Romeo (Dark Knights MC/Blood Fury MC: Crossover)

Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Three

“She know where you’re at?” Shade asked him.

“Fuck no.”

“Gonna tell her?”

“Fuck no,” Romeo repeated.

Shade nodded. “This is one time I ain’t gonna care that you’re keepin’ her in the dark.”

“Glad to get your approval,” he said dryly. “Bet you ain’t tellin’ your ol’ lady, either.” When Shade didn’t respond, Romeo followed up with, “Thought so. Just like Chelle don’t know you had me strapped down in front of a dead dog oven.”

“Always gonna be secrets you take to your grave,” Shade said matter-of-factly.

Romeo would bet his fucking balls that Shade had plenty of those.

It had taken over two months to get to the point where his bruises had faded, his broken bones healed, and his casts removed .

His life was pretty much back to normal. His new normal, anyway.

The one where Maddie now lived with him in his place. At least until he could find something bigger and better. A place where she wouldn’t bitch every time she climbed up and down the steep stairs—what she called a glorified ladder—to their bed.

She also had a permanent seat on the back of his sled. She was the first and would be the last woman to ever sit there.

Despite them settling into their relationship, she was stressed because she still hadn’t been offered one fucking interview.

He hated seeing her like that.

Except for the part where he volunteered to help relieve some of her stress.

One side of his mouth pulled up.

“There he is.” Shade’s head was turned as he stared out of the passenger-side window.

Romeo squinted, trying to make out the man on the move. “You sure that’s him?”

“You fuckin’ tell me. You’ve seen the motherfucker in person. Not me.”

But Romeo had texted Shade enough pictures of Roger Smith that the long-haired Fury member should recognize Maddie’s former asshole boss.

Shade now also knew everything that Smith had done to her, making him even more motivated to pair with Romeo to deal with the motherfucker. They both agreed to keep it on the down-low from their clubs since this retribution was purely personal.

Magnum didn’t need to know what they were doing. Neither did Judge or Trip .

To keep her hands clean, Maddie didn’t need to know the details, either.

“Ready?” Shade asked.

“Yeah. Can’t wait,” he murmured, watching Smith—or Russo or whatever his real fucking last name was—climb in his overpriced douche-mobile. As soon as he headed out of the parking lot of Smith’s business, Shade put the plain white van with the fake license plate into gear and followed.

Their plan was simple. Make Smith disappear.

Romeo could confirm that Shade had the perfect way to do that. They only had to get Smith up to Manning Grove without getting caught along the way.

This needed to be handled as quietly and cleanly as possible. No evidence left behind besides an abandoned sports car. The last thing they wanted was the Sicilians finding out what happened to Smith or by whom. It could spark a war between the MC and the Mafia, and no one wanted that. It was one reason they left their cuts at home since they would easily identify them.

The goal was also to keep his ass out of prison. He doubted he’d be permitted conjugal visits, even if Maddie agreed to them.

“He’s takin’ a left,” he told Shade, like Maddie’s stepdaddy didn’t have two perfectly good eyes in his messed-up head.

No surprise when Romeo got zero reaction from him. Shade was a man of little words and had perfected the poker face.

They followed that motherfucker for two hours as he ran errands in very public places. Romeo worried that if one of Smith’s stops wasn’t in a good spot for them or the asshole headed home before they could intercept him, they’d have to abort their mission and do this shit all over again another night.

Neither of them wanted to do a repeat. They wanted to get this fucking shit over with. Tonight. This way they could move the fuck on with their lives and forget Smith ever existed.

The tricky part to this plan was leaving behind no DNA, witnesses, or video proof. This had to be handled with skill. Following him home and taking the guy from his driveway or house would be fucking stupid since the motherfucker probably had a security system with cameras.

As they watched Smith throw dry-cleaning into his cage, Shade said, “Might hafta make our own opportunity.”

“Thinkin’ the same thing. Got any idea on how the fuck to do that?”

“Yeah.”

Romeo waited for him to explain and when he didn’t, he asked impatiently, “Wanna fuckin’ share?”

“Could run him off the road but damage and paint transfer would be evidence. Need to leave his cage whole and make it seem like he abandoned it.”

That wasn’t a fucking solution. Maybe Romeo needed to call one of the Shadows and get some advice. If anyone could make someone disappear without a trace, it was Diesel’s guys. They’d also know a good technique to isolate their target.

But, if it could be avoided, he’d rather not share what was going down tonight with anyone.

“Still haven’t heard your idea.”

Romeo ground his teeth when Shade only grunted a reply.

The Fury member removed his foot from the van’s brake pedal and stepped on the accelerator to follow Smith’s Porsche out of the strip mall, where the dry cleaner was located, and out onto the road.

They knew his home address, so as soon as Smith turned onto a road that would eventually lead to his gated—and guarded—neighborhood, he warned, “Better get your idea in fuckin’ motion since he’s headed home.”

Of course, nothing but engine noise answered him.

He had to trust that Shade knew what the fuck he was doing.

Shade hooked a right so hard that Romeo had to hold onto shit so he wouldn’t be thrown into the passenger door. He was not spending another six weeks in casts.

“Smith’s goin’ straight,” Romeo announced.

“Yeah.”

The Fury member sped down some unknown, dark road while keeping one eye on the GPS app on the phone attached to the dashboard in a holder.

He blew through a stop sign and slammed on the brakes in the middle of an intersection, almost launching Romeo through the windshield.

“Warn a brother, will you?” Romeo yelled. “Jesus, don’t wanna fuck up this pretty face.”

Shade turned to look at him. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out, go hide on the side of the road and when the asshole stops, jump in and we’ll drive somewhere more isolated.”

“Then what?”

“No time for fuckin’ questions. Headlights are headin’ this way.”

Romeo glanced down the road and saw a glow in the distance. Fuck.

In a flash, he pulled on his leather gloves, kicked open the van door, jumped out and hid behind a tree that never would’ve hidden his ass in the daytime. Thank fuck he blended in with the dark night.

With his pulse racing, he peered around the slim tree trunk and tracked the oncoming vehicle. He sure as fuck hoped that Shade picked the right cross-street, and this wasn’t some random driver approaching.

Once the vehicle came over a small rise, the Porsche came to an abrupt halt, despite not having a stop sign. The vehicle remained there for a few seconds before Smith laid on the horn, rolled down his window and began to curse at Shade. “Get that hunk of junk off the roadway!”

Time to move. Romeo needed to get in that vehicle before Smith put his douche-mobile in reverse and found an alternative route.

As soon as Smith ducked his head back into his cage, Romeo jerked open the passenger door and jumped in. “Drive.”

“What the hell? You! You can’t be serious! Get the fuck out of my car!” As Smith reached for his cell phone in the center console, Romeo grabbed it first and slipped it into his back pocket.

While he was back there, he pulled his gun out of the holster tucked in his waistband at the small of his back. He wasted no time pressing the end of the barrel into Smith’s temple to show the asshole just how fucking serious he was.

Smith raised both hands in surrender, pleading, “Don’t shoot me.”

Proof the narcissist was nothing but a pussy under the surface. Being related to the Russos didn’t change that fact.

“Fuckin’ drive!” Romeo shouted and jammed the business end of the barrel harder into the side of his head, making Smith flinch. “Now, or I’ll splatter your fuckin’ brains all over this piece of shit.”

He was tempted. So fucking tempted.

Shooting the motherfucker would be the simplest way to deal with Smith but too fucking messy. Not only would Romeo be covered in Smith’s DNA, he’d have to worry about gunshot residue.

It would be too risky to take him out like that. But that didn’t mean his finger didn’t caress the trigger as that fantasy played out.

“Drive!” he shouted again.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first damn time?”

What a cocky bastard. “You admit you sent your goons after me.”

“And I’ll do it again.”

“Doubt that,” Romeo grumbled.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

Fuck this asshole. “Pretty sure I do. Know your real last name ain’t Smith. Know who you’re connected to.”

“Then you have some balls to do this.”

“My balls are pretty fucking nice, if I gotta say so. Now quit flappin’ your veneers and drive.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Don’t and find out. Your choice.” He then warned, “Choose wisely.”

Smith slammed his hand on his steering wheel. “Never should’ve hired that bitch. Knew she was trouble from the start.”

“Don’t remember askin’ for any of your fuckin’ opinions. Now… Drive!” he barked.

With a tight jaw and him mumbling curses, Smith shoved the shifter from neutral into first gear. When he lifted his foot from the clutch, the car lurched forward .

“Follow that white van,” Romeo ordered, watching Smith’s hands carefully. The fucker could be packing on his person or in the cage. He kept his own gun glued to the man’s temple. “Better watch for potholes.”

Did Smith’s Adam’s apple just jump? Good.

It was an uncomfortable twenty-minute ride. For a while he wondered if Shade was fucking lost. His arm was getting tired from holding the gun steady and his hand was beginning to cramp.

When Shade finally pulled the van over, it was onto a dirt road in some corn field. No streetlights. No traffic. And the corn stalks were high enough to hide the Porsche easily.

Perfect.

Maybe he needed to give Shade more credit than being just a sociopath. It was possible he was smart, too. Romeo wouldn’t form a final opinion on his future stepdaddy-in-law until he knew him a lot better.

“Set the e-brake and shut this piece of shit down.”

“This car isn’t a piece?—”

“Don’t give a fuck. Need to remind you that your shitty opinion don’t matter. On anything.”

“Now what?” Smith huffed after the engine went quiet.

The driver’s door was ripped open, and a gloved Shade reached in, grabbed Smith, and yanked him out of the vehicle.

The ground wasn’t far, but he still hit it hard with a grunt.

“That’s what, motherfucker!” Romeo yelled. He quickly tucked his gun away, hopped out of the Porsche and joined them, where Smith was still on his ass in the dirt with Shade standing over him, a roll of duct tape in his hand.

He probably kept a whole box of duct tape in that van.

With a boot to Maddie’s former boss’s back, Romeo shoved him face first into the dirt, drove a knee into the fucker’s back, leaned all his weight into it and yanked one of his arms in a direction it normally didn’t go.

“What the hell!” Smith yelled.

“Shut up,” Romeo ordered Smith before telling Shade, “Gonna hold him down, you tape him up.”

With Romeo’s help, Shade made quick work of securing Smith’s wrists behind his back and taping his ankles together.

“You will regret this!”

They should really gag the asshole. Romeo was tired of hearing his pussy-ass whining.

“Nah. Don’t think I will.” He glanced at Shade. “Will you?”

If he would’ve blinked, he would’ve missed Shade shaking his head.

Romeo jerked the man to his feet and shoved him. Smith, unable to use his legs, toppled forward and once again landed in the dirt, unable to break his fall.

Damn shame.

“Lemme help you up.” Romeo grabbed Smith’s arm and pulled him to his feet again.

“You need to let me go!” Smith’s panic was evident in his voice.

As Shade grabbed Smith to assist taking him to the van, Romeo stopped him with, “Hang on, brother.” Then he stepped in front to face him and hauled off and slammed his fist into Smith’s nose. So much for not getting Smith’s DNA on him. He’d have to burn the blood-splattered clothes he was wearing. “That’s a message from the bitch you hired.”

Smith really deserved more than only his nose broken but that would have to do for now. What was coming next would be worse than any fucking broken bones.

“All right. Now that’s been settled… ”

“Before we load this motherfucker up…” Shade held out a bandana and Romeo snagged it from him. “Don’t wanna listen to his fuckin’ whinin’ for the next three hours.”

“Three hours?” Smith screeched. “Where are you taking me?”

When Romeo was finished tying the bandana around Smith’s mouth, he put his mouth near the fucker’s ear and whispered, “To the fiery depths of hell.”