Rogue - Jericho's Boys #2 - ch. 15 (Patreon)

Unbeta'd/Unedited.

Levi

Levi tugged awkwardly at his slightly wrinkled black button-down shirt, smoothing it over his chest again. He’d put on his nicest jeans and his cleanest boots, but he still felt wildly out of place.Beside him, Shiloh stared a hole through the marble wall like he had x-ray vision. He’d borrowed a cream colored crew neck sweater from Nico and a pair of jeans from Levi. They were a little long, but it just looked like a stylistic choice, not ill-fitting clothes.

Not that it mattered.

When they’d entered the lobby downstairs, the receptionist had given them a hard once over then tried to point them to the service entrance, assuming they were workers. When Levi had explained they had a meeting at noon with Lorenzo Conti, she’d stared them down for a solid minute before finally giving in and calling upstairs. When whoever answered the phone confirmed they did, in fact, belong there, she’d sighed dramatically and pointed to the bank of elevators. “Thirteenth floor.”

“This guy better be good. We’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

Levi turned to glower at Seven, who sat at the end of the long wooden conference table wearing baggy jeans, a navy blue beanie and a navy hoodie so big that it could have comfortably housed a family of racoons for the winter. Seven ignored Levi’s look, spinning in the leather chair, then lifting his feet and throwing his arms in the air like he was on a rollercoaster.

“You could have waited in the car,” Levi reminded him. “Or, better yet, just dropped us off.” He reached for his phone. “Actually, you still can. We can just grab an Uber. Have a safe trip back.” Levi gave an exaggerated wave. “Bye-bye.”

“You’re ungrateful,”Seven said, sounding hurt. “I took time out of my day to help you-”

“You just didn’t want to work at the garage, you liar,” Levi countered.

Seven gave him the finger. Levi gave him two in return.

Seven stuck out his tongue. “You’re just ungrateful.”

Before Levi could counter, Seven flipped his hood up to cover his eyes like he was contemplating taking a nap, even though Levi knew he was too keyed up to sleep during the day. Of all the people Jericho could have chosen to give them a ride, why Seven? He didn’t know how to act right if Jericho wasn’t there to keep him in line.

If they’d known this Conti guy would be late, they wouldn’t have had to rush. They could have at least tried to look less like…criminals. Though, technically, he guessed they were criminals. But wasn’t everyone who came to a defense attorney? No,that wasn’t right. Innocent people went to jail all the time. Hell, that’s why they were there. To get an innocent man set free.

But was Mal really innocent though? Or just in prison for the wrong crime?

“What if he says there’s nothing he can do?” Shiloh whispered out of nowhere, before starting to gnaw at his thumb nail.

“He would have said that on the phone,” Levi assured him, pressing a hand to Shiloh’s now rapidly bouncing leg. “He wouldn’t rush to meet us just to say there was nothing he could do, right?”

Shiloh hesitated, then nodded, laying his head on Levi’s shoulder. Seven played a game on his phone. Levi thought about signing in to play as well, but he couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts were jumping around from topic to topic, no real landing spot in sight. He stared out through the glass door of the conference room, taking in the upstairs lobby.

While downstairs had been all bleached wood and fake plants and shiny chrome. Upstairs was marble, walnut wood and glass. The place just wreaked of money. The walls and floor were made of the same white marble, shot through with streaks of black and gray and gold. There was a chandelier over the front desk and a waterfall that took up the whole right wall. When they’d arrived, the receptionist—a much friendlier red-haired girl with bright green eyes—had walked them past five or six glass walled offices before handing them off to the Lorenzo Conti’s paralegal, Drucilla Presley.

That’s how they’d ended up in this enormous but boring conference room. The table could easily fit twenty people comfortably and the leather office chairs were buttery soft. A projector screen took up part of one wall and four enormous plants partially did their part to try to hide the speakers mounted on the wall in the corners.

Levi was contemplating why a law firm might need surround sound, when an intimidatingly large man came into view, stopping at Drucilla’s desk. Was that…Lorenzo Conti? Levi looked at Seven, grateful he was still hyper-fixated on his game. There was no way his friend would be able to control himself around the man in front of him.

Please don’t let that be Lorenzo Conti.

The man spoke with the snotty paralegal—Drucilla—while she threw back her head in a fake laugh, tossing her glossy ponytail over her shoulder, while smacking her glossy lips and dangling her glossy black heel off of one toe. She certainly hadn’t been that friendly to them. She’d led them into the conference room an hour ago with a pinched expression and frosty demeanor, stomping around the room, side-eyeing the three of them like one of them might trip and get their poverty all over her.

Now she leaned over her desk, rounding her shoulders so her huge breasts were at eye level with the stranger. To his credit, the man didn’t acknowledge her blatant flirting, too busy pointing at papers he clutched in one meaty hand. =

Levi continued to study him. He was tall, well over six-foot. He had wide shoulders, a trim waist and an ass that said he spent a lot of time in the gym. His deep brown hair was short on the sides, but long on top, swept back into a professional style. He had olive skin, thick brows, a prominent chin and a large nose that looked like it had been broken more than once. None of those things should have made the man attractive, but the universe had smiled, because the man was good-looking objectively speaking.

He was dressed like most of the people in the building except his snowy-white dress shirt was open at the collar and rolled up to reveal his forearms, his patterned tie hanging loosely around his neck. His charcoal gray pants were likely part of a much more expensive suit, but the jacket was nowhere Levi could see. Maybe he’d left it in his office.

The stranger had clearly paid a great deal of money to have his clothing tailored to fit his large muscular frame because they fit him like a glove. And if being friends with Felix had taught Levi anything, it was that nothing off the rack fit like that. Nothing.

On the surface, everything screamed high powered attorney. The thousand dollar haircut, the expensive shoes, the tailored clothes, the Gucci workbag. All of it. But the anomalies were too large to ignore. What kind of lawyer had multiple piercings in his ears? What kind of lawyer was covered in ink?

If this man was Lorenzo Conti, he spent just as many hours under a tattoo machine as he did at the gym. His tattoos started just below his chin, covered his neck and chest before disappearing beneath his shirt, only to reappear on his muscular forearms going all the way down to the tips of his fingers on both hands. He also wore no less then four rings on his right hand. Big, gaudy rings. Rings that would cause a lot of damage should you come in contact with them at a high velocity.

The man tapped the papers on the woman’s desk, leaving them with her, before crossing to the conference room. Oh, fuck. Here we go. The moment Shiloh caught sight of him, he audibly gasped, clutching Levi’s thigh. Seven’s head jerked up at Shiloh’s reaction, just as the man entered the conference room.

Seven tipped his head to peek out from under his oversized hood, giving the stranger a lascivious look, before clicking his tongue and purring. “Hey, Daddy.”

Levi slammed his hand on the conference table, startling Shiloh and the stranger, but it was Seven’s attention Levi needed. When his friend turned his lazy gaze towards him, Levi made his eyes wide and his expression sour, hoping his hostile look conveyed how much he needed Seven to not Seven right now. When he saw nobody looked in his direction but his friend, he mouthed, shut the fuck up.

Seven rolled his eyes, then returned to ogling the man in the most unsubtle manner possible. The other man didn’t seem to mind, a small smirk playing at his lips, even though he said nothing.

Levi wanted to crawl under the conference room table. This is why Jericho never wanted them at Atticus’s fancy functions. They didn’t know how to act right.

As if to prove his point, Seven stared at the man’s ass as he walked towards them, licking his lips like a cartoon dog thirsting over a steak. The stranger caught the whole thing in the windows reflection, chuckling at Seven’s antics but, again, choosing to ignore them. Thank God.

He stopped in front of the two of them. “My name is Lorenzo Conti, you can call me Enzo. Which one of you is Shiloh?”

“Me,” Shiloh said meekly, taking Enzo’s hand when offered. Levi watched Shiloh’s tiny fist get swallowed in the man’s grip.

“So you must be Levi?” Enzo asked.

They shook hands as Levi said, “Yes.”

Enzo’s gaze traveled to Seven at the end of the table, snorting when he gave him his most dazzling grin, showing off his snowy white teeth. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Seven, he drove us here. Ignore him,” he said, deadpan.

Enzo did not ignore him, his gaze crawling languidly up Sevens’ body like he wondered what he was hiding underneath those clothes. Fuck. They didn’t have time for this. They were there for a lawyer, not Daddy shopping.

Levi cleared his throat and Enzo turned his attention back to them. “I’m assuming I can speak freely in front of your…driver?” Shiloh and Levi both nodded. “Well, I’ve reviewed your brothers case on the way over and I have good news and bad news. Which would you like first.”

“The bad,” Shiloh mumbled, looking like he might dissolve into tears at any moment.

It broke Levi’s heart that Shiloh wanted the worst parts first. It just drove home how traumatized he was. The bad news was always so much easier to believe. Sometimes it even felt better. Waiting for the other shoe to drop all the time was exhausting, but when it finally did, no matter how badly it sucked, at least the dread had disappeared.

“The bad news is, your brother Micah did a great job framing your brother. At least on paper.”

Shiloh’s lip wobbled, but he clenched his jaw,nodding. Some small part of Levi had hoped Micah was a moron. That he was as sloppy as he was mean. But it was clearly not going to be as easy as that.

“And the good news?” Levi asked.

“You have me as your attorney, pro bono,” he said, without even a shred of humor in his voice. “And I never lose.”

“You never lose,” Shiloh repeated, voice dull.

“Never,” Enzo repeated.

Seven scoffed. “So how are you going to help Shiloh’s brother? Mr. Big Shot Lawyer?”

Enzo answered Seven’s question but directed it at Shiloh. “Well, first I’m going to get him out on bail.”

Shiloh’s mouth fell open. He opened and closed it a few times like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. Finally, he said, “How? His bail is seven hundred thousand dollars. Even bonded there’s no way we could do it. I don’t have seventy thousand dollars lying around and I certainly don’t have anything worth almost a million dollars to use as collateral,” Shiloh said, his pitch climbing as he spoke until Levi covered his hand and squeezed it.

“Let me worry about that,” Enzo said, like it was nothing.

Levi’s stomach dropped. Every time Thomas Mulvaney was involved in something, money appeared to no longer be a factor. But Levi hated it. He didn’t want to feel indebted to anyone. Even someone as caring as Thomas Mulvaney.

Levi was willing to bet Shiloh didn’t either. “Does handling it mean Thomas is going to write a check?”

Enzo waved a hand as if money was this ephemeral thing, gone so quickly it wasn’t worthy of their worries. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Are you saying you can get him out without bail money?” Seven clarified, tipping his head back to see him from under his oversized hood. Levi wanted to tell him to take the stupid hood down. Jericho would have slapped the shit out of Seven for wearing his hat indoors, much less the stupid hood too.

Enzo flicked an irritated gaze to him. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

The older man’s agitation reminded Levi of a cat, tail twitching. He started to pace the length of the conference room, pulling a tennis ball from his pocket and tossing it in the air. Shiloh’s mouth fell open. Levi didn’t blame him. The man’s pants were so tailored, pulling a piece of paper out of them would have looked like a magic trick, nevermind an entire ball.

“I’m almost positive your brother bribed someone in the district attorney’s office. It will only take me a couple hours to figure out who.”

“Why do you say that?” Shiloh asked, brows pinched.

“Well, your brother hand-delivered this so-called evidence right to the prosecutor, skipping over the police entirely. At the very least it’s a chain of custody issue, at most, it’s bribery. You can’t get an indictment without a grand jury and whatever the prosecutor told the grand jury had to have been a lie.”

“Is that a good thing?” Shiloh asked, brows pinched together like he was trying to keep up.

“Depends. Either your brother has been framing your brother for his own crimes since he began his criminal enterprise, or he panicked and through Malachi under the bus because someone was starting to catch on to your brother’s illegal activities. Between my forensic accountants and Thomas’s…Calliope, we can unravel this incestuous little ball of yarn.”

Levi deflated against the chair. “That’s good.” When Enzo didn’t say anything, Levi asked, “Right?”

Enzo grinned. “It’s great.” He flipped the ball in the air, catching it with ease. “But it could take months. Years, even. I can get him out on bail until the trial, but if we can’t find something that forces them to dismiss the charges all together, your brother could still end doing time in federal prison.”

Shiloh’s face paled at Enzo’s directness. “What?”

Seven looked at Shiloh. “Look at it this way. Club Fed is way better than doing gen pop at a state level,” When three blank faces stared back at him he shook his head like they were all stupid. “What? Am I wrong? My dad once dragged a man’s corpse over state lines just to be sure the case went to the feds.”

Enzo blinked at Seven, seemingly fighting a laugh. “Your dad’s in jail?”

Seven’s face twisted into what Levi and Nico liked to call his thinking face. It was this silly little expression that fell somewhere between trying to do a complex math equation and looking mildly constipated. Finally, he said, “I don’t think he is at the moment, but chances are he will be. I’m starting to think he likes it better in there.”

Enzo narrowed his gaze, studying Seven carefully. “You said your name is Seven?”

Seven’s shoulders rolled back, his chin coming up, immediately on the defensive. “Yeah, and…”

Enzo appeared amused by Seven’s petulance. “So you must be one of Ledger’s kids.”

Seven flinched at that. Stan ‘The Ledger’ Symanski given the moniker because he was meticulous with his books and ruthless with his collections. He was a big-time mobster back in Poland but here in the states his dick and his temper seemed to always get him into trouble.

“I’m not a kid,” Seven said. “But yeah, he’s my dad.” A look of dread passed over Seven. “Please tell me your not his attorney.”

Enzo’s lip curled. “I have no use for men who demand others pay their debts while owing thousands in child support to…what? Nine women?”

“Ten,” Seven said, rolling his eyes. “What kind of criminal defense attorney only represents ‘good’ criminals?” he air-quoted.

Enzo was getting to Seven. Levi was acting like a brat which meant he respected Enzo’s answer and was mad about it. Not that he’d ever admit it.

Enzo shrugged. “I represent who I want, when I want. I have my own personal code of ethics.”

Seven didn’t respond, crossing his arms over his chest and staring sullenly at the floor. Enzo bit back a smile, turning back to Shiloh and Levi. “Where were we?”

“My brother in Club Fed,” Shiloh muttered, looking a little green.

Enzo waved his hand like the idea of Mal in prison was silly. “That’s a worst case scenario and rich people rarely get to worst case scenarios.”

Shiloh shook his head. “But I’m not rich.”

Enzo bounced his tennis ball off the conference room table, then caught it. “Lucky for you, Thomas Mulvaney has a soft spot for adorable urchins in need. Once I get Malachi out on bail, we can figure out how to turn the tables on Micah so he can do a little time in Club Fed.”

Levi would never let that happen. As long as Micah was alive, he was a threat to Levi, to all of them. “You don’t need to worry about Micah,” Levi said, voice cold. “We’ll deal with him ourselves.”

Enzo seemed delighted by this answer, giving him a quick smile. “Ah, yes. Jericho’s Boys and their street justice,” he said. “While I’m not opposed to the occasional bout of retaliatory vigilantism, or even cold-blooded killing if it furthers-”

“So much for a code of ethics,” Seven muttered, just loud enough to cut Enzo off.

The older man’s head snapped to Seven, staring hard in his direction. Seven stared back, mouth in a flat line, chin up defiantly. Jericho would kill Seven if he found out he’d behaved like this in public.

Enzo seemed to make some kind of internal decision, prowling to where Seven still sat sulking, bracing a hand on the conference room table to lean into his space until they were almost nose to nose. “What was that?” he asked, voice deceptively pleasant.

“Nothing. Forget it,” Seven mumbled, refusing to look at the man.

Enzo pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look at him. “Oh, no. You’ve been begging for my undivided attention since I walked in. Well, now you’ve got it. Speak.”

Seven clenched his teeth shut, his expression mutinous. Enzo’s tone bordered on condescending as he said, “What’s the problem, kid? Hmm? Need a strong male figure in your life?”

Something dark swept across Seven’s face but he covered it quickly, batting his long lashes at Enzo dramatically. “No, I need a strong male figure in my ass. Want the job, Daddy?” he simpered.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Levi muttered. Shiloh stared, riveted, watching the two like the only thing missing was a bowl of popcorn.

Enzo didn’t even acknowledge Levi’s outburst, his gaze locked in on only Seven. “We’ll discuss that at a later date. Without an audience. Until then, you’re going to sit here—silently—and behave. If you don’t think you can do that, you are free to leave. Can you behave?”

“Yes,” Seven mumbled.

“Yes, sir,” Enzo growled.

“Yes, sir,” Seven repeated so meekly Levi’s mouth fell open.

Enzo started to stand, then shoved Seven’s hoodie off his head, snatching the beanie as well and dropping it in his lap. “And take your hat off when you’re indoors,” Enzo told him, shaking his head like he was disappointed.

“Sorry…sir,” Seven managed.

Enzo’s “Good boy.” was barely audible, but Levi watched it reverberate through his friend like a tuning fork making him shiver.

Shiloh turned to Levi, blinking at him with wide owlish eyes. Levi cringed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know why he’s like this.”

Shiloh leaned in close, licking his lower lip nervously, before saying, “Can we-Can we add that to the bucket list? Maybe?”

Levi’s cock kicked in his pants, his lips parting in surprise. When he recovered somewhat he thought to ask, “Which part?”

Shiloh bit his lip then let it go. “All of it?”

“Yes. Yes, we definitely can.”

Shiloh grinned.

Levi’s head spun as a million different scenario’s played through his brain on fast forward. Levi loved telling Shiloh what to do and he was especially good at following orders. Of course, Shiloh hadn’t specified exactly what role he wanted to play. Levi leaned into his space. “Just to be clear, I’m domming you, right?”

Shiloh’s responding grin made Levi flush. “We’ll see.”

Enzo strolled back to them like they hadn’t just witness him brat-taming their friend in the middle of a conference room in a billion dollar law practice. “Where was I?”

“The occasional cold-blooded murder,” Shiloh said helpfully.

“Oh, that’s right. Murder. Taking Micah off the chessboard is always an option, but if he’s the only one who knows the truth about his operation, it’s going to be far more difficult to prove Malachi’s innocence.”

“Mal could still go to prison, even if Micah’s dead?” Shiloh asked, horrified. “Micah’s been saying this whole time that all he had to do was make a phone call and Mal’s charges all goes away and Mal can come home. Was that all a lie?”

Enzo gave him a soft look. “If your brother paid off the prosecutor, maybe he could make it all go away with a phone call. That would be the ideal scenario. Do you think you can make him do that?”

Shiloh shook his head. “He enjoys using Mal’s imprisonment to punish me too much. I don’t know if he’ll ever let him out. I think part of him worries Malachi will retaliate.”

Enzo scoffed. “I would.” He went back to tossing and catching his tennis ball. “What about torture?”

Seven snorted, just as Shiloh gasped. “What?”

Enzo cut his eyes to Seven, silencing him with a single stern look.

To Shiloh, he said, “Maybe we could torture him into calling the prosecutor and telling them to pull the plug on the operation. It would be the quickest route.”

“You’re…a defense attorney?” Shiloh asked, hesitantly.

Lorenzo gave Shiloh another of those terrifying smiles. “I’m a problem solver with a law degree. People pay me a lot of money to make their problems go away. If I can do that quickly and quietly using the law, then I will. But if there’s a shorter, more efficient way to get from point A to point B, then I’m not above taking a machete to whatever’s in my way to dig that new path out.”

Shiloh blinked twice before saying, “I don’t know if torture will work. Micah might endure anything if it meant hurting Mal and I in the process.”

“Boo,” Enzo deadpanned. “Oh, well. I suppose we’ll have to go about this the legal way.”

Levi flinched. “Doesn’t the legal way take longer.”

Enzo sighed. “Alas, yes. But hey, at least I’m putting all these legal know-how to good use.”

“So we’re going to do this by the book?” Shiloh asked.

“By the book?” Enzo repeated, looking confused.

“Yeah, legally,” Shiloh said.

Enzo frowned. “You mean a hundred percent legally?” When Shiloh nodded, he scoffed. “Oh, God no. No, no, my sweet summer Shiloh. Being a good attorney means using every tool in your arsenal. Even if some of those tools were bought on the black market.”

Shiloh sat back, pondering Enzo’s words.  Levi had no idea what to think about Enzo. If Thomas Mulvaney trusted him, shouldn’t Levi? He already seemed to know so much. About them. Their operation. About Seven’s dad. About the Mulvaney’s.But how? Was Enzo so familiar with their city’s seedy criminal element because he was a defense lawyer or because he was a criminal himself?

Maybe both. It definitely seemed like both.

“What’s the soonest Malachi could be out?” Shiloh asked.

“If I do things the legal way, a week?” Enzo said. “If I grease a few wheels, tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Shiloh gasped. His face suddenly fell. “What happens if Micah finds out that Mal is out of jail?” He turned to Levi. “If he thinks he’s lost his leverage over me then he might come after you. Or Jericho.” His hand went to his mouth. “Or Jericho’s kids.”

Levi ran his hand over Shiloh’s head. “Let us worry about Micah. I know you think he’s this larger than life, impossible to kill, horror movie villain like Jason or Michael Myers. But he’s just a low-rent criminal with a mean streak. If he tries to go up against us, he’s going to lose.”

Shiloh shook his head. “You don’t know that. He’s smart. Scary smart.”

Levi shrugged. “If he’s smart, he’ll be patient, bide his time. If he comes at us full force, he’s going to get smacked right back to his own neighborhood.”

Shiloh’s agitation just seemed to grow. “It’s not just him. He has a whole crew. And yeah, they’re idiots, but they’re mean. They don’t care who they hurt.”

“We have a crew, too, dimples,” Levi assured him.

“Who? The guys I met last night? No offense, but Micah has triple that on his payroll.”

Levi shook his head. “If we go to war with Micah, we’re not going in alone.”

Shiloh looked from him to Seven then to Enzo, who shrugged.

“What does that mean?” Shiloh asked Levi, shaking his head.

Shiloh grinned. “It means we have a secret weapon of our own.”

“Who?”

It wasn’t Levi who answered, but Seven. “He means the Mulvaney’s.”

Shiloh looked two seconds away from tears. “You talk about the Mulvaney’s like they’re the boogyman. Who are they? Why is my brother suddenly so interested in them?” Levi opened his mouth to answer, but Shiloh cut him off with a finger in his face. “And don’t even think about giving me some bullshit answer, Levi Akira. I need you to tell me how a family that’s in the tabloids more than the Kardashians is somehow going to take down my psychopath brother.”

Seven stood, walking to where Shiloh sat, hopping up on the conference room table. “Think of it like a math problem,” he said. “What’s greater than one psychopathic, remorseless killer?”

Shiloh stared at him, then shook his head.

“Seven,” Enzo said. “The answer is seven remorseless, psychopathic killers.”

“You’re saying the Mulvaney family, the one with the model and the gin-swilling pirate gambler-”

“It was whiskey, wasn’t it?” Seven asked Levi.

“Bourbon maybe?”

“You’re telling me they’re murderers. All of them. The whole family,” Shiloh said.

Seven shrugged. “The adults anyway.”

“You can’t be serious,” Shiloh said, breathless.

“Now, do you understand why your brother is more of a nuisance than a threat?” Levi asked.

Shiloh just sat staring, before giving Levi another wondrous look. “The whole family…”