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SIX YEARS PRIOR
Iguess you could say part of me always knew it would come to this, the blood still tainting the streets serving as a constant reminder that we shared a long, dark history. A mutual hatred between families. Another part of me hoped that Dani and I would be the exception. While the gun presently pressed to my forehead told me just how naïvethatpart had been.
“Look, Mr. R?—”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, boy.”
Spittle bounced off Salvatore Rossi’s lips and splattered across my face with each ragged breath he took. My hands were bound behind my back, my feet chained to the floor so there wasn’t anything I could do to wipe it off.
Truth of the matter was I didn’t want to. I didn’t much care about anything anymore. Not with Dani laid up in some hospital bed, her skull pieced together with nothing more than cadaver bone and prayers. But it was better than watching her bleed out on my front lawn. Even when I knew what bringing her here—home,herhome—would mean for me. I guess I never realizedhow little life meant without her until I was faced with that very real possibility.
Her father didn’t often get his hands dirty, not when he had guys to do that for him. But I was the exception. I was the one who brought his baby girl… what was left of her. To his doorstep. In a goddamn body bag.
Yeah, I knew what it looked like. I knew what he saw when he opened his front door. I recognized the horror in his eyes. The rage too. But I also knew it was the only chance she had for survival. Told my family I’d handle the cleanup. It was my mess, after all. And I couldn’t just drop her off at any bullshit city hospital. She needed the best. My girl deserved the best. And her old man was the only one who could get that for her. So I saidfuck it. I did what I had to do, knowing the consequences.
And those consequences were staring me in the face. In the form of a two-hundred pound, six-foot-something, Italian Don who ateIrish pricks like mefor breakfast, then used what was left of our ring fingers for toothpicks. His tailored Brioni suit was already mottled red with the blood from my broken nose, and my thumb was twisted so far back it was useless.
He’d stopped asking questions hours ago. I could only assume he realized I didn’t have the answers to give 'em. Right now, it was his grief that was driving the blows to my jaw, gut, and groin—whenever he was feeling particularly vicious. Though I could tell he was growing tired, fueled by rage and not much food or water shared between us.
I got it. I really fucking did. Because I hated me too. She told me to be careful. Stressed what a risk this was. Warned me about Junior…
And I never really took any of it serious.
You’re a dreamer, Leo.That’s what she would say. Dani was one too. She had a lot of dreams. Fantasies about leaving this lifeof ours behind. Even when she didn’t want to admit it, I saw the side of her she hid from the rest of the world.
Salvatore was running out of steam. I could feel it in the weight of his blows. They weren’t landing right. I could also see it in the laziness of his gait. He was tired and sloppy. Then there was the tightness of his jaw. The guy was grinding his teeth down to nothing, trying to force himself to expend energy he didn’t have anymore. So it didn’t surprise me when he lifted the barrel to the center of my forehead again. The steel, cold and welcoming against the heat of my bruised skin.
No one really ever talked about the smell of a freshly fired forty-five, how the chemical odor of the nitrate ate up the little hairs in your nostrils. Burned to the point of discomfort. All of which told me this man wouldn’t sit behind his desk and let someone else have the pleasure of pulling the trigger.
“Just tell Dani I lov?—”
51
PRESENT
Iwas watching Dani walk back and forth in front of me, her words spitting out a mile a minute as she tried to explain this whole “mafia war” thing to Zeke. Sounded more like some sort of video game than anything you’d experience in real life… if ya asked me.
I glanced in Zeke’s direction. His face was a shade of green I’d never seen on someone breathing before and his lips were pinched like he was two quick seconds away from losing his lunch and goingExorciston our asses.
Funniest part was I couldn’t tell you what bothered him the most. The prospect of the upcoming bloodbath, the bodily fluids sticking to my girlfriend’s skin like she just spent the evening cracking some fucker’s head open and fingerpainting with whatever she found inside, or the current state of his car. Which honestly wasn’t much better.
We were holed up in another little no-name motel where they didn’t ask questions and only accepted cash. A spot that reeked of hepatitis and desperation. I’d gotten my folks out of town,sent them down to my aunt’s house in Florida. Though I wasn’t sure they were better off with the gators. And none of us had much in the bank to do this shit long term.
My da was a warehouse employee, my ma a homemaker. They had three bucks between 'em. And didn’t know the meaning of the word vacation. Which meant we had a week to sort this shit out. Max. Before the stubborn bastards were back within the city limits and the Mulligans were using them for target practice all over again.
“So, basically, what you’re telling us is that it’s a fucking game of Battleship? Take a shot in the dark and hope for the best? Pray that the other guy is sinking without a raft?” I quirked a brow, and Dani paused in her tracks to shake her head at me.
“I mean, no. But kinda. I guess.” She huffed, her irritation cuter by the minute. “It’s more nuance than that. Think Sun Tzu instead of Hasbro.The Art of War, not Monopoly.”
“Right. Well, I call first dibs on the racecar.” I grinned, and Dani sent me a glare that had nothing on Cyclops. Swear I could feel the heat of her eyes down to my bones.
Zeke seemed not all that amused either. Fucker needed to get his panties straightened out. Being so wound up wasn’t gonna get any of us outta this situation sooner. Especially if he didn’t calm the fuck down before reaching out to his baby sister. If Annie sniffed trouble in the air, the girl would be foaming out the mouth instead of lying low. She had a taste for the dramatics, even when we were kids. So it was no surprise to me when she found herself in knee-deep shit with the mob.
“This ain’t nothing to joke about, MacCullagh,” Dani hissed, and Zeke grinned from where he was standing behind her. “We need guns. A lot of 'em. Whatever firepower we can get on short notice or we’re all as good as dead.”
“Yeah, well, something tells me you already got an idea in mind.” I lifted a questioning brow. I knew better than to let herthreats get under my skin. My girl didn’t do anything without a plan in mind. Even when she was acting on impulse. Some part of her was already scheming, plotting her next move before she had to make it. And this time was no different.
“I do, but you’re not gonna like it.” She shrugged, her arms folding over her chest while she popped out a single hip in obvious defiance.
