Lights Out: Chapter 18

I thought your uncle was a low-level mobster,” I said. To Aly. My girlfriend.

“That’s what Dad told me.” She peered through the windshield at the Italian-style villa we approached. “I guess dirty work pays well?”

I was gonna dirty work her as soon as I got her alone. The smile on my face was starting to hurt at this point, but all I could think about was how we could get this over with as fast as possible so I could drag her back to her place and consummate our relationship.

Maybe we could back the car up like a dump truck, tip Brad’s body out on the driveway, and wish her uncle good luck as we raced away like the horny miscreants we were. And yes, I felt comfortable speaking for both of us. Aly had zero skill at hiding her emotions, and she’d been sending me hot-for-stalker looks since I took my mask off.

Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze from her and peered out at the towering front gate. It was closed, but there was a small console to buzz up to the gatehouse just beyond. Was anyone even awake at this hour?

I had my answer a minute later when Aly rolled down her window. She’d barely reached out to press the little red call button when the speaker crackled to life.

“Who are you, and what the fuck do you want?” a gruff male voice asked.

I knew it was the asscrack of dawn, but I still didn’t appreciate him talking to my girlfriend that way.

There went my mouth, pulling up in a too-wide smile again.

My girlfriend.

Aly leaned out into the cold night air. “I’m Alyssa Cappellucci, Nico’s niece.”

The gate swung open on silent hinges.

Aly put the car in gear, and we shared a surprised look. That seemed far too easy. No verification of identity necessary? Were they expecting us, or was there a standing order to let her in if she ever showed up? Considering what Aly said about how important family was to Nico, the latter seemed likely.

A thought struck me then, and ah, fuck – mobsters were probably more into true crime than most. I’d been so busy planning fun, naked couple activities that I hadn’t thought about how this might play out. What if someone fixated on my appearance and brought up my dad? I needed to be the one to tell Aly; I couldn’t risk her finding out from someone else when I didn’t have the time to sit her down and explain everything. She’d probably lose her shit if that happened, and I wouldn’t blame her.

I reached into the front pocket of my bag and pulled out my trusted disguise: glasses and a fake mustache. In my defense, it was a very high-end fake mustache, and it looked incredibly real, even up close, but yes, I still looked like a reject from an 80s buddy cop movie in it.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” Aly said as I flipped down the sun visor and used the mirror to guide me while I stuck the mustache into place.

“I’ll explain later. I promise,” I said, patting the sides down.

“Are you famous or something?”

“Or something,” I said, turning toward her.

She glanced at me and shook her head. “You look…”

I waggled my brows. “Hot, right?”

She jerked her gaze back to the driveway as we passed the gatehouse and the shadowy figure watching us out of its windows. “You shouldn’t. That thing is ridiculous.”

Unable to help myself, I closed the distance between us and whispered, “And yet you still want to ride it.” For good measure, I brushed it over the shell of her ear.

She jerked away, eyes fixed on our destination, pink coloring her cheeks in the dashboard light. “I think we’ve already established that I’ll try anything once.”

I straightened in my seat, trying to remind my dick that we were about to meet a notorious mobster, and doing it sporting a full erection was less than ideal. Unfortunately, all I could picture was me lying flat on my back with Aly straddling my face. I needed a distraction.

How about the dead body in the trunk?

Oh, right. I’d just killed a man. And while Aly had done a great job of weaponizing my logic and using it against me, part of me still wondered just how “accidental” Brad’s death was.

I couldn’t remember taping his mouth. Yes, I knew I’d slapped the duct tape in place, but I’d been distracted by something Aly said at the time, and was half-excited, half-terrorized by what we were about to do. Had I just been sloppy? Or had some subconscious part of me acted on impulse and placed the tape intentionally? The fact that I wasn’t sure and probably never would be was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

I slipped my glasses into place as we pulled into the wide, circular driveway. This part was cobbled with red brick. It must be a nightmare to maintain. Our springs were weird, and the freeze/defrost cycle caused havoc on the city’s roads, making them heave and buckle. I could only imagine how that would impact the tightly-packed brickwork.

As Aly slowed the car, one of the large bays of the five-car garage opened, revealing a man in a blue flannel bathrobe. Uncle Nico? He motioned us into the bay, stepping back so Aly had room to pull in. It put him on my side of the car as she parked, and I tried not to stare as we passed him. He didn’t look like a soulless mobster. The man was maybe five and a half feet tall, thin, and unimposing. His hair was salt and pepper gray, his skin was a darker shade of olive than Aly’s, and his nose was a tad too large for his face.

Aly put the car in park and turned to me. “You ready?”

I shrugged. “Not really, but what choice do we have?”

She shook her head. “None. Let’s do this.”

Together, we got out of the car.

Nico was still on my side, and I towered over him as I rose to my full height.

He stared up at me, brows lifted. “Nice stache, Porno Joe.”

Great. Smart-assery ran in Aly’s family.

A killer rebuttal was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in check. Trading insults was not the way to ingratiate myself with this man, and thanks to the body in the trunk, he had a lot of power over me. It was best not to anger him right off the bat.

I held out my hand. “Close. It’s Josh.”

He snorted but slid his palm into mine, his grip surprisingly strong. “Too bad. Josh doesn’t have the same ring. I’m Nico.”

I nodded as we let each other go.

“You Italian?” he asked, eyeing me.

“A quarter. My mom is Italian and Algerian.”

He looked me over again. “I thought you might have a little –”

“Don’t say anything racist,” Aly cut him off, rounding the car’s hood.

Nico turned toward her with arms outspread and a wide grin that seemed genuine. “I would never.”

Aly shot me a glance, clearly uncomfortable with Nico’s familiarity and the conversation she’d interrupted, but she stepped into his embrace anyway, leaning down slightly to hug him. “Thanks for letting us in. I hate to do this, but we have a bit of a –”

“EH!” Nico barked. “Not out here.” He pulled away from her and went to close the garage. Then he motioned us toward a side door.

We passed through it into a functional yet opulent mudroom, complete with marble flooring and what looked like a full doggie spa in the corner.

Nico pointed at our feet. “Shoes off,” he said. “Moira will have my head if you track that in here.”

I glanced down. Not only were my shoes muddy, but so were my jeans from when I’d puked in the bushes. The house was warm, so I shrugged off my winter coat when I finished kicking off my shoes and hung it next to Aly’s on a hook by the door.

Nico led us from the mudroom to a very ornate, busily-designed kitchen. “Coffee? Wine?”

“Coffee’s fine,” Aly said.

I squinted as I tried to take everything in. The overhead lights were bright enough to glint off all the marble and glass. It was like the Palace of Versailles had thrown up in there. Everything was done in cream and beige, and I couldn’t understand why the mosaic backsplash was full of naked people. It looked like it was supposed to be some ancient Italian design, but some of the pieces were slightly off, so one person’s arm sat much lower than the other, and another guy’s dick was separated from his body by a full tile space. It looked like it was just floating there on its own.

Like a phantom cock in the middle of a party.

Oh, God. Don’t laugh, I thought, pulling my eyes up. Unfortunately, my gaze landed on the mirrored chandelier, and the reflection of the fluorescent lights in it nearly blinded me. What was that phrase about money not buying taste?

Aly elbowed me. “You want coffee or something stronger?”

“Oh,” I said, dropping my focus to her uncle. “Coffee, please.” The thought of wine on an already sour stomach was a no-go, but I thought I could do with some caffeine since I’d barely touched the to-go cup Aly had made me.

Nico strode toward a fancy white and steel machine with far too many buttons. “So, what brings you here so early?”

“We killed someone,” Aly said.

I turned toward her with wide eyes.

She gave me a “What?” expression.

“You didn’t want to ease into that?”

She shrugged. “I must have missed school on the day they taught us the polite way to tell people about bodies in car trunks.”

Nico whipped around. “You brought a goddamn body to my house?”

Aly swiveled toward him. “Yes? Dad said to come here if I was ever in trouble.”

“Fuck!” Nico bit out. “I might have feds watching me. You can’t just bring me corpses like I’m the morgue.”

“Hey,” I said, stepping in front of Aly. He might be her uncle, but hearing him speak to her in that tone was enough to have me second-guessing whether or not I cared about making a good impression. “She didn’t know.”

Nico threw his hands up. “Tell that to the feds!” He wheeled around, yelling as he left the room. “Greg! Stefan! Alec! Junior! Get your asses up! We got a problem!”

Aly sidled next to me, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, glancing down to see her looking chagrined.

“Whoops?” she said.

I squeezed her close. “What were we supposed to do? Call the guy and warn him and the feds who might have tapped his phone?”

Footsteps thundered overhead, Nico’s shouts rousing everyone as he raised the alarm. Someone ran down a set of stairs nearby, and we turned toward the sound as a young man burst into the room, still pulling on a gray t-shirt. He was maybe Aly’s height at 5’8”, with dark hair and a rail-thin frame. Despite his baby face and freckles, something about the hardness in his eyes made me think he was older than he looked.

“Keys!” he yelled, gesturing toward Aly.

“Hey, Greg. Nice to see you, too,” she grumbled, digging around in her purse for them.

So this was Greg. I eyed her youngest cousin. Maybe he was exactly as old as he looked, and the hardness came from what he’d already done for his father. God knew I understood the way parents could prematurely age someone.

“Come on,” he said. “We gotta go.”

Aly extended her keys toward him. “What do you mean, we?”

Greg shook his head. “Keep ‘em. You drove in. You gotta drive out.” He turned toward me. “Where’s your coat?”

“Mudroom,” I said automatically.

He nodded and gestured toward his cousin. “Let’s get out of here.”

Aly took a hesitant step forward, pulling out of my embrace. “What about Josh?”

Greg’s eyes flashed to mine. “I’m gonna pretend to be him so anyone watching won’t get suspicious, and he’s gonna stay here and fill Dad in.”

“Uh-uh,” Aly said. “He’s not getting separated from me.”

“He’ll be fine,” Greg told her. “You think Dad wants to get on your bad side by messing with your boy toy?” He glanced at me again, giving me a once over. “Plus, it looks like he can handle himself. Now, move, Aly. We don’t have much time.”

She turned back to me, expression worried.

I stepped in and kissed her forehead before lifting my eyes to Greg. “I get that you’re in a rush, but I have to know what your plan is.”

He shifted from one foot to the other, talking so fast that he almost tripped over his words. “We’re gonna get to a safe spot and have someone remove the body.”

“What if the feds trail you?” I said.

“We’ll lose them.”

I held his gaze for a long moment. Jesus, he was just a kid, barely out of high school. “Don’t let anything happen to your cousin.”

“I won’t,” he said, stepping toward the door like he was trying to prompt Aly into action.

I looked down at her. “I’ll be okay. You?”

Her brows pinched together as she frowned. “I hope so. I don’t like this.”

“Me neither, but they’re the experts, and we have to trust that they know best.”

Greg snapped his fingers. “We don’t have time for a mushy goodbye, Aly. Come on.”

Annoyance flashed across her face as she turned away from me. “I’m coming. Jesus, calm down.”

I met Greg’s eyes over Aly’s head and gave him the barest shake of my own, my stomach churning with anger. Dad used to snap at my mom, and it was a huge pet peeve of mine. “Don’t do that again.”

I’m not sure what my face looked like, but it was enough to make the child of a hardened mobster take a step backward.

“Sorry,” he said.

I tipped my head toward my girlfriend. “To her.”

He looked at Aly. “Sorry. Now, can we please go before my da –”

Nico reentered the room from a side door. “What the fuck are you two still doing here? Andate, idioti!”

Greg, obviously more afraid of his father’s wrath than mine, grabbed Aly’s wrist and hauled her toward the mudroom. She broke his hold halfway there and threatened him with bodily harm if he touched her again.

She shot me one last look before she left. “Be safe.”

The words were a warning. Be safe, or else. I forced a reassuring smile and nodded. “You too.”

Greg said something sharp from the other side of the door, and Aly stepped out and shut it on the sound of their continued bickering. A rumbling noise told me the garage was opening again.

And then I was alone with Aly’s mobster uncle.

I turned toward him, wary, but he was already stomping out of the room again, head craned toward the ceiling as he yelled at his other sons to get a move on. Soon, three more men tumbled into the room, ranging from their mid to late 20s. They looked like Greg, only filled out more.

Nico returned to the coffee maker and started pushing buttons. “What happened?” he threw over his shoulder, and suddenly, I was the center of attention.

I hated being the center of attention. It made me want to fold in on myself, hide, but Aly was relying on me, so I had to keep my shit together for her.

“First, where are Greg and Aly going exactly?” I asked.

“Back into the city to an autobody shop we run,” Nico said as the fancy coffee machine whirred to life. “Our guy there will clean your car while others take care of what’s in the trunk.”

“And you think Greg and Aly will be okay?”

He nodded with his back to me. “Greg knows what to do. He’s one of our best drivers, and he’ll get other people on the road with them to run interference if he and Aly pick up a tail.”

I let out a heavy breath, more nervous for Aly than before because it finally hit me that my girlfriend was about to be back on the road, driving around the city with a dead body. Fuck, I should have argued more or found some other plan that didn’t involve her taking such a risk, but it all happened so quickly.

“You still with us, Joe?” Nico asked.

I jerked my gaze up from the floor and found him staring at me, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s Josh,” I said. “Tell me she’ll be okay.”

I thought my continued delaying would piss him off, but he only grinned. “You really like my niece, huh?”

I nodded, looking around to see all four men eyeing me in the same speculative manner. Why did this suddenly feel like a trap?

“And are you responsible for the body in the trunk?” Nico asked.

I nodded again, and the men around me tensed. It occurred to me then that the idea of Aly dating a killer might not be a welcome one to her male relatives.

“Then you need to tell me what happened,” Nico said, and I had a feeling that if he didn’t like my story, not even Greg’s promise to Aly that I would be okay would keep me alive.

“A rapist and likely murderer named Brad Bluhm was in the hospital two nights ago,” I said. “He and Aly had a verbal altercation, and she insulted him. Earlier tonight, he tried to break into her house.”

The room filled with the rumblings of angry men, and I started to feel a little safer now that we had a mutual hatred of Brad in common.

Nico’s dark eyes burned with anger. “Why was he there?”

“He had a kill kit on him,” I said, not bothering to elaborate since they likely knew what it was. “We overpowered him, tied him up, and planned to leave him on the back porch of his latest victim’s family, but he died en route. Aly said we should come here, so we did. Brad’s cell phone is still at his house, and he turned his car’s GPS tracker off, so I don’t know where it is, but I’m guessing somewhere near Aly’s house.”

“How do you know that?” Nico asked.

Fuck. Walked right into that one. “I’m a hacker.”

One of Aly’s cousins shifted forward, drawing my gaze. “What model and make is Bluhm’s car?”

I told him.

Nico snapped his fingers at the son who’d spoken, and I tried not to grind my teeth. It must be a family thing. “Call Jimmy,” Nico said. “Get his guys over there, and don’t leave until you find the car and haul it out.”

His son nodded and peeled away, heading for the door.

Nico turned to another one. “Her house needs to be scrubbed down. Have Aly and Greg meet you there when they’re done with Josh’s car so she can get her cat and her things before you start.”

That son headed for the door next, leaving just me, Nico, and Nico’s oldest child – Junior? – standing around the island.

The family patriarch eyed me. “What else?”

“All Brad learned about Aly at the hospital was her first name, so he must have done some digging to find her,” I told him. “I’m worried that his phone or a computer at his house might point the cops straight to Aly when he gets reported missing.”

Nico turned toward Junior. “Go to Vinny’s and tell him you need a whole crew at Bluhm’s house.”

“He comes from money,” I warned them. “He’ll probably have security cameras and alarms and –”

Nico held up a hand, silencing me. “All due respect, but this isn’t our first rodeo.”

“Are you going to steal the computer or hack it?”

Nico glanced at his oldest.

Junior met my eyes. His gaze was even harder than Greg’s. “This needs to be a smash-and-grab because we don’t have time to prepare. We’re gonna steal it.”

I shook my head. “That’s too suspicious. Take me with you, and I’ll hack it.”

His brows lifted as he looked me over. “You sure?”

I blew out a breath. “Yes. I do this for a living, and I can get in and wipe Brad’s drive in less than ten minutes without leaving a digital footprint.”

Junior turned toward his father, brows raised in question.

Nico threw his hands up and whirled back to the coffee machine. “I’m gonna have to make this all over again in a to-go mug.”

Forty minutes later, I was still alive, having passed whatever weird test that was with Nico in the kitchen, and now I sat in the back of a van, sipping a piping-hot macchiato out of an insulated mug. The sides of the vehicle bore the markings of the local power company. I couldn’t figure out if it was stolen, a good copy, or, worst-case scenario, actually belonged to said power company because it was mob-controlled.

I made a mental note to stop messing with their grids whenever I wanted to break into my girlfriend’s house. I was already going to owe the mafia a favor for this; there was no need to paint an even bigger target on my back.

“You like the coffee?” Junior asked.

He was seated across from me on a bench with two much larger men I hadn’t been introduced to – probably for the better. There were two more on either side of me, and at first, I worried they were my cleanup crew until they started talking logistics about what we were about to do.

“The coffee is great,” I said.

Junior nodded. “Make sure to tell my old man if you want to get on his good side. He’s vain as hell about his barista skills.” He frowned and turned toward the man on his right. “Baristo? Is that a gendered term?”

“No idea,” the guy grumbled.

My phone chimed in my pocket, and I slouched backward on the bench to fish it out. The second I saw Aly’s text, I blew out a relieved breath. “They made it to the garage safely.”

“Took them long enough,” Junior mumbled.

Where are you? Aly asked.

Doing secret agent shit, I told her.

What do you mean? Are you not at his house anymore?

Smart woman, being vague on the details.

Nope. Out and about, I told her.

What do you mean? Are you already doing something for him?

Maaaybe, I texted back.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

I sent her three laughing emojis.

Josh, I am serious right now. Do not do anything for him. This is how they get you.

She was probably right, but there was no way I was backing out now. Not when the alternative was the cops becoming suspicious when Brad’s shit went missing along with him.

I took a deep breath and texted her back. I’ll be safe, I promise. But this needs to get done. Please trust me.

I think you know how much I trust you, she said, and nope, I did not need the reminder of how willingly she’d worn my hand like a necklace while crammed in a van with seven other men.

It’s everyone else I don’t trust, she said. If anything happens to you, I’m going scorched earth. Tell whichever of my asshole cousins you’re with.

I glanced up and found Junior watching me.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Aly wanted me to pass along a warning.”

He raised his brows and canted his head, waiting.

“She said to make sure I get home safe,” I said.

He snorted. “I’m sure it was that PG. You know, for someone not in the family business, she sure shares a lot of our traits.”

The guy next to Junior elbowed him in the ribs. “Maybe it’s genetic.”

Junior turned slowly toward him. “What are you saying? That all Italians are meant to be in the mob?”

“Uh, no,” the guy said, backtracking.

“Because that’s racist, Phil.”

I ducked my head and refocused on my phone. Nope. Not contributing to that argument.

I told him, I said. You’ll be pleased to know that he was shooketh.

Impressive, she texted back. Few people know the old English form of that word.

I grinned. Now that Aly had stopped pretending to be annoyed by my needling, she’d started giving it back to me, and I liked it. A lot.

I slipped a key in your purse, I told her. It’s to my place. If you want to get yourself and The Chosen One settled there, I can meet you after I’m done.

What about Tyler? she asked. Won’t that be awkward?

I blinked. Right. Somehow, I’d forgotten about him. And the fact that he and Aly had been together. My brain had probably buried the information to protect me, but now it didn’t feel necessary. They’d never been serious, and I knew neither of them still harbored feelings for the other, so there wasn’t a need to feel threatened or insecure.

I texted my roommate. Remember how I agreed to help Aly?

It was barely five in the morning, but Tyler was an early riser, and even on the weekends, he had difficulty sleeping in. His response came through almost immediately.

Please tell me you two hit it off, he said.

I grinned. I’d lucked out in the best friend department.

A little bubble appeared, telling me he was typing. Another text came through a second later. Because you’ve been creepier than normal lately, and I was starting to think I needed to call Maria and Rob for another intervention.

And just like that, he ruined it.

No need to involve my parents, I told him. I asked Aly to be my girlfriend.

Grats! Tyler texted. Wait, she said yes, right?

Yeah. Do you mind if she comes over?

Not a problem, he said. Are you not going to be with her?

No, I told him. I have to take care of something, and then I’ll be back in an hour or two. Her house needs to get fumigated, so she’ll have her cat with her.

Great. That little shit hates me.

My grin returned. I’d never get over how special it made me feel that I was one of only two humans Fred tolerated. How dare you impugn the good name of my son.

Your son?

Yes. Sir Frederick Cappellucci-Hammond, the first of his name.

Tyler texted me an eye roll emoji. Thank fucking god there’s a woman in your life to take some of your weirdness off my hands.

Unlike Aly, Tyler didn’t seem to appreciate my particular brand of humor.

Thanks for this, I said. She’ll be there in a little while. I gave her a key so she could let herself in.

Daaamn. A key already? You went in hard. She know about your dad yet?

My grin slipped as a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. Not yet. She knows my childhood was rough, but not the full extent of it. I plan on telling her when I get home.

Let me know if you want me there to help explain it all, he said.

I think I’ll be okay, but thank you.

I switched back to Aly’s text thread. He’s cool with it.

You sure? she asked. This will sound horrible, but I didn’t even think about how he might feel about us until now.

Ha! I did the same thing. I blame you for it.

Me?! she wrote back. How is this my fault?

Oh, I think you know, I said. And don’t worry. He’s just happy I’m happy.

I’m happy you’re happy, too, she wrote.

The van jerked forward like the driver had stomped on the gas. My phone flew out of my hand, and I had to grab onto the bench to avoid joining it on the floor.

Junior slammed into the guy beside him and glared toward the driver’s seat. “What the fuck, Vinny?”

“The goddamn cops are at Bluhm’s house!” he yelled back.

Junior swore. “Slow down. Speeding past it will look suspicious.”

“I got warrants out on me,” Vinny said, his voice laced with panic.

Junior shot from his seat, pulling a gun from the inside of his fake power company jacket. He kneeled out of sight behind Vinny and pressed the muzzle to the man’s side. The sound of a safety clicking off echoed through the cabin.

“Slow. The fuck. Down,” Junior said.

Vinny eased his foot off the gas, and a chorus of relieved exhales rose around me. Jesus Christ, that was tense.

Junior whipped around and pinned me with a glare. “How the fuck are they here already?”

Every set of eyes in the rear of the van swiveled to me like I had all the answers, but all I could do was shrug. “I have no idea.”

Junior pulled the gun from Vinny’s side and dropped back into the seat across from me. He leaned over, elbows on his knees, and pinned me with his stare. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened again. You guys must have slipped up somewhere.”

I reached for my phone on the floor. “Let me just tell Aly to be careful.”

Junior kicked the phone out of reach and pointed his gun at me. “Aly will be fine. You need to worry about yourself right now. Start talking, pretty boy.”

Oh, fuck.