by Bethany-Kris
“I-I have his—”
“They all say that,” Mac interrupted, knowing what the man was going to say.
Bullshit excuses.
Another stall tactic.
“Fact is,” Mac said, keeping an eye on Ronnie in case he grabbed for something to attack with, “… you’re two weeks late, according to the boss. And he was nice enough to fund your little project because, apparently, you go way back. Now you’re ducking and dodging Luca like it’s what you do for a living.”
Mac chuckled, waving his hand around at the office.
“Clearly, you work in another business, and you’re not very good at the ducking and dodging game,” Mac finished with another smooth, cold smile.
“Let me call Luca,” the man said quickly. “Please, we’re friends. He’ll understand, I’m sure.”
Mac sighed.
Luca didn’t care who a person was—friend, family, or enemy.
If someone owed him something, they owed him.
“Just let me make this easy,” Mac said. “You’ve only got to bleed, after all. Nobody says you’re going to fucking die from it. Now, if you make it hard on me, that’s going to be a problem, and it’ll probably hurt a lot more. Do us both a favor here, and let me get this over with.”
Ronnie opened his mouth to say something, his gaze darting to the windows, the door, and then to Mac.
Mac knew that look. It was the look of a man trying to find his way out.
Well, he had news for the guy.
“Make a single sound, and I will cut your tongue out,” Mac said quietly. “There is nowhere to run, and very few people left in the building. So unless you want your associates to know how you’ve been doing underground business with a mafia boss, I suggest you let me do what I came here to do.”
Simple, right?
Mac knew it would be—it always was.
Flexing his split, sore knuckles, Mac strolled toward his Challenger, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he slipped inside the car. He hit the number two key on the touchscreen, watching the number light up to call the contact attached to the speed dial.
On the fourth ring, the boss picked up.
“Give me good news,” Luca said.
“Your job should pay out by tomorrow evening, to the account you wanted,” Mac replied.
That was code for: Ronnie is going to pay you the money he owes by the time you want.
Mac had gotten better at talking in vague sentences, or rather, in a sort of code that his boss would understand.
“And?” Luca asked.
“And, what?”
“Is it all well?”
Mac chuckled. “It probably needs to be looked over.”
“Good, good.”
The pleased tone of Luca’s voice made Mac roll his eyes as he started the Challenger up and pulled out onto the quiet road. Luca had some kind of crazy about him—he liked to make people understand their wrongs in owing him anything.
Which meant, he liked for people in his debt to hurt a whole hell of a lot.
“It’s good, boss,” Mac assured.
“Perfetto. Now, onto other business.”
Mac navigated the streets of downtown Brooklyn, wondering what other business there was that needed attending to. Nothing immediate came to mind.
“What’s that?” he asked when Luca stayed quiet.
“My wife.”
Mac’s brow furrowed.
What did Neeya Pivetti have anything to do with Mac’s job as a Capo?
“Go on,” Mac said, keeping his tone level for respect’s sake.
“She’s been chatting my ear off for the last week—she knows what’s coming up tomorrow, and she won’t shut up about it. It would please her greatly if she could see Melina shortly after she was released, hmm?”
A dull pain settled in Mac’s chest.
He tried not to talk about Melina to those around him. It wasn’t like he had much to say. Sure, he kept up with what updates he could get from her lawyer, but his position as a new Capo, and Luca’s demands, kept Mac far away from where Melina had been housed to serve her nearly six-month sentence.
It fucking killed him.
Every single day.
He woke up alone—so cold.
His thoughts almost always revolved around Melina in one way or another. He found himself considering how she was fairing, what she might be doing, and if she was missing him, too. But it was more than all of that.
Mac was constantly wondering about Melina’s opinions on things in his daily life, like picking out a new vehicle, or settling into a new apartment in a better part of town.
He took that all as a sign of what he already knew—he intended to have a life with Melina. He wanted a future with her.
But she wasn’t here.
He was still waiting on her.
Mac knew none of that was really his girl’s fault—what happened couldn’t be helped.
That didn’t necessarily make him feel better about it all.
It could drive him damn near insane if he let it. So instead, he focused on anything and everything else that he could.
Work.
The gym.
His men.
Making money.
Territory.
Keeping the boss happy.
Every day, his cycle repeated.
But in the back of his head, Mac was counting down the days until Melina’s sentence was served and he could keep his word like he’d promised.
Wherever she was, he’d be waiting.
The countdown was finally coming to an end, however. Tomorrow, his doll was getting out. Mac would be there—no question.
“Well?” Luca demanded.
“I will make time for Neeya to see Melina,” Mac assured.
As soon as he could—after he’d had his fill.
It’d been too long.
Far, far too long.
“Remember, she still isn’t your wife, Mac. Try to keep her quiet for a little while.”
Mac scowled. He didn’t need the damn reminder.
“I am still working on the wife thing,” Mac said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone. “I will ask when I am ready.”
Or when Melina was, anyway.
Luca laughed. “How well do you think that will go over?”
With Melina?
Mac couldn’t even begin to guess.
“Beautiful day,” Cynthia said, patting her son’s arm as they strolled together through the quiet park.
“It is.”
Up ahead, Mac kept an eye on his sister, who had her Husky puppy on a leash. Victoria had showed up at his place with the dog, claiming she found him in a pet store, looking lonely and sad.
Mac figured his sister was one of those kinds of people who were emotional spenders. Those people liked to spend their money—even if it was their last dollar—on things that brought emotional reactions out of them.
His only problem with the dog was that on more than one occasion, Victoria dropped it off on him, leaving him to care for it.
Taz was a good dog—for a puppy.
Victoria, on the other hand, was a bit spoiled.
Mac blamed himself for that, because he couldn’t tell his sister no.
“So,” his mother drawled, bringing his attention down to her soft smile.
“Yes, Ma?”
“I like this,” she said, patting a hand on the breast of his suit. “You look very … gentlemanly.”
Mac laughed, and kissed his mother’s hand before dropping it just as fast. “Is that so?”
“Grown up.”
“I’m twenty-seven, Ma. I grew up a long time ago.”
Cynthia grinned in that way of hers, sly and knowing, but it quickly faded. Her tone turned more serious when she said, “As much as I disagree with … things …”
The mafia, he knew.
Mac chose not to openly say it, given where they were, and the fact his mother despised his career choices.
&n
bsp; “As much as I disagree with it all,” Cynthia repeated, “I am happy that you’ve found your place, James.”
“Mac, Ma.”
“James to me, my boy.”
Mac would always be James to his mother.
“And I just want you to be safe,” Cynthia added after a moment.
Mac wanted to soothe whatever worries his mother had, but it was an impossible task. For one, because he was her son and she would worry about him regardless of what he was doing. He could be a damn surgeon, and she would still fret herself right into a panic over his welfare. And for two, because Mac couldn’t promise he would always be safe in his job.
He was a made man.
A Mafioso.
And that put a giant target on his back every single day of his life.
“I’m good, Ma,” he said quietly.
It was the best he could give her.
Cynthia seemed satisfied, at least for the moment. “I should thank you for dragging your sister over to visit me today. She’s always so busy.”
Something like that.
Mac didn’t bother to explain to his mother that Victoria had found herself a boyfriend, because frankly, he was still trying not to kill that boyfriend, as it was.
“She didn’t put up a fuss,” Mac chose to say.
“Tell me …”
“What?”
Cynthia stopped walking, letting Victoria go on ahead for quite a ways before she let the hold she had on Mac’s arm go, and turned to face him on the pathway.
“You know that you never have to lie to me, James, right?”
Mac smiled. “I know, Ma.”
“Good. Tell me, what time are you going to get Melina from jail tomorrow?”
He might as well have turned into a statue.
Cynthia didn’t bat an eye.
Mac had made every effort he could to hide where Melina had gone from his mother. Given Cynthia hadn’t met her more than once, and that hadn’t ended particularly well, due to an unexpected visit from Mac’s cocksucker of a father, he didn’t want his mother building bad opinions of the woman he loved.
Because he did love Melina.
Entirely.
Mac wanted his mother to love her, too.
So, he hid what happened, and made excuses.
“How did you know?” Mac asked.
Cynthia shrugged. “Picked up a paper one day and it happened to have an article in there, second page, with your face plastered across it. Hers, too.”
Mac cringed. “The sentencing?”
“It was a very sweet picture, James.”
He sighed, and scrubbed a hand down his face. Melina’s sentencing had been the one day Mac had been given permission from his boss to see her before she was carted off. Luca told him that he was to keep his head down, not draw attention to himself, and steer clear of any reporters.
Mac fucked that up in a big way by kissing Melina, getting their picture taken by the press, and then having it printed two days later with quite the headline.
Suspected Mobster Kisses Convicted Girlfriend Goodbye
At least they hadn’t called Melina a hooker in the headline.
Mac gave them that.
It was also the only reason why he hadn’t burned the fucking newspaper’s headquarters down to the goddamn ground.
He’d taken hell from Luca, which included a threat to skin Mac alive if he ever disobeyed his boss again.
Mac decided not to test Luca on that one.
“Well?” his mother asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Around noon,” Mac said.
Cynthia nodded once. “Great. I will have a supper ready. I want to see her.”
“Ma—”
“This is not a discussion, James.”
Well, that was that. Mac supposed he could hold off on getting his girl alone and in private for at least an extra hour or two.
Maybe.
Melina looked up at the wall again and silently cursed. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d done that today. It was stupid, she knew. There hadn’t been a clock in her cell since she’d been imprisoned, and one was not about to magically appear because she wanted to count down the time until her sentence was finished.
“Shouldn’t be long now,” Erika said. She shuffled a pack of playing cards in her hands as she gave Melina a wide smile.
“Maybe. Maybe I still have a while,” Melina said, more nonchalantly than she felt.
Erika rolled her eyes. “Would it kill you to have some optimism for once in your life?”
“Yes.” And then Melina laughed.
“Ah, she does have a sense of humor. Too bad you’re just now deciding to share it.”
“Sometimes it’s best to leave some things to the imagination,” Melina said.
Sliding down from her top bunk, she stood and stretched, stealing a glance toward the steel-barred doors.
“Everything is going to be fine, you know,” Erika said quietly.
“Miss Eternal Optimism rears her head again. What do you know that I don’t, Erika?”
Putting down the deck of cards, Erika motioned for Melina to take a seat next to her on the small concrete slab in the center of their cell. Reluctantly, Melina did as the younger woman asked. Flipping a long twist over her shoulder, Erika pinned Melina with a deep stare.
“You are a great person, Melina. Yes, you’ve had some bumps and bruises along the way. Yes, life may have given you a shitty deal, but you are a survivor. Your time here was just another little bump along the way to something much better.”
Melina shook her head. “I wish I could have just an ounce of the faith you have. It would last me until I the day I took my last breath.”
Erika smiled and reached for her hand. “Good thing, then, that I have enough for the both of us. Give yourself permission to be happy. From everything you’ve shared with me, it’s overdue for you.”
“And what about you?” Melina countered.
“I am going to be just fine. One day my time will come, too, and when it does, you better believe I will be skipping out of here with a happy song in my heart.”
Melina smiled. “I have no doubt you will.”
Erika opened her mouth to say something but before she could, the doors to the cell slid open.
“Morgan, it’s time. You’ve got two minutes to get your shit.”
Melina rose and glared at the guard, before she faced Erika again. She could see tears in the woman’s eyes.
“Hey, none of that. No waterworks,” Melina said softly.
“Oh, shut up and give me a hug.”
Erika stood up and hugged her tight. The last thing Melina wanted was one of the asshole guards to see her being vulnerable.
But right then she just didn’t care.
Melina hugged Erika tightly. “You take care of yourself. Who knows? Maybe we’ll run into each other again someday.”
Erika leaned back and wiped tears from her face. “I’ll be looking forward to that day.”
“Morgan, let’s go or you can stay here on a permanent basis. Your choice.”
Melina stepped away from Erika and walked over to the guard. “I’m ready.”
Officer Ramsey stepped back to allow Melina to exit the cell, but not before ensuring that his arm “accidently” brushed against her breast.
“Pig,” she whispered under her breath.
“You got something to say, Morgan? Trust me, I have no problems putting your ass back in your cage,” Ramsey said.
“Melina,” Erika said, a warning in her tone.
Melina knew that the guard was trying to provoke her.
The last thing he or his higher ups wanted was to release her back into society.
Especially because they’d failed to break her.
No doubt Ramsey would love another attempt to correct his failure, but she wasn’t going to give it to him.
She had too much to lose.
“No, sir,” she said.
Rams
ey slammed the door shut. “I didn’t think so.”
Melina gritted her teeth but forced a smile to her face.
“Take care, Melina,” Erika said.
“You, too.”
And with a short wave, Melina was leaving her concrete prison behind. Raising her head high, she thrust back her shoulders and stood tall. She had no idea what she would be facing now, but anything had to be better than the hell she was leaving behind.
“All right, Morgan, you’re free to go.”
The heavy gray door swung open, and Melina was nearly blinded by the sunlight that shone directly in her path. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the light as she stepped into the lobby. Blinking, she looked around and then she saw him. Arms folded, leaning casually against the far wall wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, Mac was a sight to behold. He wasn’t looking in her direction, which gave her time to study him.
His hair was freshly cut and his face clean shaven. Melina licked her lips. She wasn’t used to seeing him in a suit. No doubt it was all part of the new Mac—the Capo. Taking a deep breath, she moved toward him, unable to quiet the fluttering of tension and nervousness in her belly.
Would the new Mac still want his Gun Moll?
Or had their time passed?
“Mac,” she said softly.
He turned toward her and in one single, fluid motion he was off the wall and moving toward her. And as he stopped in front of her, he reached out and tipped her chin up toward him with one finger.
“Doll,” he said.
Nothing could disguise the reverence in his voice.
Melina tried to contain her trembling as his hazel eyes bored into hers.
There was so much that she wanted to say, but words wouldn’t come.
She was frozen and suddenly afraid.
Afraid of a future that she had no control over.
“Love you, doll.”
His lips curved into a crooked smile and then Mac was kissing her. His lips met hers in a hot, demanding kiss that set her soul on fire. Melina could taste the desire on his lips, the love, and just there hiding beneath it all, his own hint of uncertainty.
She pushed him away, knowing someone was watching.
Mac raised a brow. “Is something wrong?”
“Could we get out of here?”