“Here goes nothing.” I mutter, then fold forward to go through the opening head first.
True to his word Charlie holds the other end of the rope, keeping me from falling forward to quickly. I hit the ninety-degree angle where I need to pull myself through, and then I’ll be able to crawl on my belly.
“Just breath.” I hear Gio’s voice tell me from outside the box.
“Giving you some slack,” Charlie calls. “Reach out your hands and try to start pulling yourself forward.”
Steadying myself, I do as Charlie said, reaching out my arms, I try to pull myself forward. I barely have my head through when the anxiety begins to swell.
I feel trapped.
My heart begins to race, my palms are sweaty and slick against the metal, and I’m pretty sure I can’t breathe in here.
“I need out!” I cry, banging my fist against the metal.
“Just breath,” Gio tells me.
“No! No, I can’t.” I tell him. I try to reach forward again but nothing works.
I’m stuck.
“Please,” I say, this time whinier. “I can’t breathe. Please let me out!”
“Okay,” Gio replies in a soothing voice. “Charlie will pull you out, hang on.”
“No, just break it. Break me out of here.”
“Breathe Annie.” His voice is steady and demanding.
I feel the rope begin to tug on my waist, but it’s not pulling me up. I try to push with my hands relentlessly.
Finally, my head slips back through the angle and rough hands tug on my ankles pulling me back up until I’m in Gio’s arms on the ladder.
“It’s okay,” he whispers to me. “I got you.”
My breath comes out fast and shaky and I’m fighting the urge to cry in his arms. I don’t want to do that again.
“Breath, Annie. You’re safe.”
I take a deep breath, this time smoother and more controlled.
Gio sets me back on my feet easily. “We’re done for the night,” he tells the men.
Frank looks annoyed, but Charlie nods amicably. “Of course, boss.” He says, turning away and taking Frank with him.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Gio when it’s just us and my breathing has finally returned to normal.
“It’s okay.” he gives me an easy, reassuring smile for the first time since I’ve arrived at the warehouse. “I didn’t expect you to be perfect tonight, but you’ll get there.” He shrugs, glancing over at the metal box.
“I have to do that again?”
He chuckles softly, “Yeah sweetheart. But I promise you’ll be fine, okay?”
I nod, even though I do not feel okay about it, but I don’t feel like I can tell him that.
“What is it supposed to be?”
He considers the question for a moment, deciding how much information he’s willing to tell me.
“I’ll tell you, eventually. That’s all you need to know, now let’s get you home.” He gestures to the door.
Of all the places for my old Camry to be finicky, outside of Gio’s club was among the worst.
“Come on,” I tell the old beater that is still, on the fifth try, not starting.
“What’s wrong with it?” The sound of Gio’s smooth as silk voice makes me jump. He stands next to the driver’s side window with Charlie close behind him.
“Won’t start,” I answer.
“Charlie, can you get it to the shop for her?” He asks Charlie, though I doubt Charlie is allowed to say no. “I’ll take you home.” He tells me.
“But, I have work tomorrow.”
“Charlie will have it dropped off before you leave in the morning.” He waves a hand dismissively.
“Okay.”
Gio drives the nicest car I’ve ever seen. It’s a black sleek looking Porsche with dark-tinted windows. The smooth tanned leather interior feels like butter against my skin. Instinctively I rub my hand against it to feel the softness.
Gio navigates the Providence streets seamlessly, maintaining the speed limit, and signaling perfectly. I can’t help but laugh.
“What’s funny?” His gaze lands on me in the passenger seat.
“Nothing,” I muse.“You just drive so polite for a tough guy.”
His mouth curls upwards into a smile. “Yeah? How should I drive?”
I take a moment to burn his profile into my memory. With his sharp features, dark hair, and muscles he looks devastatingly handsome at the wheel of this ungodly expensive car.
“You should be racing.” I say finally. “Like weaving in and out of lanes, just totally taking over the road.”
He laughs, glancing my way again.
“Don’t want to get pulled over.”
“Oh, you would never get pulled over.” I continue. “You probably have the cops on your payroll anyway, right?”
Whatever moment we were having fizzles at that stupid question.
“Watch it.” He mumbles.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I tense next to him. “I just..”
“It’s fine Annie.”
I have a feeling it’s not really fine though.
He pulls the Porsche into my apartment complex and escorts me to the door silently.
“Uh, thank you, for taking me home,” I mumble sheepishly while fumbling with my keys.
He leans his shoulder against the brick wall next to my apartment door. His eyes locked on my every movement.
“Annie,” he whispers and my eyes lift to meet his instantly.
There was that spark again.
Electric.
It felt like hot fire burning through my veins.
His warm hand sneaks up to gently touch my cheek. Then just as quick, he snatches it back and ice replaces the fire.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “See you tomorrow for more training.”
I watch him walk away. As quickly as he came into my life, he’s gone.
There’s a manilla folder sitting on my desk, taunting me.
Inside it contains every piece of information there is to know about Annie Grace Byrne.
It’s not unusual for me to have my guy pull info on someone I’m working with, really it would be unusual if I didn’t. I have to be safe and protect my family and my crew.
But Annie?
Something about her felt different.
I can’t get the damn girl out of my head. She’s been plaguing my thoughts for the past week. Even though I want to devour every detail of this file, I want to know every single part of Annie's life - for work of course - there’s a part of me that would rather hear her tell me all of her secrets.
Even if her file is sparkly clean, she’s not meant for me. I know this. My line of work is not made for women and civilians.
There’s been so much death lately, so many wives crying over the coffins of their husbands. Not to mention, my father losing his wife. This life is dangerous, that’s something I’ve known since I was a kid.
I have no intention of bringing a woman into it, never have. I’ve avoided relationships forever, yet here I am tethering myself to Annie.
La Famiglia. That is what, who, I should be tethering myself to. Not Annie Byrne.
La Famiglia has been a part of my life since I was born. My great grandfather immigrated from Palermo, Sicily long before I was even thought of. In the states, Gianni DelGado was one of the first to reestablish the brotherhood they had created in Italy.
Gianni had a slew of girls, and one son, Giuseppe, my father. Giuseppe went to law school at the urging of my grandpa and shortly after became the consigliere to the Providence Famiglia. He served alongside the former boss Massimo for most of his life.
Gian and I followed papa everywhere. As soon as we were old enough, we were working. We started out as soldiers initially; we were given some freedom considering who our father is, but we worked tirelessly. If you want your button, you have to be willing to get pushed around a bit. Even the sons of the consigliere have to be hazed. Eventually, we took our oaths. I’ve had my button
for a few years now.
La Cosa Nostra is my family, no way around it.
This is my blood and there's nothing else I want more than this family.
So no, this file, Annie Byrne, is not going to get me stuck in my head.
I grab the damn thing off my desk and open it up. Top of the pile is her photo, which looks like a DMV picture. Annie looks younger in the picture, still with short ashy blonde waves and bright blue eyes. She looks innocent, naïve. No record, I note. She’s never been arrested, not even a misdemeanor. The girl never even had a parking infraction. Annie Byrne is basically a saint. She’s a nurse's aid at Oakland Retirement Community, a fact I already knew. She takes classes at the local community college, studying to be an LPN, licensed practical nurse.
Next, her childhood.
Now things were starting to click.
Her father, Danny Byrne, has been arrested repeatedly for petty theft. It looks like he has his own gambling problem, not to mention a problem with the bottle.
Her brother, Johnny Byrne, has his own rap sheet of petty crimes. Stealing, loitering, public nuisance, the list goes on.
The other members of the Bryne family are a mess.
Mother, nothing. It looked like she left when Annie was young and never came back.
That’s why Annie was so protective of her piece of shit brother, she was basically raising him.
I’ve seen shit like that among lower-level dealers who had to take over raising siblings for their parents. That kind of responsibility so young could mess with a kid.
Is that what Annie was going through? Did she have to step in for her parents and raise her younger brother? Is that why she’d put herself on the line to protect him?
I toss the papers back on my desk.
Fuck.
I’m doing exactly what I told myself not to do, I’m falling for the pretty blonde-haired girl with a sad backstory.
I scrub a hand down my face.
“What’s with that pissy look?”
I look up to find my brother entering my office.
“Nothing,” I groan. “Just reading a file on someone.”
Gian lifts the picture of Annie off my desk with a whistle. “Some research.”
“Stop.” I snatch the photo back from him, placing it back in the file and shoving the whole thing into my desk drawer.
“Who is she?” he asks.
“Who’s asking?”
For my brother, I don’t have to answer shit. If my boss is asking, though, then I don't have much of a choice.
Gian gives me a look, “Really now?”
“Yeah.” I lean back into my leather office chair. “My brother or my boss?”
He chuckles. “Okay, which one will make you talk, yeah?”
“She’s helping with our next job.” I laugh.
“The Pearce one?” he asks, slipping into the seat across from my desk. His smirk has disappeared, the Pearce job is important, it needs to go absolutely perfectly.
“Yep. We needed someone small to get in through the vent. Turns out she’s the perfect size.”
“Where’d you find her?”
A grin forms on my face. “Well,”
“Gio. Tell me you didn’t do something stupid. I can’t handle that right now.” Gian scrubs a hand down his face. The man is stressed. The power vacuum in the city has left him taking on more responsibility, which is what he wants. It also has him fighting with some fellow capos. A civil war was not what Providence needed.
“Then don’t ask.” I retort.
“Where’d she come from?” Gian leans forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees.
“She has a shitty brother. I offered to pay off a debt for him if she worked for me.”
He sighs. “You know that’s a dangerous game you’re playing.” Extortion, blackmail, whatever you wanted to call it has a good track record, but every once in a while someone tries to be a hero, and that normally doesn’t work out for them.
Gian was insinuating that one day, I might have to kill Annie Bryne.
I’m not looking forward to that possibility.
“Yep.” I know.
“What if she does something stupid?”
“She won’t. I’m watching her.” Like a hawk, I refrain from adding. I keep her tracking up on my phone non-stop, I always know where she is and what she’s doing.
“If this comes back to bite us in the ass you’re taking care of it, you hear me?”
I smile. “I hear ya, but it won’t. I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something good then, will ya?”
And that was that.
Annie Byrne was part of the team now.
“I think Lil Bobby is willing to have a sit down with you,” I tell him, relaxing back into my chair.
“Lil Bobby,” he mused.
Bobby was another Capo in la Famiglia. There was a hierarchy. The boss, who ruled over everything, he was the one who was in charge. His underboss, the second in command, he typically took care of things, met with the men, handled issues, and so on. The consigliere, our father Giuseppe, who acted as an advisor to the boss. In Giuseppe’s case, he also gave legal advice and worked any cases for made men. Then there were the capos. In Providence, there were five men who made up this group. Gian, Lil Bobby, Nicky, Big Joe, and me. Bobby and Joe had been made before us, and they considered themselves our seniors. They were older and had taken part in our training and initiation, but they were old guards and it was time for some fresh blood to run the family.
Nicky was promoted around the same time as me and is loyal to Gian. Gian already had over half the family on his side. If he got Bobby it would be over. Big Joe’s opinion would no longer matter. He was trying to be civil here; he didn’t want to start a war, but forced retirement for men who wouldn’t follow was still an option.
“Set it up.” Gian told me.
A smile rose on my face. “You got it.”
This city is ours.
I pull my Porsche up to Annie’s apartment building at 6:00 AM sharp. There’s a bit of a thrill in being an asshole for me. Today is Annie’s only day off this week, and I’m about to wake her up to go running with me.
Selfish, that’s what my family would call it.
I’d call it a power move. She still needs to know I'm in charge here.
I pound on the front door to wake her. “Up and at ‘em” I greet with a smirk when she finally answers.
Her blonde hair is disheveled from being slept on, blue eyes still foggy with a hint of sleep, and she’s dressed in polka dot pajama shorts and a plain white v neck.
I take a second to admire her bare legs before bringing my gaze back to her face. Even half asleep and pissed off, Annie is gorgeous. There’s no denying that.
“What?” her groggy voice asks in a low growl.
“Time for training.”
Her left eyebrow raises. “Training?”
“Need to get your stamina up.” I lean against the door frame casually. “Let’s go.”
I give her a chance to make a cup of coffee that she brews in an old coffee maker. She senses my distaste. “What, you don’t like coffee?” she asks, leaning against the counter. Her legs are still bare and she has an arm wrapped around her in a feeble attempt to cover her tits.
“No, I don’t like that you make it in that.” Maybe I’m a bit of a coffee snob, but the thought of drinking something out of that old twelve serving coffee maker makes me cringe. Don’t even get me started on the cheap coffee grinds she uses.
She doesn’t engage in my coffee debate, instead, she takes her last sip from the ceramic mug and leaves me to get changed.
She emerges minutes later dressed in black yoga pants and a loose-fitting Providence High School t-shirt. Her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head. She slips her sock-clad feet into a pair of worn-out sneakers and looks at me expectantly.
“Where are we going?”
I answer her question with a sly smile and lea
d her to my car.
She’s frustrated when I don’t give her answers, and honestly, I like her that way.
I like seeing her pissed off at me. I feed off her annoyance.
I drive us to Blackstone Park where there is an easy three-mile trail I like to run. She looks uneasy as I navigate through the woods.
“Where are we going?” she asks again, this time in a shakier voice. I wonder if she’s watched too many mob movies, and she thinks this is it, this is the moment where I clip her. I have whacked people in the woods, it’s a good method, but not here. This is one of my favorite places to visit, I wouldn’t tarnish it by making it a crime scene.
“Calm down.” I tell her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her blue eyes look at me. “I think that's what everyone says before they hurt someone.”
I chuckle, her snarky comebacks aren’t even original, but the fact that she talks back to me is amusing.
I drive down the winding road to the parking lot. She sighs, a sound of relief when she realizes there's a parking lot with other cars and we’re not alone. We both get out of the car and I point to the trail I want to run.
“Why are we doing this?” She groans as she watches me stretch my calves.
“In case you need to run,” I tell her a small piece of information.
Her face twists in confusion. “Why would I need to run?”
“In case we get caught,” I answer nonchalantly.
“Why would we get caught?” she asks.
I feel like I’m playing twenty questions with a kid here. I give her a serious look. “Enough questions.” I lead her over to the trail and start to run at a slow pace, I’m not sure how much stamina she has.
She heaves a breathless sigh. “I just want to know what I’m getting myself into.”
“Okay,” I hum under my breath, I’ll give her an inch. “If we get caught, I need to know that you can keep up with us. We might have to run, and I can’t leave you behind and we can’t risk getting taken in. So you need to be ready.”
She considers this for a moment; the wheels are turning in her head. “Oh,” she says.
I laugh, “Just oh?”
“So… if I can’t keep up, what happens?”
“That’s not an option.”
She stops suddenly, bringing her elbows to her knees and heaving a breath.
Gio: The DelGado Trilogy (An Enemies to Lovers Romance) Page 5