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“I don’t think she is.” The giant grins. “So here’s how this is going to go. You cooperate and let go of my friend, there. We wait until this wedding is over, then we walk you out of here, no harm, no foul. We let your lady walk.”
He’s taking a gamble to save his dick. No way I’m giving any impression that I care.
Fuck.
Thoughts of Alessia flood into my head. Our little dates, the passion we shared, the relationship I never imagined in a million years. I wonder… when she realizes that I cursed her to save her… will she erect a shrine for me?
I groan thinking of the stupid idea. Yeah right, like she’s going to print out a bunch of pictures from a burner phone and cherish us, telling stories to our kid one day. Fucking pathetic you are, Leandro.
The two other men hover over my table, hands on their pieces. They look less brain-dead than the two in front of me. And I think I recognize one of them. Deangelo Hogtie Frutello. He’s a good hitman, that one. I guess it’d be an honor to get whacked by him.
The bride slips into view again, in the spot my screaming victim tried to block before I broke his fingers. She’s pure; Alessia was right. Like a dancing angel representing so much. I think of Marissa on our special day. It was only a few of us, but she was just as beautiful. Then I think of Alessia… and what we could have been.
Dammit. I grit my teeth and let go of my whimpering victim.
There’s no scenario where I get out of this alive, so I’ll suffer the stalemate until the end.
I nod for one of the men to take the lesser giant to the nurse. “Go run to mommy,” I snarl and kick his chair out, still holding my pistol on the big one.
Deangelo takes his seat confidently, legs spread, dipping his head to better see me.
“Never thought I’d be face-to-face with you, Hook.”
“Apparently a man can’t just enjoy a night off.” I smirk at him, pushing my chair back so I have enough distance to shoot them both if I have to.
The final meal being served is awkward. I have to hide my gun in my blazer, but I raise my eyebrows to the giant, begging him to make a move. He doesn’t. We sit in awkward silence when some of the guests try to get back to their seats. The mobsters politely give them their jackets and bags and shoo them away.
“Gentlemanly. I had the Barones pegged all wrong.” I cackle at my own quip, which makes the other men uncomfortable.
“Listen, Hook. Don Carlo wants to know what brings you to this humble little wedding? Seems quite out the way for a loner prick like you.” Deangelo shifts in his seat. “What concerns me even more… Usually no one gets a glimpse of you, unless seconds before death.”
I arc an eyebrow. “It’s telling that you see me now, isn’t it?”
Messing with them is the best I can do to entertain myself in the hour before the lights go out. I wonder where my love is. Run far away, Sia, and don’t look back. I had to dig the knife. One day you’ll understand, I hope.
“Who sent you?” Deangelo squeezes the table cloth. “Who are you after, really?”
“No one sent me here. I just like to play dress up, Hog. A man of your caliber should surely understand. We’re anthropologists analyzing the wild, at times. Such as this.” I wave my hand to the lavish décor and countless dancing bodies.
“I’ll say it one more time, Leandro. Who’s got the target on their back tonight? Is it me? Juvo, over here. Patsy in the corner? Give us something, and I promise we’ll make it quick.”
“You know damn well you’re wasting your breath.”
“That’s right, you just can’t wait to reunite with your cunt wife,” Juvo – the giant – says.
It takes everything in my power not to pull the trigger and rid him of his balls. But the picture of Sia in my mind is strong. She must remain a figment and get far away from here. An afterthought. Let my prisoners under the shack free and fly somewhere good, like we were supposed to.
Juvo laughs. “I’m starting to think there’s water in that gun you’re holding.”
“Did Carlo put you up to this?” I grin at the giant. “He wants to make sure I act first, huh? So he can declare war on the families in front of an entire crowd.” I shake my finger. “Not going to happen. You see him, and her, and him.” I nod around the room, to guests glancing at us, entirely uncomfortable. “They’ll see who acted first if something goes down. I have to hand it to you, though, Juvo. It takes a brass set to take a bullet for someone who doesn’t have the balls to face me himself.”
“He’s the boss, you order-less mutt. Some of us have respect for the Cosa Nostra. Not everyone runs around pretending to be DOG the Bounty Hunter.”
“I’ll be damned if those are the last words I hear on this earth.” I make the men laugh more than Juvo does.
We sit through the dessert hour awkwardly, and as guests start to depart, I count my lucky stars that Alessia hasn’t tried to come back. I hope she’s in a cab, or in the suite, somewhere safe.
When it finally dwindles to the staff sweeping up confetti and a sticky, alcohol ridden floor, I know it’s time.
