Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family #2)

by Amanda Washington

  “Dante’s on. Want me to invite him?” I asked.

  Angel shrugged. “Sure. He’ll probably ignore the invite anyway.”

  Despite his attitude, I knew Angel missed his little brother. I threw Dante an invite, but he never accepted. After a few minutes we gave up and started without him. About an hour of mindless gameplay turned out to be exactly what I needed to chill the hell out. By the time the girls finally emerged, my mind was almost blissfully blank.

  “Is this what we’re doing tonight?” Markie asked.

  Angel turned to look at her and was immediately shot dead in the game. “Damn,” he breathed. “You look… damn.”

  Markie was a knockout. Her inch-long blonde hair only made her blue eyes look bigger and more intense, and her lips look fuller and more pronounced. The dress she wore pulled attention to all the right places, but she only held my attention for a moment, because Ariana stepped out behind her, wearing a floor-length gown that fit her like a glove. I was immediately torn between wanting to see her on the stage dressed like this, and wanting to lock her away where no horny assholes could molest her with their eyes.

  “It’s not too much, is it?” Ariana asked, sounding hesitant and self-conscious.

  In the background, I barely registered my character being riddled with bullets. I couldn’t look at that, though. Everything I wanted to see was right in front of me. Was it too much? Yes, definitely, because the sight of her caught my skin on fire.

  “No, don’t be silly,” Markie assured her. “You look gorgeous. Doesn’t she, Bones?”

  I stood, officially on the spot. My gaze thirstily drank her in as I tried to compose a reply which didn’t include my tongue rolling out of my mouth.

  “I can change,” Ariana offered. “Wear something a little less—”

  “No.” I finally found my voice. “You look… wow… amazing. Don’t change.”

  She blushed.

  “It looks great on you. I’m glad you like it,” Angel added.

  Ariana spun around. “The nicest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you so much!”

  “My pleasure,” Angel said, opening his arm to Markie, who slid in and hugged him. “Our pleasure, really.”

  I wondered how my stupid homemade present could compete with the dress Angel and Markie had bought her. But before I could think too much on it, Markie ushered us out the door, reminding us we had reservations.

  Markie wobbled a little in the hallway, unsteady on her legs after the surgery followed by more than a month of sitting. “I think my muscles are atrophying,” she said.

  “I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” Angel replied.

  “I told you, I’m not missing my sister’s twenty-first birthday dinner.”

  He tightened his hold around her. “Yes, but a wheelchair—”

  “Is ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”

  Angel didn’t look so sure, but he let her make it almost to the elevator before scooping her up in his arms like they’d just gotten married and he was carrying her over the threshold. I couldn’t help but wonder if my friend was getting in practice. He hadn’t mentioned the ring since we’d picked it up, but the gesture was a glaring reminder he had it.

  “I can walk,” Markie replied. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “But I want to.”

  She smiled and leaned against him, making herself comfortable.

  We took a cab to Uncle Mario’s restaurant, where we were escorted to the table with the best view of the stage. Because of its central location, it left us exposed. No matter where I sat, there were occupied tables at my back. Feeling uneasy, I looked to Angel, who shrugged and pulled out a seat for Markie. Reasoning that we were in Uncle Mario’s restaurant and he wouldn’t have put us where he couldn’t protect us, I gave up and pulled out Ariana’s chair for her.

  The waitress went around the table collecting drink orders, and when she got to me I asked for water.

  Ariana put her hand on my thigh and leaned in. “It’s my birthday, and I want you to relax and have a good time.”

  “I am relaxed,” I objected. Well, as relaxed as I could possibly get, knowing she was in danger, Joey Durante was still breathing, and I was running out of time to fix both problems.

  She handed me the drink menu. “Pick one, or I’ll pick for you.”

  That sounded dangerous, so I played it safe and ordered a beer. Shortly after the waitress brought our drinks and took our food orders, the pianist wrapped up his set. A second microphone was set up in the center of the stage, and the pianist removed it from the stand and spoke into it.

  “Tonight we have a very special treat for you,” he said. “One of our honored guests is celebrating her twenty-first birthday, and I’d like to get her up on the stage.” He looked right at our table. “Ariana, will you be a doll and join me for a moment, please?”

  Ariana’s jaw dropped. “What did you do?” she asked Markie.

  Markie grinned, looking all too guilty. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you better get your butt up there and show the world why you deserve to be on that stage.”

  As Ariana stood and headed up, I scanned the restaurant, searching for the talent scout who promised me he’d be there. When I spotted him leaning against the back wall, Noah gave me a mock salute.

  Ariana’s hands shook as she accepted the microphone from the pianist.

  “Ariana is quite the songbird,” the pianist said. “And tonight, she’ll be performing for us.”

  Ariana’s eyes grew wide. “I will?”

  The pianist chuckled. He whispered something to her and she nodded, still looking uncertain.

  The pianist sat. Then clean, crisp piano notes competed with the chatter of the room. The intro came and went, but Ariana did not raise the microphone to her lips. Her eyes were full of fear as she took in the room. My stomach sank. I looked back at Noah, but his attention was on his phone.

  “Come on, Ari, you’ve got this,” Markie muttered.

  The pianist slowed his notes and came back around to repeat the intro. This time, Ariana raised the mic and sang the first line of the verse, sounding hesitant and barely audible. The chatter of the restaurant grew, drowning her out completely.

  Markie leaned forward in her chair, as if to run up and rescue her sister.

  Ariana stopped midnote and said something to the pianist. He nodded and wound down again as she replaced the microphone in the stand. She was giving up. I turned back to look at Noah, and he shrugged at me before turning to leave. The intro restarted, and Noah looked up at the stage and froze. I followed his gaze to find Ariana staring back, her eyes glowing with determination. She took a deep breath, and this time, when she opened her mouth, there was zero hesitation.

  Ariana’s strong, powerful alto owned the room, snapping all conversations to a halt as it dipped and rose, flirting and promising. The entire restaurant fell silent, captivated by her voice. By the time she reached the chorus, we were enslaved. She grabbed hold of the microphone stand and belted out soul-filled notes, riding the bluesy-jazzy edge of the song like an orphan raised on the streets of the deep south.

  I watched her glow with passion and power, realizing I was seeing her for the first time. Beyond the sarcastic, struggling orphan girl who almost died trying to escape reality, she was this woman—this perfect, enchanting, passionate woman, and I loved every damaged inch of her. Like the rest of the crowd, I gobbled up the sight and sound of her, like an addict shooting up after a long dry spell. She entered my veins and lingered, soothing, calming, enchanting. The song ended too soon, leaving me wanting. I peeled my gaze from her and sought out Noah. He paused his wild clapping to give me two thumbs up.

  He loved her. Everyone in the restaurant did. She got a standing ovation. It was exactly what I’d wanted, what Ariana wanted, what we all wanted. So why did I feel so apprehensive about it?

  Ariana handed the pianist back his microphone, but he only accepted it long enough to ask t
he crowd if they wanted to hear more. Enthusiastic cheering encouraged Ariana and the pianist to put their heads together and come up with two more songs. She performed them just as perfectly as she did the first.

  The kitchen held our food back until Ariana thanked the crowd and the pianist and rejoined our table. She sat and sipped her cocktail, looking unaffected by what had just happened.

  “Stop it right now,” Markie said, laughing. “I know you’re freaking out inside. That sounded amazing, Ari. You nailed it. You made that song your b.”

  Ariana laughed. “My bitch? You can say it, Sis. We’re all adults here.” She tipped up her cocktail again, this time draining it. “I don’t know how you guys made that happen, but thank you. Seriously. Talk about an incredible birthday.”

  I glanced back to where Noah had been standing, expecting him to descend on the table and make her night a hell of a lot better, but he was gone.

  “I need another drink. A shot,” she announced, flagging down a waiter. When he reached our table, she ordered four Kicks-in–the-Crotch.

  Before the waiter could leave, I stopped him and said, “I don’t know what she ordered, but if anyone comes at my junk, we’re gonna have an issue.”

  Color drained from the waiter’s face.

  “Don’t worry, he’s joking.” Ariana said, smacking me. “Simmer down, Bones, you’ll scare the poor man.”

  Markie scanned the drink menu. “That’s not on here. How do you even know about it?”

  Ariana’s smile morphed into a grimace. “You probably don’t want to know.”

  “You’re right. But at least tell me what’s in it.”

  “I don’t know. It’s purple and yummy, and it’s my birthday, so do it and like it.”

  Angel shrugged. “It’s a good thing we took a cab. But you know Markie can’t drink right now, right? Not with the medicine they have her on.”

  Ariana scrunched up her face. “Crap. I forgot about that. Oh well, I’ll drink hers. And I was trying to help you get lucky, Angel. So much for that idea.”

  Markie turned bright red, and I had to cough to hide my laugh.

  The waiter headed off to get our drinks and I continued to search the crowd for Noah. Still no sign of him. I pulled out my phone and saw I’d missed a text, telling me he had to leave to get to a meeting, but would call me later.

  We were in the middle of dinner when the shots arrived. I wasn’t a drinker. As an enforcer—and Angel’s twenty-four-seven bodyguard—I couldn’t afford to have my senses dulled. Sure, I indulged in the occasional beer, but hard alcohol was off-limits.

  “One shot on a friend’s birthday won’t kill you,” Ariana said, nudging my leg with hers. The lusty way she watched me spoke of a lot more than friendship, though.

  Feeling my pants tighten, I accepted the shot and held it in the air.

  Angel and Ariana joined me with their own shots, and Markie raised her glass of water.

  “To Ari,” I said. “May you rock every stage you step on and make this town your bitch.”

  “Happy birthday,” Angel and Markie added.

  Then we all tipped our drinks back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Ariana

  I SANG, AND the crowd cheered! Feeling on top of the world, I floated back to the table—back to the people who’d somehow made it happen—trying to play it cool. The crowd smiled at me, complimenting my performance as I walked past them, and each one made my heart soar. By the time I made it back to the table, I had to force myself to sit so I didn’t run around the room, high-fiving everyone and screaming like I’d just won the Super Bowl.

  They freaking love me!

  And man it felt good. I thanked Angel, Bones, and Markie, for whatever they’d done to make it all happen. I could have asked for details, but I was afraid knowing would take away the magic of the night. So instead, I ordered us all shots, determined to settle my nerves and maybe conjure up enough courage to throw myself at Bones again. The way he was looking at me was practically searing off my clothes anyway. Emboldened by the alcohol, I gave those looks right back.

  We ate, had dessert, and stood to leave. Bones dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table. I looked from it to him and arched an eyebrow.

  “That’s not gonna cover the bill, Bones. I can pitch in.” I opened my purse and reached for my wallet.

  Bones chuckled. “That’s the tip.”

  That was the tip? Da-am, I needed to pick up an application for this place. “But what about the bill?” I asked, searching the table. Sure, I’d been drinking, but I wasn’t drunk enough to miss the bill. Especially because I intended to pay my share.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Bones said, draping an arm over my shoulder and turning me toward the exit.

  Before I could argue with him, Angel literally swept Markie off her feet. My sister didn’t say a word, just snuggled closer to him. She must have really been exhausted.

  “I’m gonna get a cab,” Bones said, hurrying to get in front of Angel.

  “You okay?” I asked Markie.

  “Oh yeah, I’m… I can’t believe how much this has taken out of me. I feel like such a wimp. I don’t want to ruin your birthday though.”

  “You won’t,” Angel reassured her. “They can drop us off and go back out.”

  Nobody even suggested Markie and Angel leave without us. I’d never seen Angel outside of the condo without Bones attached at his hip. A cab stopped. We all climbed in and headed toward home.

  “If you’re not feeling well, I can stay,” I suggested as we stopped in front of the building.

  Angel stiffened. “I’ll take care of her,” he said. Then he got out and went around to open her door.

  “I’ll be right back,” Bones said, following them.

  Moments later he returned and slid in beside me, squeezing my hand. “This party is far from over,” he promised. Then he gave the cabbie directions to our next destination.

  We were deposited in front of a nightclub with a line wrapped around the building. Bones paid the driver and then joined me at the curb.

  “Check out that line,” I whined.

  He chuckled, grabbed my hand, and tugged me straight for the two muscle-bound bouncers guarding the door. “Hey, Aaron, how’s the fam?” he asked.

  “Bones, hey, they’re good. How are you man?” the blond answered, doing some sort of handshake before tugging Bones in for a quick hug.

  “Good. Stayin’ busy. This is Ariana. Ari, my friend Aaron.”

  Then Aaron seemed to realize Bones’s other hand was attached to mine. His eyes widened in surprise for a second before he recovered and offered me his hand. “Good to meet you, Ariana. You two get in out of the cold. Max is workin’ the bar tonight, so be careful of the drinks.”

  Bones laughed.

  Before I got a chance to ask what that meant, we were ushered through the door. Bones wrapped his arm around me and tugged me through the throng of people where he found Max and gave him a hard time before ordering our drinks.

  “Do you know everyone?” I asked.

  Bones cupped his ear, signaling he couldn’t hear me over the music.

  I leaned against him so I could yell in his ear, at the same time he turned. Our lips collided. Before I could even process what was happening, he wrapped his arms around me, settling his hands on my lower back. We made out for a moment before he slowly pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against mine.

  His eyes squeezed closed and the masculine scent of him encircled me, wrapping me in a cocoon of his scent: body wash, gun oil, and alcohol. Time stopped as we stood there, breathing in the same air. The moment felt strangely intimate and personal, surrounded by bodies bumping into us as they tried to get to the bar.

  “I’m sorry,” Bones breathed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  In fact, I could think of several more things he should be doing. I thrust my pelvis against his, feeling the hard length of him through
my dress and his pants.

  He groaned. “You’re killin’ me, Ari.”

  “I don’t know. Feels like you’re enjoying it.”

  His eyes popped open, and I got a glimpse of the beast lurking within. He was passionate and intense, and his heated stare threatened to boil me alive. I held his gaze as his hand slid up my back until his fingers combed through my hair. “You’re so gorgeous.” His gaze flickered down my neck, following the line of my breastbone down to my cleavage, before returning to my face. “You make me want to lose control.”

  A shiver went through my body. “Control is overrated.” I licked my lips, thrusting against him again.

  Bones’s eyes widened and both of his hands landed on my hips, forcing me still. “Stop that.”

  I felt a smile tugging at my lips as my hips fought against his hands. “Make me.”

  Some drunk asshole bumped into Bones, jarring him out of our moment. Bones looked around and when his eyes landed back on me, he’d regained control. Disappointed but unwilling to give up, I snatched my drink off the bar and drained it. Bones watched me, his smirk firmly in place. Holding his gaze, I slowly ran my hand below my mouth, wiping away the condensation the outside of the glass had left on my lip.

  Bones’s composure cracked again.

  Come on. Come out and play with me, I silently pleaded. Aloud, I nodded toward his drink and said, “Your turn.”

  He cocked his head, considering me as he lifted the beer to his lips. I put a finger on the bottom of it and helped him along. His empty bottle landed beside my glass.

  “Good, now dance with me.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You do. It’s my birthday, and I want to dance.”

  His mouth hung open for a moment before he shut it and shook his head, no doubt appalled that I would use my special day to get whatever I wanted from him.

  Believe it, buddy.

  He led me to the dance floor and held me at arm’s length. I stepped in, turning until my butt pressed against his crotch. I grinded against him for the rest of the song. When the next song started, he held my body still and—through gritted teeth—said, “We gotta get out of here.”