Marco

by Sydney Landon

  “It’s not that difficult to picture,” I mutter, “considering we’re doing something very similar to most everyone in our life.” Then I pause and take a deep breath. This man has always deserved and will always deserve my respect. He has lived through many losses… Before he can say more, I sit forward and place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re right, of course. I needed to blow off some steam, and you’re my only outlet for it. Sucks to be you sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  “More than you think.” He smiles faintly, but the strain is still there. I’m such an asshole. “We’ll get through this. That’s about all I can promise you, other than the unpleasant fact that things will disintegrate rapidly from this point forward. Fuck, they already are. Take Nina, get her settled in at your place, and unwind for a few hours. Tomorrow, we must have our game faces on and be ready for whatever is thrown in our path. And remember, as much as you love Nic—”

  “I know,” I snap in irritation. “I’ve been hiding that we fucked him over for ages now. Why are you suddenly concerned I’ll let something slip?”

  “You didn’t fuck Nic over. If anything, you protected him. He’ll just never know it. And I worry because there’s more to lose now,” he says flatly. “Your attention will also be divided.” He gets to his feet and takes a few steps before turning to face me once more. “You may care about this girl, but you better make damn sure she’s not the death of us all.” With that final warning, he’s gone, and I’m left in a room that is far too quiet. What I wouldn’t give for the freedom to get sloppy drunk with my only bad decision being a one-night stand with a stage-5 clinger. Always wear a condom, and don’t call a woman the wrong name. Life had seemed much simpler then.

  Why am I still sitting here? Waiting for a fucking miracle? Divine intervention? A visit from Santa? I should be thrilled at the prospect of having Nina all to myself. Isn’t this what I’ve wanted for a year now? If I were an ordinary man, I’d make the most of it. But I’m not—and I never will be. Nina thinks I’m little more than a mafia thug, and she has nothing but disdain for that way of life. Little does she know—it’s so much worse than she could ever imagine. No, if being mafia was my greatest sin, I’d push that shit aside and turn on the charm. I attempt to swallow a lump the size of a basketball suddenly wedged in my throat. Because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that when this is over, she’ll hate me. I made choices long before she came into the picture, and all I can do is toss my chips in the air and see where they fall—and hope to God we’re all still alive when the last hand has been played. I cannot and will not risk those around me who have already made enough sacrifices. “You may care about this girl, but you better make damn sure she’s not the death of us all.” As usual, my father is right on the money. But I will not allow his words to become prophetic. Not on my watch.

  Nina

  Minka has been unusually quiet since we arrived at the Moretti offices. Marco and Nic casually escorted us to a comfortable sitting area complete with overstuffed sofas and a television that covers half of one wall. It should have been relaxing, if not for it feeling more like a gilded cage. We hadn’t been told not to leave the room, but the guards outside the door might as well be holding up signs. Under the circumstances, it’s understandable. Not many organizations would give free rein to a couple of outsiders, and certainly not the mafia. It’s nothing short of impressive—and downright scary—that we were even allowed through the door. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I nearly jump out of my skin when Minka drops down next to me. I swear, she moves so damn quietly that it’s unnerving at times. She leans her head on my shoulder, surprising me with the unusual show of affection. We might hug at times, but we’re not really the cuddling type. “Just go with it,” she whispers. “Come a little closer so we can’t be overheard but try to act normal.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “I have a weird feeling. Something is going on, and I don’t fucking like it. And you can bet your ass they’re going to separate us.”

  “Why?” I ask, feeling another wave of unease wash over me. I hadn’t realized how much comfort I’ve drawn from Minka’s presence, and to think of that being taken away—well, it sucks. “Isn’t it better for everyone if we’re happy? We’re less likely to cause problems, right?” I inwardly wince, knowing I sound like a hopeful Girl Scout.

  Minka sighs, before releasing a small laugh. “You know what I love the most about you, Ni? You’ve always been too good for our world. No matter how much you’ve witnessed through the years, you never really saw it. Oh sure, you’re aware of our way of life to a degree, but you’ve managed to keep it from tainting you. You’re ever the optimist, and that’s something I haven’t been since I was a child—and maybe not even then. Please never let it change you.” She ends on a whisper. And coming from my usually firecracker, ballbuster friend, that feels ominous.

  We sit in silence. Finally, I ask, “Do you have a plan? I mean, if you knock the guards out, we could escape. But then what? A car blew up outside my home mere hours ago. Our only choice is to pick the lesser of the evils. And I haven’t a clue who that is. My gut tells me that Marco won’t hurt us.” I shrug dejectedly. “That’s just my opinion, which is probably clouded by the hot-guy factor.”

  Minka giggles, and a smile tugs at my own lips. Even in the worst of times, we’ve always been able to make each other laugh. “I’ve done a lot of stupid shit for worse reasons than that, so no judgment here.” In the blink of an eye, she’s serious once again, and it’s beginning to freak me out. I’m not used to this solemn version of my best friend. “Please be careful. And no matter how much of a stud he is, don’t trust Marco. It’s not that I think he’s totally evil, but he’s mafia, Nina, and they live by a different code. I genuinely believe he likes you, but that matters little in his world. It’s family first, and everything else last. Plus, I can’t get past the coincidental timing. Franklin and his dipshit son are killed. Marco shows up at your place and then his car blows up. A few more Gavinos are taken out, and here we are.”

  “Marco feared the Gavinos would suspect me because of my link to Franklin,” I say uncertainly. Am I trying to convince her or myself that his intentions are pure?

  “So he decides to play the white knight to a woman he wants to bang? You two have never even held hands. Collateral damage is nothing to families like ours. Sure, it’s unfortunate, but it happens.” She clicks her tongue in the way she so often does when she’s deep in thought. “There are only two reasons I can come up with. He either has genuine feelings for you, or he’s guilty of something—and it’s big.”

  “I’m sure he’s got plenty of misdeeds on his conscience,” I say ruefully. “I can’t see any of them prompting him to stick his neck out for me.”

  “Even in our world, there’s an honor of sorts. You saved his ass once, and this could be as simple as him settling that marker. If he’s a decent guy, he’s not going to want that hanging over his head. Unpaid markers are liabilities, and he will want to see it settled—especially if it involves an outsider. Your last name might be Gavino, but you’re not one of us.”

  “Actually, it was Tony who promised me a marker when he came to collect Marco that night. He even gave me his card and told me to give him a call when I was ready to cash it in.”

  She whistles, looking impressed. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that. You have no idea how valuable it is. Hell, it’s the equivalent of a blank check. I know of him enough to say he’ll honor it. He’s as big as they come—practically a king. That makes me feel a bit better about this mess. You have a valuable ace up your sleeve, and you’re probably going to need it at some point. How do you think he’d feel about a buy-one-get-one-free arrangement?”

  It takes a minute for her meaning to sink in. I can tell by the curve of her lips that she’s joking, but I’m not when I say, “I will always have your back, Min. There’s no way I’d save my own ass and leave you to fend for yourself. It’s us against the world, same as it’s be
en since the day we met.”

  “Ah yeah, that joyful moment when I drove my bony knee into my cousin’s nuts. Even back then, I knew he had a lot of spare room in his tighty-whities.” We both grimace as we ponder Frankie Jr.’s shortcomings. It’s probably some inexcusable sin to think snide thoughts of the dead, but I’m not exactly broken up over his passing. “I can only imagine how scared you must have been to have not only a new family but also to have your stepbrother making a pass at you. I liked you instantly for giving me the opportunity to hurt the bastard. I swear he was nothing more than a human shit-stain.”

  “I kind of fell in love with you that day,” I admit, not worried she’ll take my words in a sexual way. Our friendship long ago transcended all normal barriers. We are soul mates and sisters in every way that matters. I am the only one in her life who knows the real Minka. The one who longs to spread her wings and fly. The gifted artist who dreams of breaking away from her family to chase her dreams. She tosses out so many decoys that even her own parents have no clue who she really is. She comes off as tough as nails— and that is accurate superficially. She could and would bring any man or woman to his or her knees without hesitation. But she is also sensitive, compassionate, generous, and loving. When my mother succumbed to cancer, Minka held me while I cried. She made certain I never spent a night alone in Franklin’s house after that. She feared that Frankie would take advantage of the grief-induced daze that Franklin had been in and corner me. I owed her everything. She had my unspoken marker, and it was a debt that would never be paid in full.

  I see the moisture in her eyes as she hugs me. “And I with you, kid,” she jokes. She’s barely a year older than me, but she told me once that I was likely to be the only child she ever had, and she intended to raise me right. Hence the “kid” reference.

  We are so lost in the moment that we both jump when a voice says, “I’ve always been a sucker for girl-on-girl.” Our heads turn as one to see Nic leaning against the wall with Marco a few feet away wearing an unusually blank expression. “Please don’t stop on our account.” Nic shoots a disgusted look at his friend before adding, “Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?”

  Marco shakes his head in exasperation. “You can’t imagine how many times I’ve asked myself that very question.”

  “Showtime,” Minka murmurs. “Go along with me on this, even if I sound insane.” When my eyes widen, she adds, “It’s for the best, Ni.” Nic is the picture of leery when she jumps to her feet in one smooth motion. I’ve always been envious of the way she appears to almost glide while I’m lucky to walk through an empty room without tripping over my own feet. “So I assume this is where you split the prisoners up.” Her nose curls as if she’s smelled something particularly foul. “I guess I’m stuck with you, Nicole. I swear, why can’t I ever get the hot one? All my guards are either related to me or fugly.”

  “Fugly?” he asks in confusion. “Papa Gavino wasn’t big on education, I see. And the name is Nicoli as you’re well aware.”

  “It means fucking ugly.” I smile sweetly. “But that lingo is generally used by the younger, hipper crowd.” Take that, asshole. No one insults my friend and gets away with it.

  He shoots a disgusted look at Minka. “Your nastiness is wearing off on her.”

  She holds her hand out, and I bump my first against hers automatically. “She almost shot your dick off all on her own. If she’d had a rifle with a scope, then you’d have been in trouble, tiny.”

  “As amusing as this is,” Marco interjects, “I’d like to get out of here sometime today. So if you two could delay the foreplay until you’re alone, that would be great.”

  Minka was right. We’re being separated. I open my mouth to object, but she shoots me a look. “Whatever.” She shrugs, sounding bored. “Let’s get going, Nicole. There’s a new episode of Walking Dead on tonight. So unless you have a DVR set for it, I’m going to need you to get your ass in gear.” She waves a hand in his face impatiently when he simply stands there. “Should I repeat myself? Maybe draw you a picture in crayon? And I’d like to stop at Arby’s for some curly fries. I’m starving. The food we had earlier sucked ass.”

  The urge to laugh is so strong that I avert my head from the bemused expression both men are wearing. “I’m ready to go too.” I motion to Marco. “This is Rick’s final episode, and I don’t want to miss a single minute of it.” Turning to Minka, I ask, “How do you think they’ll do it? I hope he doesn’t get eaten. That would be so wrong after all these years.”

  Shaking her head, Minka says, “My money’s on Daryl or Carol finally losing their shit and taking him out. That would be such a betrayal, though. I’d rather him end up as a zombie happy meal than for that to happen.”

  My stomach growls as she finishes her sentence. “Hey, can we stop by McDonald’s? The McRib is back, and I’ve been dying for one.”

  Marco touches his flat stomach as if afraid that my words will undo all his hard work at the gym. He’s probably one of those people who avoids carbs like they’re the root of all that’s evil. Mmm, whatever he’s doing, it’s working. Yum. Stop! Have some pride. He’s the enemy. But… he’s so pretty. If he were on the menu, he’d be called The Big McMarco. Oh, brother. “This isn’t some kind of prep school sleepover,” Nic says mockingly.

  “Just get her the damn food,” Marco grunts. “Kindness breeds kindness and all that other shit.”

  Nic stares at his friend as if he’s grown two heads. “That was deeply moving, Mother Theresa. Before this gets any weirder, I’m going to escort this sweet young lady to Arby’s and buy her all the curly fries she wants. Then we’ll continue to our summer estate where we’ll watch network television while she cleans her guns.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language, Nicole.” Minka winks. “If you keep this up, you might earn a good-behavior bang.”

  “Is that a threat?” He makes a show of gagging, but I don’t miss the gleam of interest in his eyes. I’m fairly certain their barbs are a flimsy cover for what’s really going on between them. And considering we usually tell each other everything, I’m a bit hurt she’s been less than forthcoming about it. What are you hiding, Min, and why? I understood that a relationship between a Gavino and Moretti could be tricky. In the unlikely event that Marco and I became involved, I don’t think it would be as much of an issue as I’m not a Gavino by blood. But why wouldn’t she tell me? She certainly knows that I have the hots for Marco.

  As Nic turns to speak to Marco, Minka pulls me in for one last hug. “Trust me. I have a plan—sort of. But I need to buy some time while I think it through. You’ll be safe with Marco, but don’t let your guard down. Something’s not right here.” She pulls away and moves to Marco’s side. “You better take care of my little sister, Moretti. Because if anything happens to her, I’ll hunt you down, cut your dick off, and feed it to you before I kill you.”

  “For fuck’s sake, what is it with you Gavino women and your dick threats?” Nic chokes out. “I mean, can’t all our body parts just get along?”

  Marco smirks as he nods once at Minka. “I’ll guard her with my life. I already have.”

  “Indeed.” She smiles approvingly. Nic plows into her back when she stops suddenly in the doorway. “Oh, and make sure you wrap it up, kids. As much as I’d like to be Auntie Minka, we can’t risk my girl catching something from that overused pecker of yours.”

  She did not just say that. I hear the departing couple bickering until their voices finally fade in the distance. “You ready to go?” Marco asks as he eyes me warily.

  I cross to a table a few feet away and pick up my laptop bag, sliding the strap over my shoulder, followed by my purse. “I assume my suitcase is still in the car?”

  “Nic will put it in the Escalade we’ll be using.” Unlike with Nic and Minka, there is complete silence between us as he follows me down the long corridor. He places a hand lightly on my lower back and guides me through a series of turns until we step out into the afternoon sunshine. Mar
co always has an unrelenting intensity about him, but I feel as though something has shifted. There’s no… heat. As if he’s got me in his clutches but is no longer interested in taking what he wants. Wanted? But I can’t think about that now. Stay alert, Nina. I glance around me in interest as we walk toward the garage area where a fleet of black SUVs is parked behind a locked fence. The Moretti offices look a little different than most area corporate businesses. The building is a mixture of glass and steel with electronic gates at all entrances. But if you take a closer look, you’ll notice the armed men who patrol the perimeter. They might rely on the latest technology as their first line of defense, but there is no shortage of good, old-fashioned muscle here. If somehow you made it past the gate, you wouldn’t get far. Even Marco’s hand has been scanned twice by the time we pull onto the road in the Escalade.

  “That was like something straight out of the movies,” I say dryly as he easily navigates the traffic congestion in the city.

  “You should wipe all that from your memory, Belle. Pretend you’ve never been behind the walls.”

  “All right. Do you ever bring outsiders there?”

  He grunts as if I’ve asked a stupid question. Duh, it’s a one-way trip for some of their guests. Neither of us attempts to break the awkward silence that has fallen between us. For the first time since he showed up at my apartment, I wonder if I wouldn’t have been better off fending for myself. I met him over a year ago, but we’re not exactly friends. I have no clue why Minka and I trust him because we have nothing to base it on other than intuition—which has undoubtedly bitten both of us in the ass before. Sure, we’ve spent time together, but we haven’t exactly been braiding each other’s hair and sharing secrets. And he separated us, exactly as Minka had predicted. Why? I have a very unsettling feeling that I’ve stumbled into something I wasn’t supposed to. Is his only motivation to protect me, or am I merely an unwitting pawn in a mafia game? Even if I could give him the benefit of the doubt due to the debt he owed me, what about his father? Sure, he’s probably grateful I helped his son, but does that really matter to a man in his position? Not only am I a potential liability, but I’m also a Gavino—at least partly. And my best friend is the Gavino family princess. Mafia royalty like Tony. I’m not an idiot. That makes me a dangerous person to have around. If Marco believes the Gavinos want to get rid of me, then the Morettis have even more reason to see me gone. No one likes dealing with an unknown, but in this world, having that type of label could very well be a death sentence. Yesterday, I thought my biggest concern was whether or not my favorite coffee was still discounted at Starbucks. Now it’s whether I’ll live until my next birthday. And quite frankly, that just pisses me off. I dart my eyes in his direction, desperately wanting to see something—anything—to offer even a shred of reassurance that he’s on my side. But as with most things in my life—there is no answer there. His honor as a man and that of Tony’s are all I have to go on, and even though I may appear outwardly calm, I clutch those two invisible things to me with all I have. A part of me believes Marco will save me if possible, but if the time comes when he must decide between the family and me, then I’m as good as dead. Which is something I need to remind myself of every hour of the day. Any woman foolish enough to fall in love with a mafia man must accept that she’ll always come last. If Marco means nothing to me, then why does that thought hurt so damn much?