Burned: A Mafia Menage Romance (Blood Brothers Book 2)

by Meg Watson

  He slides the prescription paper back over, letting it dangle over the side of the counter so that Charli can retrieve it. She snaps it between her fingers and glares at me.

  “Great!” she hisses through clenched teeth. “Just fucking great!”

  “Language!” the assistant chirps, her hand fluttering to her bosom as though she has honestly never heard that word before.

  Oh my God, these fucking people. Give me a fucking break.

  Charli is trembling like a leaf, so I take her by the shoulders and wait for her to look up. She blinks those leaf green eyes at me, sending out Morse code signals that there something I need to do. I need to do it right now.

  “Let me handle this.”

  “Gus really needs this scrip —”

  “— I’ll handle it.”

  I march her to the front door and out, the bell gently jangling behind us as the door closes again. I don't see Tek, but then a sky blue minivan lurches into the space just in front of us. The window slides down and Tek leans out on his elbow, glaring at me accusingly.

  I take a half step back and open my arms. What am I seeing? What the fuck is this?

  The side door rolls open with a mechanical whir. Gus jumps out, grinning broadly.

  “We bought a minivan, mommy!” he chirps, rushing to his mom and flinging his arms around her middle. She hugs him back but looks at me, her eyes full of questions. “Uncle Tek let me pick it out! It’s got automatic everything!”

  “We bought a minivan?” I repeat incredulously. “Have we slipped to an alternate universe or something? Is this real life?”

  “Just get in,” Tek snaps and retreats to the driver seat while the window closes.

  Charli follows Gus back into the bowels of the family-sized vehicle. He's tugging at her hand and pointing out cupholders, consoles, swivel seats and drop-down LED screens.

  I tap on Tek’s window with my knuckle until he rolls it down again.

  “I do not want to hear a goddamn word,” he growls, low enough that only I can hear him.

  “Not right now. You got my piece?” I say, jerking my chin toward the glove compartment.

  He doesn't even ask me why, just retrieves the revolver from the glove compartment and hands it to me. I slip it into the back of my pants and hold up a hand. “I won't be a minute. You should probably leave it in Drive.”

  When I fling open the front door, the pharmacist seems surprised to see me. Seriously. He thought that his little performance had actually sent us on our way. What a chump.

  Somewhere in my mind, I know there’s about a 50-50 chance that old Ebenezer here is about to drag a sawed-off shotgun from under the counter or maybe his assistant has six shooters hidden under those giant boobs of hers. But neither of those two things happen. I just walk down the middle of the pharmacy, all business, holding my revolver up at shoulder height.

  The safety is still on, of course. I'm not a lunatic.

  “Just give it to me, old man, and consider yourself lucky today,” I inform him. “Matter of fact, give me all you got. And some of these Red Vines too. For the kid.”

  ***

  The assistant was nice enough to put the small white boxes into a bag so I just walk out and jump into the passenger seat, tossing the bag into the back of the minivan as Tek speeds away.

  “Any trouble?” he mutters under his breath.

  “Course not,” I shrug, dropping my piece back into the glove compartment.

  Glancing back, I expect to see Charli's adoration beaming back at me, maybe some batting of the eyelashes or a smile, something. But nope. She looks like I just killed her pet fish.

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  “I could have handled that.”

  I cough at the back of my throat. “Yeah you're handling it just fine. I saw you.”

  I twist back around, shaking my head. Nothing? Not even a thank you?

  “So what?” she continues. “I could have just called like he asked, right? I was taking care of it. You didn't have to go all macho waving your gun around did you?”

  I hold up a hand, Stop. I don’t want to hear any more of this. She can just sit in the backseat watching cartoons with her kid until we get to Mexico for all I care. I don’t know why I expected anything but attitude out of this woman anymore. I must be crazy.

  “Fucking minivan, fuck,” Tek snarls under his breath, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. She didn't say thank you to him either. 1965 Mustang GT, traded in for this humiliating Land Cruiser. And I bet she didn't even say a damn word.

  1965 Mustang fucking GT.

  DAY 6 - CHARLI

  Texas doesn't really look like any other place. There’s something so glaringly bright about it. Unnaturally bright, as though the full force of the sun is coming down like an avalanche.

  Yellow. Yellow everywhere. The word yellow doesn't even begin to describe it.

  Munching on just the peanuts from a bag of trail mix, Gussie stares out the window as we sail down the interstate. I'm so proud of my little man. He's been my rock, as calm and sweet as ever. Holding my hand, snuggling up next to me as though he knows I need his animal presence to keep me stable. This whole thing is just a nightmare.

  He never ceases to amaze me. When he was a baby, he hardly cried. He let me know that he was hungry with a barking wail, but as soon as I came into the room he quieted down. I couldn’t believe that a baby could convey that kind of trust.

  He always knew that I was there. That I would give him whatever he needed at any time. Being trusted like that… It is my life. Maybe what he needed wasn't all that complicated, but just knowing that I could make one person happy — really, really happy — made it seem like I was really doing something right in the world.

  There's just no space between us. Without even needing words, he just always knows what I'm thinking. And I always know more or less what he's thinking though he is a pretty complicated little person.

  For instance, this bag of trail mix is not really his favorite thing. Nico picked it up for him this morning before we left the motel at the gift shop. He handed it to him like Gus should be delighted. But a bag full of mixed up snacks in random shapes and sizes and flavors? That's not usually Gus's thing. He likes his food a lot more organized than that.

  But Gus smiled at him and said thank you in his small, polite voice. And now he's just eating it part by part. The raisins went first, and I know this because raisins are his least favorite. So he had to get them out of the way. Now he is going for the peanuts, saving the almonds for last because they’re his favorite. That's just how he is, completely adaptable.

  My little soldier.

  Well, not really my little soldier. For the thousandth time I promise myself that he is not going to be anything like a soldier. Yeah, he was raised in the Family life, but when we get to Mexico or wherever it is that we’re going, he can be anything he wants. He could be an artist or musician. He could be a professional flamenco dancer for all I care.

  Gussie can do anything. The more I think about it, this is his only chance to do anything. If we had stayed in Annapolis, one of the made men would have fostered him into running numbers or worse before he was eighteen. They would have laughed about it if I objected. They would've taken him from me, just like that, and nobody would have even thought twice about it. That's just how life is up there.

  But with me, now, I've liberated him and he doesn't even know it. He doesn't need to know it. I'm just doing my job.

  But I am grateful about the trail mix, because the way I figure it, it will tide him over until our new life is started in Mexico. Tek and Nico can drop us off and never look back. Then they can return to their lives in that fishing town we went through at lightning speed. They’ll never hear from me again. The way that they each look at me like I'm some kind of ghost, some kind of monster, I can tell they’re going to feel nothing but relief.

  They never used to look at me like that. No way. They used to make me feel like a queen.
That's the only way I can describe it. I felt like a queen.

  I met them at one of Aunt Millie's big summer dinners, a backyard party for some kid or two. Millie liked to have group birthday parties for two or three kids at a time and go all out. She would get the bouncy castle, ponies for the kids to ride in the little circle, a magician, a clown making balloon animals… Craziness. Absolutely crazy.

  Millie never had kids of her own, so everybody thought they were kind of doing her a favor letting her put on these extravagant birthday party celebrations. But really, I just think that most people were aware they could never put on quite the shindig that Millie would.

  She would do about a hundred pounds of meatballs, sausage and peppers, and everybody brought a case of wine or so. All the adults would be drunk by two in the afternoon. And the kids, who started out the day in pressed white shirts and slicked down hair would be tousled and wrinkled and an absolute mess by four in the afternoon. Knees scraped, bitten by horses, terrified by clowns. We all thought it was hilarious.

  It was at one of these parties that I had dropped into a plastic lawn chair at the corner of the patio to watch my cousins sneaking wine from the leftover dregs at the bottom of everybody's glasses scattered about the table. Hooligans, I tell you.

  I felt something weigh on me, or something tugging at me. I looked over. There they were, both staring at me with identical expressions of pleased curiosity. Like they'd found the answer to a puzzle and were double checking the results. There was no mistaking what they were thinking. I could read it on their faces like it was written in block letters.

  After we made eye contact, they stood up and walked over to me, taking chairs on either side of me. And that was it. No discussion or anything. It was like it was as unavoidable as the answer to a math problem. It never even seemed weird to me that the math problem had three variables in it. It just never seemed like it could be any other way.

  But now, they can't even really look at me. They flinch away like it hurts to see me. And I guess it does. But they don't really look at each other either.

  Everything's different. And I don't think anything is better.

  Gus starts in on the almonds just as I point out the window to big brown sign that says Mexican border, 18 miles.

  “We’re almost there, Gussie. Almost done.”

  ***

  I’m getting excited, I can't help it. I know that every minute is almost a mile. Feels like a countdown.

  Nico starts glancing over his shoulder at me, talking in a low voice to Tek. I know that Tek told him that we all need to go, but that's really not true. If they want to just look around Mexico for a couple hours, maybe find me a nice roadside stand where they could drop me off, that would be fine. We don’t have to form a compound or anything.

  “Listen, Charli,” Nico starts in. “We’re thinking Oaxaca. Just another six-hour drive, do you think you guys can hang on that long?”

  “No,” I begin. Nico quirks an eyebrow at me and I unbuckle my seatbelt, crouch-walking to the seat closer to him. I lean forward and talk in hushed tones. “You don't have to do any of that. I know you didn't bring your passport anyway so just drop me off. Just leave me somewhere. We will be fine. I promise.”

  “That's not gonna happen,” Tek growls. Apparently he only has one tone of voice now, and that's it.

  “What Tek means is, we’re escorting you to safety. There's no discussion about it. That's what's going to happen.”

  I take a deep breath. “You know what, this trip is almost done so I feel like I can be honest with you guys… I. Do. Not. Want. You. To.”

  Nico glares at me. I know he thinks he's going to go ahead and dig in on this point, but I'm ready to stand my ground.

  “I've got this,” I tell him. “In fact, you can probably just let us off at the gate or whatever it is. We could just walk through, right? They must let people walk or something right?”

  “You're being stupid,” I hear Tek growl. I wish I had something I could throw at him.

  “What Tek means,” Nico intervenes again, “is that you can’t just go walking across the border and not expect trouble. It looks suspicious. Our best bet is to just get through looking like a family, all normal-like. Actually, Tek, you should probably drop me off somewhere around here and then swing back to pick me up or something.”

  “I am not being stupid,” I growl, because I just can't let it go anymore. “I know what I'm doing. I've had this all planned for months. And I can make it by walking through, too. I can bribe them if I have to. Is that what you guys are afraid of? I’ve got it all taken care of. I've got this.”

  “Yeah, you got this,” Tek repeats snidely.

  “I do! You think $75,000 is enough to get me across the border?”

  Nico narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  I let it sink in for a moment, sitting back and crossing my arms.

  “$75,000. In cash. In the black duffel. You see, I got this —”

  “— you have what!?”

  Tek jerks the wheel hard to the right, driving the minivan straight off the road in a plume of yellow dust. Gus nearly slides out of his seat as Tek slams on the brakes.

  “What are you doing?” I yell as I reach back and grab Gus, getting him settled back in his seat. “Why are you trying to kill us when we’re so close??”

  When I look to the front of the minivan, all I see is Tek’s open door. He's left us.

  Great. Just great.

  “Gussie, you stay here. I've got to go talk to Uncle Tek.”

  I slide open the side door and the Texas heat and sun almost push me back into the car. God, it's hot. Blazing hot. Pits of hell hot. I see Tek stalking away through the low, dried bushes. Nico shuffles up beside me, scrubbing his hand over his forehead.

  “Now you did it,” he growls. “He's probably going to get bit by a rattlesnake or scorpion or nest of tarantulas or something. Nice going.”

  “Nice going?” I repeat. “I didn't do shit! I don't know what kinda malfunction has him all wound up.”

  “Charli, you can’t cross the border with that kind of cash.”

  I take a breath to say something, but my mouth just kind of hangs open instead. Is he right? “What are you talking about?”

  “I'm talking about Customs. You cannot cross an international border with $75,000 in cash in a black fucking duffel bag. Are you insane?”

  “Well… No, I'm not insane. I mean… Well, what are people supposed to do?”

  “They're supposed to lay low, Charli! This isn’t the old west! They’re supposed to maybe solve their problems without running away, did you ever think of that? They’re certainly not supposed to try crossing the border with what looks like the proceeds of some kind of massive drug deal in a suitcase with two felons driving the getaway car!”

  I grind my molars together. When he puts it like that… Well, okay. I suppose he has a point.

  What the hell was I supposed to do?

  “Well I’m not to just going to leave the money here on the side of the road, if that's what you're thinking,” I mutter. “There has got to be a way. Right? You guys will think of something, right? You’re the experts, after all.”

  Nico chuckles bitterly. He stuffs his hands into his trouser pockets and squints into the distance. I follow his gaze and see that Tek is on his way back now. He was apparently not downed by a rattlesnake, but he is also not looking any more calm.

  “Yeah, I'm not really sure what we’re gonna do here. I know Tek doesn't really like to change boats midstream.”

  “Yeah, don't I know it.” I agree sullenly.

  When Tek stomps back into shouting distance, he doesn't even look at me. He looks right at Nico.

  “She's gonna have to leave the money here,” he announces.

  “She says she won't,” Nico replies.

  “Hey, guys? I'm standing right here.”

  “No choice,” Tek declares. “I didn't drive all the way down the fucking ass end of Texa
s only to turn around and try to find somewhere else to stash her. I'm done with this. We have gone one million miles beyond what anybody would've expected us to do, especially in this situation. She should be grateful. I think that we can take something like three grand each across the border. The rest of it's just gotta stay here.”

  “Seriously!” I announce. “I am standing right here!”

  “This isn’t a good idea, Tek,” Nico says reasonably. “I mean, between me not having a passport, and her carrying a boatload of cash, maybe we should think of something else.”

  “Fuck you, I'm not thinking of anything else. I’ve thought of enough.”

  “Jesus, what happened to you guys?” I wonder aloud. “You talk like you hate each other. You used to be so close —”

  “— we were never that close,” Tek spits out.

  I can feel Nico flinch beside me. I glance at him just in time to see him conceal the look of hurt that flashes across his face. They were close. We were all close. Now look at us.

  I hold up my hands up like a traffic cop, Stop. “Guys, this is going too far. Come on. We can figure this out, okay? The three of us… We can figure this out.”

  Tek stabs in the air between us with his index finger. “I had it figured out, Charli! It was all figured out! But then here you go! You gotta fuck it all up again just like always!”

  I feel like he pushed me. I can’t believe he is saying this to me.

  “I'm doing the best I can,” I remind him in a low voice.

  “And just how good is that? Here you are, single mother, stealing a kid away from God knows who, trying to run across the border to Mexico? This seems like an okay plan to you? Does this seem like a smart thing to do?”

  “Well… Most of this was your idea!”

  “It never occurred to you to stay where you were and try to fix your fucking problems?”

  Nico rocks back and forth on his feet. “That's what I told her.”

  I ignore him. I don't need this shit. “You know what, neither one of you have any right to say a goddamn word to me about my choices, okay? What have you been doing for the last seven years, hanging out? Eating shrimp cocktail and talking to the old guys? Yeah, that sounds like a real challenge! Why don’t you try being a single mother for a while, huh? Why don’t you try being the only person responsible for a whole other human life, huh?”