The Gun Runner (Mafia Made) (9 page)

“What’s that?”

“Life may never be perfect, but you are,” she said.

I looked at her for a long moment. I’m sure someone could find fault in her, but I couldn’t. I liked that about her.

“And, so are you, Terra.”

So are you
.

Chapter Fifteen

Terra

I was sure my father wouldn’t accept Michael, but I knew deep within my being that surviving without him wasn’t an option. When I was with him, nothing else mattered. When he was away I felt like I was choking, dying a little with each hour that passed, until he returned to my side.

I desperately wanted to talk to my brother, who I believed would be more understanding than my father, but he was out of the country on
business
. Left with the decision to be honest with my family about Michael or simply continue what I was doing and avoid contact with them, I chose the latter.

Michael had become my support system and my family. And I was falling in love with him a little more with each beat of my heart.

I sat anxiously at a bar with Michael, waiting to meet Cap. I was glad the day had finally come, and likened the meeting to a typical man introducing me to his family. From what Michael had said, and from what he hadn’t, it was apparent that Cap was all the family he had.

I noticed a massive man with a military-style haircut and a broad chest as he walked down the aisle toward our table. Dressed in jeans, boots and a T-shirt, he looked like someone even Michael shouldn’t cross. As his eyes fixed on us, I nervously shifted mine away.

Michael stood as the man approached. “Cap, this is Terra. Terra, Cap.”

I stood up and gawked at him in disbelief, hoping the entire time that he didn’t realize I was doing so. He was the type of man other men would describe as huge. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I feel the same way. Ol’ Tripp here is protective of who and what he cares for.”

I glanced at Michael. “Did you tell him about the movie theater?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I wondered what Cap was talking about and then decided maybe he meant Michael was protecting each of us from the other—at least until he was sure. I decided that was probably the case, and grinned at the thought of it.

Cap sat down across from us. “What happened, Tripp?”

I sat down. Michael shook his head and shrugged.

“Can I tell him?” I asked excitedly.

Michael sighed. “Go right ahead.”

Cap leaned forward, resting his muscular arms against the edge of the table, making them seem bigger. “Let’s hear it.”

“Well,” I said. “We went to the movie, and there was a guy in front of us and he was talking on the phone. Michael tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to put it away. He turned around and said ‘I’ll put it away when I’m done, and if you tap me again, I’ll drag you outside and whip your ass.’ So, Michael...”

Cap raised his hand. “Stop right there. I can’t wait to hear how many teeth this guy lost, but not another word until I get something cold to drink. You don’t have any drinks?” he asked, motioning toward us.

“We were waiting on you,” Michael said.

“Lemme guess.” He pointed to me. “Wine?”

I smiled.

“Riesling?”

I glanced at Michael. “I like him already.”

He laughed. “Give him time.”

Cap stood up and pointed at Michael. “Doesn’t matter what foo-foo shit you drink when you’re with her. With me, you’re drinkin’ beer. Be right back.”

I turned to face Michael. “I like him.”

“He’s a damned good man.”

He quickly returned with two beers in one hand and a glass of Riesling in the other. “They’re bringing a bucket of beers and the rest of that bottle of wine.” He handed me the wine, and Michael a bottle of beer. “Okay, sorry for the interruption. In case you forgot, when we last spoke, somebody was gettin’ ready to whip Tripp’s ass.”

He raised the bottle of beer and drank half of it in one gulp. “Well, wet your whistle and get started. I’m dyin’ to hear the rest of it.”

I looked right at Cap and widened my eyes. “Well, he said the ‘whip your ass’ thing, and Michael said ‘hold this’ and handed me the popcorn. Then, he tapped the guy again. Right on the shoulder.”

“Just like the guy told him not to.”

“Exactly,” I said.

“Okay, go ahead.”

“So, when Michael tapped him, he jumped up. When he turned around, Michael karate chopped him in the neck, and he kind of went all limp. And then Michael tossed him out the back door.”

He leaned back and scrunched his nose. “That’s it? No broken arms or busted ankles? No eye gougin’ or nothin’?”

I chuckled. “I wasn’t done.”

“My apologies,” he said. “Please continue.”

“So, we watched the movie and we were going to the car. When we stepped outside, the guy with the phone—only he didn’t have his phone anymore—was outside waiting. And, as soon as he saw us, he pulled a knife and said ‘I’m going to cut you and then I’m taking the Mexican whore home.’”

I paused and took a sip of wine.

Cap’s face contorted. “So there was another girl with you? Some Mexican whore? I must have missed something.”

“No.” I laughed, because I knew he was joking. “He was talking about me.”

“But you’re not Mexican or a whore.”

I raised my glass of wine. “I’m Italian, and I’m a lady.”

“Good goddamned thing I wasn’t there. I would have snapped his fuckin’ neck. I’m sure he got his, though.”

“He did,” I said.

“Okay, so some prick with a knife calls you a Mexican whore.” He tilted his head toward Michael. “Where was Tripp?”

“He tore off his shirt and wrapped it around his arm and told the guy to
bring it
. Or something like that. I think he said ‘you should have gone home.’”

“Back up. He tore off his shirt? Like ripped it into shreds or just pulled it over his head real quick?”

I laughed. “Over the head.”

He pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples. “Just tryin’ to get a mental picture.”

I swung my free hand in the air. “So, the guy swung the knife toward Michael, and then all of a sudden his knife is on the ground and Michael has his arm twisted in a knot.”

He shifted his eyes to Michael. “You give him a speech on bein’ disrespectful to women?”

“Let her tell it,” Michael said.

“He made him apologize, but when the guy didn’t do it right, Michael decided to break his arm.”

Cap glared at Michael. “Got that temper at bay, huh?”

Michael shrugged. “Sounded like I might have dislocated it.”

“Sorry for the wait,” the waitress said. She placed a wine chiller on the table with a bottle of wine in it and a bucket of ice filled with bottles of beer. “Here’s your drinks.”

Cap reached for a beer and gulped down most of it before he placed it in front of him. I finished my wine and refilled the glass.

“And that was it,” I said. “We went back to my house and fell asleep.”

He shrugged and shifted his eyes back and forth between Michael and me. “So, no cops?”

I shook my head. “We left before they got there.”

“Yeah, Tripp don’t take too kindly to guys bein’ rude to women. I don’t either, but sure seems like he’s got in his fair share of fights over it.”

I was intrigued. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, but before I tell you about it, I need to back up. You said you went back to your house and went to sleep.” His soft gaze turned into a glare. “You two are sleepin’ together?”

I looked at Michael.

“Don’t look at him,” Cap growled. “I’m the one askin’ the questions.”

“I uhhm.” I took a sip of wine and shrugged. “We went back and fell asleep.”

He took a quick drink of his beer. “Ain’t what I asked you. You been around Tripp too long, you’re evading the original question. You two are bumpin’ uglies, aren’t ya?”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say yes, because I was proud that we were, but I didn’t want to say anything if Michael hadn’t already told him. Without expressing emotion, he sat and stared, waiting on me to answer.

“I don’t have an ugly,” I said. “And whoever I’m bumping pretties with is none of yours or anyone else’s business.”

He tilted his beer bottle toward me and grinned. “Good answer.”

“So what about Michael defending the honor of women?” I asked. “You were going to tell me a story.”

“I ain’t a good storyteller, but I’ll give it a whirl. There’s a million, but I’m just gonna tell one short one.”

I took a drink of wine and nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

“Which one are you going to tell her?” Michael asked.

“The great almond mystery.”

“Okay,” Michael said.

Almond mystery?

Cap leaned forward, pressed his fist into his palm, and rested his elbows on the table. “So, it was that time of year when it’s kind of winter and it’s kind of spring. One day it’s hot and the next it’s freezin’. And Tripp’s car was filthier’n fuck. In case he didn’t tell ya, he’s a weirdo about havin’ anyone touch it, so we pulled into one of them serve yourself car washes. It’s a four stall joint, but they got buckets blockin’ the entrance in three of the four stalls, so only one stall is open. There’s a dirty as fuck Buick in the stall when we pull in, but it looks like it’s abandoned. So, Tripp pulls in behind it.”

While he took a drink of beer, I wondered what kind of problems a person could find in a car wash, and decided the normal person would find none. Michael wasn’t normal, and from what I could tell, neither was Cap.

“Well, we’re behind this car waitin’ for our turn, and after a minute, it’s apparent there’s two people in it. Two we can see, anyway. And Tripp points toward it and says ‘are they fightin’?’ Well, I have a long look and I say ‘they’re either fuckin’ or they’re fightin’, I can’t tell which.’ And then I seen him raise his hand and slap this chick. And I changed my answer. ‘Fightin’,’ I said.”

I gulped down some wine. “So what happened?”

“Sit back and listen, and I’ll tell ya,” he said with a nod.

“Tripp yanks the car door open, gets out, and goes up to the car and snatches the guy out. Now, I was pretty damned sure Tripp didn’t need any help, and I was finishin’ eatin’ my bag of almonds, so I took my time. That is ’til I seen the dipshit in the backseat gettin’ out.”

“There was another guy in the car? And he didn’t help her?”

“Just settle down and let Ol’ Cap tell the story,” he said.

I grinned. “Okay.”

“So, where was I? Oh, yeah. I’m mindin’ my own business, eatin’ my little bag of jalapeño-flavored almonds, and I glance up. Tripp’s punchin’ the guy who was slappin’ the girl, and up comes this big prick. And, when he got out of the car...” He paused and stepped out of the booth in an exaggerated fashion, taking a long, slow stride out into the aisle. “He just
kept
gettin’ out. Fucker was about six foot fifteen tall.”

I coughed out a laugh and shook my head.

“So, I tossed my almonds on the ground and hustled up there, and Tripp’s slappin’ the first guy around and tryin’ to kick at the second guy. It’s pretty clear this big son-of-a-bitch is gettin’ ready to whip Ol’ Tripp, and I can’t have that. Now, I can see that Tripp’s got his hands full with whippin’ one of these brain surgeons, so I stepped up behind number two and said ‘hey shithead,’ and this prick turns around. Then I blasted him in the nose.”

He widened his eyes. “Guess what he done?”

I shrugged. “Fell down?”

“One woulda guessed. Nope, he spit out a tooth, looked up, and fuckin’ smiled.”

“You’re kidding me?” I gasped.

“Not one bit. Cops said when they got there that he was wacked out on somethin’, but I’ll get to that later. So Tripp’s whippin’ guy number one, and I’m squarin’ off with the tallest man in the world, and the girl gets out. Her clothes are torn, one of her tits is hangin’ out, she’s got a bloody lip, and she’s tryin’ to get dressed. She’s cryin’ and blubberin’ and she starts hollerin’ about these two fucktards tryin’ to rape her.”

“No!” I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand.

He shook his head. “‘Fraid so. So, I go off on this guy and Tripp does the same. Before we know it, we got two guys down on the ground hog-tied, and we’re waitin’ on the cops. Fuckin’ whole herd of cops come screechin’ in the lot a few minutes later, and they take the two dipshits away. Ambulance takes the girl, and a couple cops stay and take our statements. When it’s all over, all I want is what’s left of my bag of almonds. You know how you get to eatin’ somethin’, and nothin’ will satisfy you but that one thing you’re cravin’?”

I grinned. “Yep.”

“Well, they ain’t nowhere to be found. The great almond mystery. Half a bag of my precious nuts, up and disappeared. Shit, I crawled under Tripp’s car, under the two fuckin’ cop cars, all over the damned place just wantin’ my little jalapeño almonds back.”

“Did you find them?”

“Yep. When the cops left.” He chuckled. “They was parked on top of ‘em.”

I reached for my wine. “That’s funny.”

He waved his hand toward me. “Accordin’ to you. They was squished into dust.”

“That sucks. What about the girl? What happened to her? And them?” I asked.

“Well, we was preparin’ to go to court and testify, but the two turds finally pled guilty. We saw the girl at the DA’s office. She was doin’ good. Ends up they hadn’t raped her yet, they were just tryin’ to when we pulled up.”

I smiled to myself and let out a sigh. Michael and Cap had saved a girl from being raped, and to them, it was just
one
of the stories they chose to tell. Most other men probably wouldn’t have noticed what was happening, let alone intervened if they had.

I didn’t
know
what my father and his men did, but if only half of the stories were true, I knew he was an extremely violent man. I lived life sheltering myself from the truth, saying it wasn’t happening, or that I didn’t care to know the details. When I was old enough to date, I swore I would never end up with a man who participated in or condoned violence against others in any way.

It was easy for me to see Michael as being a passive man, because whatever he did was a positive reaction to someone else’s lawless or immoral action. In some respects, he was a vigilante, taking the law into his own hands, only stepping in when no one else would or could. In the end, everything he did was for the good, which was more than I could say for my father.