Dangerous Flames (Mafia Hearts)

by Ely, Wendy

  “Daddy, it is Mikolas Russo.” She jumped to her feet. “And you’re not going to hurt him.”

  He whipped around, shot a glare over the bedroom door and then stomped to the front door, slamming it behind him. Gabrielle could hear him swearing and throwing stuff in the front yard. It was a better reaction than she had thought. They were lucky that her father had let Mik live so far, but this still wasn’t over. Her hands trembled as she pushed some hair from her face.

  The bedroom door slowly opened. Mik, dressed to leave the cabin for good, walked out. “Where’s he at?” he asked.

  Gabrielle pointed to the front door. “Listen carefully and you can hear the screaming.”

  “You told him about me already.”

  “Yes, and he promised not to kill you.”

  The door swung open. Enrico, with eyes bulging with anger, charged toward Mik and tossed his gun down onto the couch. His grip went around Mik’s throat, pushing him against the beige wall.

  “Dad!” Gabrielle screamed. She jumped up from the couch and took a few steps in their direction but stopped. She didn’t want to be close if they started swinging at each other

  Mik’s face started turning red, matching the tint of her father’s skin. Mik didn’t try to pull away or even flinch even though it had to be like looking the grim reaper in the eye.

  “You son-of-a-bitch! I told you not to touch my daughter,” Enrico screamed into Mik’s face. “Why? You could have any woman in Vegas. Why her?”

  Mik took a gulp of air. “I love her, Enrico. I always have.”

  Enrico’s hand gripped tighter around Mik’s neck. “I told you I would feed your dick to the lions if you touched her.”

  “I… know…” Mikolas took rapid breaths, tears welling in his eyes.

  “Let him go. I need to tell you the rest of it,” she ordered.

  “I would kill you right here if I hadn’t promised my daughter I wouldn’t.” He let go of Mik. “You should thank Gabrielle since she’s the reason why you’re still alive.”

  Mik walked over to the hearth and slid his shoes on. Grabbing Gabi’s sweatshirt, he said, “I’m going outside so you can talk.”

  “Dad, please sit with me. I want to explain this to you.”

  “Mik, be a man and face me. Don‘t leave the dirty work to Gabrielle.” Enrico stalked over to the chair and flung himself down. With his face twisted in a frown, his eyes shot daggers at the couple.

  “Fine,” Mik said as he joined Gabrielle on the couch.

  She was relieved when Mik sat far enough away, she didn’t want him to hold her hand or have any other physical contact while they discussed this issue with her father.

  “Tell me.” Enrico pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit up.

  “I called Mikolas to my house and made him come here at gunpoint after I heard you talking to Leon about the hit put on you. Mom gave me one night here, but we were snowed in.”

  “I see,” Enrico said.

  Mik leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He ran his hand through his hair before looking up at her father. “But the truth, Enrico, is I love Gabrielle. I have tried to respect your wishes and stay away from her, but when she brought me here I couldn’t resist it anymore.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “And, Dad, I love you too, but I want to leave this life. And I want to leave with Mikolas.” She couldn’t resist anymore. She grabbed Mik’s hand in hers.

  The action seemed to have surprised her father. He looked from Gabrielle to Mik and back to her. “What do you want to say about this, Mik?”

  “I want the same as she does. I’m willing to give up anything to be with her. I don’t think I would be a good husband to her, one she deserves if I’m required to have things like a mistress.”

  “You guys have those?” Gabrielle’s wide eyes shot to Mik.

  He nodded. “It’s a sign of prestige.” He looked back to Enrico. “Gabrielle deserves better than the Mafia life—no offense to you, Enrico. You sent her away for her safety once and now her mother did this time.”

  “You plan on marrying her?” Enrico puffed again on his cigar.

  “I haven’t asked her yet, but I intend to.”

  “You know way too much about my business, Mikolas. I can’t let you hang around with everyone knowing you’re with my daughter.” Enrico shook his head.

  “Daddy!”

  Enrico got up from the chair and went over to the window, staring intently outside. “Let me finish,” he said with his back to them.

  “Enrico—” Mik started to say.

  Enrico swung around. “I said to let me finish.” He went back over to the chair and sat back down.

  Gun fire sounded through the air outside. Enrico ran back for his gun that he’d set down on the table. “Some last minute help with Family business?” he asked Mikolas.

  “Certainly.” Mik grabbed his gun. Before he went outside, he turned back to Gabrielle. “Stay in here. Don’t come out for anything. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she said. As soon as Mik was outside, she ran for her own pistol.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mikolas, with his Glock held out in front of him, followed Enrico down the steps.

  “Fuck,” Enrico yelled as he ran toward the body lying face down the ground.

  “Looks like Rif—”

  “It is Rif. It’s fucking Rif.” Enrico dropped down to his knees next to the still body. He slid his hand over the man’s back, probably checking for any breathing even with a bullet wound to his head and a halo of blood spattered on the snow around him.

  “Dead?”

  “Yep. We have to look for Dom. He either did this or we’ll be finding him dead too.”

  In response to Enrico’s orders, Mikolas stuck to the shadows, moving as quietly as he could across the yard, his gun aimed out. He would find the bastard who assassinated Rif. Whoever it was, they were trying to get to Enrico and would take out any of them, including Gabrielle. He had to find the guy.

  Mikolas spotted the next body slumped against the house. Dom’s black hair hung around his face, his eyes lifeless. The bullet hole in his chest told the tale of the man’s death. A gun laid in the snow underneath his hand. Dom had pulled his gun in surprise but hadn’t been quick enough in pulling the trigger.

  Who was Mikolas up against? Were his skills better than the killer’s or would Mikolas end up in a grave like the two men?

  ****

  Another round of blasts sounded from outside. It boomed like thunder with a groan following. The victim had to be right outside the living room window. Too scared to look, Gabrielle dropped down to her knees. Someone had died out there. She felt it in her heart. One of them just might be her father or Mikolas.

  What if it was her father? Her heart ached but she’d already lost her parents when she’d made the decision to be with Mik. She still didn’t want him dead. Her mother would need him more than ever before.

  What about Mik? How would her life be different? Would she be forced to go off alone without him? Or would her father let her stay in Vegas? She couldn’t lose him.

  She shook her head. Neither could be dead. She tilted her head up. Please, God, let them live. Tears welled in her eyes and then slid down her cheeks. She rarely cried, but doing so right now felt so good. Real. Refreshing.

  Gabrielle heard the window open in the bedroom. She cocked her gun and flipped the lights off. “Mik?” she called out but nobody answered. “Dad?” She walked closer to the bedroom.

  She kicked the door open with her sock-covered foot, the door banging against the back wall. Holding the gun in front of her, she peered inside of the room. Nobody was visible. Probably hiding in the bathroom. She’d get the guy even if it was the last thing she did.

  She walked into the bedroom and just for precaution, she looked around the bed. Something hit her full force from behind. Gabrielle flew forward, her gun landed on the bed. She lunged across the floor toward the weapon.

  “Gabrielle, stop,�
�� Clayton demanded.

  Stunned, she turned around to face her attacker. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to kill all of you.” His eyes zeroed in on her gun, making her realize that his own had disappeared, and he’d want hers as soon as possible.

  “But why?” She slowly inched her way backward against so he wouldn’t notice her small movements. It was going to be the battle of the quickest. A battle she intended to win.

  “I was sent to kill your dad, but since you all now know my identity now, I have to add you to my list.” He tapped his pointer finger against his temple. “Besides, with all of you guys dead, I’ll have a bigger pay day.” He stepped toward her, glancing at her gun again.

  Fear raged through her heart. Her father and Mik must be dead because neither of them would allow him to be in here with her. “Where are they?”

  He switched his attention to the window, after a second or two, moved back to her. “Let’s get to the money part of all of this.”

  In a feeble voice, she asked, “So you know about the room?” A bang toward the front of the cabin stole his attention long enough for Gabrielle to take a giant step in the direction of her gun.

  He turned back to her. “The vault? Everyone knows. Nobody knew where it was but that, darling, has changed. I know it’s here somewhere.”

  She smiled. He had no actual idea of where it was. Clayton wasn’t as clever as he thought. She dove for the gun again, this time swooping it into her hands.

  “Drop it,” Clayton ordered as he jumped on her. The impact of his body against her chest pushed the air from her lungs in a big giant puff.

  She tried swinging the barrel in his direction. He pushed her hands over her head, pinning them against the mattress. He shifted to get a better grip on her. His fingers twisted in her hair, yanking.

  Pain shot through her scalp. She cried in pain and let go of the gun with one of her hands to reach up to her throbbing head. He lifted his weight off of her but kept his free hand tangled in her hair. He snatched the gun from her hand.

  “Clayton, please let me go,” she begged as tears rushed down her cheeks.

  “Get the fuck up.” He yanked on her hair again.

  The pain sent her sitting up on the bed. She shifted her gaze over to the bedroom door. If only Mikolas would come through there. Please. Right now. But nobody would be there to save her. They were outside, probably dead in the snow. The earlier gunshot blasts strengthened her belief that someone was dead out there. And she’d be dead inside the cabin soon.

  “Let me go and they won’t know it’s you,” she said.

  Clayton grabbed her forearm, making her flinch at the strength of his grip. She tried to shake it free, but he squeezed her tighter as he pulled her off the bed and toward the door.

  “Move your sweet ass.” He was a few inches shorter than her but his strength overpowered hers.

  “Where are we going? What do you want?” With any hope, someone would be alive out there. Maybe if she kept talking, someone would hear her and come in.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” He opened the door and shoved her through the threshold. In the process, he let go of her arm to grab her hair again.

  “Let go of my hair,” she cried out.

  He tightened his grip, enough to send a series of stings through her scalp. “Nope. It’s easier to keep you in line this way.” He paused on the porch to listen for anyone’s presence.

  A dead body. Her breath caught in her chest. Getting closer to the man wasn’t needed to identify him. Rif. She took a step forward, loosening the resistance of her hair between her head and his fist. He pulled a fist-full, sending her butt first against the porch. She bit back a sob.

  “Get down the stairs but don’t try running.” He pushed her forward with the nuzzle of the gun in between her shoulder blades.

  “With no shoes? There’s still snow—”

  He pushed her down another stair almost knocking her to her knees. “Why would I let you wear any? So you can run away from me? I don’t think so.”

  She did her best to ignore the cold ground slicing at the bottoms of her bare feet as she tried to steal a glimpse of her father or Mikolas. If they were dead, where were they? Had Clayton moved their bodies?

  Clayton shoved her around the corner of the cabin and toward the first set of trees a few feet away. He started to jog, pushing her as he went. Rocks cut at her feet as she trudged over the gravel. She didn’t know which hurt more, the pain shooting through her scalp from the asshole constantly pulling at her hair, or the rocks and sticks cutting through her soles like a serrated knife slipping through warm butter.

  “Get going.” He gave her another shove, sending her on her knees.

  Burning pain shot across her skin. “My knees,” she cried out. Her pants ripped open and blood soaked small slivers of snow between chunks of gravel.

  He twisted his hand in a circle, tangling his fingers in the strands even more. “Stop messing with me or you’ll have a bullet to deal with instead of a skinned knee.”

  Someone was alive and moving a large object behind the cabin. Metal clanged together. Maybe the person was looking for her? For Clayton? They weren’t hiding or they’d be more careful about the level of noise they were making. If Clayton had shot them, he wouldn’t be in such a hurry. She looked in the direction in an attempt to view the person.

  “Don’t even try it,” he hissed. “You have to the count of three to get moving or I’m knocking you out.”

  “Clayton—”

  Please, someone hear us.

  “One,” he said.

  She opened her mouth to scream but glanced at his gun before any sound came out. Screaming would be stupid. If she did that, he’d have a bullet in her temple before anyone could find her alive.

  “Two.”

  “I’m going.” She rose up from the ground and tried to take a step in the direction of the trees. His foot hit her in the center of the back. She stumbled forward, her hands catching her fall. The rocks tore into her flesh. She hadn’t even noticed he’d let go of her hair until his fingers were twisted around it again, yanking her head back.

  She shook her hand as if the action would wipe away the pain. It did nothing to help. Blinking back more tears, she glanced in the direction the noise. All was silent now and nobody made an attempt to save her. She started walking toward the trees again. Not being able to take any more of the abuse from Clayton, she’d have to go along with what he said until she executed a plan to escape or someone found her.

  Once they reached the trees, he pushed her down to the ground behind a tree. “Be quiet,” he whispered.

  Gabrielle’s gasped as Mik walked past the cabin, his gun out in front of him. He stopped at the corner and looked right and then left. He’s alive! She needed to get his attention so he’d be able to find her faster and save her from Clayton’s clutches.

  Before she could even open her mouth, Clayton’s breath went against her ear. “I have no business with your boyfriend right now. He hasn’t even seen me here yet. Scream and he’s dead where he stands.”

  “But—”

  “Maybe you won’t die today if you go along with what I say, sweetie-pie. Either I get your dad’s money from the vault or I pull Mik’s card.”

  Mikolas looked in their direction.

  “Go ahead and scream.” Clayton’s lips touched her earlobe as he said, “I dare you.”

  Clayton’s breath sent prickles down her body. His breath was rancid as if he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a year, causing her to gag. She wanted away from him with every fiber of her being but wanted Mikolas to live much more than that. She couldn’t bear the idea of Mik being dead, face down in the snow as Rif was.

  Mike turned away from them and rounded the corner of the cabin. His footsteps climbing the stairs echoed through the air. The front door of the cabin slammed shut. She shuddered as the acknowledgment hit her like the winter storm. She was alone with Clayton. And she might die.
>
  “Take me wherever we’re going.” She stood up. “It’s now or never.” She let her gaze drop down to the ground. It didn’t matter that her feet were numb or the knee of her sweats was covered in blood. It didn’t matter that the palm of her hand felt like someone had stuck a butcher knife through the meat. None of it mattered. None of her physical pain mattered compared to the idea of not ever seeing Mikolas again.

  The cabin door opened again, followed by stomping feet crossing the porch. “Gabi!” Mik’s voice rang out through the darkness.

  ****

  “What’s wrong with Gabi?” Enrico said as he ran through the cabin door.

  “Gone.” He didn’t even wait for a reply. He threw another clip into his Glock as he ran out the front door. The night was cold and she didn’t even have her shoes. The motherfucker had taken her from him. Clayton was a dead man.

  The pounding of footsteps on the stairs behind Mikolas confirmed him of Enrico’s participation in the hunt. “Go that way,” Mik said. He pointed to the right of the cabin even though he had a hunch where they’d be.

  Clayton hadn’t come the entire way to the cabin by car. He had to be headed to a nearby cabin or down the main road. Mikolas would bet money on the first option. The latter was too out in the open. Clayton was a sly little fuck but clever nonetheless. But no matter how sly or clever, he couldn’t compete with the skills of Mikolas.

  “We’ve checked all around the cabin. They’re not here,” Enrico said. “I’ll go down the road.”

  He gave Enrico a quick nod before running in the direction of the woods. The blood on the ground stopped him in his tracks. “Enrico.”

  “Find something?”

  “They went this way. There’s blood.” He couldn’t say the last part of the thought. Gabi’s blood. Clayton’s murder was the one kill he was truly going to enjoy performing. Nobody would ever get away with hurting Gabi.

  “My daughter,” Enrico breathed when he reached the blood splattered ground.