Page 294 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

John nodded. “Ride or die, right?”

“Since the days we were fucking born, John.”

Yep.

It wasn’t long before the damn jail guard came around to knock his baton against the metal table to signal it was time to wrap up the visit. John didn’t know if that was some kind of shit the jail had worked out with the detectives or not, but they didn’t allow Andino’s visitors to linger for too long.

Mostly because the bastards couldn’t stay too close. Certainly not close enough to overhear their conversations—the man was allowed privacy, after all, even if said man was a fucking criminal in jail on suspicion of murdering a handful of people with a simple explosive device.

“Tell my wife—”

John looked at Andino, noting the way his words cut off. “What? I’ll pass whatever along. I know taking your calls upsets her.”

So was the way with women married to a man like them. Those ladies fought tooth and nail for their men’s freedom, but at the end of the day, they were still women looking down a long, hard road that might just lead them straight to hell.

It was a big undertaking.

It wasn’t for the faint of heart.

“I was going to say you could tell her to relax,” Andino said, grinning a little, “but I don’t think you could handle Haven in one of her moods. She’s not like Siena, you know?”

“Definitely not as mild-mannered and sweet, no.”

Andino smirked. “She can be. You just have to stroke her the right—”

“Thanks for that, but no thanks.”

His cousin’s laughter lit up the visitation area. “Tell her I love her, man.”

“Will do, Andi.”

It was the best a man in this life could offer to a woman he loved. His faith, and undying loyalty. He could hope for forever, but promising it was never really a guarantee he could keep. She could share his life, but John wasn’t sure the life was ever really theirs to actually have.

“I’ll be seeing you around,” John said, fixing his Armani blazer as he stood.

No goodbyes.

Those were too final.

“Of course you fucking will.”

John was collecting the items he had been asked to hand over coming into the jail when a familiar detective saddled in beside him. He only knew who the detective was because the guy was giving his best effort to put Andino behind bars for a twenty to life sentence. He was also the same asshole that had been the one to release John as he taunted him about his cousin.

He shoved his phone, wallet, and a roll of cash into his pants pocket, all the while, ignoring the detective. He wasn’t speaking first. Made men didn’t talk to cops of any sort if they could help it.

“No greeting for me today?” Detective Rosencauld asked with a shit-eating grin. “Not even a go fuck yourself for good measure, John?”

“What do you want?”

John checked the time on his watch, and then headed for the entrance of the jail. Rosencauld followed close behind at the same time, never missing a step with John. It was both amusing and annoying.

“Your visit with Andino didn’t last long. Your cousin didn’t have orders to give today, or what?”

“I don’t take orders from Andino,” John replied, opening the doors and heading out into the mid-October day.

Taking over his own organization as a boss meant John answered to only himself, which was something he hadn’t realized he needed in the grand scheme of things. It was simply easier when he was the one calling the shots for his own people.

Not that the Calabrese fools made it easy.