Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1) (16 page)

“It’s all so beautiful,” Markie breathed.

I followed her gaze to the lights of the strip and saw something different. Connections, money, ties, some buildings would welcome me, and some would call my presence a sign of disrespect. I knew the managers, the back door operations, and the family who got a cut from each one. My father’s world called to me through neon signs and dancing lights, reminding me where I belonged. Looming and confining, there was nothing beautiful about it.

“Look at the stars,” Markie whispered.

At that moment, I didn’t want to think about the city or the stars. I pressed closer to Markie and breathed in the coconut fragrance of her hair. Something soft and crooning played over the speakers. I touched the soft fabric of her T-shirt, locking the moment into all my senses. Bones and Ariana returned, carrying drinks for all four of us. I handed my phone to a stranger and the four of us posed for a picture against the backdrop of the city lights.

“We’re nearing the top,” the announcer said over the speakers. “Starting the countdown from twenty, nineteen, eighteen.”

“I love this so much,” Markie said. She grabbed her sister’s hand, and then mine. As our fingers intertwined, little electrical jolts danced up my arm toward my chest.

“Thank you, Angel,” She flashed me another dimpled smile.

“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…”

My brain screamed at me to pull away from her. Just hours ago I had broken a guy’s fingers. What if someone came after Markie for revenge? Her fingers felt so thin and delicate between mine. How long could I keep her safe from my family? Sooner or later she’d figure out who my father was, and she’d hate me for the things he did. The things I sometimes did. But by then she’d know too much, and if she didn’t accept us, the old man would get rid of her. I needed to let her go.

Not tonight.

I wanted this. I needed it. Her hand felt like a lifeline to everything clean and good about humanity. I stared into her bright, blue eyes and joined in the countdown.

“Ten, Nine, Eight…”

We were almost at the top of the High Roller, but I’d already fallen.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Angel

B
Y THE TIME Bones and I dropped Markie and Ariana off that night, I knew I was royally screwed. Bones knew it, too. He didn’t say as much, but he didn’t have to. I could tell by the way he frowned at me when we got back in the car.

“I know, I know, One Nut Brizio. Got it. Just give me a minute, and let my brain clear up so I can actually think.”

“If she affects you like that, why don’t you just stay away from her? Why play with fire?” he asked.

I stared at the road, trying to put my feelings into words. I couldn’t think about anything but how incredible Markie was. But, nobody was perfect, and if I spent more time with her, her imperfections would come out. I needed a way to explain that to Bones.

“I don’t know. It’s like… remember when you were hooked on those lemon bars from that bakery by Caesars?”

Bones eyed me. “Lemon crack bars. They were the shit.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, and you were a fiend for them.”

“Angel, you don’t understand. Buttery crisp shortbread; subtly sweet curd filling.” Bones licked his lips. “Perfection. Damn, I miss those bars.”

Freakin’ foodie.
“Right. How’d you break the addiction?”

He looked thoughtful. “I didn’t. They did. They got a new baker who didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Made the shortbread soggy and the filling too sweet. Haven’t been back since.”

“Exactly,” I replied.

Bones raised an eyebrow.

“There is no perfection, Bones. I don’t know this girl, so she looks damn good right now. But I know she’s gotta have a deal. Everyone does. I just need to hang with her long enough to see what that is. Then I can forget about her. You know?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think I get it. This broad’s your lemon crack bar and you need a new baker.”

I chuckled, realizing how stupid that illustration sounded.

Bones joined me, his deep laugh shaking the vehicle. “You know how messed up this is, right? A broad catches your attention and you’re hoping she’ll morph into a psycho bitch.”

He was right. I was losing my godforsaken mind.

Bones laughed himself out, and then he grew serious. “This can be settled quick and easy, you know? Run a check and shine a spotlight on all her crazy.”

I stopped for a light. “No. I’m gonna check her out, but I’m going to do it the organic way.”

“You’re just makin’ shit up now, aren’t you?” he asked.

I retrieved the business card Markie had given me from my pocket, passing it to Bones.

He studied the card for a second before asking, “What the hell’s this?”

“It’s where Markie will be volunteering. Do you know anyone who has a contact at this place?”

He cocked his head. “I got people in the casinos, the strip clubs, restaurants, government offices. I even got contacts in old folks homes thanks to Nonna. But I don’t have anyone in the orphanage scene.”

“I need to get approved to volunteer without them running my information,” I said. “Maybe a healthy donation to the cause would help?”

“You want to volunteer here? With kids? Angel, you got some cool little siblings, but orphans aren’t like that. They got issues. The kind of issues that land them behind bars serving twenty-to-life. You get what I’m saying?” Bones asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. You’re saying you’re afraid of kids. Now can you bribe this orphanage so I can prove what an upstanding citizen I am and get Markie’s number, or what?”

“This is all about getting the broad’s phone number? Seriously man, now I know you’ve lost your mind. We can have her number in seconds.”

“And have her think I’m some stalker? No. She has to give me her number. Can you get me in or not?”

Bones studied the business card for a few more seconds before pocketing it. “Yeah, man. This is nuts, but I’ll see what I can do.”

I didn’t get much sleep Wednesday night, so Thursday was brutal. One of the self-checkout terminals my team had picked up from Renzo was waiting for me in the center of my office. The seventeen-inch touchscreen monitor was the first thing I salvaged. I started disassembling the body, and activated a beast of a tracking device. Tech jammed the signal while I fried the tracker, bumping my head and slicing my hand open in the process. Once inside, I found a sixteen-gig DDR memory stick and an octa-core CPU. All-in-all, not a bad load. After my team dissected the rest of them, a decent tech fence would be able to fetch Renzo at least two large for the parts. I was bandaging up my hand when Bones reminded me that we had an appointment at the shooting range.

The range was operated by a friend of the family who not only allowed us to bring in our own handguns, but also gave us free rein to fire everything they had. We checked into the VIP room and once we brushed up on our pistols, we tried out the M4, the M249 S.A.W, the Remington 700 sniper, the Beretta M9, and the Tommy gun. Of course we had to try the Tommy gun. How could we not? Bones and I spent the afternoon competing to see which of us could destroy the most targets. By the time we grabbed dinner and headed home, my arms felt like jelly. I was so ready for bed that I even resisted the urge to drive by Markie’s apartment to see if I could catch a glimpse of her.

The next day, Bones and I made it to the office early. I went back to the self-checkout terminal in the middle of my floor, while Bones scurried off to do whatever he did when I was in Geekland, as he liked to call it. By the time he brought me lunch he’d scheduled an appointment with the orphanage director for three p.m. We cut out of work early, suited up, and strolled into the joint like we had money to throw around. And when we threw that money around, the director’s eyes went wider than silver dollars. He was too busy counting the bills to even ask me to fill out an application.

“You’re sure it won’t be a problem for us to stop by every now and then? We’d like to make sure our contribution is being put to good use.” Bones asked.

“That’s a perfectly reasonable request, and the children will benefit from spending time with upstanding male role models like yourselves,” the director replied, sliding the cash into a drawer.

I wondered when money had become a sign of good character, but held my tongue. The meeting couldn’t have gone better if I’d scripted it, and I didn’t want to screw it up now. By the time we left the director’s office, I was ready to cash in on my end of the deal and get Markie’s phone number. I marched up to the front desk and asked for her.

The lady behind the desk nodded. “Yeah, I know Markie. She’s the new volunteer. The kids really like her. She was here earlier, but went home with a migraine.”

Feeling completely let down, I thanked her and turned to leave.

A little black kid holding a basketball blocked my path. His shorts and tank top looked about two sizes too big for him, and his sneakers had a hole in the toe. He dribbled the ball a couple of times and then cocked his head to the side and studied me. He snorted, clearly unimpressed. The kid had to be about ten, but packed at least twenty years of attitude.

“You know Markie?” he asked.

The little punk needed to mind his own damn business, but since I wasn’t trying to get kicked out of the orphanage, I nodded. “Yeah, she’s a friend.”

The boy looked from me to Bones and snorted again. “Yeah right.”

What the hell?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Markie’s tough. She’s a baller and she don’t take no shit. You? You brought your bodyguard into an orphanage. What are you scared of, rich boy?”

I had to hand it to the kid, he had a point.

“I’m smart, not scared. And how do you know I’m not a baller?”

He tossed me the ball and shrugged. “Only one way to find out. Prove it.”

I caught the ball, barely. But hey, I hadn’t been expecting it. I could shoot hoops. Bones’s shoulders shook, and I knew my friend was trying not to laugh. I hesitated, wondering what he knew that I didn’t. Besides, I didn’t have time to teach the little punk a lesson. If we left now, we could take Markie some flowers and a get-well card.

“That’s what I thought,” the kid sneered. “Just another stick in a suit.”

I’d been in the place less than ten minutes and had paid one guy off and had another challenging me. Turns out that Markie’s world wasn’t too far from my father’s after all. Never one to turn down a challenge, I tilted my head toward Bones and asked, “What do you think? We got time to straighten this kid out?”

Bones removed his jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He flexed and cracked his neck. Then he leveled a stare at the kid and said, “There’s always time to teach manners.” He stepped forward.

The kid’s eyes bugged out.

Hiding my laugh, I held out a hand to stop Bones. “Save it for the court, big guy. Where is your court anyway?”

The kid pointed to the north side of the building. “That way.”

“Cool. Bathroom?” I asked.

Still keeping an eye on Bones, the kid pointed in the opposite direction. “Down that hall. First door on the right.”

I tossed him the ball. “Go find a few of your little friends and meet us in the gym in ten minutes.”

“But you’re wearing suits.”