Colt’s light hazel eyes fixed on me and he rolled his big shoulders. “You going to tell me what’s going on or are we just going to sit here and tell Dante stories? ‘Cause if that’s the case, I would’ve brought him.”
Even though Colt was smiling, I could see the concern, and a bit of cold calculation in his gaze. He already knew something was very, very wrong.
I was supposed to be home right now, telling my father and the rest of the family how things went down with the Ruffinos. Not holed up in Beppe’s half-forgotten cabin, in the middle of nowhere.
“C’mon, Axe. Spill. What went down at the Ruffinos’?”
In a low voice, I explained everything. Colt, to his credit, has had to listen to shit like this a lot, so he managed to keep his mouth shut till I got to the numbers part.
The two million.
At that point he stood up, gripping the neck of the wine bottle like he wanted to bust my head in with it.
I met his gaze – knowing my own was filled with a little shame, some boiling defiance and plenty of my own anger. Colt lost his temper so rarely, but for a second, I wondered if he was going to snap.
“Che cazzo!” Colt exploded, lapsing into Italian. “What the fuck were you thinking, little brother?” His teeth gritted and he raised the bottle, then took a deep breath, and put it down.
Spinning in a circle, Colt looked like he didn’t know whether to scream at me, punch me, or leave. Finally, he started pacing, shooting me wrathful looks.
“Two million? Two million? Were you high or some shit, Axe?”
“No.” I balled my hands into fists. Gone were the days where Colt could just stare me down and I would roll over. After all, I’d learned from the best.
“I told you, Volkov was going to win, and he was going to rape that girl. He’d destroy her. She’s a fucking virgin, man. What if that was Trina, or the twins?”
“Don’t you dare bring our sisters into this, Angelino,” Colt snarled. “You had one fucking job. Madre di Dio, I can’t believe this is happening. First Dante, now you… I’m gonna have a heart attack because of my goddamn siblings and cousins, I’m calling it now.” Raking a hand through his thick black hair, Colt shook his head. “I swear to God. I’m gonna be in an early grave because of the shit you guys pull.”
“Calm down,” I said, irritated. “What’s done is done, so now help me figure out how to fix it.” Smoothing my pants, I pretended to be calm, even though my gut clenched as Colt used my Christian name, something that happened so infrequently, I sometimes forgot it.
A memory came out of nowhere and my heart gave a squeeze.
Your mom thought you should be named after me, Angelino. Isn’t she sweet?
“This is serious, bro. You just pissed on Emilio Ruffino.” Colt sat down in the chair across from me again, his face almost gray in his distress. “I get it, you’re Mama Ange’s namesake – her good name always meant more to you than the rest of us. But you cannot save this girl. You gotta give her back to the Ruffinos. Or your ass is cooked.”
“Nope,” I shot back, now on my feet. Any remnant of warm and soft faded as the anger rose again, like a dragon inside me. “Let them get pissed on, those monsters. They’re not touching her, Colt. I will protect her with my last fucking breath.”
He was looking up at me, solemn as a monk. It looked alien and wrong, somehow, on my brother’s handsome face, which was usually smirking or lit up with laughter. “Your good deed may have actually just cost you your last breath, and soon. Do you understand that, Angelino? Do you comprehend what you’ve done?”
“I told you, I don’t care. I’d do it again. It’s wrong. This girl, she didn’t sign on for this. You’d have done it, too, Colt, if you were there.”
Colt sighed and leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand over his face. “You can’t make this easy on me, huh, kid? How highly you think of your big brother.” He looked at me, eyes cold as ice. “But no, Axe, I would not have bid on her. I would have let Volkov take her and destroy her, as you say. Because that’s what Pop said to do, and I follow orders.”
A chill shot through me. “So that’s it? You’re not going to help me?” I folded my body back into my chair, hands limp between my knees as I realized, for the first time, that I might be alone in this.
A heavy silence fell, with Colt staring up at the ceiling, his hands pressed together at his mouth. His eyes closed when he spoke, “When you don’t show tomorrow with his money, Emilio is going to come hunting for you. You don’t know who might get caught in the crosshairs… And you’re willing to risk this – for some girl?”
“You don’t know her,” I growled.
“No I don’t. And neither do you, dumbass.”
I relaxed a little when he called me “dumbass”. That was a word usually thrown at Dante in the most loving of ways, so he must have been coming around.
“C’mon, Colt.” I kicked him lightly in the ankle. “We gotta take these pricks down. You think Pop really wants Ruffino money if they’re kidnapping virgins to sell to the Russian? And by the way – why was Volkov there? Isn’t that breaking the 802 protocol?”
Colt sat straight up. “That’s a good point. That could work. By the agreement of the trinacria, he did step out of line doing business with Volkov. Although I could see how Emilio could spin it and say it was not technically breaking it. That Volkov was just attending an event he was throwing. That’s not real business.” He shrugged and blew out another frustrated sigh. His eyes glinted at me. “You wanna start a mob war over this virgin? Christ, is this like the fucking crusades or some shit?”
“It’s dark enough in there that no one would notice if Volkov and Emilio were breaking it by doing other business. It’s the perfect front,” I pointed out.
“Hmm.” He eyed me thoughtfully. “I still think this is all batshit crazy, lil bro.” Colt passed the bottle back to me and I took a big gulp. “Go over it all again for me. Maybe there’s something else we’re missing.”
I told him everything, Emilio in the parking lot, explaining about the ride up here, and Mary’s fear and determination. Colt interrupted me a few times with questions and ideas, but nothing seemed to stick.
We were nowhere close to a solution.
When I got to the part about how she called me “Catholic boy”, and how I got a “bargain”, my brother’s lips quirked.
“Alright, Catholic boy, since you decided to be a knight in shining armor, I guess I gotta do something. That’s what brothers are for.” He stood up and stretched. “You sure no one followed you here, San Angelino?”
“Positive.” And even more positive I hated both of my new fucking nicknames. Saint Angelino, my ass.
“I’ll be honest with you, Axe. I got nothin’. Let me sleep on it, talk to the mad genius that is our cousin Dante, and tell Pop about the girls. Kidnapped and unwilling – I can already see the headlines.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Colt looked down at me, hesitated, then crossed to my chair, and pulled me up into an embrace. “Don’t do anything else stupid,” he grumbled in my ear.
“I’ll try.”
“Try harder.” He stepped back and ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll call you, first thing in the morning. Lay low.”
I walked with him over to the door, and Colt left. Something hard and cold was in my chest. An uneasy, yet familiar thought crossed my mind.
Will this be the last time I see you, big brother?
But then Colt, sauntering to his car, turned, saluted me with his middle finger, and I shook my head. Not a fucking chance. I closed and locked the door as he gunned it backwards out of the driveway.
I looked down at my watch and a jolt went through my body. It was two in the morning. Suddenly the day hit and I slumped, my bones feeling like mush. Beyond exhausted, I dragged myself upstairs, ready to fall asleep in my clothes.
Before I went into my own room, I treaded noiselessly down to Mary’s. I tried the door gently, hoping to peek in and make sure she hadn’t d
one something stupid, but it wouldn’t budge. I frowned. These old doors didn’t lock.
Stepping back, I stared at it, and pressed my ear against it, not sure if I would hear sobs or what, but all I heard was slow, even breathing. I tried the door again and it moved a scant inch, but something was blocking it from opening. Then it hit me.
She must have shoved the dresser up against it.
A grudging smile tugged at my lips. For some reason, I felt kind of proud of my girl for being such a willful little badass. I decided to go into the room across the hall, instead of my old room, and threw myself on the bed, leaving the door wide open.
The last thought that crossed my hazy, half-dead brain was about her.
If any girl was worth this mess, she was it.
Chapter Four
Brenna
I opened my eyes onto a painting of a shepherd, crook in hand, and a fluffy white sheep by his side. Green mountains rose up behind them, a deep blue sky arched overhead, and flowers were all around.
I was in a room full of sunlight, warm and comfortable and safe.
Where was I?
Blinking my eyes open rapidly, I turned my head and saw Axe standing over me, arms folded, a shallow dimple creasing his left cheek. His lips pulled into a slight smirk and he popped his eyebrows up and down at me.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
Two mil, the auction, Volkov, the gun, the car door, the lake, this room, the dresser, Axe Capestrana.
It all came crashing back to me. I froze.
What was he doing? I was wide awake now and my eyes darted to the door. It was wide open and the dresser was back in place. My cheeks flamed as I realized he must have moved it. Easily, too. Well, that was kind of a silly way to keep him out. As though catching wind of my thoughts, Axe’s smirk grew even wider.
I was usually such a light sleeper. How’d he get the drop on me?
I pushed my hair back and sat up in bed, ignoring his dimple and smirk.
“Can I help you?”
Axe remained silent and I glared at him. But then I realized his gaze had drifted down to my chest. At the same time, there was a whisper of air along the top of my breasts that felt wrong and I looked down.
Lips pursing, I realized I was more or less giving Axe a free peep show, as the tank I slept in was falling off my shoulders.
With a squeak I hope he didn’t hear, I viciously pulled it up. Then our eyes met again and my body went into shock as a hot sizzle of delicious energy sparked through me. My toes curled.
And it scared the shit out of me.
“Get out!” I snapped and pulled the blankets up to my chin.
“I slept well, thanks for asking.” Axe rolled his eyes, the smirk fading. But his left cheek was still adorably dimpled, giving his hard face a mischievous, boyish look.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
Like, did that really just happen? Did I honestly just feel attracted to him for a second? This prick who bought me at an auction with all his buddies, ogling naked women and using their money to shackle us to their sides?
I dug my thumbnail into the soft flesh between my other hand’s thumb and index finger – an old trick to keep me from crying.
But now, I was using it to keep me from checking out the way Axe’s arms bulged from his tank top, his pecs peeking out along the low collar, and wondering what his full lips felt like…
Another shock went through me. Oh my God. Just because he hadn’t forced himself on me yet didn’t mean shit. He’s not a Boy Scout, he’s a son of a Mafia family, Brenna.
I must have been suffering from the fastest onset of Stockholm Syndrome on the face of the planet.
Yet, I couldn’t help but notice he smelled good. Really good. Like peppermint and soap. No cologne. Just a clean, but undeniably masculine smell. Heat curled in my belly and I wanted to put my head through the wall.
Or maybe grab up that shepherd painting and slam it over Axe’s head.
He clearly took a shower at some point, he was clean-shaven, his hair was slightly damp.
My head needed to be checked. I did go through a lot last night. Could this have been some kind of psychological coping mechanism?
“Breakfast is ready, pecorelle. I know you must be starving.”
“No,” I lied, but my traitor of a stomach growled at that moment. “Well, maybe a little.”
“I found a sweatshirt, I think it was my…” Axe paused awkwardly. “Never mind.” He plucked a faded pink hoodie off the chair by the window and handed it to me. “I thought it was better than that tank top you’re obviously swimming in.”
I flushed as he glanced down again. Taking the sweatshirt, I murmured, “Yeah, thanks.” Standing up, I pulled it over my head and then followed him downstairs, peevishly wondering who the hoodie belonged to.
In the sunlight, I could appreciate how pretty (and remote) the lake house really was. All I could see was dark blue water and trees from every window. The pines were a staunch dark green, but the other trees were a riot of autumn colors – red, gold, and orange. The sky was a pale, milky kind of blue and golden sunlight bounced off of everything.
It was breathtaking.
Too bad it was just another prison.
The crisp smell of eggs and bacon filled the room, making my mouth water. Clearly Axe, taught by that mysterious Mama Ange he started talking about last night, then abruptly stopped talking about – did manage to teach him one useful skill that didn’t involve torture or theft or felonies.
The table was shoved up against a window in the kitchen, small and round, but still stuck partly out into the living room. I sat down stiffly, trying to subtly scoot away, as I let Axe hand me a plate of food. For a moment I stared at it, my eyes suddenly burning and my throat aching. The bacon was slightly burnt, curling in at the edges, while the eggs were a heaping mound of fluffiness.
Scrambled and slightly burnt toast, please, echoed down across the years.
Axe – he had made them just like I used to want them, before… I snapped the thought off, as though breaking a twig.
No, I wasn’t going to think about that here. I was not inviting hope in like last night.
Stop. You’re gonna make yourself cry. You can’t look weak in front of him.
Managing to take a few mouthfuls, I had to admit, the eggs were good. But then what? I’d eat eggs, and wait.
Wait for him to tell me where we would go or what we would do, or if he’d decided that he’d changed his mind. I had to go back after all.
We were silent, with only the sound of wind at the open window behind us filling the room. I could feel the cool breeze rushing across my skin and realized with a start.
There was a nearby open window.
Barely ten feet away. On the ground floor.
Without even thinking, my body was full of a sudden, pounding fury again, and I snatched up a kitchen knife and dove at him.
For a single moment, I saw Axe’s shock. His dark eyes widened, stunned, as he crossed his arms to protect his core. The knife skidded across his forearm in a bright red line.
Another scar for your collection, Axe.
Rearing back, I got my footing and went to strike again, but Axe grabbed my wrist with the knife, so I hit him hard in the chin with my other hand.
“Shit!” he growled.
But in another second, he had me pinned against the counter, and I couldn’t even struggle against him. He’d easily overtaken me again – I just couldn’t match his strength.
I watched as his face began to warp in my vision. Hot, fat tears pressed at my eyes, then began to stream down my face.
“Just tell me,” I sobbed out, broken, finally broken. “What do you plan on doing with me? Even better, just do it. Get it over with, now, please. Extend me that small mercy. Not knowing is killing me.”
Above me I watched as Axe’s face paled, his eyes searching mine, pained. I saw his throat working, his jaw clenched shut, and I waited.
A
t least now I was going to see the real him. He would stop pretending he was something good, and show his true colors. I had to admit, after all the sickening anticipation, I almost welcomed it.
Do your worst, Axe.
Axe
Fool me once.
So, shame on me, because I did not see that coming.
I don’t know why, especially after I thought back to my previous adventures with this little tigress. But I never imagined I would have to pin her down again after I made her breakfast.
I wasn’t pissed in the least, though. I barely felt the scratch, because as much as she’d taken a dive at me, it was halfhearted at best. She could’ve done far worse. No, pissed would’ve been better. I was sick over it – I felt like shit. She hid it well, behind a wall of anger and bravado, but I had unintentionally terrified this girl, just like the bastards in the Ruffino ring did.
Damn, maybe I should have spilled it all last night.
Again, I felt that protectiveness overtake me and I hedged, not wanting to scare her any further.
No more, though. Even if it did scare her, I couldn’t lie to her. The truth will set you free, right?
Because while I didn’t know whether I could protect Mary from what was coming, I knew one thing – high noon would be here all too soon – and Emilio would be out two mil, a gorgeous virgin, and realize I was long gone.
And he would be coming for me. For us. Ruffino hounds of war set free – to wreak havoc and spill blood. My blood, and Mary’s.
For a moment, I thought I was actually going to be sick, just thinking about it. How did this poor, beautiful girl wind up in a maelstrom of Mafia drama? Not even that – she was like the fucking eye of the hurricane. It was insane.
I still had her pinned against the counter, the knife clutched in one of her hands. Somehow, I managed to shake her wrist in a way that made it fall and clatter.
Coming to a sudden decision, I spoke.
“I swear on my grandmother, who you don’t know, but trust me she’s a force of nature, just like you – that what I am about to tell you is the truth, okay?” I took a deep breath. “Honestly, Mary, I don’t have any plans for you at all, outside of keeping you alive and safe from the Ruffinos and potentially a slighted-feeling Volkov, that is.”
Axe to Grind Page 4