gabe for permission. With an exaggerated sigh, Gabe gives the go ahead.

Vincenzo takes the whiskey and saunters into the room further, joining the rest of us.

“Gabriel.”

“Vincenzo.”

Vincenzo smiles at Gabe’s terse response.

“How have things been? Everyone healthy?” Gabe’s eyes narrow at Vincenzo’s question.

“Should they not be?”

Vincenzo smiles around his whiskey glass. He takes a long pull, then says, “Perhaps some more so than others. How is our mutual friend?”

“He’s not my friend. He’s a traitor. And he’s club business.”

“Hmm.” Vincenzo puts his hand in his pocket. “Perhaps we should have a chat in the sanctuary, as you call it.” It’s not a question. “We have some things to discuss, privately.”

Sadie and Jayde have just come through the clubhouse doors. Their conversation halts the minute they see Vincenzo standing in the middle of the room.

“Miss Jenkins. Miss Mackenzie. Good to see you both,” he greets, raising his glass in their direction.

“Mr. Parisi. What a surprise. Are you here for Avery’s welcome home party?” Sadie asks.

“No.” Gabe and Pop reply in unison. Pop’s been working here in town more since Avery’s incident. Russell moved to a farm home on a large spread of land, conducting business from his home office as much as possible, not wanting to be away from Avery. Mom says she thinks he’s feeling guilty for not knowing what Eleanor had been doing to Avery and wants to stay close now to help protect her.

I don’t know how I feel about the man myself. Part of me wants to kill him for allowing the shit that happened right under his nose—under his roof. But the other part of me, the part Avery says I need to listen to more often, wants to believe he’s genuinely pissed and remorseful for those things and he loves her. So long as he doesn’t hurt my Angel, I’ll leave them to figure their shit out.

“Thank you for the invite, Miss Jenkins. I’d love to stay and welcome Avery to the town properly.” Vincenzo looks pleased with himself for the growl he elicits from both Gabe and Pop.

“Let’s go get this shit over with,” Gabe grumbles. “Officers only. The rest of you get this place ready for my daughter’s party,” He shoots a glare at Liz. “Whatever Liz wants, just fucking do it so I don’t have to listen to her bitch later.”

Liz looks pleased with herself. Caleb kisses the top of her head and follows the rest of us into the sanctuary.

“Close the door.” Parisi tells Ethan as he strolls in last.

Gabe takes a seat at the head of the table with Vincenzo sitting opposite him at the far end. His men standing on each side of him while Pop and Declan do the same for Pres.

“You know, this is becoming a habit for you. Coming into my clubhouse unannounced, ordering drinks, and demanding meetings like you run the fucking place,” Gabe starts. “Shit’s starting to grade on my last nerve, ya know?”

Parisi lifts a hand. “I mean no disrespect, but I’m a busy man and I don’t waste time when I have things to accomplish.”

“And what is it you need to accomplish now?”

We all sit silently, watching the two play a game of back and forth.

“Have you heard anything about Eleanor or Marco Cusenza’s whereabouts?” Vincenzo asks cutting straight to the point.

Gabe sighs, scrubbing his hand down his face, frustration evident in his voice. “No. They’ve both vanished into thin air. We heard Eleanor was arrested, but we haven’t been able to locate her in the system. She was never booked on charges, but one of the cameras caught her climbing into the back of a cop car.”

“Mmm,” Vincenzo murmurs and nods. “She did indeed leave in a police vehicle, but the officer she left with is one in question.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” I ask, leaning on the table. “You think he’s dirty or helping her somehow?”

“Are you all familiar with Captain James Swanson?”

Hawk opens his laptop and starts tapping the keys the way he does. Seconds later he announces to the room, “He’s the cop who’s arrested Cusenza in the past, but he’s never been able to make the charges stick.”

“Wonder why that is?” Vincenzo says, in a tone that says he knows exactly why.

“You got something to say, then spit it out. We’ve got our own shit to do. Ain’t got time to be playing twenty fucking questions until you get to your goddamn point.” Gabe’s frustration has officially turned to lack of patience and zero fucks to give.

“Captain Swanson is a man of reputable character among the people, and questionable character to those who know the truth. He plays both sides of the law. He’s loyal to whichever side favors him personally. But his loyalties are fickle at best.”

“So, you’re saying he’s in Cusenza’s pocket,” Jameson states skeptically. “Why would Cusenza have a cop on his payroll that he can’t trust? If this guy’s loyalty is only to himself, what makes Cusenza think he’ll be able to keep him on his payroll?”

“The same way he keeps most people on his payroll. More money and blackmail. It’s the currency of the underworld,” Vincenzo says it with a smirk and an air of pride.

“So, you think we find the cop we find Cusenza?” Gabe infers. “But what about Eleanor?” The way he says her name, it sounds like he’s been gargling nails.

“Oh, he helped her escape, but that was back when she had money to give. Russell’s latest trick has left her penniless and without friends,” Vincenzo says, then finishes off his whiskey, rolling the glass around on the table in his hand. “Her friends in Baron’s Edge were only her friends because she was married to money and she had dirt on everyone. But it seems her own closet was full of skeletons and now that they’ve been released, and her face plastered all over the news—what with accusations of theft from the company and cheating on her husband, Baron’s Edge’s elite have washed their hands of her.”

“She must have a friend somewhere. She has to have someone financing her. She can’t touch anything of Russell’s out of the bank or the police would be able to track her,” Ethan says. “She can’t use credit cards because they leave a trail as well.”

“Then Cusenza must be helping her. It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Declan concludes.

“You know, Mr. O’Malley. It surprises me you haven’t taken a vested interest in Captain Swanson.” Vincenzo looks at Declan with curiosity. Declan’s face holds almost the same curious expression.

Folding his arms over his chest, he asks, “Why would a police captain interest me?”

Vincenzo seems to realize something about what he’s said, because both his eyebrows raise, and his expression is now one of interest more than curiosity.

“I must have you confused with someone else. Forgive me. I thought perhaps there was a link between the two of you. My mistake.” Vincenzo waves off the discussion. “Gabriel. Might I suggest speaking to your brother, Thomas? He may have better information on Cusenza’s whereabouts, which could lead us to Eleanor as well?”

“That man in the basement is not my brother. And no one is going to speak to him about shit any time soon. He can rot in his cell for a little while longer. I don’t believe a goddamn thing he says anyway.”

“I see,” Parisi says with finality. He stands from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket. “I’d better be on my way then. As always, it was enlightening to speak with you all.”

Vincenzo and his men leave the sanctuary, leaving the rest of us looking around the table at each other, trying to put together what the fuck had just happened.