Operation Wolf: Eli (Wolf Elite Book 2) Read online

  Oh yeah, someone is definitely getting laid tonight. And, to my eternal frustration, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.

  “Hey.” Gunner appeared at my side, his bride nowhere in sight. He clapped me, his best man, on the shoulder. “What are you doing, skulking in the corner here, bro? You should be out there, having fun with the rest of us.”

  I shook my head. “I had my share of fun at the bachelor party last night,” I confessed with a crooked grin. “Right now, I just feel like relaxing.”

  Gunner’s raised eyebrow told me he wasn’t buying it. “I don’t know, Eli. This isn’t really like you. Normally, you’re the life of the party. But here, you are hiding out with a glass of champagne. A drink I know you hate, by the way. Why aren’t you enjoying yourself as usual?”

  Sighing, I looked out at the dance floor, my eyes searching for my friends. Hunter, ever the billionaire playboy—his father owned a bunch of oil refineries in Texas—was dancing with two women. His handsome face was flushed, and his hair had already been tousled by female fingers. I had no doubt Hunter would have both women in his bed tonight, possibly even at the same time.

  Jordan, a bit more conservative, only had one woman—a bridesmaid, if I wasn’t mistaken—twirling on his arm, but he didn’t seem put out about it in the least. Matt had foregone the dance floor altogether and set up shop, running a game of blackjack at one of the banquet tables and likely making a killing. He was a professional poker player, after all. But even though Matt wasn’t out there dancing with the rest of them, he had a gorgeous blonde in a white dress hanging on his arm.

  “Look,” I muttered, setting my glass of champagne—Gunner was right; I didn’t like it—on the tray of a passing waiter, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. It’s nothing to do with you or the guys, and I don’t want you to worry about it. Go to your beautiful bride,” I said, gesturing toward Celine, who was currently dancing with her father.

  “I see,” Gunner said slowly. “Anything I can do to help?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe once, but it’s too late for that now.”

  Since Gunner had now married into the Cooper family, it meant he had access to a shit-ton of money. Money I might have considered borrowing to pay off Ian’s debt if I’d thought it would help. But I knew I couldn’t simply buy my way out of my contract, not after being more than a year into it already. The Outfit had me right where they wanted me, and if they had anything to say about it, I would stay there for the rest of my life.

  No, I couldn’t involve Gunner or anyone else in this mess. It was something I was going to have to solve on my own.

  “What do you mean?” Gunner asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just . . . I’m helping out an old friend.” I sighed. “I really appreciate your concern, but this is something I’m dealing with on my own.”

  “All right,” Gunner conceded. “I respect that. But, really, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. You can call me anytime.”

  I smiled. “You’re a good friend, Gunner.”

  Gunner chuckled. “I’d do anything for you, man. You know that. Anyway, I’m going to go steal my bride back from my father-in-law,” he boomed, moving off toward the dance floor. “Try to have a good time, okay? Leave the worries for another day.” Gunner paused, winking. “And there are plenty of women here to help distract you.”

  I forced a smile as Gunner turned and walked toward Celine. It was true that a lot of women were available tonight and equally true that, at this rate, I was going to be the only man in the wedding party not getting laid tonight, but I felt no shame about it. If I could, I’d gladly bury myself between a woman’s legs to forget my troubles for a while . . . But every time I looked at one that way, I couldn’t help but see Olivia’s auburn locks and beautiful, sparkling eyes or remember the feel of her smooth skin beneath my fingers or see just how damn cute she was when she smiled, her dimples indenting her perfectly oval face.

  No, going to bed with another woman wouldn’t help me forget my problems. It would only serve to remind me of everything I’d truly lost.

  CHAPTER 3

  Eli

  IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT by the time I opened the front door of my apartment, lugging in my suitcase behind me. The stench of liquor instantly hit my nostrils along with the smell of weed and old sweat, and I grimaced, kicking the door shut behind me.

  “Ian!” I yelled for my roommate, anger welling up inside me. “Ian, where the fuck are you?”

  “Hey, man.” Ian stumbled out of his bedroom, his sandy hair sticking up every which way and three days’ growth of stubble on his face. “How was the party?”

  “It wasn’t a party. It was a wedding,” I growled, storming over to Ian and catching my friend by the jaw. My anger grew as I looked into his bloodshot eyes. “Stoned and wasted. You’re a real damn winner, you know that?”

  Tears welled up in Ian’s eyes, and he pushed my hand away. “Don’t start on me,” he choked, staggering away. “It’s not my fault I lost the rest of the money. That asshole dealer is a cheater.”

  I groaned. “You went gambling again?” Part of me knew I shouldn’t have been surprised. “What the fuck, Ian?”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Ian slumped down onto the couch and put his head in his hands. “I wasn’t going to, I swear. But Sean needed a ride, and—”

  “I told you to stop hanging out with those assholes,” I growled. “How the fuck are you ever supposed to get clean if you keep letting them drag you back down into the shithole?” I stormed over to Ian and shook him by the shoulders. “Don’t you want to be better than this?”

  “I’m sorry,” Ian cried again, tears running down his face.

  Once, those tears would have elicited pity from me. Now, I only felt disgust. I’d seen them too many times. Ian always got emotional when he got drunk, especially after losing all his money. It was an endless cycle I was beginning to lose hope of ever breaking.

  “You’re not sorry. You’re pathetic,” I barked, shoving Ian away from me. “I’m guessing this means you don’t have any rent money?” I glanced to the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall; even from across the room, I could see it with my enhanced eyesight. It was the first of July, which meant I had only until the end of the week to pay the rent.

  “No.”

  “Great.” I let out a gusty sigh.

  I stood there for a long moment, studying my friend, trying to find any vestiges of the happy-go-lucky boy I’d run around the streets with. But that boy was long gone now, drowned in alcohol, drugs, and debt.

  “I’m giving you three days to come up with the rent money,” I finally said.

  Ian looked up at me through bleary eyes. “What?”

  “You heard me,” I hissed. “Or your ass is out on the street.”

  “What?” Ian jumped to his feet, some of the unsteadiness leaving his eyes as real panic set in. “You can’t do that. I don’t have any way to come up with that money. I’ll be homeless! You—”

  In an instant, I had Ian up against the wall with his dirty white T-shirt balled up in my fist. Ignoring Ian’s foul stench, I leaned in close until our noses were nearly touching. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do, you bastard. For over a year, I’ve supported and tried to help you, and this shitbag”—I shook Ian by the collar—“right in front of my eyes is all I have to show for it. Get the money, or get the fuck out. Your call.”

  I released Ian, who collapsed to the floor, sniveling again.

  “Please don’t do this,” he cried, his eyes on the carpet now, obviously unable to look me in the face. “Please.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry I ever agreed to take on your debt to the Outfit,” I sneered. Then I turned away, leaving Ian sobbing in the living room.

  * * *

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  I groaned, pulling my pillow tightly over my head and squeezing my eyes shut. I didn’t know where the hell that god-awful sound was coming from, but
I wanted to take a bat to it and pulverize it until there was nothing left. I’d been having such a good dream. A dream where Olivia and I were sitting beneath a tree in the grass, my head in her lap, as she gently ran her fingers through my hair. I twined my fingers with her free hand and was just leaning up to kiss her soft, luscious lips—

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “Fuck!” I sat up, glaring at the clock on my nightstand. Then I blinked as I saw that it read three p.m. Holy shit. I slept the entire afternoon away? I must have been more tired and jet-lagged than I’d thought.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “All right, all right,” I grumbled, rolling over to grab my cell off the nightstand. “Eli.”

  “Ah, so he lives! For a while there, I thought maybe your plane had crashed, and you never made it back.”

  “Nick.” I stifled a growl. I knew it wasn’t unreasonable for the capo to call me in the middle of the afternoon, but I wished his voice weren’t the first thing I had to hear when I woke up. “My apologies for not checking in.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that, sonny,” Nick replied jovially. “How was your trip to New York? Did you get to see the sights?”

  “It was good, sir,” I declared politely. “A beautiful wedding.”

  “Well, that’s just nice.” Nick cleared his throat. “Look, I know that you technically still have the day off, but would you do me a favor and get that slugabed roommate of yours up and bring him with you down to the Green Mill at seven o’clock? I’ve got a job for the both of you.”

  Dread filled me, even as my inner beast stirred in excitement at the prospect of more bloodshed. Ever since the Outfit had decided to make me an enforcer, it had been harder and harder to control my animal. The wolf within me always strained to be at the forefront during bloodshed, and more than a few times, I’d ended up savaging or killing targets. My reputation had earned me the nickname The Beast on the streets, and I was now one of the most feared enforcers in the Outfit.

  “Do I need to bring anything special with me?” I asked carefully, trying to get more information about the job out of Nick.

  “Oh no, don’t worry about any of that,” Nick said with another laugh. “I’m not sending you boys out for that tonight.”

  “You’re not?” I asked, relief sweeping through me at the thought.

  “Nope. You boys are going to pick up a package instead.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Eli

  “I LOVE COMING TO this place,” Ian gushed as we entered the Green Mill.

  I ignored him as I pressed a handful of bills into the bouncer’s hand for allowing us to skip the line curving around the block—not that I needed to since we were feared, but I found it was always best to cultivate goodwill where I could.

  “Just the idea of sitting in the same bar as Al Capone, sipping whiskey or rum, now that’s fucking awesome!”

  “Shut up,” I growled, grabbing Ian by the elbow and steering him through the smoky, crowded interior to one of the half-circle, green-upholstered booths near the stage.

  The jazz band was playing “Rain Dance” by Herbie Hancock with considerable gusto, and the place, as usual, was packed to the gills.

  “You’re not having a drop of alcohol tonight. Do you hear me? We’re sitting down, getting the info on the job, and getting the fuck out. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Ian retorted sulkily.

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Between the smoke and the dim lights, it was usually extremely difficult to navigate the place once it was in full swing, but my superior senses guided us to Nick’s table without a problem.

  “Hey, boys!” Nick stood up from the table and opened his arms. He was a stocky man with a swarthy complexion, receding hairline, and blue-gray eyes that could turn from a happy sparkle to cold steel in a nanosecond. “Really glad you both could make it down here,” he said as I dutifully embraced him, as if it had been a request rather than an order.

  He pulled back and gestured to the tall man still seated in the booth. He looked like a lawyer, dressed in a pin-striped suit with a hat that did a decent job of covering what I knew to be a balding scalp. Like Nick, he too had a swarthy complexion, but his eyes were shrewd, and he shared none of his capo’s joviality.

  “This here is Jack Carideo, whom you might know already,” Nick explained. “I answer to him, which therefore means you answer to him. Understand?”

  “Understood,” Ian and I said in unison, respectively inclining our heads.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” Ian added.

  I fought the urge to kick the sycophantic bastard.

  “Sit down, boys,” Carideo ordered, sounding bored.

  We sidled in on the far side of the booth, trying to maintain a respectful distance without also having to touch each other, not an easy task in a semicircular booth.

  “You want anything to drink?” He signaled the bartender.

  “No, thank you,” I interjected quickly before Ian could open his mouth. “My friend and I have to stay sharp tonight.”

  I stomped on Ian’s foot beneath the table to silence him, and Ian yelped.

  “Yes, sir,” Ian babbled, shooting me a sulky glare. “We’ve got work to do tonight.”

  Carideo simply nodded and then turned to Nick. “I’ll let you do the talking, Nick.”

  Nick nodded and then pulled out a small photograph and slid it across the table. “This is the target.”

  Shock slammed into my gut like a physical blow as I stared down at Olivia’s photo. “We’re going after Sal Giordano’s daughter?” I asked carefully, pressing my foot down on top of Ian’s sore one as a warning for him to stay quiet. Ian knew about some of my past with Olivia, and if the bastard blew this for me, I would have to kill him. “I thought he was one of us.”

  “He has been with us for a long time,” Carideo answered coldly, “but Sal’s gotten a bit too greedy and sloppy these last couple of years. The higher-ups set him up with running casinos out of South America, and the bastard’s been refusing to share his profits with the Outfit. We’re hoping to make him reconsider . . . for the sake of his daughter.”

  “I see.” I glanced down at the photograph again, wondering how the hell I was going to get her out of this mess. I knew if I didn’t do the job, someone else would just be sent in my place. So I had to do something . . . but what? “I’m surprised you picked me for this job, sir. I’ve never done a kidnapping for the Outfit before.”

  “Maybe not, but as I understand it, you spent some time with Sal’s daughter as a kid,” Nick said, leaning forward on the table. “In fact, you live in the same apartment complex, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I bit out, unable to keep the stiffness from my voice.

  “Excellent.” Nick bared his teeth in a sharklike grin. “That makes you perfect for the job. Now, as far as I know, the girl’s out of town, but she should be back tomorrow night. As soon as she gets in, I want the two of you to snag her—no muss, no fuss—and bring her here.” He pulled out a map and circled one of the seemingly abandoned warehouses the Outfit owned under a fictitious name. “Any questions, gentlemen?”

  “No, sir,” Ian croaked.

  “Crystal clear,” I added.

  “Good.” Nick slid the photo back to his side of the table and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “This is a final test for you, Eli,” he said. “I’ve been holding out on having you promoted to capo for a while, but if you do this job right, I’ll put your name in and get you running with a new crew.”

  Fuck.

  “Thank you, sir.” I inclined my head, trying to hide the fact that I was seething at Nick’s machinations. We both knew that, as a capo, it would be almost impossible for me to ever leave the Outfit. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

  “Yeah, well, I always look out for my own, don’t I?” Nick smiled broadly and then stood up, signifying the meeting was over.

  Ian and I followed suit, exchanging the proper good-byes and backslaps wit
h Nick.

  “Just remember,” Nick said in my ear before I left, “I’ll reward you well if you do a good job. But if you fuck this shit up . . . you’ll wish you were dead.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Eli

  “SO, WHAT THE HELL do we do now?” Ian’s question echoed the one that had been spinning around and around in my head for the last fifteen minutes.

  I simply tightened my hands on the steering wheel and ignored him.

  Ian wasn’t going to be of any help in this situation, and I would have to figure out a way to sideline him until I could come up with a solution.

  “Hey.” Ian’s voice grew more insistent. “I said, what the hell do we do now?”

  I glanced over at Ian, who was staring at me, his arms crossed over his seat belt. His eyes were shrewd and clearer than I had seen them in quite a while.

  “We’re going to do the job, of course,” I declared, returning my eyes to the road. “Like we always do.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Ian snapped, surprising me. “I know you’d never let anything like that happen to Olivia. Tell me what the plan is. I’ll help you.”

  I laughed bitterly. “Why should I have any confidence that you won’t do anything except fuck it up?” I said, making a sharp right turn that plastered Ian up against the passenger door. “With my luck, you’d end up running your mouth to the capo and get me killed.”

  “I’d never snitch you out!” Ian insisted. There was silence in the car for a long moment, and then he added, “I know I’ve been an all-around shitty person. The drinking and the gambling . . . I know you’ve come pretty close to just tossing me out the window a couple of times, especially last night. And what you said got me thinking. I don’t want the last memories of our friendship to be of me sitting on the living room floor, bawling like a baby and stinking like damn weed. I want to do something good. I want to help you.”

  I turned to stare at Ian incredulously. “Are you straight right now?” I asked, skeptical.