Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family Series Book 2) (15 page)

“I’m the guy trying to keep you safe.”

Something inside of me snapped. I opened my mouth, and all my confusion and frustration came rushing out.

“Safe from who? Because as far as I can tell, the only one I really need protection from is you. You know I like you, and you screw with my feelings and make me think you actually give a damn about me, too. You tell me all this shit about your mom… your past… you take me to your secret spot and... fine, I probably read too much into the situation. Romantic dinner, honest conversation, sue me for believing you wanted the same thing I did. I gambled our friendship for a chance at something more, and clearly that was the wrong play. I screwed up, and I am hurt and upset about it, and—” My voice cracked. I wanted to ask him what the Coach bag had meant, but even thinking the words made me feel ungrateful. I swallowed them back. “—and you can’t
make
me ride with you every day, pretending none of that happened.”

Stupid tears leaked down my face, making me feel even more weak and vulnerable. I turned toward the side window and brushed them away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did, though. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me he was sorry.

I choked back a sob, straightened, and stared out the window. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” I lied.

We rode the rest of the rest of the way in silence, and when we got to the condo, Bones dropped me off and left again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bones

S
ATURDAY NIGHT, ANGEL’S parents were going to some sort of charity dinner and the nanny was unavailable, so Angel and Markie dragged me and Ariana with them to keep an eye on Angel’s siblings. Worried about Ariana, I spent the ride coaching her on what to say and how to act when she met the Marianis. The last thing we needed was for her to accidentally insult them.

“You know I’m housebroken, right?” Ariana asked. “I promise not to pee on their carpet or hump anyone’s leg.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Markie said, giggling.

I wasn’t amused. “This is serious, Ari. You don’t know how important respect is to the family. They don’t tolerate any disrespect.”

“And I’m mouthy. But I’ll be on my best behavior. You’ll see. Parents love me. And ohmigod is this ‘The Fortress’?” she asked, gaping out the window.

Angel chuckled at Markie’s nickname for his dad’s home.

“Holy crap, the guards really are carrying semi-automatics,” Ariana said.

I had to admit, the sight of the boss’s house still unnerved me. Armed guards waved us in while security cameras tracked our vehicle. A maid let us in to a gorgeous foyer, decorated in the browns and oranges of autumn, where we waited to be received. A curvy redhead wearing a low-cut glittery green gown and a jewelry store worth of diamonds came down the wraparound staircase and greeted us with all the forced joy of a mall Santa.

“Angel, Bones, Markie, thank you for coming,” Rachelle said with her signature plastic smile. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to this, Markie?”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t overdo it,” Angel said, squeezing Markie to him.

Markie gave him an annoyed look. “Yes ma’am. I’m feeling much better. As I told everyone at Christmas.”

The hair rose on the back of my neck when Rachele turned her attention onto Ariana. “Markie’s sister. Yes, I remember seeing you at the emergency room, but I don’t believe we were introduced.”

Angel stepped in. “Rachele, this is Ariana. Ari, my stepmother, Rachele.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ariana replied. “Beautiful gown, by the way.”

I eyed Rachele’s dress, wondering if Ariana was being serious. The thing was cut down to almost her belly button, revealing an eyeful of augmented cleavage.

“Thank you. It was a gift from a local designer, Fabio Meda. The man is a genius and this little number is his generous contribution to tonight’s charity ball.” Then she dismissed Ariana and turned back to Angel. “Dom is almost finished, and then we’ll head out. Angel, I trust your father sent you the new security specs?”

The house had been attacked only weeks ago. Although the damage had been extensive, all evidence of it was gone. Seriously, not even a trace of new paint smell. If I hadn’t seen the bullet holes firsthand, I’d never believe it had happened.

“Yes.”

“Good. Please call immediately if there’s any trouble.”

“Where are Georgie and Luci?” Markie asked, looking around.

“Hiding,” Rachele said with a huff. “Constantly. It’s their new favorite game. Makes it nearly impossible to get anywhere on time.”

A bigger, older, intimidating version of Angel came down the stairs. Power and money wafted from Dominico Mariani, their presence as real as the fat luxury watch he secured around his wrist as he descended. He acknowledged us with a nod before ushering Rachele out the door. The second we heard their car start, Angel started prowling around the house.

“Now we hunt down the beasts,” he said.

Young laughter came from the hallway.

Angel headed in that direction with Markie on his heels. He turned and frowned at her. “Not you. You should go sit in the family room. I’ll round them up and bring them in.”

“Right.” Markie sighed. “I’ll go stare at Rachele’s fascinating magazine collection while you have all the fun.”

He and Markie took off while I patted Ariana on the arm. “You did great. You can breathe now. They’re gone.”

She blew out a breath. “That’s Angel’s dad, huh?”

I grinned. Not only that, he was the
capo dei capi,
the boss of the Las Vegas families, but Ariana didn’t need to know that bit of information. “Don’t worry. He has that effect on everyone.”

She was about to say something else, but I hushed her. “You hear that?” I asked, listening.

“Wha—”

I put a finger to her lips and pointed toward the kitchen before slipping my oxfords off and creeping that direction. Ariana followed. When we stepped onto the tile floor, I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled to the island, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Ariana was still behind me. I had a pretty good idea of who we were stalking, and if I was right, I’d need backup.

I rounded the corner and let out the loudest roar I could. Luciana jumped three feet in the air—almost doubling her height—before squealing and sprinting past me. I reached for her, but the little booger was fast. She ran around the long dining room table once, twice, a third time, and each time, I gained on her.

“Are you gonna help me?” I asked, looking to Ariana who was laughing at the sight.

“I can’t,” she said between fits of giggles. “This looks too much like a Tom and Jerry episode.”

Realizing she was right, I eased up. Luciana took advantage of the break and dove under the table. I groaned, knowing I’d have to go in after her.

“Good move, Luci!” Ariana cheered.

“Who are you rooting for here?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

She shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the grin from her face. “Sorry. I meant get her, Bones. Yeah, that’s it.”

Luciana giggled.

I lunged for her.

“Help me, Ari!” Luciana shouted.

Ariana rushed in, but I had no idea which side she was on. I fell back, and Luciana sprinted out from under the table to join up with her brother, who was still evading Angel. We chased the little curtain-climbers around the house until they were good and tired. Angel’s other two sisters, Sonia and Sofia, emerged from their rooms, phones in hand, and let us know they were starving half to death and expected us to rectify the situation. They were thirteen and eleven going on twenty, wearing makeup and leggings with sweaters, but ate like college-aged boys. We ordered pizza and settled around the table. Georgio and Luciana gave us the rundown on the days since Christmas.

“Has father stepped up your training?” Angel asked.

Sonia nodded, flicking mushrooms off her slice of pizza. “Yep and it’s been brutal. He brought in a trainer who’s literally trying to kill us.”

“You mean figuratively, and I doubt it. He’s literally trying to keep you alive,” I said. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.”

“But check out the guns I’m getting,” Georgio said, standing and posing to flex his biceps and chest.

“That’s nothing. Mine are bigger,” Luciana said, joining him.

“What’s the trainer been working on?” I asked.

“Pressure points,” Sofia said. “Where to hit people to make them stop breathing. How to use pepper spray. Stuff like that.”

“Hey, that’s what my trainer’s been working on, too,” Ariana said, eyeing me.

“Wanna spar?” Luciana asked.

“Spar?” Ariana’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “You know martial arts, too?”

Luciana grinned.

“I would, but you’d definitely kick my butt.”

Angel laughed. “You’re probably right. They’ve had years of conditioning, and I know their trainer is way better than Bones.”

“Ha-ha, funny boy. I’m good enough to keep your sorry as—butt alive.”

“Where’s Dante?” Angel asked.

“Dante’s sad,” Luciana said.

“He stays in his room most of the time,” Georgio added. “Dad told us not to bug him. He needs time to be alone right now.”

Angel’s expression fell. He and his seventeen-year-old brother used to be close, but over the past few years their father’s manipulation had driven a wedge between them. Most recently, Angel had threatened to blow up Dante’s car. The car did blow up, and although neither Angel nor I had been involved in that mess, it had been too much of a coincidence for Dante to ignore. The collateral damage had been enough to sever their relationship for good. Angel was probably the last person Dante wanted to see right now.

“I’ll go check on him,” I said, piling an extra plate with pizza.

“Thanks, man,” Angel said.

I found Dante in his bedroom, lights off, curtains closed, reclining in a gaming chair in front of his television. I tapped on the door as I pushed it open, but he didn’t acknowledge me. The sound of gunfire drew my attention to the screen; Dante was deep into some sort of first-person shooter game. I stood back and watched, waiting until he finished the round before setting the plate of pizza down at the base of his television.

“Hey,” I said. “Got another controller?”

He handed me one and queued us up for a game.

My family was never big on discussing our emotions. When Pops disappeared, I would occasionally hear Ma crying late at night when she thought we were asleep, but we never talked about it. Like normal people, we bottled our emotions and kept putting one foot in front of the other. But I could tell by Dante’s greasy curls, dirty, rumpled clothes, and bloodshot eyes he’d stopped moving forward. The kid had watched his girlfriend blow up along with his car. He probably needed a professionally-trained counselor to help him deal with that kind of shit. A counselor would be seen as a sign of weakness, though, and there was no way Dominco Mariani would allow his son to be seen as weak.

So we handled it like wiseguys and let the elephant take up the whole damn room as we blew faces off.

“Sniper in that building to your right,” I said, ducking my character behind a car as bullets rained down on me.

Dante sneaked around and shot the guy in the head. “Got him.”