by Harley Stone
Having dug my grave, I turned the Hummer toward Nero's Palace and a five-hundred-foot possible plummet to my death.
I parked the Hummer in a garage and we made it all the way to the replica Trevi fountain before my phone rang. My cousin Renzo's number flashed on the screen. Renzo was my uncle Michael's son. A few years younger than me, he'd grown up with my brother Dante, but unlike Dante, Renzo had focused on the family business. Father had recently put him in charge of his own team. Knowing my cousin would want to talk business, I excused myself, leaving the girls at the fountain, and hurried to the side of the building to take the call.
Bones drifted between me and the girls, keeping an eye on us all.
"Hey, Angel," Renzo said. "I have some merch I can't move. The boss said to call you about it."
If Father wanted me on it, it had to be some sort of tech. Hoping we hadn't stumbled upon the bombs already, I asked, "Is the merch clear?"
"Nope."
Shit. Clear meant free of tracking devices. Since this wasn't clear, I needed to get on it immediately and make sure the merchandise couldn't be tracked, which meant my afternoon was no longer free. I glanced at Markie, regretting that I'd have to let her go yet again.
"I gotta drop off something first," I said into the phone. "Twenty minutes, then we can join you."
"Great. I'll have tech send you the info."
I hung up and headed back to the girls, but Bones intercepted me.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Renzo has some merch we gotta take a look at. We're gonna have to drop off the girls."
He nodded. "Probably for the better. We still don't know anything about them."
He was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "Yeah."
"And you get out of the High Roller," Bones added.
I chuckled, and we went to break the news to the girls. I had every intention of dropping Markie off and heading back to reality, but as I parked in front of their crappy little apartment, I couldn't do it. She reached for the door handle, and I grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Hey, this thing I gotta do should only take a couple hours. Besides, I hear the High Roller's better at night anyway. Can I pick you guys up around eight?"
Ariana nodded.
"We'd like that," Markie said, beaming me another smile before she hopped out of the Hummer.
Bones shook his head at me and climbed into the front seat.
***
Of all the ridiculous things to have stolen, Renzo's team had bumped the wrong truck and ended up with six check stand registers. At least they were new models, with technology I'd never seen before. I wanted them, so I disabled their trackers, removed their serial numbers, and stashed them away in one of the family's warehouses.
By the time we finished, we had a little over an hour before Bones and I had to pick up the girls. As I started up the Hummer, Bones turned to face me, and I knew what was coming.
"We need to do a background check on her," he said.
He was right, but I was enjoying the surprise... the mystery that was Markie Davis. Afraid it would disappear when we pulled her records and learned all her deepest, darkest secrets, I shook my head. "Soon. Let me have tonight, okay?"
I thought he would argue, but he didn't. "Fine."
"Thanks Bones."
"You owe me, asshole."
I chuckled. "Put it on my tab."
We picked up the girls then headed back to the High Roller. Bones made a call, and one of the managers appeared to take us through the service entrance so we could bypass the line. An employee gestured us forward, and then smiled as recognition lit his eyes.
"Mr. Angel!" He stepped forward and offered me his hand. "So good to see you."
I shook it. "Fernando. Good to see you, too."
Fernando's family did lawn maintenance for Father's estate. They were nice people, hard-working, and knew how to keep their mouths shut.
"Pleasure is all mine."
"These are my friends Markie and Ariana, and you know Bones, of course."
He shook their hands as I explained he was a family friend.
"You are some lucky ladies to be out on the town with these two. Stand-up gentlemen you got here. Real nice guys."
Markie smiled at him. "Good to know."
To me, he said, "Mr. Angel, my parents got the floral arrangement you sent for my abuela's funeral. Thank you. It meant much to us."
Fernando's grandmother was like a second nonna to me. And although I'd never admit it aloud, she could bake almost as good.
"I was sorry to hear about your loss."
"Yes, she was a wonderful woman."
I started to head toward the pod, but Fernando stopped me. "You get your own," he said before closing the pod and speaking into his radio. The High Roller rotated, bringing another pod to the platform. After unloading the passengers, he ushered us in, instructing us to let Hank at the bar know if we needed anything.
He closed us in the pod and waved goodbye before turning to the next group.
Our pod moved, and an announcer appeared on overhead screens, welcoming us onto the ride. Then he droned on about the city's history as we began our ascent. Bones and Ariana headed for the bar while Markie and I pressed against the glass. She looked out, while I carefully gazed anywhere but down.
"Tell me more about yourself," I said. "What do you like to do when you're not traveling across the world to build wells and help orphans."
"I like to dance."
Intrigued, I leaned closer. "Tell me more. What style of dancing?"
"All of it. Ballroom, ballet, pop, hip-hop." She looked away and her cheeks turned the slightest tint of pink. "Disco."
"Disco?" I asked, forcing down a chuckle.
She shrugged, her blush deepening. "What? I like to get down. I like to boogie."
I laughed. How could I not? She was fucking adorable.
"All right, all right, that's enough mocking me, mister. Your turn. Tell me something about you."
I ducked my head and wiped the grin from my face. "I, too, like to boogie. And I don't mean to brag or anything, but I'm a pretty kick-ass cook."
"You are, huh?" she asked. "That's... unexpected, yet awesome. What do you like to cook?"
"My mom used to be a chef for Antonio's. It's a local Italian restaurant. Great, authentic cuisine. She taught me."
"Mmm. Italian food."
For one, suicidal moment, I considered inviting her back to my condo so I could cook for her. She was so damn adorable and there were many things I wanted to do for her... to her. Cooking seemed like a great start. Still, I'd never brought a girl back to my condo and Bones would have a shit-fit if I invited this one before he'd properly vetted her, so I swallowed back the offer.
Instead, I asked, "What have you been up to?"
"Just taking care of my sister while she got better. Oh, and I found a rescue mission that works with kids. They need help, so I put in my volunteer application. Got the call that it cleared today, so I start volunteering tomorrow."
"Ah, so you'll be staying in Vegas for a while?" I asked, hopeful.
She shrugged and looked away. "As long as I can."
Strange answer. I filed it away to reevaluate later and changed my line of questioning. "What do you do at these orphanages?"
"Whatever they need. In Africa I did a lot of administrative work like marketing and finding sponsors, but here I'll probably do things like laundry, maybe help out in the kitchen, read to the little ones, shoot hoops with the bigger kids, stuff like that."
"Oh, I see. You're kind of short for basketball, so you play with kids." I grinned.
She gasped in mock offense. "For your information, I made the southern Idaho all-star team my junior and senior years of high school." She crossed her arms and tried to scowl at me, her dimples betraying her. "I got hops."
"Hops? You think you can jump on those short legs, huh? I'm more of a believe-it-when-I-see-it kind of guy." Then seeing my golden opportunity
, I added, "So you're gonna have to prove it. And this will be a perfect opportunity for you to get to know me better. Give me your phone number and we'll settle this on the court."
Turns out I wasn't above goading Markie into a basketball game to get her digits. Truthfully, I could get her number with a few clicks on my computer, but didn't want to go down like a stalker.
Her expression dropped, and she looked away. "As much as I'd like that, I don't think it would be a good idea, Angel."
I wanted to ask why not, but Bones and Ariana returned, carrying drinks. Markie accepted a glass of wine from her sister, and Bones handed me a bottle of beer.
Markie sipped her wine and leaned back against the window, staring out. Beautiful, mysterious, caring, I couldn't stop staring at her.
"Why orphanages?" I asked.
She glanced at Ariana (who was heading to the other side of the pod alone), and then lowered her voice. "We lost our parents when I was a freshman in high school and Ari was still in middle school. Our uncle was the only family we had, and he's a jerk. But since we had nowhere else to go, we moved in with him, and life was... difficult. I can't tell you the number of times I wished some long-lost family member would show up and give us another option... someone else to live with. I guess I want to be there for those kids like I wish someone would have been there for us."
There was a bigger story behind her uncle's custody, I could see it in the way her eyes narrowed when she mentioned him, but I didn't want to press. I filed it away to ask her about later.
"It's so beautiful up here," Markie said, her attention back on the view.
I followed her gaze to the lights of the strip and saw something different. Connections, money, ties, some buildings would welcome me, and some would see my presence as a threat or a sign of disrespect. I knew the managers, the back-door operations, and the family who got a cut from each one. My father's world called to me through neon signs and dancing lights, reminding me where I belonged. Looming and confining, there was nothing beautiful about the city.
However, one look at Markie took my breath away. Outlined in the glow of low lights, eyes wide with wonder, she was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. I pressed closer and breathed in the coconut fragrance of her hair. Something soft and crooning played over the speakers.
"We're nearing the top," the announcer said over the speakers. "Starting the countdown from twenty, nineteen, eighteen."
"I love this so much," Markie said, turning to face me. She grabbed my hand, and as our fingers intertwined, little electrical jolts danced up my arm toward my chest. The startled look she gave me, told me she felt it too. "Thank you, Angel."
She flashed me another dimpled smile, and every inch of my body reacted, surprising me. We were in a goddamn pod with Bones and her sister not ten feet away, and I was horny beyond reason. Thankful for the suit jacket, hiding my erection, I shifted, trying to get myself under control.
"Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen..."
My brain screamed at me to pull away from her. We knew nothing about each other, and Bones was right: Markie was the kind of girl who'd rather pick out wedding rings than condoms. I had no business fucking with her. My body didn't seem to care. I set my beer on a table and brushed a stray curl back from her face, tilting her chin up to look at me. She was so goddamn beautiful, it physically hurt me to look at her and know I couldn't have her.
"Ten, Nine, Eight..."
Why? Why the fuck couldn't I have her? I wanted her. I needed her. Her hand felt like a lifeline to everything clean and good about humanity. Clinging to it, I leaned in and covered her lips with mine.
"Seven, Six, Five..."
She opened her mouth to me and I released her hands to wrap my arms around her and deepen the kiss. She tasted like wine, sin, and freedom, and I drank her in like a convict busting out of prison.
"Four, Three, Two..."
We were almost at the top, but I'd already fallen.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Angel
BY THE TIME Bones and I dropped Markie and Ariana off that night, I knew I was fucked. I walked her to her door and I leaned in to kiss her again, right there in the goddamn open.
She turned, so my lips landed on her cheek. "We shouldn't do this," she said, looking away.
"Why the fuck not?" I asked, putting my hands on either side of her, trapping her against the door.
"It's..." She shook her head, still not meeting my gaze. "Complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it for me. I had fun tonight and I want to see you again."
Her expression torn, she chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before rifling through her purse. When her hand emerged, a business card was between her fingers. She held it in the air between us. This time she looked at me with a challenge in her eyes. "Okay, prove it. Volunteer with me."
I took the card, turned it over, and read the information. An orphanage. She wanted me to volunteer at a goddamn orphanage. Of all the shit I'd been asked to do, this was a first. Markie didn't wait for an answer before letting herself in and closing the door. Shocked, I looked from the card to the door. Then, stuffing the card into the pocket of my jacket, I laughed my ass off and headed back to the Hummer. I had a business to run and an empire to grow, and I couldn't volunteer at a fucking orphanage.
"What did she give you?" Bones asked as soon as I got behind the wheel.
"Doesn't matter. I'm not gonna do it. I'm done with her." I had to be. Markie was right, and things were too damn complicated. We were from two different worlds, and nothing between us would ever work. Still, I couldn't help the way my gaze cut to her door, already wishing I could catch one last glimpse of her.
Bones looked sideways at me.
"I know, I know, One Nut Brizio. I fuckin' get it, Bones."
"You gonna let me run a background check on her now?"
I stopped for a light. "No. I told you, I'm done."
"Right," he said.
Neither of us believed me.
***
Thoughts of a certain blonde kept me from getting much sleep Wednesday night, so Thursday was brutal. Bones and I picked up one of the self-checkout terminals and took it to my office. The seventeen-inch touchscreen monitor was the first thing I salvaged. While disassembling the body, I sliced my arm open. Bones stitched me up--one of the many skills he'd picked up in my old man's mobster boot camp--and I popped three ibuprofen and went back to work, salvaging the sixteen-gig DDR memory stick and octa-core CPU. I called Renzo to let him know that once they were all disassembled, a decent fence would be able to fetch maybe five grand for the parts. Hardly worth the time.
Once I finished up, Bones and I headed for the shooting range. Operated by a friend of the family, not only could we bring in our own handguns, we had free rein of the VIP room and all its weapons. We brushed up on our pistols then tried out the M4, the M249 S.A.W, the Remington 700 sniper, the Beretta M9, and the goddamn Tommy gun. Acting out our favorite gangster movie scenes, we spent hours competing to see who could destroy the most targets. After the range, Uncle Carlo sent us out to wire a hotel room and get footage of a local judge cheating on his wife with a prostitute barely out of high school.
It was after midnight by the time we stumbled into the condo. I was exhausted and my arm was throbbing, but no amount of staring at the backs of my eyelids would take my mind off Markie. Finally, I got up and poured myself a glass of scotch. Bones joined me when I was on my third glass. I'm sure he knew what was bugging me, but thankfully he didn't say a damn thing. We took the bottle to the coffee table, turned on the television, and drank until we passed out.
Over the next two weeks, my schedule was more of the same. Every time we were out, I caught myself watching for Markie. It was killing me that I knew where she lived, but I couldn't stop by. Not without giving in and letting Bones run her background.
I made it two weeks and four days before navigating to the address on the business card Markie had given me. As I parked in front of the orphan
age, Bones just looked at me and shook his head.
"What the fuck are we doing here?" he asked.
"Our civic duty."
"This could all be avoided if you'd let me run her goddamn background."
"Fine. Do it. But I don't want to know anything. Keep it to yourself unless it's some shit you have to tell me." I opened my door and got out.
Bones watched me walk around the Hummer before joining me on the sidewalk. "But we're still going in?"
I nodded. "She asked me to volunteer with her. I need to at least see what she does."
"They'll never let you volunteer."
I chuckled. Sometimes my friend still underestimated me. "I'm already approved, Bones. We both are."
"What?" he asked. "How?"
"I created us identities, of course. You're Franco Johnson now, by the way. Don't worry, I'll still call you Bones, mother-fucker."
His jaw dropped. "Johnson? You couldn't come up with something better than that?"
Laughing, I pushed open the door and headed in.
We stopped at the reception desk and an older lady looked through her files until she saw our approved applications. I asked her about Markie, and she nodded.
"Yeah, she started volunteering here a few weeks ago. The kids really like her. She was here earlier, but went home with a migraine."
Disappointed, I thanked her and turned to leave.
A black kid holding a basketball blocked my path. His shorts and tank top looked about two sizes too big for him, and his sneakers had a hole in the toe. He dribbled the ball a couple of times and then cocked his head to the side and studied me, snorting like he was unimpressed. The kid had to be about ten, but packed at least twenty years of attitude.
"You don't know Markie," he said.
Who the fuck was he to tell me who I knew and didn't know? "Yeah I do. She's a friend."
He looked from me to Bones and snorted again. "Yeah right."
Getting more pissed by the second, I asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Markie's tough. She's a baller and she don't take no shit. You? You brought your bodyguard into an orphanage. What are you scared of, rich boy?"