Carlo chuckled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. You’ll be doing that shit soon enough. Those messages go out to everyone on the family network and the first person who sees him needs to take action. There’ll be a nice bonus in it for the guy who gets him.”
Wondering if he meant what I thought he meant, I stared up at my mentor. Carlo fashioned his hand into a gun and mocked blowing his brains out. Yep, I nailed it.
He gestured at my phone. “See, Tech has already made the message go poof. Can’t risk information getting into the wrong hands.”
The message was gone. It was a neat trick, but my curiosity wasn’t deterred. “Why would anyone hide from the family?” The Marianis kept my family fed and protected. Sure, Carlo was a tough teacher, and my body had a few new scars, but I’d learned how to fight and how to stay alive. The Marianis had done a hell of a lot more for me than my own family had.
He tapped the steering wheel a few times, and I got the feeling he was trying to put his words into kid-friendly speech. He was trying to dumb it down so I could understand.
“Jones is an enforcer,” he finally said. “You remember what I told you about enforcers?”
“They enforce the rules of the borgata, the family.”
“How?” he asked.
They were big, scary guys who only an idiot would screw with. I’d met a couple of enforcers, and they wouldn’t have to lift a finger to keep me in line. “I’m not sure.”
He lit a cigarette and sucked in a long drag. Then he asked, “What’s the one thing I tell you the most, kid?”
I only had to think about it for a second before answering, “Don’t trust anyone.”
“Good, you’re learning. Yes, don’t trust anyone. In our line of work, ninety-nine percent of the people you deal with are gonna be honor-less thugs who’ll just as soon stick a knife in your back as look at you. The remaining one percent are idiots. That’s the world we live in, kid, so the boss makes rules to keep all these greedy, blood-thirsty bastards in check and to keep the cops off our asses. When someone gets out of line, the boss calls in an enforcer to set ’em straight. You understand?”
“They’re like hitmen?” I asked.
Carlo smiled and ruffled my hair. “You’re a smart kid.”
But something still didn’t make sense. “But the enforcer’s in trouble?”
“It takes a certain kind of guy to be a hitman. Has to be completely devoted to the family and willing to take out anyone the boss orders him to hit. Anyone. Sometimes he’ll take too many jobs… do too many hits… and something inside him snaps. Some go numb, some get off on it. Those are the ones you really gotta watch for. Sick bastards. Before you know it, they’re making unauthorized hits, whackin’ people in broad daylight, wiping out entire families.”
I gaped at him, unable to believe my ears, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“When the problem solver becomes the problem, we gotta put ’em down. That’s the code the boss sent out just now.”
“Everything okay?” Ariana asked, pulling me from the memory.
I nodded and slipped my phone back into my pocket, wondering about Tanner Goss, the enforcer who’d slipped his leash this time. Did he enjoy killing? When Carlo and I had that conversation, the idea of making a hit still made me sick. But when Renzo splattered Jimmy’s brains all over the restaurant wall I hadn’t felt a twinge of anything for the poor bastard. No remorse, no pity, no guilt, no queasiness—nothing. Would Carlo consider me another “sick bastard” who he needed to watch?
Come on, Bones. Jimmy was a dad and a husband. You should feel something.
Trying to manufacture sympathy for his wife and kids just made me feel numb inside. It was a job, and I’d done what I was supposed to do like I always did. My God, what sort of cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch was I becoming?
“Are you okay?” Ariana asked.
Was I? Over the years I’d become a damn good enforcer, which made me a pretty shitty human being. It was the reason I stayed the hell away from relationships. Angel was the only person I knew I wouldn’t be able to kill. Well, Angel and Ma. Even after everything she’d put me through, I’d defend her with my life.
“Bones?”
“Yeah, just thinking about life.”
If the boss ordered me to take Ariana out, I’d be in trouble. What about Markie? Killing Markie would essentially be like killing Angel. Especially once they were married. Shit. When had I picked up so many liabilities?
“Sounds deep.”
She had no idea. Desperate to get out of my own head, I picked up the bags. “I got the food. You wanna get the blanket out of the back?”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this, but it sounds kinky. I’m in.” She grinned and hopped out of the Hummer. When she opened the back, she asked, “And why does Angel keep a blanket in his car?”
“Survival. You never know when you’re gonna get stranded somewhere.”
Or when you’re gonna need to wrap up a body.
“You and Angel stranded?” She laughed. “Is that like having to settle for a three-star hotel?”
If she had any idea of the gear stored in Angel’s ride, she’d probably think we were terrorists.
I led her to a flat spot off the road where we laid out the blanket, sat side-by-side, and dished out food. Then halfway through the meal she called me a romantic.
“What the hell did you say to me?” I asked.
“Oh come on. You gotta know this is romantic. You can growl and snarl at me all you want—which, by the way, that’s hot—but I know the truth, you big softie.”
“I was hungry, you didn’t want to go home, this made sense,” I defended.
“Right. This is totally what all the other big, buff thugs would do.”
“Why do I keep you around again?” I asked.
She leaned against me and the soft, sweet scent of her tickled my senses. “Because I’m charming and witty, and you’re trying to get in my pants.” She looked down at the piece of clothing currently riding up her thighs and corrected herself. “Er, skirt.”
After the past couple of days, I was wound so tight I felt like I’d snap and do something we’d both regret. “I told you, I’m not the kind of man you should tease, Ari.”
“And I told you, I’m not teasing. You know, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble. You could have just—”
“Why do you do that?” I asked.
“Do what? Hit on you?”
“No.” I was pretty sure why she hit on me. She liked to drive me crazy. “Why do you sell yourself short? You act like you’re not worthy of anyone’s time, money, or effort. Like you think the only thing you have to offer is your body. I don’t get it, Ari. Yeah, you’re gorgeous, but you’re also a damn cool chick. Why do you put yourself down like that?”
Her smile slipped away and she stood with her back to me, facing the lights of the city. Knowing I’d upset her, I gave her a minute alone before I joined her. The night was cool, so I took off my suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Bones,” she whispered.
“What? Your past? You think you’re the only one who’s done shit you’re not proud of? You gotta let that go.”
She sighed. “I know.” Then she leaned against me again. “Thanks for the jacket. And for bringing me to your secret spot. And for dinner. I’m still pretty pissed about you not getting us a bottle of wine, though.”
“I told you, I don’t contribute to minors.” I draped an arm over her shoulders.
She reached up and laced her fingers in mine. “Yeah, yeah.”
We stood like that for a while, watching the lights of the city as our problems faded to the background. It felt comfortable and peaceful to be with Ariana like this, above the world.
Finally, she tugged on my hand. “We’re a lot alike, you know?”
“How’s that?”
“Doing what we gotta do to survive. Skatin’ the edge
. Sometimes I feel like I’m about to fall over.”
I nodded, knowing full well what she was talking about.
She turned to face me, tugging me closer until our faces were inches apart. Her eyes were dilated and her breathing was heavy. She held me there, searching my face.
“So let’s make a deal,” she whispered.
“I’m listening.”
“You keep me from falling over my edge, and I’ll do the same for you.”
Locked in the moment, I stared at her, wondering what to say. Sure, she knew how to calm me down, but if I ever stepped over the edge I wanted her as far from me as possible. And what edge was Ariana teetering over? Drugs? Suicide? Beyond the sarcasm and the jokes there was something broken and hurting inside her. I wanted to put it back together.
Still staring into my eyes, she brushed a kiss against my lips.
Before I could think about what I was doing, my hands wrapped around her waist to pull her closer. Our lips met again, this time with hungry intensity. She moaned, letting me past her teeth. My pulse raced as I pressed her body to mine, feeling every curve of her. I wanted more. I wanted to rip off her clothes and stretch her across that blanket and…
My phone buzzed. The vibration in my pocket slapped me back into reality and, breathing heavily, I pulled away to check it.
What the hell am I doing?
I glanced at the display, expecting it to be someone claiming to have bagged and tagged Goss. Instead, one of my contacts finally had a beat on Matt Deter. The reminder of who and what I was cleared my head. If I made it out of this city alive and if Ariana came with me, then I’d give in to what we both wanted. But until that day, I needed to focus on keeping us both alive.
Lips plump and wet, eyes hooded, breathing heavily, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Work calls. I gotta get going.”
She didn’t say anything—just walked over and started cleaning up the food. I joined her, bagging up the leftovers before folding up the blanket and sticking it all in the Hummer. Then, we were on our way back to the city. Ariana still hadn’t said a word.
“I’ll drop you off at the condo,” I said.
She nodded.
Then I’d go hunt down her ex-boyfriend. Ariana thought she could save me, but I was already dangling over the abyss.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ariana
THURSDAY WAS CHRISTMAS. I was actually sleeping in when Markie woke me at o’dark thirty to exchange presents, which I wasn’t particularly looking forward to. Knowing she wouldn’t leave me alone until we got it over with, I followed her into the living room and sat beside Bones. Markie—giggling with excitement—turned on Christmas music and handed me a small present.
Bones, bless his heart, passed me a cup of coffee. “You’re gonna need this,” he said. Then he refilled his own cup from the pot resting on the coffee table. Neither of us knew what to do with what had happened on Sunrise Mountain, which meant I was confused and frustrated, but we were pretending like the whole thing never happened.
Markie nudged my hand on her present. “Open it,” she urged. Then she sat on Angel’s lap in the recliner, wrapping her arm around his neck and looking the spirit of Christmas joy.
I took a gulp of coffee before eyeing the small package. “You should open mine first,” I said, still trying to wake up.
Markie deflated, making me feel like a real bitchy Scrooge. Trying to save face, I stood, walked over to the Christmas tree, retrieved the gift I’d gotten Markie, and tossed it to her. She snatched it out of the air and shook it.
“We’ll open them together,” I said.
Markie grinned, waiting for me to return to my seat. Then we both went to work opening our gifts. She got me a gorgeous leaf necklace and matching earrings. I got her a sweater I’d seen her eyeballing before she’d gone into the hospital.
We shared a moment of happiness and gratitude before things got awkward. Angel, Bones, Markie, and I all looked from the tree to one another, locked in some twisted game of chicken. Who would be the first one to put their gift out there? What if the other person read too much into it? What if they didn’t like it? Man, I hated Christmas.
Markie unwound herself from Angel and headed for the tree. She came back with two gifts, handing Angel his before she sat back down on his lap with hers. Then they looked at me and Bones expectantly.
Right. This was clearly gonna be a group thing. I went to the tree and came back with the remaining two presents. After handing Bones his, I studied the package he’d given me. It was big and light, like a box for a pillow or something.
Finally, curiosity seemed to overcome our fear, and all four of us began tearing paper. I held back, waiting to see the other gifts before opening my own. Angel got Markie adoption certificates. Seriously, he gave her a box of cards with photos and information for what looked like half a dozen African kids they’d be supporting together now. My sister turned into a blubbering mess as she sifted through the pictures before trying to kiss Angel’s face off. In return, she’d gotten him some sort of electronic gadget that he raved about.
I looked to Bones. He opened the wrapped box I’d given him and paused, staring inside at the contents. On Christmas Eve and still without a gift for him, I’d panicked and spent way too much money on a gift certificate for a foodie tour for two. The certificate was wrapped around a gun-shaped hair comb I’d also included because it reminded me of him: dark, sleek, well-groomed, and deadly.
He arched an eyebrow, unwinding the gift certificate to reveal the comb. His eyes were laughing when he looked at me.
“What?” I asked. “Come on, that is so you. And the gift certificate… it’s for two, but totally not meant for me to go with you.”
He read the certificate and cocked his head. “You don’t want to come with me?”
“Not what I meant. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to take me because I bought it for you. I want you to be able to take whoever you want and…”
He didn’t answer. Did not say one damn word.
And I was rambling, trying to fill all the blank space between us. Desperate for a topic change, I ripped the paper off my gift and plunged into the box. It was a beautiful Coach bag.
“I noticed yours is getting worn,” Bones explained.
He’d noticed my bag and spent a grip of money to replace it, which was thoughtful, sweet, expensive, and yet somehow still impersonal. A purse? What did a purse mean? It sure wasn’t romantic.
“If you don’t like it, we can take it back,” Bones said. “Get you something else.”
“No, it’s great. It’s perfect.” It just didn’t tell me a thing about how he felt about me. I’d gotten him something I knew he’d love and hoped he’d share the experience with me, and he got me a freaking purse? “I love it. Thank you.”
I was getting ready for work when Markie came into the bathroom, collapsed on the side of the bathtub, and gave me a pathetic sigh.
I rolled my eyes and pulled the straightening iron through my hair. “No.”
“Oh, come on. It’s one night. Christmas. You can call in and spend one holiday with family, can’t you?”
Probably, but there was no way I would. And thankfully, I had an easy out. “I forget, tell me again what happened the first time you had dinner with Angel’s family,” I said.
“That was different,” she said, lowering her gaze.
Different didn’t even begin to describe it. From what I’d heard, she’d practically been strip-searched for trying to get into Angel’s Hummer for her migraine medicine. I didn’t need that kind of attention in my life. There was only one suited stud I wanted ripping my clothes off, and he didn’t seem to be interested in the task.
“No. This is your mess. You’re the one dating the spawn of the big bad wolf.”
“And you’re my sister. You’re supposed to hold my hand and walk with me through the dark and scary mansion.”
I cracked a smile. “I’m pretty sure the girl i
n the red hood is a solo act. One girl. Definitely singular.”
“You could play the grandma?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
So what if I couldn’t use my years of drama class to get an audition? At least it still provided sound information so I could argue with my sister. I set down the iron and leveled a stare at her. “The grandma gets eaten, remember? No thank you.”
She threw her head back dramatically, almost falling into the tub. “Don’t make me do this alone.”
“I’m not. You’ll have Angel and Bones with you. And be careful, would you? I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be throwing that recently-operated on cranium around like that.”
She grunted. “You sound like Angel. I’m fine. Feeling so much better. The headaches are almost gone.” She righted herself on the tub and leaned forward, all conspiratorial. “Bones got you such a nice gift.”
“Yep.”
She frowned. “But you’re not happy about it. Why?”
Because I’d gotten him a tour I desperately wanted him to take me along on, and he’d gotten me a purse. And I was over-analyzing the gift and would feel like an idiot if Bones ever found out how much it was messing with me. I was confused and a little hurt, and probably bordering psychotic for feeling that way. I dabbed concealer on my face and lied through my teeth. “I am. It’s a good friend gift.”
“Friend gift? You think he’s friend-zoning you?”
Gah. I’d already told her too much, but now that it was out there, I couldn’t take it back. “I know he is.”
“Why? What happened?”
The concern in her voice made me feel even more like an idiot for some reason. Trying to play it off as no big deal, I admitted, “He… kinda shut me down.”
“What?” Markie asked.
“No details. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“But… but… I’m sure it’s not you, Ari. His job is—”
“Complicated. I know. I get it. And we’re cool.”
Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family #2) Page 9