by Posey Parks
“It doesn’t matter. I want to watch the end of the game,” he barked.
I grabbed Marco’s hand. “Babe, be nice.”
The pain was probably mounting. He needed another dose of pain meds.
I tugged him toward the counter.
Kahn sighed. “I recorded the game.”
Maceo placed two large aluminum pans covered with foil on the counter.
“Let’s all join hands. Bow your heads.” I smiled and closed my eyes.
“Thank you, Lord, for the food and nourishment we are about to receive.” My eyes popped open.
“Amen,” chimed around the countertop.
“Guys, tonight relax. Drink. Eat. Enjoy yourselves. Leana sent two trays of pasta.”
Kahn’s blue eyes bulged. “Aunt Leana sent pasta? Now this is a Merry Christmas.” He chuckled.
He rubbed his gruffy black-bearded face. Kahn and Kagan were identical twins, but most of the time they wore their hair differently. Kahn wore his hair curly stopping mid ear. Kagan wore his hair cut low. Like buzz cut low. But since we’ve been locked away and haven’t had access to stylists, Kagan’s hair grew longer in the top.
All the Esposito and Magarelli bodyguards were modeled after Greek Gods. Chiseled faces, gorgeous eyes, and tall, muscled physiques. And they were all single. Made sense. They spent eighty percent of their time protecting crime families. How could they settle down and have a normal life? Something’s we did weren’t normal. You know, like the killing. Which reminded me of Tadeas and Jocelyn. How could he make it work with my sister? He was Marco’s right-hand man. Once they returned, I’d have to speak to my sister.
Romeo and Rémy were brothers, too. They had silky brown hair and smoldering green eyes. Oh, shit, he just laughed at Kahn’s joke. I’ve never seen any of these men relax. I wondered what made them work for the Magarelli’s. I’d have to ask Marco how bosses chose their men. Tall with fit bodies, maybe those were qualifications. These bosses weren’t afraid to hire men who were just as handsome as they were. Maybe that reflected how confident they were.
“I’d like to propose a toast.” Kagan must’ve grabbed a bottle of Champagne from the fridge. I was apparently in a daze, deep in thought about our bodyguards, because I hadn’t noticed the glasses sitting before us. Maceo and Kahn strolled around the large countertop filling glasses with champagne. Everyone’s glass except mine. Maceo poured cran-apple juice in mine. I laughed on the inside. He felt taking care of me was a priority to ensure this baby growing inside of me would survive.
We held our glasses in the air.
“Marco, I know you don’t remember.” Kagan’s smile withered.
“You trained Emoni to become one hell of a boss. I wasn’t here for the training.”
“I was,” Maceo interjected.
“Boss, you didn’t go easy. You two stayed in the basement shooting for hours. I’d been thrown to the mat many times by Emoni,” he snickered.
I chuckled. “You have.”
Fighting was a part of my training. Marco was adamant. He said it was crucial I could attack my enemy using various moves. My favorite was the sneak attack which I utilized in Portland when I slit the assholes throat who tried to kill my husband, so he thought.
Kagan smiled. “I had the honor to witness her strategic graceful moves. Although cutting off dudes dick was not a graceful move.” Grunting fell around the room as every man shielded his crotch.
“What can I say? He deserved to eat a dick.” I tilted my head to the side and grinned.
Romeo burst into laughter, then settled his tone. “Fucking ruthless. A major boss quality.”
“Thank you.”
“On the way to the air strip, Emoni jumped into action. She stuck her rifle out the window and helped me kill the bastards who tried to kill us. Kahn and Marco, you guys were asleep in the back of the ambulance.” He glanced to my left. “Maceo, great driving.”
He nodded.
“We had each other’s back when it mattered.” A smile lit Maceo’s lips.
“To our Donna. A great boss,” Kagan shouted.
I grinned from ear to ear.
“Salute,” fell from the lips around the countertop.
Marco peeked at me, then his lips pressed against my temple. “Great job, baby. The visual of you holding an AR-15 makes my cock rock hard,” he growled.
I glanced up at him. “Marco, we need to chill for a couple of days.”
He grabbed my chin and held my gaze. “Tell me you don’t want it.”
I peeked at the guys faces around the room. They were too busy preparing their plates to notice Marco’s domineering hold on me.
“Look at me, bella donna.”
Oh, fuck. My core tightened. I slid my tongue over my lips. It was a fucking reflex.
A cocky smile swept across his lips. “That seductive tongue answered my question.”
He stepped back and shrugged off his suit jacket.
“You should go upstairs, soak in the tub. I wish I could run the water for you.”
I tugged his white dress shirt and kissed his lips. “Marco, I know how well you take care of me even if you don’t.”
His large hand rubbed my ass.
“I’ll make my plate before I head up. Does anyone need anything?”
“No,” they said one by one, walking toward the man cave slash game room.
Marco opened the fridge and retrieved a beer.
“I’ll be up later.”
I nodded as I piled food on my plate. Shit, by the time he came to bed I’d be in a food coma. Strolling up the stairs, I pondered on training in the morning. We were heading into battle soon. I had to be ready.
CHAPTER NINE
MARCO
“Missed another touchdown.” My team was down by two points. They needed a field goal to win.
“Marco, if your team loses you owe me big,” Kagan leaned back in the recliner and snickered.
I tossed my hand in the air, waving off his comments. “Not my favorite team. Not even a team I cared for. All the stats this season pointed to the Seahawks going to the Superbowl. Sierra’s ex-husband played for the team. I hated him as a person, but liked watching him play.
Earlier this season Dillon and I was watching the Seahawks versus the Jets. He grumbled the entire time we watched. I knew my best friend. He liked his game, too. Couldn’t tell his wife though. I laughed until I was in tears as Dillon told me he broke Jeremy’s arm. The shit was hilarious. I digress. Sierra caught my silent cheer as Jeremy Crawford scored a touchdown.
“Good game, huh?” A sneaky smile brightened her face as she sat beside me.
“Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes.
“What?”
She leaned in. “I can get you tickets to the game if you like.”
I pushed down the smile, fighting to break free. “Naw, naw. That’s not necessary.”
She patted my shoulder. “Ok, if you say so.”
“What are you two talking about?” Dillon’s brows rose.
“Nothing.” I waved my hands in front of me.
Sierra slinked over and relaxed into his side. “I asked Marco if he wanted to go to a Seahawks game.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Dillon quirked a brow.
“We can go. My presence in the stands might make his arm twitch. So he might not throw good passes.”
I threw my head back in laughter.
Sierra shook her head.
“What, baby?” Dillon shrugged.
He kissed her nose. “I think Marco and I should go. Then we’ll visit him, and the team in the locker room. Tell them how great they played. Watch his ass squirm. So, you in or what?” he said with a thick New Jersey accent like he hadn’t lived in Portland for fourteen years.
“Yeah, I’m in.”
Sierra shook her head, and wrapped Dillon’s arm around her growing belly.
That was early October, right before I left for Portland.
Kagan pacing the floor, shouting obsceni
ties at the TV brought me back from my thoughts.
“What the fuck is my team doing? Forty-niners, don’t let the Seahawks win.” Kagan stared wide eyed at the oversized TV.
Everyone’s eyes zeroed in on the TV. They sat on the edge of the recliners clutching a beer bottle or a glass of whiskey. No one smoked cigars tonight since I couldn’t have one. Emoni would’ve freaked out if I smoked. The moment I heal, I plan to light one up. The searing pain heated and stabbed my abdomen at once. Shit. I winced.
Teeth barred as I rode out the pain, I peeked at surveillance footage on my iPad. There was no such thing as a night off in this business. But Maceo deserved a little relaxation.
I glanced at the TV. “Yes!” I shouted and howled in the same breath.
Maceo’s brows rose. “Boss, you need meds.”
My hand hovered over the fresh stitches. Before I could say another word, he shot out of the room. Maceo returned a short time later, shaking a small plastic medicine bottle over my hand. Two pills dropped in my palm. I tossed the pills to the back of my throat and washed them down with a bottle of water.
“Thanks, Maceo.”
“No problem.” He placed the bottle on the short end table beside me.
Kahn smiled. “They’ll kick in soon, cousin.” His eyes were slits.
I leaned forward and winced through the pain. “You better not be abusing those fucking pills doc gave you.”
“Yeah, chill with that shit, Kahn,” Kagan growled.
He threw up a hand and brought his glass to his lips. “All right, fellas, I’ll chill.”
“Marco, remember that guy who always tried to hang with us when we were kids?”
Romeo snapped his fingers. “The fat kid who smelled like onions.”
I laughed hysterically. “How could I forget?”
He always wanted to be a part of our crew. I remember the day I had it with him. We were about to take off on our bikes. I told him taking baths were rule number one. And not to mention you had to be a cool kid. I bluntly told him being a part of our crew just wasn’t in the cards for him.
“You and Dillon got a head start. Left me talking to the asshole. I took off on my bike. A dull pain ripped through my back. I slammed on my brakes, glanced down at the red brick on the ground.”
The guys hung on to my every word.
“You’ll fucking pay for this,” I shouted over my shoulder.
I dropped the bike to the ground and ran toward him, bumping his chest and knocking him to the ground. I ran back, picked up the brick.
“You want to hit people with bricks because you can’t have your way. I’ll show you what we do to people like you.” I leaned over him, gripped the front of his shirt, and held the brick high.
“You don’t fuck with the Esposito’s or the Magarelli’s. I pounded the brick against the side of his knee again and again. The little fucker begged me to stop. If the pain wasn’t throbbing in my back, doubt I would’ve stopped. Well, that and my dad yanking me off of him.”
They laughed.
“What’s the asshole up to now.”
Lounging in a wife beater and black slacks, Romeo chugged his beer. “He’s still got that limp you gave him when we were kids,” he chuckled.
I smirked. “Where did you see him?”
“At Larry’s deli. He asked about you.” He smiled behind his glass.
“What the fuck did you tell him?”
“That you’re still breaking legs.”
We all burst into laughter.
“He works at his family’s winery business. That fucker never had to do shit. Entitled motherfucker.”
“Romeo, I never trusted that guy.”
“Marco, me either. He then asked where could he place a bet. I told him at the race track. Like what the fuck?” He threw his hand in the air. “Why was he asking so many questions?”
“Pretty sure he’s still holding a grudge. We need to watch that slimy asshole.”
“Already took care of it. I assigned Gage to watch him.”
I nodded. “Good. Eventually he’ll take a walk. And never return.”
“Yup, a nice long walk.” Romeo gulped down his beer.
“That dumb fucking guy.”
Growing up Tadeas, Maceo, Romeo, Rémy, Dillon, Dominic, Nicola, Vincent, Jasper, and Cruise attended school together. Dillon and me didn’t live far from each other. Our friends didn’t live in our neighborhood. We either met up at my house or Dillon’s. We were as thick as thieves. Our friends didn’t have to work for us. They came from good stable family homes inside the Italian community. Their parents felt it was an honor their sons were able to work for one of the five families. Who better to protect you once you became a boss than your friends who always had your back? Whichever family you worked for that’s where your loyalty lied the most. Then your friends. Dillon and me ran tight ships, but allowed our men to make a lot of the decisions on our behalf because they knew us better than anyone. There was no cocky bullshit. ‘I’m that man now type shit.’ These guys were like having eyes in the back of your head.
“Kagan, don’t forget to ask aunt Margaret for that twenty grand you owe me.”
Our mothers were sisters.
“Fuck you, Marco.”
“Hey tell her to withdraw the money from your trust fund. She still cleans your clothes. Remember you need to clean your clothes in this house.” I snickered.
“I wish you would have forgot about this bet.”
Everyone laughed.
“Hey Marco?”
I glanced at Kahn. “Yeah?”
“Speaking of memory loss. What was it like having a real stranger in your bed?”
“Then you found out she was your wife,” Maceo chimed in.
“I fuck. I mean, I fucked strippers who I may have seen in the club once or twice. Her beauty held my attention. Honestly…” I peeked at the closed door than back at the guys.
“I wanted to fuck her. Once she explained part of what was going on. She piqued my interest. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t fucking strippers anymore. That shit was getting old fast.”
“I could see it in your eyes, Marco. You were done.” Maceo reclined in the chair.
“True. Even though she was a stranger, her mannerisms told me we were…intimate.” There’s a new word for you guys.”
They groaned.
“She cared about me. Protected me. I hadn’t met a woman who wasn’t looking out for self.”
They nodded. “Those are hard to find,” Kahn sighed.
“I’ll pick up where you left off with the strippers. Fuck settling down.”
“You say that now. But one day you’ll grow tired and want a real relationship.”
Kahn waved me off.
“I forgot to ask. How did you bust your stitches?” Kagan pointed at the fresh bandage wrapped around my torso.
Romeo and Rémy laughed under their breath. Maceo ran his hand over the back of his neck.
“I was fucking my wife in the guest bathroom.”
I shrugged. “I guess you could say the pain meds gave a false belief I was feeling real good. When I wasn’t.” I glanced at Maceo as he walked over to the bar.
“Maceo, was I always like that with her.”
“First off, I wasn’t ease dropping.” He raised his hands like he was surrendering.
“I’d hear you two in the kitchen, living room, or in here fucking for hours. Sometimes I’d climb out of bed and walk the perimeter, thinking maybe you two would’ve finished up. But no such luck.”
“Shit, that explains why I can’t get enough of her.” I rubbed my neck.
“Bet you’re happy you don’t have to wrap it up anymore,” Kagan snickered, sipping from the half empty bottle of champagne.
“Shit, ain’t that the fucking truth. It’s more than that. There’s a strong connection between us. Not sure how and I hadn’t known her that long.”
“Shit, I think you’re obsessed with her.” Kahn tore his attention away from sports
highlights and stared at me. He slipped his fingers through his curly black mane.
My eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”
Maceo placed a fresh glass of Jim Beam in my hand.
“Kagan and me sat on that fucker José for weeks. I get it, you wanted to get rid of that bitch. Every time we talked; I could hear the frustration in your voice. You were ready to snap. You were tired of lying low with her. And I get it. She’s a fucking twenty. You did good, cousin.”
“Thanks.” A light smile hit my lips before I sipped the whiskey.
What could I say to that? He was right. She was a fucking twenty.
“How do you feel about killing…” Maceo gruffly rubbed his face.
“Spit it out.”
“Killing Vanisha.”
“Ending her life, no I didn’t want her dead. I cared about her. Shit, I was banging her for years. But learning she disrespected my wife on various occasions, I am confident I made the right decision. She had to fucking go. Who better to assist in killing her with my wife, than me? I had a dream recently. I remembered waiting for Emoni in my parents’ basement. Vanisha was strapped to a chair. The second my fiancée walked into that room; I had fucking tunnel vision. Only reason I knew she was my fiancée because I stood behind Emoni in front of Vanisha and told her I proposed to Emoni. I’d kill anyone for her.”
My eyes fell across their faces. “I mean that shit.”
“Noted,” Rémy stated, then chugged his beer.
“Dillon would kill anyone over Sierra too. Now you know what it’s like to be in love.”
“Listen to you. Like you know what love looks like?”
He arched a dark brow, and he flashed a cocky grin. “You forgot my parents have been happily married for thirty-three years.”
“Shit, you’re right. How can I forget? Every time I see them, they’re all hugged up. Your mother rested her head on his shoulder at my mother’s holiday party last year.”
He laughed. “They were the same way this year too.”
I nodded. “You and Rèmy are lucky guys to have a strong representation of love.”
“Your parents appear close too.”
My brow wrinkled. “Yeah, today mom was hugged up on dad. Then he had the nerve to make a sexual innuendo about him busting stitches during sex. Like what the fuck? Why would he bring up their sex life? If I wasn’t in a shit load of pain, I would have told him to shut the fuck up. I didn’t want to picture them having sex.”