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Walking down the stairs, I realize we have landed at a smaller airport and I see Jake standing, along with six guards, next to three different cars. Marco hasn’t eased up security at all. Although I don’t know him very well, it is nice to see a friendly face and Marco looks pleased to see him.
He hugs us both, welcoming us home. Just as I start to get into the waiting car, we hear tires screech toward us and bullets start flying. Marco pushes me through the open door and into the car out of harm's way as both him and Jake drop to the tarmac.
Our security team is around our cars and gun fire rages around us. Two more cars pull up and men with guns appear. I am not sure what is happening, but the opposite car door opens, and I come face to face with one of my father’s men.
“Diletto! There you are!” he says with a grin that is entirely unfriendly and very threatening. He then grabs me by the arm, pulling me toward him. Pain shoots through my arm because he is rough and his grip is tight. The movement is swift as I am dragged across the black leather back seat screaming. I can’t grab anything, his movement is too fast, but as I slide, I feel hands on my feet and Marco grabs my ankles to pull me back. I feel like a rope being pulled in both directions at once, the pain of the stretch through my torso unimaginable, but neither of them is letting go.
My arms burn, but I try to dig my nails into the soldier, trying anything to make him let go of me, even just for a moment. But he is well trained, strong and not giving up. I hear a grunt behind me, and Marco’s grip loosens and the soldier wins this tug of war as I go flying toward him, out of the car and firmly into his arms. He grabs me by pulling my arms behind my back and so my back is to his chest, and he begins to push me toward the waiting cars.
I look back to see Marco, getting punched multiple times by the other goons as is Jake. They are both putting up a good fight, but they are not winning. I start kicking and screaming, doing anything to call attention or get out of the tight grip I am in. But the man remains solid as he carries me back toward their cars. It is early morning, the airport is quiet and there are no other people around.
Papa’s men obviously knew we were coming and expected we would have security with us because we are outnumbered and outarmed.
I am still screaming and thrashing about as I look at Marco again, when I see them hit him in the head with the butt of a gun. I also notice that Jake has been beaten as I get dragged further away from them.
My body is being pushed toward another plane which is waiting nearby. I am shoved up the stairs into the cabin and thrown into a seat, just as the plane door slams shut, and it starts to move along the tarmac.
33
Marco
I wake up with a splitting headache, my vision is blurry, going in and out between the light and darkness, and I grab my head with both hands in pain as I try to sit up. I blink as I try to work out where I am and what happened. My head is throbbing in pain. The bed is hard, so I know I am not at home, and nothing smells of Frankie, so I know I am not at her place. The sheets are scratchy, not soft and comforting, and the lights are so bright, I am squinting, trying to get my bearings.
My vision spins and fades in and out, and I feel nauseous. My stomach is heavy, my chest is hurting, and my knuckles are cracked and bleeding. Was I in a fight? I remember punching someone. I look around the room. The floor is tiled, the walls are white and a dull grey. From what I can see, I think I am in some type of hospital room. My eyes continue to sweep around the bed and they land on Sebastian who is seething in anger in a chair against the wall.
“He is awake,” I hear Shaun say, and I look around, my head thumping with each small movement and see Shaun, Stephen, and Romeo also in the room standing and leaning against the wall.
Before I can say anything, Sebastian is stalking over to me, where I sit up on the bed. His face is inches from mine. “What the fuck happened to my sister?” The blood drains from my body as my memory of what happened slowly comes back to me.
“Frankie!” I shout, panicked as I attempt to jump from the bed and try to spring into action but am swiftly pushed back down by Shaun whose gaze is full of fear and worry.
“Just sit, Marco, gather your thoughts, then tell us what happened,” Shaun says calmly, offering me a glass of water which I gulp down as my blood pressure rises and realization dawns on me. I fucking lost her. I told her she was safe with me, and I let them get her. I feel sick. How could I lose her? My wife. They have taken my wife. Anger starts to boil inside me.
Sebastian is looking at me, nostrils flaring, anger flowing from his pores. I am sure I am a dead man walking for not looking after his sister, and I don’t blame him. It is my fault she is gone. She was with me; it was up to me to keep her safe.
How long have I been out? How long has she been gone? So many questions are running in my mind, my thoughts are trying to keep up with everything that is happening.
“They took her,” I say as I try to sit up again. Shaun helps me, and I notice Stephen and Romeo there, but I can’t see Jake. “He is recovering in the other room,” Stephen says, knowing who I am looking for. I look back at Sebastian and continue while I hold an ice pack to my pounding head that Romeo passed to me from where he is sitting at the side. I nod at him in thanks but then wince as the pain thrumming through my skull is excruciating.
“We stepped off the plane, walked toward the car. We said hi to Jake and opened the back door. Frankie was about to get into the back seat when two other cars raced toward us and gun fire started.”
“Fuck!” Sebastian yells and paces the room, his anger palpable and mine is rising to meet his.
Sebastian looks at me. “I’m not sure why, but they left you and Jake alive. Fucking papa!”
“It all took less than a minute. We were nearly in the car, we were so close. There were at least twenty of them and only about ten of us, we were outnumbered, and didn’t have the firepower they had.” I continue with the rest of the information I know and look at him.
“Papa knows about the wedding. I think the Archbishop opened his mouth. While you were away, he did some digging, he knows that you are married. You are easy to track, Marco, everyone loves to talk about you and where you are.”
I shake my head in deep remorse. I hate that I brought them to her, I hate that my name and identity was what helped shine a light on her whereabouts. Looking at Sebastian, I already know that he knows more than he is letting on. He stops pacing and looks at me, and I stand slowly, edging my way to him, anger vibrating through my bones.
My brothers look unsure, having never seen me like this and probably wondering what I am doing moving toward Sebastian while he is clearly unhinged. At this point, I think I am unhinged as well so we make a good pair. Maybe I will be a good mob brother-in-law after all.
“Where has he taken her?” I demand from Sebastian, not giving a fuck that he is the mob and won’t tolerate anyone speaking to him in such a manner. He looks at me, jaw clenched and shoulders stiff. His eyes are roaming my face, as if assessing if he should give me any details, wondering if I am worthy enough of the information after all that has happened.
I remain unfazed by him, and I continue to slowly stalk toward him, ready to do whatever I need to in order to get Frankie back. I notice Shaun, Stephen, and Romeo stiffen and their bodies react, looking at each other wondering what the hell is going on with me. Their younger brother, who is always the calm and nice one, is now suddenly enraged, stalking toward the most dangerous man in all of America.
“Where the fuck has he taken my wife?” I all but scream at him right into his face, anger now permeating off me as I stand right up against him, chest to chest, eye to eye, ready to make him tell me. He nods his head as if in approval of my anger which must be a deciding factor of whether to let me in on the remaining information.
