Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family Series Book 2) (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bones

“H
EY BUD, LONG night? Busy day?” Angel asked, dipping his razor into a sink full of water.

“Yeah to both.” I hadn’t seen Angel since yesterday afternoon. He was already in bed when I dropped Ariana off last night. I went back out to get the supplies for her present, and spent half the night working on it. Then I got a call from one of Carlo’s soldiers early this morning, with a possible lead on Joey Durante. Ready to get this thing done and over with, I jumped at the chance to meet with the contact, and rushed right out.

The contact was an older guy named Martin who worked at a convenience store a few blocks from Circus Circus. When I arrived, Martin took one look at me and told me I looked like my old man.

“You knew my pops?” I asked, surprised.

Martin nodded and told the kid working with him he was taking a break. Then he led me out back to an enclosed area with a plastic picnic table. He lit up a cigarette, leaned against the building, and started in on the tale about the Durante family.

“Back when the Mariani family took power, Maurizio Durante was killed. Three of his sons were also iced, but Joey—the youngest—disappeared. The kid must have only been about four or five back then, so the Marianis didn’t look too hard for him, if you know what I mean.”

Angel’s dad had won the war, and needed to secure his throne. He hadn’t been willing to waste time and money to hunt down a kid. Now that Joey was back, I wondered if the boss was regretting his decision.

Martin took a drag from his cigarette and continued. “Rumor has it that the Marianis got the drop on the Durantes because they had a guy on the inside. An enforcer who was feeding information back to Dom. Old Maurizio had a niece named Ambra who was quite the looker, and the Mariani enforcer fell for her. Hard. They got married, and had a little girl. All while he was carrying Durante secrets back to Dom. When the shit hit the fan, the enforcer got both Ambra and their young daughter out of there.”

“How did Joey escape?” I asked.

Martin shrugged. “Ambra was Joey’s babysitter, so she’d be my best guess.”

“What happened to Ambra and the child?” I asked.

“Nobody knows.” Martin took another drag.

“And the enforcer?”

Martin let out a breath of smoke and looked away. His hesitancy to answer raised a red flag in my mind, but I waited for him to answer. “He led a double life for a few years, going back and forth between his other family and Ambra and their daughter. Then about thirteen years ago he up and disappeared for good. To this day, nobody knows where he is… which family finally got wise to him and put him under.”

Ice filled my veins. Dreading the answer I feared he’d give me, I asked, “Who was the enforcer?”

Martin put out his cigarette in the ashtray by the door and looked me in the eye. His expression—a mixture of pity and understanding—only confirmed my fears. He didn’t give me a name, though. Instead, he frowned and said, “I believe you already know.”

Then he went back inside, leaving me alone with a truth I refused to accept.

I drove around for the next several hours, trying to reconcile a man I could barely remember with the enforcer from Martin’s story. By the time I got back to the condo my body was exhausted, my mind was numb, and my heart was torn.

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked, turning to stare at me. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, but Carlo’s warning sounded in my ears.

“This woman who’s after your girl… that’s your problem. She’s not after Angel. You better keep my nephew out of it, or you and me… we’re gonna have beef.”

Carlo knew. He’d known all along and he’d kept the truth from me. Now, after all these years, he sent me to Martin as his twisted way of coming clean. This was
my
fight, my family, and Carlo should know better than to think I’d ever drag Angel into it.

“Nothing. Just tired and running late.” I scooted past him to the second sink, turned on the water, and splashed my face. The cold blast did little to wake me up, but it did keep Angel from asking more questions. I pulled out my razor and cleaned up the two-day shadow on my face, then grabbed a fresh suit from the side of Angel’s closet I’d taken over and headed to his bedroom to dress.

“You pick up that Camry again?” Angel asked, pulling on his suit.

“Nope. Haven’t seen it since I started driving the Jeep.”

“Well, that’s… something, I guess,” he said. “Did you find out who wants Ari?”

“Nope,” I said. “I’ve got a lot of feelers out there, though. I’m sure I’ll hear something soon.”

“You and Ari better?”

“Yep.”

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“I’m good. Unless, of course, you want me to lie on your bed and tell you all my deepest, darkest desires like you’re some sort of damn shrink.” I smoothed down his blankets, as if I was considering it.

“Stay off my bed!” Angel snapped. “And keep that shit to yourself. Nobody wants to hear your desires. Don’t even say that word in my presence.”

I laughed, feeling lighter. “Oh come on. Please give me advice on my love life. You know, since you’re such a pro and all.”

He flipped me off. We finished dressing and hung out in the living room, waiting for the girls.

“Wanna shoot some faces off?” Angel asked.

Since he wasn’t exactly the violent type, I knew he meant in-game. We fired up the television.

“Dante’s on. Want me to invite him?” I asked.

Angel shrugged. “Sure. He’ll probably ignore the invite anyway.”

Despite his attitude, I knew Angel missed his little brother. I threw Dante an invite, but he never accepted. After a few minutes we gave up and started without him. About an hour of mindless gameplay turned out to be exactly what I needed to chill the hell out. By the time the girls finally emerged, my mind was almost blissfully blank.

“Is this what we’re doing tonight?” Markie asked.

Angel turned to look at her and was immediately shot dead in the game. “Damn,” he breathed. “You look… damn.”

Markie was a knockout. Her inch-long blonde hair only made her blue eyes look bigger and more intense, and her lips look fuller and more pronounced. The dress she wore pulled attention to all the right places, but she only held my attention for a moment, because Ariana stepped out behind her, wearing a floor-length gown that fit her like a glove. I was immediately torn between wanting to see her on the stage dressed like this, and wanting to lock her away where no horny assholes could molest her with their eyes.

“It’s not too much, is it?” Ariana asked, sounding hesitant and self-conscious.

In the background, I barely registered my character being riddled with bullets. I couldn’t look at that, though. Everything I wanted to see was right in front of me. Was it too much? Yes, definitely, because the sight of her caught my skin on fire.

“No, don’t be silly,” Markie assured her. “You look gorgeous. Doesn’t she, Bones?”

I stood, officially on the spot. My gaze thirstily drank her in as I tried to compose a reply which didn’t include my tongue rolling out of my mouth.

“I can change,” Ariana offered. “Wear something a little less—”

“No.” I finally found my voice. “You look… wow… amazing. Don’t change.”

She blushed.

“It looks great on you. I’m glad you like it,” Angel added.

Ariana spun around. “
The
nicest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you so much!”

“My pleasure,” Angel said, opening his arm to Markie, who slid in and hugged him. “Our pleasure, really.”

I wondered how my stupid homemade present could compete with the dress Angel and Markie had bought her. But before I could think too much on it, Markie ushered us out the door, reminding us we had reservations.

Markie wobbled a little in the hallway, unsteady on her legs after the surgery followed by more than a month of sitting. “I think my muscles are atrophying,” she said.

“I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” Angel replied.

“I told you, I’m not missing my sister’s twenty-first birthday dinner.”

He tightened his hold around her. “Yes, but a wheelchair—”

“Is ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”

Angel didn’t look so sure, but he let her make it almost to the elevator before scooping her up in his arms like they’d just gotten married and he was carrying her over the threshold. I couldn’t help but wonder if my friend was getting in practice. He hadn’t mentioned the ring since we’d picked it up, but the gesture was a glaring reminder he had it.

“I
can
walk,” Markie replied. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to.”

She smiled and leaned against him, making herself comfortable.

We took a cab to Uncle Mario’s restaurant, where we were escorted to the table with the best view of the stage. Because of its central location, it left us exposed. No matter where I sat, there were occupied tables at my back. Feeling uneasy, I looked to Angel, who shrugged and pulled out a seat for Markie. Reasoning that we were in Uncle Mario’s restaurant and he wouldn’t have put us where he couldn’t protect us, I gave up and pulled out Ariana’s chair for her.

The waitress went around the table collecting drink orders, and when she got to me I asked for water.

Ariana put her hand on my thigh and leaned in. “It’s my birthday, and I want you to relax and have a good time.”

“I am relaxed,” I objected. Well, as relaxed as I could possibly get, knowing she was in danger, Joey Durante was still breathing, and I was running out of time to fix both problems.

She handed me the drink menu. “Pick one, or I’ll pick for you.”

That sounded dangerous, so I played it safe and ordered a beer. Shortly after the waitress brought our drinks and took our food orders, the pianist wrapped up his set. A second microphone was set up in the center of the stage, and the pianist removed it from the stand and spoke into it.

“Tonight we have a very special treat for you,” he said. “One of our honored guests is celebrating her twenty-first birthday, and I’d like to get her up on the stage.” He looked right at our table. “Ariana, will you be a doll and join me for a moment, please?”

Ariana’s jaw dropped. “What did you do?” she asked Markie.

Markie grinned, looking all too guilty. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you better get your butt up there and show the world why you deserve to be on that stage.”

As Ariana stood and headed up, I scanned the restaurant, searching for the talent scout who promised me he’d be there. When I spotted him leaning against the back wall, Noah gave me a mock salute.

Ariana’s hands shook as she accepted the microphone from the pianist.

“Ariana is quite the songbird,” the pianist said. “And tonight, she’ll be performing for us.”

Ariana’s eyes grew wide. “I will?”

The pianist chuckled. He whispered something to her and she nodded, still looking uncertain.

The pianist sat. Then clean, crisp piano notes competed with the chatter of the room. The intro came and went, but Ariana did not raise the microphone to her lips. Her eyes were full of fear as she took in the room. My stomach sank. I looked back at Noah, but his attention was on his phone.

“Come on, Ari, you’ve got this,” Markie muttered.

The pianist slowed his notes and came back around to repeat the intro. This time, Ariana raised the mic and sang the first line of the verse, sounding hesitant and barely audible. The chatter of the restaurant grew, drowning her out completely.

Markie leaned forward in her chair, as if to run up and rescue her sister.

Ariana stopped midnote and said something to the pianist. He nodded and wound down again as she replaced the microphone in the stand. She was giving up. I turned back to look at Noah, and he shrugged at me before turning to leave. The intro restarted, and Noah looked up at the stage and froze. I followed his gaze to find Ariana staring back, her eyes glowing with determination. She took a deep breath, and this time, when she opened her mouth, there was zero hesitation.

Ariana’s strong, powerful alto owned the room, snapping all conversations to a halt as it dipped and rose, flirting and promising. The entire restaurant fell silent, captivated by her voice. By the time she reached the chorus, we were enslaved. She grabbed hold of the microphone stand and belted out soul-filled notes, riding the bluesy-jazzy edge of the song like an orphan raised on the streets of the deep south.