Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family #2)

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Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family #2) Page 10

by Amanda Washington


  She eyed me.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine. We’re all good. Still going to the gym every day. Best buds.” I forced a smile.

  Although we hadn’t spoken about what happened on Sunrise Mountain, Bones had plenty of other things to say to me, like “Raise your hands,” “Protect your face,” and my personal favorite, “Don’t drop your shoulder.” He seemed obsessed with making sure I could defend myself. We’d graduated from the punching bag, and he was now letting me take swings at him. I had yet to make contact, but sometimes I really wanted to. Finished with my makeup, I stuffed it into my new bag and turned to face Markie. “I have to get to work.”

  Her face scrunched up and she looked at her phone. “But Angel and Bones aren’t back yet and you have plenty of time.”

  I shouldered the Coach bag I was trying really hard not to hate. The purse was beautiful, but every time I looked at it I couldn’t help but wish it was something else, something more personal or meaningful. I wanted something that shouted Bones’s everlasting love for me, or even something that told me to go jump in a lake because he wasn’t interested. I just needed to know where I stood with the guy.

  “Not if I plan on taking the bus.”

  “They don’t want you taking the bus. Angel says it’s not safe right now.”

  “‘Angel says,’” I mimicked. “What are you? His pretty little parrot? Listen, I have ridden the bus thousands of times. Sure, there’s the occasional creep, but it’s public transportation and full of… well, public. Nobody’s gonna do anything in broad daylight on a crowded bus. On Christmas Day. Besides, I need a little time to myself. It feels like the four of us are living on top of each other and I have no time alone.”

  Markie frowned, which admittedly played on my conscience, but this wasn’t about her. This was about me, needing to get my head screwed on right.

  She started to object in that annoying older-sister-filling-in-for-an-absent-mother way of hers, but before she could nag me to death I counter-attacked. I went in for a hug, and said, “Make sure you don’t overdo it tonight. Do not get on the floor with the kids.”

  Her mouth gaped open, giving me the time I needed to get out the door. It had been so long since I’d gone anywhere alone, fleeing the building before Angel and Bones returned felt like Mission Impossible. The theme song even played in my mind as I crept down the hallway and slunk into the elevator. Knowing Markie was probably already on the phone ratting me out, I half-expected to run into my jailers the instant the elevator doors chimed open. When they weren’t there, I was so relieved I almost laughed out loud. Feeling free and like I was getting away with something, I hurried for the exit. The guard in the lobby gave me a puzzled look, but didn’t try to stop me.

  Pulling my jacket tight against the cool December air, I made my way toward the nearest bus stop. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but since I had a pretty good idea who it was, I ignored it until I was safely on the bus. Only then did I check the text message from Bones. It asked me to please wait for him but it was too late. The bus was already en route. Smiling as I sent the text to tell him this, I sat and waited for his reply.

  Minutes passed with no reply. I felt a pang of regret and wondered if he’d see my defiance as immature, because now that the high of escaping was wearing off, it did kind of feel that way. But then I came to my senses. I was riding a bus to work, not doing something dangerous or illegal. People lived through the experience every day, and I was pretty sure the odds of surviving were in my favor. Yes, bad guys had gone after my sister, but only because she was protecting her boyfriend’s little siblings. I, on the other hand, had no boyfriend and was a nobody. Bones was paid to be paranoid, but I couldn’t let his madness affect my independence. I refused to be sheltered from the big bad world by anyone. Even if that anyone happened to have a smokin’ hot body and could melt my panties with a kiss.

  Despite the concerns of my paranoid roommates, I lived through my bus ride to work just fine. Bones never did reply to my text, and I couldn’t decide if I was disappointed or relieved about his lack of communication.

  The combination of garlands, lights, and the smell of ham and mashed potatoes made me painfully aware this was the third Christmas in a row I’d spent alone. Four years ago Markie had come home from college during the holiday, determined to make it a little less sucky by trying her hand at Mom’s old recipes. We did our best, but holiday dishes were well beyond our expertise. The ham was dry, served with runny mashed potatoes and chunky macaroni and cheese. The only edible course was dessert, thanks to the store-bought chocolate cream pie.

  Despite the ruined food and the lack of additional family, Markie and I had a blast that year. And as I delivered the dinner special to two little old ladies—sisters—guilt gnawed at me. Markie was the only real family I had left, and I should be spending every holiday with her. So why wasn’t I? I could have requested the time off or called in sick. Hell, Piper wasn’t on the schedule today and she’d volunteered to take my shift for the time-and-a-half pay. But I’d said no, not because I was afraid of Angel’s family, but because I didn’t want to spend the holiday with Markie. I couldn’t. I didn’t deserve another family Christmas. Not after what I’d done to her.

  The day dragged on, taking much longer than any day should. Bones was waiting for me after my shift, leaning against the wall of the casino where he could watch the main entrance, the floor, and the restaurant entrance. He looked irritated, so I approached with an apology.

  “Sorry about earlier. I was already on the bus when I got your text.”

  He pushed off the wall and headed for the main door. “You knew I was coming back to take you to work.” Since I couldn’t deny that, I followed him out to the parking lot. Once we were in the Hummer, he asked, “Why’d you take the bus?”

  A thousand excuses formed on my tongue—everything from needing to buy tampons to meeting with a guy for coffee—but I didn’t want to lie to Bones.

  “You’ve been avoiding me. I thought I’d make it more comfortable for both of us.”

  “Fair enough.” He started up the engine and headed out of the parking lot. “But don’t do it again.”

  That pissed me off. “Don’t do what? Take a bus? Ohmigod, Bones, I am a grown-ass woman. You can’t keep me off public transportation and make me depend on you for a ride. Or for anything else for that matter. Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m the guy trying to keep you safe.”

  Something inside of me snapped. I opened my mouth, and all my confusion and frustration came rushing out.

  “Safe from who? Because as far as I can tell, the only one I really need protection from is you. You know I like you, and you screw with my feelings and make me think you actually give a damn about me, too. You tell me all this shit about your mom… your past… you take me to your secret spot and... fine, I probably read too much into the situation. Romantic dinner, honest conversation, sue me for believing you wanted the same thing I did. I gambled our friendship for a chance at something more, and clearly that was the wrong play. I screwed up, and I am hurt and upset about it, and—” My voice cracked. I wanted to ask him what the Coach bag had meant, but even thinking the words made me feel ungrateful. I swallowed them back. “—and you can’t make me ride with you every day, pretending none of that happened.”

  Stupid tears leaked down my face, making me feel even more weak and vulnerable. I turned toward the side window and brushed them away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did, though. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me he was sorry.

  I choked back a sob, straightened, and stared out the window. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” I lied.

  We rode the rest of the rest of the way in silence, and when we got to the condo, Bones dropped me off and left again.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Bones

  SATURDAY NIGHT, ANGEL’S parents were going to some sort of charity dinner and the nanny was unavailable, so Angel and Markie dragged me
and Ariana with them to keep an eye on Angel’s siblings. Worried about Ariana, I spent the ride coaching her on what to say and how to act when she met the Marianis. The last thing we needed was for her to accidentally insult them.

  “You know I’m housebroken, right?” Ariana asked. “I promise not to pee on their carpet or hump anyone’s leg.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” Markie said, giggling.

  I wasn’t amused. “This is serious, Ari. You don’t know how important respect is to the family. They don’t tolerate any disrespect.”

  “And I’m mouthy. But I’ll be on my best behavior. You’ll see. Parents love me. And ohmigod is this ‘The Fortress’?” she asked, gaping out the window.

  Angel chuckled at Markie’s nickname for his dad’s home.

  “Holy crap, the guards really are carrying semi-automatics,” Ariana said.

  I had to admit, the sight of the boss’s house still unnerved me. Armed guards waved us in while security cameras tracked our vehicle. A maid let us in to a gorgeous foyer, decorated in the browns and oranges of autumn, where we waited to be received. A curvy redhead wearing a low-cut glittery green gown and a jewelry store worth of diamonds came down the wraparound staircase and greeted us with all the forced joy of a mall Santa.

  “Angel, Bones, Markie, thank you for coming,” Rachelle said with her signature plastic smile. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to this, Markie?”

  “I’ll make sure she doesn’t overdo it,” Angel said, squeezing Markie to him.

  Markie gave him an annoyed look. “Yes ma’am. I’m feeling much better. As I told everyone at Christmas.”

  The hair rose on the back of my neck when Rachele turned her attention onto Ariana. “Markie’s sister. Yes, I remember seeing you at the emergency room, but I don’t believe we were introduced.”

  Angel stepped in. “Rachele, this is Ariana. Ari, my stepmother, Rachele.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ariana replied. “Beautiful gown, by the way.”

  I eyed Rachele’s dress, wondering if Ariana was being serious. The thing was cut down to almost her belly button, revealing an eyeful of augmented cleavage.

  “Thank you. It was a gift from a local designer, Fabio Meda. The man is a genius and this little number is his generous contribution to tonight’s charity ball.” Then she dismissed Ariana and turned back to Angel. “Dom is almost finished, and then we’ll head out. Angel, I trust your father sent you the new security specs?”

  The house had been attacked only weeks ago. Although the damage had been extensive, all evidence of it was gone. Seriously, not even a trace of new paint smell. If I hadn’t seen the bullet holes firsthand, I’d never believe it had happened.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Please call immediately if there’s any trouble.”

  “Where are Georgie and Luci?” Markie asked, looking around.

  “Hiding,” Rachele said with a huff. “Constantly. It’s their new favorite game. Makes it nearly impossible to get anywhere on time.”

  A bigger, older, intimidating version of Angel came down the stairs. Power and money wafted from Dominico Mariani, their presence as real as the fat luxury watch he secured around his wrist as he descended. He acknowledged us with a nod before ushering Rachele out the door. The second we heard their car start, Angel started prowling around the house.

  “Now we hunt down the beasts,” he said.

  Young laughter came from the hallway.

  Angel headed in that direction with Markie on his heels. He turned and frowned at her. “Not you. You should go sit in the family room. I’ll round them up and bring them in.”

  “Right.” Markie sighed. “I’ll go stare at Rachele’s fascinating magazine collection while you have all the fun.”

  He and Markie took off while I patted Ariana on the arm. “You did great. You can breathe now. They’re gone.”

  She blew out a breath. “That’s Angel’s dad, huh?”

  I grinned. Not only that, he was the capo dei capi, the boss of the Las Vegas families, but Ariana didn’t need to know that bit of information. “Don’t worry. He has that effect on everyone.”

  She was about to say something else, but I hushed her. “You hear that?” I asked, listening.

  “Wha—”

  I put a finger to her lips and pointed toward the kitchen before slipping my oxfords off and creeping that direction. Ariana followed. When we stepped onto the tile floor, I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled to the island, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Ariana was still behind me. I had a pretty good idea of who we were stalking, and if I was right, I’d need backup.

  I rounded the corner and let out the loudest roar I could. Luciana jumped three feet in the air—almost doubling her height—before squealing and sprinting past me. I reached for her, but the little booger was fast. She ran around the long dining room table once, twice, a third time, and each time, I gained on her.

  “Are you gonna help me?” I asked, looking to Ariana who was laughing at the sight.

  “I can’t,” she said between fits of giggles. “This looks too much like a Tom and Jerry episode.”

  Realizing she was right, I eased up. Luciana took advantage of the break and dove under the table. I groaned, knowing I’d have to go in after her.

  “Good move, Luci!” Ariana cheered.

  “Who are you rooting for here?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

  She shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the grin from her face. “Sorry. I meant get her, Bones. Yeah, that’s it.”

  Luciana giggled.

  I lunged for her.

  “Help me, Ari!” Luciana shouted.

  Ariana rushed in, but I had no idea which side she was on. I fell back, and Luciana sprinted out from under the table to join up with her brother, who was still evading Angel. We chased the little curtain-climbers around the house until they were good and tired. Angel’s other two sisters, Sonia and Sofia, emerged from their rooms, phones in hand, and let us know they were starving half to death and expected us to rectify the situation. They were thirteen and eleven going on twenty, wearing makeup and leggings with sweaters, but ate like college-aged boys. We ordered pizza and settled around the table. Georgio and Luciana gave us the rundown on the days since Christmas.

  “Has father stepped up your training?” Angel asked.

  Sonia nodded, flicking mushrooms off her slice of pizza. “Yep and it’s been brutal. He brought in a trainer who’s literally trying to kill us.”

  “You mean figuratively, and I doubt it. He’s literally trying to keep you alive,” I said. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.”

  “But check out the guns I’m getting,” Georgio said, standing and posing to flex his biceps and chest.

  “That’s nothing. Mine are bigger,” Luciana said, joining him.

  “What’s the trainer been working on?” I asked.

  “Pressure points,” Sofia said. “Where to hit people to make them stop breathing. How to use pepper spray. Stuff like that.”

  “Hey, that’s what my trainer’s been working on, too,” Ariana said, eyeing me.

  “Wanna spar?” Luciana asked.

  “Spar?” Ariana’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “You know martial arts, too?”

  Luciana grinned.

  “I would, but you’d definitely kick my butt.”

  Angel laughed. “You’re probably right. They’ve had years of conditioning, and I know their trainer is way better than Bones.”

  “Ha-ha, funny boy. I’m good enough to keep your sorry as—butt alive.”

  “Where’s Dante?” Angel asked.

  “Dante’s sad,” Luciana said.

  “He stays in his room most of the time,” Georgio added. “Dad told us not to bug him. He needs time to be alone right now.”

  Angel’s expression fell. He and his seventeen-year-old brother used to be close, but over the past few years their father’s manipulation had driven
a wedge between them. Most recently, Angel had threatened to blow up Dante’s car. The car did blow up, and although neither Angel nor I had been involved in that mess, it had been too much of a coincidence for Dante to ignore. The collateral damage had been enough to sever their relationship for good. Angel was probably the last person Dante wanted to see right now.

  “I’ll go check on him,” I said, piling an extra plate with pizza.

  “Thanks, man,” Angel said.

  I found Dante in his bedroom, lights off, curtains closed, reclining in a gaming chair in front of his television. I tapped on the door as I pushed it open, but he didn’t acknowledge me. The sound of gunfire drew my attention to the screen; Dante was deep into some sort of first-person shooter game. I stood back and watched, waiting until he finished the round before setting the plate of pizza down at the base of his television.

  “Hey,” I said. “Got another controller?”

  He handed me one and queued us up for a game.

  My family was never big on discussing our emotions. When Pops disappeared, I would occasionally hear Ma crying late at night when she thought we were asleep, but we never talked about it. Like normal people, we bottled our emotions and kept putting one foot in front of the other. But I could tell by Dante’s greasy curls, dirty, rumpled clothes, and bloodshot eyes he’d stopped moving forward. The kid had watched his girlfriend blow up along with his car. He probably needed a professionally-trained counselor to help him deal with that kind of shit. A counselor would be seen as a sign of weakness, though, and there was no way Dominco Mariani would allow his son to be seen as weak.

  So we handled it like wiseguys and let the elephant take up the whole damn room as we blew faces off.

  “Sniper in that building to your right,” I said, ducking my character behind a car as bullets rained down on me.

  Dante sneaked around and shot the guy in the head. “Got him.”

  “Thanks.”

  We played three rounds before I returned the controller and stood to leave.

  “What? You’re not gonna lecture me?” he asked.

 

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