Chapter 23

Rake

 

Rake entered his apartment, weary from the drive, and dropped his bag by the door. The light from the open blinds faded into twilight. His apartment was as he’d left it. Old furniture, beige-colored carpet—once white, if the spots where furniture had been were any indication—a huge flat-screen on the wall, and a console stuffed with movies. His bookcases held photos, books and treasures collected over the years, like his POP! of Rocky, and his walls featured posters of his fights and others.

He showered and dried off, slung the towel around his hips, and headed to his bedroom, intent on finding his most comfortable pair of jeans, when he walked into a wall.

Well, it felt like a wall, but walls didn’t have hands that lifted people clear off their feet and slammed them into things. Rake’s instincts took over and he fought, but he didn’t make much progress except to lose his towel somewhere on the floor. The wall, one of Corsetti’s thugs, Tiny, carried him to the living room and deposited him in the armchair by the TV without breaking a sweat.

“Jesus, fuck!” Rake straightened. He wanted to spring from the chair swinging, but the gun in Christopher’s hand told him it’d be wise to stay still.

“You shouldn’t have run, Rafael,” Corsetti said. He sat on the striped couch, dressed all in black. Even his gloves were black, which Rake did not like. It made him think Corsetti didn’t want to leave any fingerprints on his dead body. His hair was tousled, and he had dark smudges under his bright blue eyes. What did mobsters lose sleep over?

Rake shook off his fight instincts and settled in the chair, not caring that every inch of his body was exposed. If they didn’t like it, they’d let him get dressed. “I didn’t feel like I had any choice.”

Corsetti lifted a brow. “Then why did you return? Do you have my money?”

“Nope.” Rake didn’t know what to say, so he lied. “I was worried about my dad after he called me.”

The sharp stare from Corsetti gave him a zing of adrenaline, but he held the man’s eyes without blinking. He could do this. He had to do this if he ever wanted a normal life again. A life that he hoped included Rio. He put Rio out of his mind. He needed to concentrate.

The scent of expensive cologne drifted in the cool apartment. A chill raced up Rake’s spine as those bright eyes drifted over his body. He’d never been shy, but that look gave him heart palpitations. Not the good kind. He had no clue if the man was gay or bi, but he had to be one of them, because no straight man looked at another that way.

“Louie, take him to get some clothes, please.” Corsetti settled in his seat.

The request surprised the hell out of Rake, and he glanced at Corsetti, who gestured for Rake to follow the giant. He tried to affect a calm demeanor but didn’t dawdle and threw on his favorite jeans and a gray gym shirt.

Tiny didn’t allow him to linger and pushed him out into the living room.

“What do you have to drink?” Corsetti asked.

He paused by the kitchen. “Maybe some beer? I haven’t been here, remember?”

Tiny growled—honest-to-God growled—deep in his chest, and Rake braced himself, waiting for him to turn into a werewolf.

“Respect,” was all he said.

Impressed, Rake lifted his hands. “My bad.”

He glanced at Corsetti. Had he stifled a laugh? He wanted to know what the hell was going on. That wasn’t a man bent on murder or revenge. Maybe Rake didn’t matter that much to him in the grand scheme of things, which he prayed was true. But why come here, in person, tonight? Why not just send his thugs?

He grabbed several cans of beer, returned to the living room, and handed them out. Christopher and Tiny didn’t touch theirs, but Corsetti cracked his open and drank. Rake did the same but tasted nothing as it went down.

Rake glanced around as he sat in the armchair. Christopher’s gun was gone. “Why do I get the feeling this meeting is different than the last one?” he asked, eyeing all three men.

“Because there’s no chance of us being overheard here.” Corsetti scanned the room, then nodded at his men. “Chris and Louie are the only ones I trust.”

Rake glanced at them but kept his attention on Corsetti. “What do you want?”

“I want out.”

The simple statement in that calm voice unnerved Rake. “Out? Like out of the business? I don’t understand. You’re the one with the power here.” It grated to say it, but if they were going for honesty, Rake would try his best.

“Not really, no.”

That stopped Rake’s comeback. He ran a hand through his hair and thought hard. “You have bosses, you mean?”

One brow raised in disbelief. “Of course, I do. And they pull my strings like a fucking marionette.”

“Okay, what does that have to do with me?”

Corsetti leaned forward. “You are going to help me.”

Rake shook his head. “I’m sorry, it sounded like you said you want my help against your bosses?”

“That’s right. And you will do as I say, Rafael, or you can kiss that handsome artist in Utah you like so much good-bye.”

Rage and fear churned in Rake’s stomach. He clenched his fist around his beer and crinkled the can. He slammed it on the table, not caring that it spewed everywhere.

“How the fuck do you know about him?” Had Kairo snitched after all? Or had someone else been here? Is Rio in danger?

“Calm down. You will do what I say, or so help me God, you and everyone you care about will pay.”

Rake tried to settle and took slow breaths. Flying at Corsetti and punching his teeth out wouldn’t help. He’d fucking love it, but it wouldn’t solve anything.

The bags under Corsetti’s eyes made sense now. He was terrified. Trapped, just like Rake.

“What happened between sending Kairo after me a few days ago and now?”

“That’s not your concern.”

Rake pushed any sympathy aside. “What do you want me to do?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“We’ll delay the money…for now. What I need first is an in with your new Marshal friends without anyone else knowing. They can’t tell any superiors or write up any reports.”

Rake was shaking his head before Corsetti stopped. “How the hell…? I don’t have that power.”

“Maybe not, but I think your new boyfriend has a way.”

“You mean Alvarado? He’s indisposed right now.”

Corsetti gave a slow blink. “That’s not my problem.” He lifted his chin and glared at Rake with all the arrogance of a man who knew he was in charge. “Make it happen, and I’ll give you more time to get me the money.” Before Rake could speak, he continued, “I’m being very generous. Don’t throw it back in my face. I could demand the money now, kill your boyfriend, and still force you to help me.”

Rake’s stomach lurched. “Fine. I’ll get in touch with Alvarado as soon as he’s available. Leave Rio alone.”

Corsetti stood and Rake mirrored him.

“You have my word no harm will come to him…for now.”

They didn’t shake or say good-bye, which was fine with Rake. He slammed the door. It didn’t make him feel any better, so he grabbed his gloves, ripped off his shirt and attacked his standing bag in the second bedroom.

Corsetti was an evil bastard, giving Rake hope one moment and snuffing it out the next. He punched and kicked and elbowed until his arms were dead. He collapsed on the floor.

Movement caught his eye. “Gah!” Rake jerked and sat up fast. “Jesus Christ, man. You gave me a heart attack. How does everyone keep sneaking up on me?”

Hunter chuckled. “I told you I was coming.”

“I know, but Corsetti was here when I got out of the shower, so I’m a little jumpy.”

Hunter cursed. “How the hell did he know you were back? Are you okay?” Hunter reached down and hauled Rake to his feet.

“I’m fine. He wanted to renegotiate his terms.” Rake was on the fence about telling Hunter. He wanted to keep his friend safe, not drag him into his mess any further.

“Renegotiate?” Hunter crossed his arms with a furrowed brow. “That doesn’t sound like him. What does he want now?” Rake’s hesitance pissed him off. “Stop with the ‘trying to protect me’ bullshit. I’m already in this. Knowing the details isn’t going to make it worse.”

Rake ran a hand over his sweaty chest. He needed another shower. “Come on. But you can’t tell anyone.” He pulled his shirt on and led Hunter to the kitchen for a glass of water. He told him about the new deal.

“Corsetti wants out?” Hunter whispered as if the man was nearby and could hear him.

Hell, maybe he could. Maybe he’d planted a bug in there and that was how he found out Rake was home. Although, he could have terrified one of his neighbors into tipping him off.

“That’s what it sounds like.”

Hunter’s lips puckered in his thinking face. “I wonder if the Marshals will play ball?”

“I have no idea. But he expects me to be the middleman.”

A tentative knock came from the door, and Rake swore. “Now what?” He didn’t want to answer it, but with Hunter as backup he went to look out the peephole.