Page 75 of The Devil's Playground

I don’t blame Ava. I don’t blame her for waiting so long before alerting the boss that Nicolette was gone, just like I don’t blame Nic for going out on her own to pick up some chow. I made it my point to tell her that, when she’s with a Sinner, she’s safe. I wanted her to believe, and she should have.

So no, I don’t blame them. I blame the fucker who waited for me to be gone for the evening before he took the first opportune moment he could get to snatch up Nic.

There’s no doubt in my mind that that’s what happened. Unlike when Ava was snatched up by the Libellula Family last summer, there aren’t any witnesses to what happened to her. No Sinner who sold her out, either, as far as I know. Just her tossed purse, and my certainty that she wouldn’t leave me behind if she had the chance.

To keep me from losing my mind as I race toward her, I have to believe that.

I blame me, too. If I’d been in Springfield…

Fuck. A rare show of repressed temper, I slam the flats of my hands against my steering wheel, then take a sharp turn, hoping to shave off a few minutes as I head toward the East End.

It’s common knowledge that I don’t often leave the city. I’m Springfield-born and bred, and before I joined the syndicate that rules the West Side, I’d spent my formative years running all over these streets. It takes a lot to get me to head out of town. Usually, it’s just orders from Devil—something he needs me to do, something I have to take care of in his name—but, tonight, I actually had to get the boss’s permission to do some clean-up on my own.

Fucking Jake. I knew how badly he was chasing after this new girl. After seeing what happened with the first two, I’ve picked up on his M.O.

First, he plays the nice guy. He might bump into them at the store. Hold a door open for them. Remark about the weather.

I got a face that makes people want to see if they can beat me at the casino, maybe knock me down a peg or two. I’m probably too pretty for my own good, and while that made finding willing bed partners easily enough, I had to prove myself when other gangsters though I’d be an easy mark myself.

Just because I’m not fast to draw my weapon, doesn’t mean I’m a pacifist. Fuck no. Lincoln was one of the best brawlers in Springfield. As an impressionable eighteen-year-old weakling, I looked up to him. That’s how our friendship started out, with him beating the shit out of guys, and me watching in amazement—and jealousy. Eventually, he took me under his wing, teaching me everything he knew.

Games of chance have always been more of my thing. Three-card monte at first, then poker. Blackjack. Craps. The roulette wheel. I get a thrill out of being the most competent, smooth-talking fucker around, but a pretty boy like me won’t last long on these streets if I couldn’t throw a punch or take one. With Devil as my teacher, the punches I threw became harder, and I dodged faster so that I barely had to take them.

Link kills those who piss him off. I prefer to knock them around to teach them a lesson first, then arrange for them to disappear if they don’t. As the underboss, I have at least ten enforcers who stand out from the rest of the soldiers. One word from me and anyone testing the Sinners Syndicate gets their second—and final—lesson. That’s not even counting when I’ve outsourced, calling on professionals like the Reed twins whenever I’d rather it not be traced back to our crew.

Then there’s Jake. My cousin isn’t like me. He has a face that’s pleasant, yet nondescript. What color is his hair? Brown. His eyes? Brown. He has an average build, with an average height, and the best way to describe him if you had to is boyish. He’s twenty-eight, could pass for younger, and absolutely no one would think he was a threat… until he goes from being interested in a girl to deciding that she’s his.

When that happens, the only person in this world that’s safe from him is her—and, damn it, me.

Family, right? I’m family, and if I wasn’t, if I wasn’t trying to protect my idiot cousin from his mistakes, this never would’ve happened. But when Jake called, I had to go. I’ve spent years doing my best to rein him in, keeping a short leash on him so that Link doesn’t decide he’s more trouble than he’s worth. As long as Jake understands that any consequences—like what happened after Heather—are not anyone’s problem except for his, I’ll be there for him.

I thought he got that. After passing along Link’s message a few weeks ago, Jake promised that he would do better this time. If Simone wasn’t interested, he’d accept that. Considering I had Tanner run Jake’s new obsession and I found out she was married to some guy named Will, I figured he’d get the hint that this was another lost cause.

I should’ve known better. Understandably, I’ve been a little distracted lately with falling in love—and, okay, obsession—myself. Jake was quiet, Link wasn’t pushing me to get rid of him, and I was happy to focus on Nicolette… until I got the call from Jake earlier that he needed my help.

There was a reason why Jake’s been quiet. My cousin followed Simone out of Springfield two weeks ago—and had a fatal run-in with her husband. Will Burke was killed in some back alley in a small town I’d never heard of until Jake needed help with clean-up.

He’s never gone that far before—but he did early this morning. I went because I had to, and I’d brought a couple of my crew with me to clean up my cousin’s mess. We were just finishing up when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket and Link snapped at me to get my ass back to Springfield.

Killian and Bruno stuck around to make sure nothing could be traced back to Jake; a favor to me, and one I know they’ll definitely call in one day since I basically abandoned them in bum-fuck-nowhere in my haste to get to Nic. I had to hurry. One peek at the app at my phone and I knew exactly where she was.

Dragonfly territory.

I don’t tell Link. Just in case I got it all wrong and Nic betrayed me, choosing to return to her grooming bastard of an ex, I keep it from my boss. He’ll understand. It’s like how when Ava was nabbed and Damien wanted a meet with Link. Link went alone.

For Nicolette, I’m going to do the same damn thing.

Is it insane? Yup. Should I rely on my brothers in the syndicate to back me up? You’d think so.

Will I?

No.

I promised her she’d be safe. Whatever is happening to her, it’s on me. Besides, the only one who knows that I injected a tracker in Nicolette after that fucking wallet got his hands on her and it took me longer than I liked to find her is Tanner

. He created the microchip and the injector that buried it beneath her skin, and unless Link asks him, he won’t offer up the info.

Link will figure it out. For one, I only got the idea to chip Nic because Link insisted on doing that to Ava a couple of months ago. Seeing her be taken by Damien’s Family really did a number on him which is why he had Tanner come up with a sub-dermal tracker in the first place. Her overprotective, possessive husband needed to know where she was at all times after that.

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