“Don’t be nervous,” Fort says. He flashes a wicked smile. “We’re not as scary as we look.”
“Unless you get off on being afraid,” adds Getty, nudging his younger brother out of the way. He leans way too far into my personal space and drops his voice to a whisper. “Then we can be fucking terrifying, Cecilia. What do you think of that?”
They are trying to rattle me. They are succeeding.
But I didn’t grow up in a house full of rowdy brothers and learn nothing. Keeping my head up, battling the urge to cower, I cross my arms and wait for their juvenile antics to stop.
I’m keenly aware that Julian is watching me but I’m too busy staring Getty down to glance his way.
Tye keeps cracking up in the background. It’s possible he’s high.
Fort gets bored first and takes a long look at the sky. “Shit, if I don’t get dinner soon I’m gonna start eating this luggage.”
Getty lifts Louisa’s carrier in the air. “Got some fresh meat right here, little brother.” He smirks at me, awaiting some outrage or at least a glare. He gets neither.
Tye yawns and stretches. “Then let’s move this party out of here already.” He starts rolling my suitcase away.
Angelo finally looks up from his phone and starts walking back to the plane. “See ya,” he says to me. “Keep us updated. The old man will want to know how it’s going.”
BEG YOUR PARDON?
“You’re LEAVING?” I can’t keep my voice from squeaking on the last syllable.
Angelo turns around and shoots me a perplexed look. “I’ve got shit to do. The pilot’s dropping me off in Vegas.”
I just assumed he’d be sticking around, at least for a little while.
Nah, not even close.
He’s just going to leave me here all alone with these…these…MEN.
This shouldn’t be a shock. I mean, he’s Angelo. He sucks. But having a shitty brother around is better than having nobody at all on my side.
Too bad Angelo couldn’t care less. He’s dumped his freight. His mission is complete. He has zero qualms about depositing his only sister into the arms of a platoon of cowboy-hatted strangers with Mafia pinky rings.
Julian clears his throat. I could be wrong, but the sound comes across as angry. Yet when he speaks, his tone is mild.
“You ought to stay at the ranch,” he says to Angelo. “We’ve got plenty of room and I’m sure your grandfather will want to know that Cecilia is comfortable.”
Angelo rolls his eyes. “She’ll be fine. But I can’t deal with the stench of cow shit. So this isarrivederci,folks.”
With a parting belch, Angelo marches over to the plane and takes the steps two at a time, disappearing through the open door within seconds. He’s such a colossal prick that I can’t imagine how we emerged from the same gene pool.
Only Julian remains beside me. The rest of the Tempesta brothers have paused roughly thirty feet away, out of earshot. Getty mutters something to Tye, who convulses with fresh laughter. Fort shifts his weight, parks a hand on his hip and scowls over the delay.
Two gleaming black pickup trucks are parked on the tarmac. And for the first time I notice we’ve got company. Closer to the terminal building, a pair of men wearing sunglasses and dark clothing stand guard beside a high end SUV. The look of them and the manner in which they tensely survey the surroundings rings all kinds of alarm bells in the recesses of my memory.
I’ve been looking at men like this since I was a child. They are Mafia soldiers, likely here to make sure there’s no trouble as I get handed off. It’s an uneasy reminder that the reach of the Mafia isn’t confined to east coast cities no matter how much Hollywood prefers shootouts in gritty urban settings.
And the Tempestas?
They aren’t simply wealthy cattle ranchers. Even my grandfather used to utter Cassio Tempesta’s name with fear and respect.
The sense that I’ve walked right into a den of wolves intensifies.
I’m not delusional. I’ll never overpower one wolf, let alone a pack. Turning on the tears and pleading for mercy on Gabriel’s behalf will only result in contempt and pity.
Gabriel’s chances depend on my ability to appease the Tempestas. One word from them and he’ll be hunted again. He won’t survive that. And I won’t survive losing my twin.
