I lit the wicks for two candles and bowed my head, grasping Mamà’s rosary tightly between my fingers. I prayed for hers and Filip’s souls and for continued healing of mine and Papà’s hearts.
I sent up a quick one for Ace, too.
A prayer of thanks that I was able to have the time with him that I did and for protection of him and his family.
“Happy birthday, Filip,” I whispered as a lone tear silently slid down my cheek.
That was all I would allow. Just one. If more followed, I wouldn’t be able to stem the flow until I’d drained myself completely dry. And at this rate, who knew how long that would take.
Papà’s arm came around me, hugging me into his side. “Let me take these outside, and then we can go,” he said, speaking of the bouquet of stunning red roses for Mamà’s grave. A classic romantic at heart, they had always been her favorite.
We walked back down the center aisle of empty pews. The church was somber and quiet. The amber glow of the flickering lights from the candles bounced off the stone walls. It provided an almost ethereal ambiance. As if the lost spirits one prayed for inside these hallowed walls occupied not only the celestial world but this one, too, drifting somewhere between reality and our unconscious mind. I kept my mother and brother in my heart always, but I couldn’t say that I ever sensed their presence in my life, as much as I wanted to.
I was a spiritual person, but I was also a scientific one.
And when someone left, they were forever gone in my mind.
I just told myself they were watching over me from Heaven, and that was enough for me.
We stepped through the back door to the graveyard, a place I rarely cared to visit. If I ever wanted to speak to Mamà, I knew I could do it from anywhere. She no longer had a physical presence on this earth, so I didn’t have to be standing in front of her tombstone for her spirit to hear me.
But there was just something about visiting her final resting place. The place her bones would remain for eternity. Perhaps it was the reminder that she would never sit beside me again. That I would never see her smile, never hear her laugh again. Obviously, I had accepted that reality years ago.
That didn’t mean facing this ever got easier.
“Ah, good evening, D’Angelos. We have been waiting for you.”
Papà and I both came to an abrupt halt at the eerie, gravelly voice.
It wasn’t a ghost, though.
It was a living nightmare.
Santi Gabbiano stood menacingly behind the graves of my mother and brother with Dominic by his side. Both were once again wearing their immaculate, bespoke suits. Several tall, hulking men suddenly appeared from the shadows and closed in on us, creating a half-circle. One man took deliberate steps behind us, blocking our escape back inside the church.
The only thing I could really focus on, though? The large hole next to Mamà’s tombstone.
It was a grave.
A freshly dug grave.
The sounds of angry thunder and lightning rounded out the morbidity. I counted the seconds between the low rumbles. One, two, three, four—more thunder. Judging from the timing, the rain wasn’t far away.
Santi was the one who’d greeted us. He watched us with a cordial smile, his hands clasped behind his back. Dominic hadn’t removed his gaze from me. He, too, looked quite pleased and even mildly amused with the situation.
“Evening, Santi,” Papà said in a tight, yet unwavering voice. “What brings you here tonight?”
He subtly pushed me behind his back, though I knew acting as my shield wouldn’t do any good. If they wanted to hurt us, they could easily do so. Even if I had the strength of any one of these men, we were still outnumbered.
“Oh, we just came to speak to the lost souls,” Santi answered amiably. Then he added in a lower tone, “And maybe welcome some new ones.”
The words flew out of my mouth before true terror could trap me in its grasp. “A fanabla.” Go to Hell. “The only souls that are lost here are yours.”
Santi considered me for long seconds before tipping his head back and releasing a booming laugh. “You do have your mother’s spirit, Roxanna. How very charming, yet in need of training. Still, I can see why Dominic has taken such a liking to you.”
At that proclamation, Dominic slowly dragged his tongue over his lower lip. And blew me a kiss.
Gag.
“I’m afraid your nephew’s attraction is abysmally one-sided,” I retorted.
Dominic glowered while Santi raised an eyebrow. “Nevertheless, it does not need to be mutual for you to stand by his side. Your union will connect our syndicates once and for all. Far too much has gone awry in New York over the past year. But with a Gabbiano in the city, order can finally be restored to the families.”
“You know I cannot I allow that,” Papà spoke up.
I noticed Dominic move out of my eye line, but I kept my attention centered on Santi while Papà addressed him.
“I will not hand over my daughter like chattel to be used as a pawn for position and power. That is not Cosa Nostra. That is not what our ancestors believed in. Why they formed the organization in the first place.”
“Spare me your platitudes, Vincenzo,” Santi spat. “Our ancestors sought wealth and power and aimed to rule over their fellow man. It was never about supporting each other or doing honest hard work to achieve success. That is for the weaker man who only thinks small. And that man never becomes a leader.” He raised his arm and pointed his gun at Papà. “And that is why I’m the one pointing the gun at you and not the other way around.”
Oh, God. This is really happening.
“Is that also why you had my wife and son killed?”
My eyes darted first to Papà, who was watching Santi closely yet calmly. As if his accusation was not new information. When I moved my gaze back to Santi, he looked just as unsurprised by the loaded question.
He grinned smugly. “Finally figured out the mystery, did you?”
“It was never a mystery,” Papà hissed, finally showing some emotion. “I knew it was you all along. I just had to have proof, and then I could take my revenge.”
What?!
So, Papà had not only known their deaths weren’t an accident, he’d also known who their murderer was this whole time? Why had he never confided that to me? And while my mother and brother had been lying in the earth for five years, their killer had been walking the same earth as a free man.
It was even worse than I’d imagined.
Their deaths had been in vain.
That level of injustice could not stand. I wouldn’t allow it.
“Such a pity that you waited too long to take that revenge,” Santi replied coolly. “It is too late to avenge them, Vincenzo. Now, you will come join your wife and son.” He waved at the new grave with his gun. “You should be grateful I was kind enough to place yours right beside your wife’s.”
I looked back and forth between them again, stuck in my disbelief that he was actually serious.
Papà remained by my side, standing taller and more protectively over me.
Then Santi trained his gun on me.
A flash of lightning spotlighted the scene, illuminating Santi’s heinous expression.
“Either you go in that grave, Vincenzo, or she does. But one of you will. And if you think I won’t kill her because of my plans, you are sorely mistaken. I can alter them on a whim, if necessary. I assure you, I will consolidate power in this city with her dead or alive. Alive just makes my life easier, and it will please my nephew.”
After several tense seconds, Papà dropped the bouquet of roses and faced me, attempting a comforting smile. Leaning in to kiss my forehead, he whispered, “I love you so much, lina. Please don’t be sad for me. I’ll be with your mamà and Filip.”
Then he turned and silently walked toward the grave. His grave.
I, however, was not silent.
My feet trampled the red roses on the ground as I lunged in their direction. But str
ong arms imprisoned me, holding me in place.
I started screaming for Papà to stop because I could not lose the one person I had left. I called them monsters and so many curses in Italian, many of which I made up on the spot, I would be in confession for a month straight after this—if I lived through it.
But Papà was not going to die.
Let alone in front of me while I just stood by helplessly watching.
I realized it was Dominic who held me when he bent his head and said in my ear, “I hope you show this much passion when I get you beneath me. I thought you might try to act like a dead fish just to get it over with. But you might be one of those that wriggles around like a fish on the end of a hook instead.” His tongue licked along the shell of my ear, leaving a disgusting trail of saliva. “I like that kind so much better.”
His words sickened me to my core.
But hearing them was no worse than watching my papà climb into a cold, empty hole in the ground.
I was on the verge of hyperventilating. My breaths were coming too fast as panic seized me. Nearing the catatonic stage, almost paralyzed with fear, I watched in horror as Santi raised his gun and placed it right against Papà’s temple. Papà just stood there, waist-deep in his own grave, with his gaze locked on me.
“I want your word that no harm will come to her,” he said to Santi.
He must have seen the depraved look in Dominic’s eyes. I didn’t have to face my captor to know it was there.
“What the hell makes you think I would promise you anything?” Santi snarled.
Papà’s jaw hardened. “Honoring a dying man’s final wish. Even you should be able to respect that.”
I shook my head at him, begging him not to speak like that. I couldn’t hear it.
He would live through this. He would not be leaving me today. He couldn’t.
Santi let out a bored breath. “Fine. You have my word that she will not be harmed.”
I could tell by the look in Papà’s eyes he didn’t really believe Santi, but he wanted to. As if hearing those words gave him some sort of absolution. He nodded at me, offered one last smile, and closed his eyes.
Bracing for death.
Santi cocked back the hammer and placed his finger on the trigger.
He smiled evilly at my father. “Tell them I said ‘hello.’”
“No! Please, don’t!” I screamed, my heart lurching. “Please!”
Instead of hearing the gun go off, we were all blinded by the bright floodlights around the cemetery that were suddenly turned on. My eyes automatically shut because the light was so white it was actually painful.
“What the hell is that?” I heard Santi yell.
“You two, go find out who’s turning on those goddamn lights!” Dominic shouted, making my eardrums ring.
Because I still hadn’t heard the gun go off, I had to assume Papà wasn’t dead yet. I struggled to break free of Dominic’s hold, but it seemed his temporary blindness hadn’t affected his strength.
Then all the lights went out.
In an instant, we were shrouded in pitch black darkness. Still blinding but in a different sense. I couldn’t make out anything around me.
As if Mother Nature had synchronized her watch to the lights, the sky opened up in the same instant and dropped a heavy blanket of rain down on our heads. The downpour was so thick and unrelenting, my clothes were completed soaked through in a matter of seconds. My hair was drenched and plastered to my head. Water droplets clung to my eyelashes, making it even more difficult to see anything.
But my hearing still worked fine.
And I heard Dominic very clearly when he hissed, “It’s the fucking Rossettis.”
Ace! He’s here!
Thank you, Lord.
More lightning briefly lit up the graveyard, offering a split-second of visibility. It was enough to see that Santi was still holding his gun to my father’s head.
Then it was dark again.
A shot rang out.
And my heart stopped.
“PAPÁ!”
He had his fucking hands on her.
That sadistic fuck, Dominic Gabbiano, had his hands on my woman—my Roxy.
And his grip was too goddamn tight. He would die for that alone.
“Hold your position,” Rome muttered to me from his spot behind the big London planetree to my right.
I crouched behind the wrought iron fence, some of the larger, older tombstones providing my cover. He could obviously sense my urge to leap over the fence and mow down every single bastard that stood between me and my girl.
But he and Luka had led hundreds of covert operations during their time in the military, so I would defer to his judgment on when it was time to move in. Dad and the rest of our brothers were also hidden along the perimeter, waiting for Rome’s command.
I watched with growing anticipation as Santi ordered Vinnie to get into the empty grave. Roxy turned into a hellcat then, struggling with all her might to break free from Dominic. She screamed at the top of her lungs and managed to raise some eyebrows with her language. Even in the midst of this life or death situation, I felt a sense of pride consume me at seeing her courage. My girl had heart and strength and—
I couldn’t lose her. I won’t.
I shook off those thoughts and focused on the mission at hand.
When Santi raised his gun and pointed it at Vinnie’s head, I glanced at my brother. “Rome.”
“Now.”
Having already accessed the church’s security system from my phone—thank God I’d installed all that new equipment two months ago—I pushed the button that activated the LED floodlights around the cemetery.
Everyone knew that was the signal to move in.
I didn’t hesitate to vault over the fence the second I pushed that button.
No second could be wasted when Roxy’s life was on the line.
Santi and Dominic were shouting orders to their men. Just as I’d planned, they were confused and disoriented under the blindingly bright lights. When every Rossetti had moved in and taken their new positions in the graveyard, I pushed another button on my phone that turned off every single light. Total darkness.
And sure enough, that’s when the rain came.
Bless me, Father, for I’m about to sin.
I laid out the first person who crossed my path.
I knocked out the second.
I could see well enough, even through the rain, but moving was becoming difficult as the grass grew slick and my boots got stuck in one muddy puddle after another. My sodden clothing added extra weight, and the blind punches I was throwing didn’t all stick the way I wanted. When my fist slid off one of my targets’ jaw, allowing him to get some shots in on me, I got pissed off. That’s when I just said fuck it and started clotheslining and body-checking every asshole stupid enough to get in my way.
Finally, I reached the spot where I’d last seen Roxy and Dominic.
Only, they weren’t there.
I could hear grunts and shouts coming from every direction around the graveyard. A shot rang out, but I couldn’t tell who had fired. From somewhere, Roxy screamed, “Papà!” but I still couldn’t get a bead on her location.
Another bullet cracked through the air, followed by a painful groan.
Please don’t let that be from our side.
Someone tackled me to the ground. I took a few punches to the face and the gut, but I wasn’t about to be stopped. I allowed my considerable rage to take over until everything was a blur. This man who dared to stand in my way became nothing but a fleshy lump on the ground.
After searching the entire area where Roxy should have been, I came up empty. No one was there. Only a broken bouquet of sopping wet red roses lay on the ground.
I couldn’t have missed them. They couldn’t have slipped past me.
Which only left one place…
“Ace!”
That was Roxy’s voice, and it was coming from inside the church.
&n
bsp; I’m coming, baby.
I pulled back the slide on my .22 and sprinted for the building’s back door. Just before my hand touched the big iron handle, a tremendous roar echoing through the night forced my attention back to the chaos behind me.
The bellow had come from Roxy’s family plot.
Dad was exchanging punches with one of the Gabbiano men while Vinnie rained blows down on Santi’s face and torso. He was the one who had yelled—he looked to be in some sort of violent trance. I’d never once seen Vinnie lose his composure, not even the day of the funeral.
But he’d well and truly lost it now.
“You killed my wife, you fucking bastard!” he shouted as he landed another bone-crunching blow across Santi’s jaw. “You took my child! My only son! Goddamn you!”
The last thing I saw was Vinnie launching himself at Santi and both of them hurtling backwards into the empty grave.
I hoped Vinnie snapped Santi’s neck.
I couldn’t even imagine what I would have done to the man who’d killed my wife and son. The notion that someone was threatening Roxy’s life even now had me on a rampage. As far as I was concerned, Santi was Vinnie’s to do whatever he wanted with.
When I burst through the church doors, I found Dominic and Roxy facing me from the other end of the sanctuary, standing at the base of the altar.
The gun he held to her head gleamed at me.
Ironically, a humongous wooden cross hung on the wall just above Dominic’s head.
His arm was wrapped around her slender neck, her small hands trying to loosen his grip. She looked relieved when her gaze landed on me. A psychopath was shoving a gun against her temple, and she actually looked happy to see me.
She knows you’re here to save her.
Damn right, I was.
“Drop the gun, Rossetti, or I will kill her,” Dominic’s voice lashed out.
I tightened my grip on my gun that I was aiming point-blank at his forehead. “You’re not getting out of here with her. You know that. So, let her go and we can settle this just between us.”
He scoffed, his eyes seething with hatred. “You won’t hesitate to shoot me the second I let her go.”
I didn’t say anything to that.
Scars and Sins (Brooklyn Brothers Book 2) Page 24