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I scanned the restaurant, snarling when I found him. “He’s been hit. We do not leave without him.” There was no time to waste. I calculated the next moves of the two assassins who’d taken hiding positions. Then I stood, firing off a full eight shots into the hostess stand, immediately grabbing a second ammunition magazine and slapping it in.
“Look out!” Cayman knocked me to the floor again, popping off three rounds in rapid succession, hitting the second bastard in the chest. Then we both scrambled toward Ralph. “I got him!”
I helped pull the injured man to his feet, Cayman wrapping Ralph’s arm around his neck. He’d been hit in the chest as well, blood already soaking his shirt. This time, I covered Cay as we struggled to reach the front door.
My soldier was down, his vacant eyes staring up at the waning light in the sky. “Fuck.” Sadly, there was no time to gather his body. I could only assume my other man had been killed as well. I raced toward the SUV, throwing open the back door then turning and crouching, popping off one more round as another assassin rushed out from the shadows. “Get him inside!”
“Come on, boss. We don’t know how many more of them there are.” Cayman yanked me away from the sidewalk, pushing me in through the open door, jumping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine.
As he roared off, the tires screeching, I made a promise to track down the bastard who’d hoped to exterminate the Don of New York.
The fuckers would die.
CHAPTER 11
Francesco
Normal.
The day was perfect, hardly a cloud in the sky. The weather was warm but not oppressive as it usually was in the middle of July. And the light breeze provided not only a series of tickling sensations but wafting scents of hamburgers and steaks on the grill. There were at least three dozen adults, only a few soldiers watching out for any additional attacks, and a solid two dozen children having the time of their lives.
Max and Raleigh had pulled out the stops for my niece’s birthday party, the entire backyard decorated in shades of pink and purple, the little girl’s favorite colors. There were tables everywhere, the festive coverings depicting the Little Mermaid and Pocahontas. I studied the four ponies that had been brought in, more appreciative of the often strange duties the loyal landscaper had to deal with on occasion.
By all accounts, the event was nothing more than a happy event where the greatest anxiety was if the birthday girl would enjoy her cake and party.
However, those of us in the family knew that at any time, an attempt at ending the beautiful scene could occur. Our enemy had gotten bolder, so much so that I’d spent almost all night combing the darkened streets in search of information. What I’d heard confirmed my suspicions. The Bianchi regime had their sights set on New York once again.
That didn’t make me feel any better. While some might consider what happened nothing more than a warning shot, the fact two good men had lost their lives in the process kept my rage just below the surface.
Yet here I stood with a drink in my hand, staring out at the beautiful lake and the dock and cabana Maxwell had built himself in his spare time. He’d had help of course, including Ralph and Viper, even another member of the original Powers Security team making the trip. I’d never swung a hammer in my life up to that point but had gotten a crash course in becoming a handyman if only for a couple of days.
The weather had been perfect, the beer flowing, and we’d gotten way too much sun. But we’d finished the project in five days, likely given the fact Raleigh had kept us on task. We’d laughed more than normal, hadn’t worried about business and had eaten like kings every night. The memories were some of my favorites.
I took a deep breath, my stomach growling as I watched Maxwell load up a plate for one of the guests before handing off the duties to a member of the catering company. He wiped his hands on his apron before ripping it off, looking very much the proud papa as he peered over the heads of guests toward the bounce house he’d had brought in. The setting was serene, a complete takeoff from the life I’d grown up in and Max had taken to after only a few months.
Fuck. Not that I’d admit it to anyone, but this was exactly what I wanted. A home. A family. A gorgeous wife. Cayman’s words had struck home more than I cared to admit.
Maybe I was thinking about what Joey had told me all those years ago, the happiness he’d conveyed in finding Julie.
I studied her from where I stood, the man she’d brought with her to the party someone who’d been there for her. I’d sensed her hesitation in bringing him with her, but the woman deserved to find happiness. And I could tell that little Joey adored the man.
“Fuck.” I swirled my drink and purposely looked away. Everyone had moved on but me. Great. Now I was feeling sorry for myself. What the fuck was wrong with me?
I had the house, a sinfully posh estate in another high dollar neighborhood. I had the kind of wealth people would kill for. I also had all the toys money could buy, including a small yacht, several expensive sports cars, and a lagoon-style saltwater pool that hadn’t been used by anyone but Max’s kids and Joey. What I also had was quiet every night I went home. I rarely watched television, hadn’t read a book in six months, and music did little to soothe the savage beast.
Yeah, I had it all.
Except someone to share it with.
Max laughed as he moved through the guests, forever watching where my sister was and what she was doing. It wasn’t just because he was obsessively protective of her. His adoration was clear in everything he did, every action he took, and every decision made.
When he’d received the call about the shooting, I’d heard the glitch in his voice. Even if he’d hate admitting it, he was furious that he’d used politics instead of brawn three years before.
One of the many things I’d learned to respect about the decorated soldier was his ability to separate business and family life. Somehow, even after several attacks and continued danger, he could shut it all down when he returned to his gorgeous estate. Yes, it was gated, protected by several of his men, security cameras placed in dozens of locations, but once you moved from the house to the backyard, you’d never know the destination was as highly protected as fucking Fort Knox.
“Picture perfect,” Viper said as he joined me on the deck, a drink in his hand.
“Too much so. I’ve been envisioning a bloody massacre.”
