He struck first, throwing a quick little jab that I swatted away easily. His plan seemed basic and effective. Using darting, slashing attacks, he moved in and out, throwing slapping, jarring shots that I had to duck and bob, absorbing what I could with my forearms and biceps before he pivoted and went back out before I could return damage. He was trying to get me upset, frustrated, and tired.
Ironically, I was able to get the first good blow in, a tight palm strike shot to his ribs as he threw a long-range slapping shot that I ducked. He grunted and backed away, and I stayed where I was. My ankle was going numb, the constricting tape slowly cutting the blood flow off, so the pain was nearly gone, but that didn't mean I wanted to try to pivot off it or use it for anything more than a balance assist.
"Come on, I know you've got more than that," I taunted, trying my own way to try and get him to make a mistake. "This is getting boring, Chico."
I saw a tightening of Eduardo's mouth, and knew I had at least gotten through. Unfortunately for me, that meant he came in with a good combination, a flicking jab followed by an overhand blow that I stepped into. The hard heel of his hand blasted into my face, the area around my eye going numb and my nose starting to bleed. What was worse though was that he was using the strikes as a setup to another movement, dropping his hips and attempting to throw me over and onto the concrete. I'd faced this throw hundreds of times in my life, and normally, defending it would have been no problem.
I should have been able to block it, but my injured left ankle meant that I was a half-step slow on the squaring of my hips, and instead of a full block, we sort of half-tumbled, half-threw each other to the concrete. I landed with a jarring thud on my back, with him on top of me. Not where I wanted to be.
The first shots he got in were nothing too hard, mostly to my head area, but then he threw a tight elbow to my stomach that hurt. I grabbed for his head, deciding to say fuck chivalry and yanking a handful of his hair to get him down into my embrace, where I hoped that my stronger upper body and muscle could get me some sort of advantage. There, I wrapped my left arm around his head as tightly as I could while I tried to hammer away at his neck and shoulders with my right elbow. I didn't even try to roll him yet. I could tell he was still too stable and on-balance, and I didn't even have a way to plant my left ankle either.
The fight devolved further, the two of us trading short little shots and grinding away at each other, trying to wear the other person down. Eduardo, for his part, kept his face protected, buried in my chest as he continued to throw elbows and strikes to my ribs while I elbowed and ground on his neck and shoulders.
Suddenly, he sat back, planting his foot and jamming his left knee into my tailbone, which jarred my legs and numbed my hips, giving him a bit of a gap. Taking it, he was quick as a snake, jamming my right knee painfully into the concrete. I was at least able to half-stop him, catching his right leg with mine before he was totally on my side, where I would have been in serious trouble.
"You're mine now, Norte," he grunted as he wrapped my head up with his left arm while hammering at my ribs with his right elbow. I groaned in pain as the shots thudded against me, trying to do something to turn the tide on him.
A thought flashed through my mind, and I took it as a desperation movement. It required me to use my left ankle, which I wasn't sure was going to hold, but I knew if I didn't, I'd get worn down and beaten unconscious or worse—he knew exactly what he was doing, and it was working.
I planted my left foot on the floor, then slid it underneath his right ankle, locking it up with my right leg and keeping him in place. He tried to extend his leg, and my ankle groaned deeply, but everything held in place. I pivoted on my hips and reached under his free leg, praying that he hadn't anticipated what I was doing.
The move is called the 'electric chair,' and it works by pitching your opponent over your body, as well as stretching out the groin of your opponent. If the guy isn't flexible, it can hurt like hell.
He was catapulted over me harder than I'd expected, his face smacking hard into the pavement, and I couldn't help but grin as he grunted in surprise and pain.
He was also scrambling, but I was able to get him into a choke hold, cinching in tightly, hoping to use his own shoulder to choke him unconscious. Eduardo struggled, reaching with his free hand and trying to claw at my face, his fingernail catching on my cheek and ripping a furrow underneath my right eye. Still, his strength started to weaken, and soon, he slapped at my back, giving up. I squeezed tighter, not stopping until the slaps stopped and Eduardo sagged, unconscious, to the concrete.
Letting go, I pushed away, exhausted. The fight had gone on for a long time, at least ten minutes, and I'd used more energy than I'd thought possible. Not trusting my ankle, I pushed away, staying on my left knee while I brought my right leg up, staring at him. His father was so shocked that he still hadn't moved. He’d been so confident in his son's victory over me.
"It's over," I gasped, rolling Eduardo onto his back and looking up at his father. "It's over."
Guillermo stepped forward on shaky legs, his eyes wide as he slowly shook his head back and forth.
He reached for his waist, where a pistol sat, but before he could get there, a loud click echoed through the hangar. All eyes turned as Luisa stood, a huge forty-five in her hand, pointed at her father. “It’s over. Don’t dishonor all of us by going back on your word."
His men didn't know what to do with themselves. Pointing guns at me or my father, that they could understand, but at Luisa? They weren't sure what to do. Finally, one of them brought his gun to bear at Luisa, but her pistol never wavered.
"Wait," I said, holding up my hand. Nobody paid attention to me, so I struggled to my feet and hobbled my way over in between Luisa and her father. "Wait!"
Luisa looked at me carefully and lowered her gun. “He was going to shoot you!”
“And what are you going to do, shoot him? You don’t want that blood on your hands.”
This was probably going to make matters worse, but I was desperate, and besides, it’s what I wanted anyway. Stepping forward, I dropped to my knees and took Luisa's hand. "Luisa Mendosa, would you marry me?"
All movement in the garage stopped again, Luisa looking at me, a smile spreading on her face as I forgot about the entire world other than her looking down at me. “You've gotten me into car accidents, gotten my ass kicked, and had guns pointed at me. But at the same time, I can't go on another day without you, and now you're going to give me a baby. I love you and I need you . . . be my wife."
"Well?" a raspy voice from behind me asked in decently clear English.
I glanced back and saw that Eduardo had woken up and was rubbing at his neck even as he got to his feet.
"Yes, of course I will,” Luisa said, looking down and starting to cry. "I'll marry you, Tomasso Bertoli."
I got to my feet and pulled her in for an embrace when Guillermo interrupted us.
“On one condition,” he said, finally finding his voice.
Luisa looked at her father, her eyes hardening. I turned my head as well, curious as to what the man could possibly say. "You have little room to demand anything, Father."
"Then one request—I give you away at a proper wedding."
I looked at Luisa, who looked to me. "What do you say?"
"How fast can we find a church around here?” I asked. "I promised Daniel and Adriana we'd be back for their wedding—I'm already missing the bachelor party."
Chapter 22
Luisa
Stepping off the jet back in Seattle, I felt like I was actually coming home. Carlo, Tomasso and I agreed to keep the marriage and the baby our little secret until we landed.
Margaret, Adriana and Daniel greeted us on the tarmac, Adriana catching me in a hug before I even had a chance to get out a greeting. "It's so good to see you again!" she said, grinning happily. “That means you’re coming to the wedding, right?"
"Something like that," I agreed, smiling. "It's good to se
e you again. I hope this time, I’m able to actually get to know you after your honeymoon. And I’m very excited to see your wedding."
"After the honeymoon? What do you mean?" Adriana asked, confused.
I wasn't sure how to answer, so I turned my head back to the jet. “Little help?"
Tomasso popped his head out from the plane, dressed once again in his suit, looking debonair for a man with a bandage on his right cheek, and he made his way painfully down the steps. “With what?” he asked, reaching the ground.
"What's this about after the honeymoon?" Adriana asked, confused. "I mean, I'm glad if Luisa is hanging around for a while, but I thought you were kind of stuck with short-term business trips."
"Oh, well . . .” Tomasso said, before cutting through the knotty issue by simply displaying his left hand which had been wrapped around the head of his cane, where his brand new, plain gold band rested on his third finger. "Sorry, Red. I know you wanted to be first, but things kind of happened."
Adriana gawked as I laid my left hand on top of his, where my matching band rested on my finger. "Would you like to hear the story?"
"You lucky fuck!" Daniel exclaimed, laughing and pounding Tomasso on the back and interrupting us. "How'd you do it?"
"Getting his ass kicked and choking her brother unconscious, mostly," Carlo, who was last off the plane, said. "Come on, let's all get going. Luisa and Tomasso can tell the story on the way to the rehearsal dinner."
We’d gotten lucky with our timing, as Adriana and Daniel's rehearsal dinner only had to be delayed thirty minutes. Since most of those in attendance were Bertoli men anyway, it wasn't like they wouldn't have waited all night if need be.
We piled into the rented limousine, Tomasso and me sitting together in one of the side-facing seats so that he could stretch out his leg. "All right, spill the beans," Daniel said once the car started moving. "Because this is just too crazy not to hear.”
The story of Tomasso's fight with Eduardo took the shortest amount of time, although it earned the most praise from Carlo. "Oh, Daniel, you should have seen him out there! He'd have given you a run for your money that fight."
"No, I wouldn't," Tomasso said, holding my hand. “I was fighting for my life out there. I was fighting for Luisa. I knew as soon as she told me she was pregnant that—”
"Wait!" Margaret said, interrupting. "You're pregnant?”
"Yes," I laughed, rubbing my stomach. "That was the cause of all my father's ranting and raving. Apparently, while falling in love, Tomasso and I were also making a new life."
Adriana leaned over and punched Tomasso in the shoulder, laughing. "You just have to be first in everything, don't you? Well, never mind, go on."
Tomasso rubbed at his arm and chuckled. "Anyway, you get the point. I was fighting for our lives.”
"I only pray it's a boy," Margaret said. "A daughter who’s half-Italian and half-Brazilian? Lord help this family."
"And the shiner and scratch you're sporting came from the fight, and not any post-nuptial cuddling?" Adriana asked, laughing.
"Nope, that's all Luisa’s brother. But seriously, until after the ceremony, let’s keep this between us six,” I said. When I got questioning looks, I pointed at Adriana and Daniel. "Tonight and tomorrow are all about you two. I feel bad that we may have taken some of the attention from you.”
"We'll have to include a seventh," Margaret said, "unless you plan to hide it from your new brother-in-law for the next two days. Angelo’s supposed to meet us at the party."
"Okay, seven. But really, this is about you. We can break the news about the rest later," I said, taking Tomasso's hand. "Let's celebrate Adriana and Daniel first."
Carlo, who'd remained mostly quiet through it all, smiled and nodded. "I knew you were a special girl. Especially when you had that forty-five pointed at your father."
The reaction from everyone else in the limo was immediate and loud. "You what?”
After the rehearsal dinner, I met Angelo, who I had to admit was a funny guy who had a unique sense of humor. At the time, I didn't understand why Adriana was ready to hit him when he said that the pop group, Genesis, would be playing at the reception. He was still a handsome, funny guy, and I knew I would have to keep him away from my sister, Ana, if she ever visited Seattle.
Tomasso and I both slipped our wedding rings off before the wedding, so it was nice to not have to answer questions, at least not about being married or being pregnant. The most common comment I had to deal with instead was how nice it was that I’d taken the time to visit again. Most of the people assumed it was due to the new friendship between the Bertolis and the Mendosas.
After dinner, I rode back to the Bertoli mansion with Adriana and Daniel while Carlo left for work and Margaret caught a ride home with Angelo. Daniel looked over, and in nearly flawlessly accented Portuguese, asked my reaction. "So what did you two think?"
"I never knew he spoke Portuguese," Tomasso said, leaning over to Adriana. "Did you know, Red?"
"I get amazed on a weekly basis with him,” Adriana replied. "Be careful, or else you're going to be looking pretty bush league compared to my husband."
Tomasso leaned back and laughed. “It was great. The reception should be an eye opener, though. Tonight was mostly just the well-behaved members of the Bertoli family. Everyone’s going to be at the reception.”
"Who all will be there?" I asked, worried. "This is my first American mob wedding."
Adriana chuckled and took Daniel's hand, leaning back. "I guess it is a mob wedding, isn't it? Anyway, since Daniel here isn't representing any of the other big families, it won't be as bad as some I've been to, but there'll be representatives from most of the bigger West Coast families that are friendly with Uncle Carlo."
We got back to the mansion, where Daniel gave Adriana a kiss outside the limo and looked over at his BMW. "Well, one night of a cold bed isn't too much to pay."
"What do you mean?" I asked, and Daniel laughed.
“We decided that the night before the wedding, we'd go back to sleeping in separate bedrooms. Makes tomorrow seem, I don't know, a little more old-fashioned? It'd be about the only thing old-fashioned about our relationship, but hey, why not? You might want to look at doing the whole wedding thing here, you know.”
“What? Why?" I asked, curious. "Don't tell me the family wants another wedding."
"No, but the INS will probably want a governmental wedding certificate if they're going to grant you a green card. You might just need to go down to City Hall and do the whole thing over again."
"I think we can manage that,” Tomasso said, squeezing my shoulders. "I'd marry Luisa again every day if I had to."
Tomasso and I went inside while Adriana and Daniel said their farewells for the night, and as soon as the door was closed, he pulled me close, kissing me hard. "I've been wanting to do that for hours," he whispered in my ear when our lips parted. "I need you, Mrs. Bertoli."
"Then lead the way, my husband," I purred in reply. "I may have forgotten which room is yours. We wouldn't want to frighten the staff."
It wasn't the most romantic dance-like sojourn through the halls and up the stairway to the second floor, not with Tomasso's cane and brace thumping on the hardwood floor and carpets, but it didn't matter. When we reached his room, I laughed when we closed the door. "You know, this would be our chance to actually consummate our marriage?"
"So how would you like to celebrate the occasion?" He murmured, chuckling. "As frisky as I feel, I do have certain physical limitations right now."
"Which I’m going to take advantage of," I said, thinking quickly. I led him over to a chair, which was perfect, since it had no arms, just solid wood with a well-padded seat. "Sit down."
Tomasso took a seat, a small grin on his face. "This reminds me of the first night we had sex. Except you're wearing a cute dress instead of that suit."
"Me too," I replied, straddling his legs and running my fingers through his hair. I lifted his head up, and we kis
sed, soft and loving, different than that first strip dance that broke through so many barriers. This was instead a confirmation of our bond, and I trembled while Tomasso stroked his fingers up and down my spine, pulling me closer until my breasts squashed against his upper chest. I smiled as he broke our kiss to nuzzle and suck at the soft skin around my cleavage. “So that's what you like."
"I love every square inch of you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes," his muffled reply came from between my breasts. "Your news just sped up what I already wanted."
“You sure you’re not just saying that now since you have no choice?” I said, pushing his head back.
He stopped and looked up into my face, his hazel eyes full of warmth. “I thought I was before, but I knew I was in love with you the moment you stepped on that plane to go back to Brazil. I wanted to ask you then, but I was worried that it would be too fast, that we'd be rushing things. I spent my days from the time you left until I stepped off the plane in Porto Alegre trying to figure out how to bring you back to me."
I smiled and ran my fingers along the bruising underneath his left eye, smiling. “I bet you didn’t think it’d be a baby that brought it all together. So no regrets?"
"None."
I felt tears in the corners of my eyes, which I blinked away as I quickly leaned in to kiss my husband again, our tongues touching as passion grew deep in the pit of my belly. I could feel him grow hard underneath me, and I grinned at the sounds coming from him as I shifted my hips back and forth, my panties rubbing over the bulge of his crotch.
"Tell me, what do you want tonight?” I purred, grabbing the back of the chair and leaning back, relishing the sensations. It was maddening but electric as the firm bulge rubbed against me through my silk panties, erotic as we rubbed against each other even while leaving our clothes on.
Reckless (Bertoli Crime Family #2) Page 17