She raised her head. “Please help me find my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“She left rehab. She can’t take care of herself without me. I have always been the one who made sure she ate and didn’t overdose. I should have never left her but I thought she was safe in rehab.”
“Shhh,” I said, touching her cheek. She was shaking. “I’m sure your mother is fine.”
“No, she isn’t. She can’t deal with life.” She closed her eyes and I knew what was coming. “She sells her body for crystal. And sometimes it makes her feel so dirty and horrible that she just wants to give up. I’m not there to stop her next time that happens.”
After all the neglect, Leona had suffered she shouldn’t have worried about her mother like that. That she did stirred some part of me I’d thought dead. “I will find her for you,” I told her. “Where was she last seen?”
“Austin.”
That was a bit of a problem. The Mexican cartels and local MCs were in control of Texas. Remo wanted to change it eventually, but right now the Camorra had little power there. Remo had his contacts of course. People who’d rather see us in power than the Mexicans. Perhaps one of them could help. But that would require that I ask Remo for help.
“Are you sure your mother won’t come to find you?”
Leona gave a miserable shrug. “I don’t know. She might. If she remembers where I went. She doesn’t always remember properly. Her brain is a mess because of all the drugs.” She closed her eyes. “If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Nothing will happen to her,” I said firmly. I stroked her cheek and she gave me a teary smile. “Thank you, Fabiano.” I lowered my head and kissed her lips. The kiss was sweet. I’d never had a fucking sweet kiss in my life.
When I returned to the Falcone mansion, I heard the moans. I made my way into the entertainment room with the pool tables, couches, TVs and boxing ring. Savio was bent over a naked woman sprawled out on the pool table, thrusting into her. Another woman fingered herself on the same table.
She sat up when she spotted me, then hopped off. I’d fucked her before, but I didn’t remember her name. She sauntered over to me, but I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her. She froze, eyes flickering with unease.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Remo never took these women into his bedroom.
“Outside,” Savio muttered, then kept fucking the whore.
I strode out, toward the living area and from that onto the terrace with the pool landscape. Remo was there, naked, his hand fisted into a woman’s hair and fucking her mouth hard. He was glaring down at her as if he’d rather slice her open than shoot his cum down her throat.
His eyes shot up to meet mine, and he stopped thrusting but held the woman in place with his fist, his cock deep inside her mouth.
“I need your help,” I said. He had already gathered information about Leona’s mother, so I knew he’d find her.
Remo’s black brows drew together. He shoved the woman away and she landed on her ass, then quickly scurried off. He didn’t bother covering himself.
“I need to find someone. Leona’s mother.”
“You do?” he said quietly, suspicion tightening his eyes. “Why do you need to find the crack-whore?”
If he thought Leona was becoming too important to me, which she wasn’t, he might take actions into his hands and get rid of her. “Because Leona got it in her head that the crack-whore will die without her help.”
Remo came closer. I couldn’t tell his mood. He was…tense. “And you are helping her, because?”
That was the fucking question, wasn’t it?
“Because I want to.” It was a dangerous admittance. I had to hope that the years we’d spent like brothers protected me.
“That got something to do with your sisters and how you were abandoned and that shit?”
“You saved me when I needed saving.”
“I wasn’t being heroic, Fabiano. I did it because I knew you were worthy to become what you are today.”
“I’m not being heroic either. Will you help me?”
Remo shook his head. “Don’t start going soft on me, Fabiano.” He didn’t sound angry or threatening.
I relaxed my stance. “I’m not, trust me.”
Remo ran a hand through his hair. “You are a cock-block, you asshole.”
“You probably would have killed her before you could have shot your cum down her throat.”
“I would have killed her while shooting my cum down her throat,” Remo said with a twisted grin. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. “I assume the whore is somewhere in Texas, selling her worn out pussy to any asshole with a few bucks?”
“Probably.”
“Good opportunity to piss off the Mexicans, I suppose. Perhaps I can catch in a favor with the Tartarus MC.”