Resurrection (Wesson Rebel MC Series Book 3) (2 page)

Houdini/Ira

Cold water jolts me awake. Sputtering, I struggle against the bonds that hold me tight. My body temperature plummets. My teeth chatter and my body shakes. I blink, but the moisture doesn’t come to my eyes. I haven’t had a drink of water in hours. I attempt to focus on my surroundings, because anything I learn might help later on. I’ve been in and out for a while. It’s hard to try to pinpoint how long I’ve been here in this dark, damp room, tortured for a reason I’ve yet to discern. The only light source is the row of small windows that sit high on the wall and the light bulb that hangs above my head. It’s a scare tactic I know well.

“Time to wake up.”

I spit at the oaf’s feet.

He’s meaty. Large, bulky, and ruddy-faced. His dark eyes dance with joy at the pain he’s inflicting.

I know the type. They exist in every organization and do the dirty work that turns everyone else’s stomach. “You miss me that much?” I ask.

His fist kisses my cheek.

My head snaps back. Pain explodes on the left side of my face.

“I can’t wait to break you down,” he growls.

Ignoring the swelling, I throw my head back and laugh.

He grabs my face. “You will show some respect!”

His breath is hot and putrid. I control my gag reflex and jerk away from his hold. “Am I still unconscious, or are you the one dreaming?”

He delivers a punishing blow to my already bruised side.

I cry out. My body is a map of tender places, bloodied and ripe. Torture isn’t the bullshit you see in movies. There are no potty breaks or dramatic pauses. It’s being pounded down and mentally fractured until you’re willing to tell them whatever they want to stop the pain. If I had a clue, I might be half-tempted to spill my guts. But I take family serious and snitch isn’t in my vocabulary.

Look where that got you the last time.
The past hurts me more than this fucker ever could.

“Real funny, Lorello.”

The last name steals the air from my lungs. Shock sets in. For a moment, I’m unable to respond.

“Did you think we’d never find you?” He grabs my hair and forces my head back. “Just because you slunk away like a puppy with its tail between his legs, doesn’t mean it changes the blood in your veins or the rightful claim to the crown.”

“I don’t want anything to do with that shit,” I seethe at him.

He tsks. “You know we don’t leave loose ends.”

“I don’t know your face, so you have to be new and probably not that important if you’re here alone to clean up their messes.”

“Things have changed, Matteo. This is the new generation of family business. You know shit.”

My mind instantly goes to Vita. If they had her, I wouldn’t be alive. We’d both be dismembered and buried somewhere even angels fear to tread. “Sounds like a pussy generation, since I’m still breathing.”

“There’s a little matter of Elisa. We found you, but she’s still hidden. We thought for sure she was dead. But now, we’re not so sure. Seems you have a mute friend who fits her description.”

“Fuck you.” I spit in his face.

How does he know this? Who has he been talking to?

The spittle slips down his face and he grins.

The manic expression frightens me more than anything else he’s done.

“I didn’t expect you to talk. But we have your cell phone. It’s a matter of time. We’re going to end this once and for all.”

I flex my hand and wrists, ignoring the way the rope bites into my flesh. This isn’t club business, its family business and that changes everything. I have to get out of here. I promised my parents I’d keep Vita safe, and I’ll be damned if I fail them.

“I don’t hear you flapping your gums now, pretty boy.”

I narrow my eyes. I’m going to step over his dead body when I leave here. You aren’t born into the family business without learning how to take care of yourself and anyone who gets in your way.

“Funny, they told me to be careful with you. That you learned from the best. Your father, Marco, would be rolling over in his grave. We caught you unaware, tossed you in the trunk, and you’ve done nothing but take it like a bitch. You smell like piss and shit, and I’m going to enjoy watching something in you die when I make sure your sister doesn’t play Lazarus this time.”

I chomp down on my cheek and hold back the words forming on the tip of my tongue. Talk is cheap and it won’t help me. I want him to think he’s gotten the best of me. It’ll make my chance at escape easier. He’s not alone. They take shifts working me over. “You’ll find we aren’t so easy to kill,” I whisper.

He laughs. “A fighter. Good, it‘ll make my victory more enjoyable.”

“You know what they say about over confidence? It makes you sloppy.” I’m rattled, but he can’t know that.

“I’m touched; you’re so worried about me.” Placing his foot on my chair he shoves me away.

I slam back into the wall.

“Now…let’s see if we can loosen that tongue.” He stalks over to a gray three-tiered toolbox.

My mouth goes dry.

As he pulls out the drawer, metal bounces off metal. “I got something special for you.” Items shift in the drawer right before he picks up a drill, showing me with a gleeful look on his face.

Chills run down my body. They’ve been toying with me for the past week, gearing up for this. The ropes give, but not enough.

He presses the trigger and walks toward me.

The whirring sends terror swirling through me.

“Let’s see how much you have to say after this.”

His steps echo and my vision distorts. Sweat rolls into my eyes. The drill burrows through my flesh and into my bone, ripping and destroying. I scream until the black takes me under.

Chapter Two

Vita

It’s midnight, and there’s still no word from Dallas about my brother. Perched on the edge of the couch, I’m unable to retire to the spare room. Every minute that ticks by is another where I’m picturing something gruesome and horrific happening to him. They try to keep the women out of the business, but we’re not blind or stupid. Well, not all of us are. I remember some of the women my uncle brought home.

Uncle.

My gut clenches. It’s been a long time since I thought about our family. I used to think I was lucky. Back in Philadelphia, we had everything we needed and more. A big house, plenty of money, cousins, and what I thought was an incredible support group of family. We did the big dinner thing every Sunday. The turnouts for birthdays, holiday, and impromptu family days were immense. Then the veil was lifted and I realized it’d all been a lie.

When my phone rings, my heart stutters. I pull it from my purse and joy blooms. It’s Ira. My stomach bottoms out in the next second. He wouldn’t be calling me. He knows better. What the fuck could I possibly say? I know I shouldn’t answer, but the thought of leaving him hanging is unfathomable. My fingers shake as I press the accept button.

“Elisa.”

I don’t recognize the voice, but the name slays me.

“The silence is all the answer I need. We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart. And this time, you won’t be so lucky.”

I hang up.

Shit, shit, shit.

I can’t think or breathe. Gasping for air, I clutch my chest. A sinkhole just opened up beneath me and I’m mentally tumbling to the greedy earth below.

They found us!

I can’t help but think back to the day our lives changed forever. In a matter of minutes, our cookie-cutter home had been turned into a crime scene. Blood sprayed the walls, pooled on the floor, running along our beige carpet. The imagery is burned into my brain. That day we became orphans. When Ira had gained the title of a widower. I blame myself. It was my fault Mia was there. I begged her to help me prepare for prom. Ira had been on the road, attending to family matters, and she would’ve been alone in the apartment they shared. Maybe that’s why part of me, even after all this time, feels so damn guilty about surviving.

Silence is no longer an option. Our secrecy is a moot point. They know we’re here. Now it’s a race to see who will survive. I can’t imagine a lot of people were happy with Uncle Lorenzo’s take over. But when a man cleans house with blood and bullets, you learn to keep your trap shut. Unless you’re willing to go to war. No surprise, most people don’t have the stomach, or the clout for it. You need more soldiers willing to die than the other guy to make it to the end. Along with the respect of the other families who’ll either look the other way or give you their blessing.

Uncle Lorenzo was smart. There were no other family members to avenge us after we were cut down. My uncle had always been a terrifying man. I want to say his elevator didn’t travel to the top, but that wasn’t the case. He’s crafty as fuck. But he’s also ruthless and blood thirsty. Just breaking someone had never been enough. He wanted to rip their fucking heart out and dine on it for dinner.

I mentally slap my face and snap out of my stupor. I have to tell them everything. It’s the only way to protect everyone and even contemplate getting Ira back. He’s a Nomad, will they even care? My stomach aches. If they turn away from us, we have no one. It’s just a matter of time until they track me down. I’m assuming he’s still alive— more for peace of mind— but it’s possible that’s not the case. I bite the bullet and text Dallas.

We need to talk.

About?

Who Houdini and I really are.

I’m coming over with Prophet in ten minutes, be ready.

I stand from the couch and walk to the mirror. It’s been years since my true hair color saw the light of day, and the contacts are now an ever-present touch. I pull my hair back from my face and turn to the left then the right, examining the changes the years have brought. It’s time to regain my identity. If I’m going down, it’ll be in the body I was born to. I reach up and remove the contacts, revealing my original hazel set of eyes. I’ll return my hair to a chocolate brown and reclaim the Lorello title.

They fucked with me, and now the lioness in me is ready to go for the jugular. I begin to make a mental list of possible allies. Lorenzo is messy. So by now, there’s a gang of people who want to see him topple. I plan on making them my best friends. We’ll rise from the ashes like a phoenix. I am my father’s daughter. I survived the worst they had to offer and now, so I’ll turn the tables.

The lock turns and I release the breath I’ve been holding in.

Dallas scans the living room. “Good, she’s asleep. Prophet, sit your ass down and get ready to relay her messages. Vita, or whatever your name is, listen up… If you put my family or my crew in a position to be hurt, I’m going to take your fucking head off. I want to know everything. And then I’ll decide if you and Houdini are worth the trouble you’ve brought to my door.”

The couch shifts as Prophet sinks down on the couch. “You’re eyes are different,” he observes.

“Yes, this is the real me. This is Elisa Lorello from Philadelphia.”

Prophet relays the information as I sign, and I pause to allow Dallas to soak it in.

“Lorello? Why does that sound familiar?” Dallas asks.

“Because, ten years ago they were slaughtered in their homes and the family was toppled. Our reign as the top family in Philly ended in a scene straight from a horror movie. They left me for dead. It was a mistake.”

“That’s why you can’t talk?” Prophet asks.

I nod. “Ruined my voice box when they gave me this permanent smile.” I trail my fingers over my scar.

“Jesus. Why are they back now?” Dallas asked.

I shrug. “Maybe it took them this long to find us. We covered our trail well. Stopping in different states, leaving fake trails, changing our identities over and over.”

“That’s why he came on as a Nomad. You’re the fucking Mafia!” Dallas exclaims.

I grunt. “We don’t use that word. And yes, he never knew when he’d have to leave. I think, after all this time, we hoped…but our family has a long memory.”

“Fuck.” Dallas runs his hands through his hair. “You’re sure it’s them and not one of our rivals?”

“They called me. It’s the only reason I’m coming clean. Our cover has been blown. There’s nothing to protect any longer. But, I have an idea.”

“I’m listening.”

My hands are going as I sign, so Prophet can translate. “Send me back to Philly, let me scout out who is friend or foe, stir the pot, gather my men for a war and come back with backing.”

“And in the meantime, what about Houdini?”

“This is the best I can do for him and you. If I’m gone. They tie their loose ends and they know without him, there’s nothing to bargain with me about. I’ve shown I can be evasive and stay hidden. If I get away again, there’s no telling how long it’ll take to find me. I’m sure it was him they tracked down, or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“How long?” Dallas asks.

“All I need is a couple of days.” I glance over at Prophet as I continue to sign. “And him. I need a translator I can trust.”

“And say I agree. What’s in it for me?” Dallas rubs his short beard.

“Peace. You don’t know war until we bring it to your doorstep. The casualties are the span of bloodlines, and the torture would make the most faithful man turn. Let me make this right,” I sign, and Prophet continues to speak my words.

“I don’t want to hand over shit to you. I want to make that clear, but this shit isn’t my world.” Dallas shakes his head. “I’m placing the entire club on lockdown. Prophet, you go with her and give her whatever the hell she needs. I want updates constantly. How long do you need to prepare?”

I answer while signing to Prophet, “We can leave tomorrow. I can’t fly commercial. I’d be a sitting duck. They’ll be watching the airports.”

Dallas whistles. “How much money are you worth?”

“A lot.”

“I’ll arrange the private flight. Be ready to leave at ten in the morning. You’re going with Prophet… Prophet, get her what she needs, keep her safe, and come back as soon as possible,” Dallas orders.

Prophet frowns.

I can tell he doesn’t want to do this. I can’t blame him.

“Is there a problem you need to tell me about?” Dallas asks. His chest puffs up and his eyes flash.

Prophet shakes his head. “No, Pres.”

“Good. Then it’s settled. Vita, you drive. I’ll start the lock down process.”

I hesitate.

“Did I stutter?” Dallas barks.

I jump to my feet, not eager to be the recipient of his wrath.

Prophet rises behind me and shuffles his way around the room as I gather my things and exit. I hit the black button on my key fob and gesture for him to get inside.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

I angle my body to catch the light from the porch lamp before I begin to sign. “Back to my house to get clothes, to the store, and then to a hotel. Which we’ll pay for with cash.”

“Do you think that’s safe?” He arches a thick brow.

I can hear the doubt in his voice. He doesn’t trust me. I narrow my gaze. “If they knew where I was. We’d know it.” I turn my back, ending our conversation, and climb into the truck, giving him no choice but to follow.

Animosity rolls off him like heat waves from the road on a hot day.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I never spent enough time with him to be offensive. I close the door, flip on the cab light, and watch him get in. “Do you have a problem with me?” I ask boldly.

“No, just girls like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sign back.

“Deceitful girls who hide behind their looks and their deafness.” He curls his lips up.

The contempt presses my buttons. “You don’t know a damn thing about me!” My fingers damn near pop, as I furiously sign. I’ve gone to hell and back. I’m just now waking up and joining the real word again. I’m not going to let anyone blow out that light. I need all the piss and vinegar I can manage to pull this off. There was a time when I backed down for no one other than the males in my family and my mother.

What happened to that girl?

I had my life pilfered. But now, I’m going to get it back. With a little hair dye, and a dig into the back of my closet for clothes I swore I’d never wear again, I’ll step back into the skin I once shed.