Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1) (36 page)

“No,” I replied, hoping she wouldn’t pry.

In true child-like fashion, she did. “Why not? Don’t you like Angel?”

“I like Angel very much.”

“Then you two should get married. I’ll be your flower girl and Georgie can be the ring bearer.”

Tears stung my eyes. There’d be no wedding, no flower girl, no ring bearer. Not to Angel nor anyone else. It had never bothered me before, but at that moment, it seemed like the most tragic truth of life.

Must be the pain meds.

I took a deep breath and blinked away useless tears. “You’d make a beautiful flower girl, Luci. And Georgie would make a handsome ring bearer.”

“But you’re not going to marry Angel?” Georgio asked, sounding confused.

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, will you marry me, then?”

Okay, that was sweet. And I had no idea what to say.

Luciana had no such trouble. She sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “She can’t marry you. She’s
way
older than you.”

That wasn’t so sweet. Before I could tell her as much, it sounded like fireworks went off outside. All three of us jumped at the noise.

“What’s that?” Georgio asked, rushing to the window.

Shouts followed the fireworks. Then there were more explosions. Only this time I knew they weren’t fireworks. My training kicked in.

“Georgie, get away from the window!” I shouted. “Come here.”

Doors slammed open downstairs. Men shouted. Shots were fired. A woman screamed.

Luciana’s eyes grew round. “It’s the bad guys,” she whispered.

That seemed to ignite something in Georgio. “This way. Hurry!” He motioned us toward the closet.

Luciana grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the closet.

More gunshots rang out. Feet slammed against the stairs. I looked behind us, expecting someone to bust through the door and find us. There was another tug on my hand. Luciana shoved me through a small door in the closet. She followed me, and then closed it up. Darkness engulfed us. I could hear the twins breathing heavily. Or maybe that was me? I couldn’t tell.

“Now we wait,” Georgio whispered. “Dad will find us here.”

“It’s just like hide and seek. You don’t have to be scared,” Luciana added, her voice wavering.

I turned on my phone to give us a little light. We were in some sort of hidden passageway in the wall. It went on past Georgio. I angled my phone, but couldn’t tell how far it continued.

The twins were visibly scared, but also eerily calm. They’d acted so quickly.

“Does this happen often?” I whispered.

Heavy footfalls on the other side of the wall kept them from answering. Luciana was trembling, so I pulled her in for a hug. All three of us held our breath and listened.

“They’re not in here,” a muffled voice said.

“Well, they’ve gotta be here somewhere. Check the rest of the rooms.” Names and directions were called out as the footsteps retreated.

My cell phone rang.

It pealed through the darkness, startling me. I jumped, and then fumbled to silence it. Angel’s face appeared, and then vanished when I hit the button to send him to voice mail.

“You hear that?” someone asked.

“Sounded like a phone.”

“Where?”

More footfalls. They were searching for us.

Georgio grabbed my phone from my hand. He took out the battery and set both phone and battery on the floor. “They can use it to track us,” he whispered. “We have to go.”

He was like a seven-year-old James Bond. His father had prepared him for an attack. Why? Who would break in to a well-guarded mansion, in the middle of the day, and assault a mom and a couple of kids? A memory tickled the back of my mind. Something Angel had said …

There’s been kidnapping attempts and… and money makes people crazy. Paranoid.

Maybe his family wasn’t so paranoid after all.

The three of us held hands so we wouldn’t get disconnected in the dark, and tip-toed through the dark with Georgio in the lead. “This way,” he whispered.

There was a faint click, and then light flooded the space, intensifying my headache. As my eyes adjusted the two of them grabbed my hands and tugged me into a bush. Staying low, we crawled for several minutes, pausing every time a twig snapped, and stopped at the fence.

Loud banging came from the house. Whoever was in there was tearing the place apart. I glanced back before following the twins through a hidden gate. Once we were on the other side, Luciana looked up at me with big trusting eyes and asked, “Which way?”

Sirens blared in the distance. The cavalry was coming to save us. “We wait here for the cops,” I said.

Georgio shook his head. “No cops. This is not a drill.”

What?
“You have drills like this?” I asked.

The look he gave me made me feel like the stupidest person on the planet.

“Right. Of course you do. Who doesn’t?” Building a Lego castle was normal for a seven-year-old. This was not.

“No cops,” Georgio repeated.

Gunshots coming from the back of the house told me we needed to move. I grabbed both their hands, gritted my teeth against the pain in my head, and ran. We continued on for blocks, until Luciana started to lag behind. I didn’t know if we were being followed and didn’t want to take the chance. I picked her up and kept going.

When Georgio and I ran out of steam, I lowered Luciana to her feet and we slowed our pace to a walk. By then, I was lost and couldn’t even tell which direction we’d come from. Part of that was probably from having no peripheral vision. We continued on for hours, mostly traveling down side roads and alleys. My pain medicine wore off and I felt completely disoriented.

“We should get a map,” I suggested, pointing toward a convenience store. Of course, I had no idea what I’d purchase a map with since my purse was still in Angel’s vehicle.

“No. There’s cameras,” Georgio said.

“And?”

He sighed, clearly disgusted with my lack of knowledge. “And the bad guys can take over the cameras and see us.”

Certain he was messing with me, or quoting something he’d heard on television, I started to laugh. But Georgio was serious.

“No they can’t,” I replied.

Stone-faced, he said, “My dad does.”

And that was pretty much the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard a kid say. I tried to dismiss it as something someone had told him to scare him, but every time I walked toward the convenience store Luciana started crying. No crocodile tears, either. She was legitimately panic-stricken about it. My vision was getting worse and my brain felt like mush, but I stayed away from anyplace with security cameras.

My legs went numb from walking, and I knew the kids had to be suffering as well. The temperature dropped with the sun but we trudged on, searching for a landmark we recognized.

It was well past dark when we finally caught a break. I recognized a bus stop and followed it to a coffee shop I’d frequented. We were only a few blocks from someone I could trust.

Feeling hopeful, I urged the kids on.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Angel

B
ONES AND I followed two of Father’s black SUVs to the hospital. As I maneuvered through traffic, I felt my friend’s gaze burning a hole in the side of my face.

“What?” I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer.

No answer.

Markie was dying, someone had just tried to blow up Dante, and I had almost made a deal with the devil. I had no time for his games. “You might as well just spit it out,” I said, not bothering to mask the anger and frustration I felt.

And spit it out he did. “You can’t do this, Angel. It will kill you.”

“Thanks for your concern, but I’m not
that
weak,” I growled.

He chuckled. “Weak. Right. That’s
exactly
what I mean.”

He wasn’t helping my mood. “Well then, what the hell do you mean?”

“Your old man snaps his fingers, and half the city comes to heel like dogs waiting for table scraps. We’re the weak ones, Angel, not you.”

Sure he was screwing with me, I scowled. His expression was serious, though.

“Then there’s you,” Bones continued. “Every day you resist him. Every day you fight.”

I started to object. Resisting and fighting my father would be stupid, and I sure as hell wasn’t stupid.

“Oh you play the game,” Bones said, holding up a hand to stop me. “But it’s different. He hasn’t found your currency… your motivation for playing. Most of these fools, you show them the money or the girls, and they’re all in. None of that shit matters to you. Never has. It still won’t. You make this deal, and you’ll have to commit. You’ll have to stop resisting, and the shit he’ll make you do will eat you alive. More than it already does. And for what? A chance to save Markie? What if she doesn’t make it?”

I understood everything he was saying, but it didn’t matter. “I can’t just sit here and watch her die, Bones.”

He nodded. There were no easy answers, and we were both smart enough to acknowledge when all our options sucked. We rode the rest of the way in silence, following Father’s motorcade into the hospital parking garage.

Dante was in an examination room. He had a gash across his forearm, but was otherwise fine. He watched me with eyes full of suspicion, which both hurt and frustrated me. I’d already said my piece on the matter, so I didn’t bother trying to defend myself again. Father would set him straight eventually. Or not. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if the old man had set up the whole thing. In one genius move, he’d have gotten rid of Dante’s girl, made Dante believe I was a badass, and given the families incentive to unite against the Pelinos since they’d attacked my brother before he was a made man.

Well played, old man.

No. I had to believe Father wouldn’t have risked hurting Dante. At least, I had to hope he wouldn’t.

“We’ll get those bastards,” Father said, patting Dante on the shoulder. We were still waiting in his room for the staff to release him. “The family is preparing. We’ll strike back hard and fast. I promise you they’ll regret this.”

The last time the Vegas families were at war, I was just a child. Father had ordered the women and children to hit the mattresses, so to speak, while he and his crew struck the reigning boss. Too young to know what was going on, I remember hiding in a cabin in the woods. Before Father left us there, he promoted me to “man of the house,” making me promise to watch over the family by any means necessary, showing me the handgun he stored in my nightstand.

“Two in the head, make sure they’re dead,” he said. Then he ruffled my hair and left.

I was holed up in that cabin with Nonna, a pregnant Rachele, Aunt Mona, and Dante for what seemed like an eternity, praying my father would live to come back for us. Each sleepless night, I pressed my face against the window and watched for his return, my hand resting on the nightstand in case the bad guys came to hurt my family. Now my father was the boss being attacked.

“By now, the whole city knows the Pelinos failed. They will need a successful strike—or a really good score—to save face. We can’t let them have that chance. They struck out at my second son, so I will hit their first.”

“Bruno,” I breathed, a sense of dread washing over me. Bruno seemed like the least dangerous of his family. But as the eldest son, his death
would
hit the family the hardest.

Father nodded.

“What do you need me to do?” I asked.

“Get in touch with your team, and find that bastard. I need a location and a plan for how to take him out.”

“Yes sir.” I pulled out my phone and sent a mass text to the guys on my team.

As I hit send, an alarm went off on my father’s phone. He looked down at it and his brow furrowed.

“What is it?” I stood.

“Something’s haywire with the house alarm.” He dialed a number and then put the phone up to his ear. “Tech, why the hell is my house alarm showing as offline? What do you mean it’s been disabled? I got that system because
you
assured me it couldn’t be disabled. How could someone hack into our system? Has Rachele been contacted?”