Gun Moll (27 page)

She met his stare,
smiling slightly. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I’m going to
keep telling you that.”

“Will you?”

Mac nodded. “Every
time someone tells you differently. I absolutely fucking will.”

He shouldn’t have
to, but he would.

Because people
like his father were everywhere.

They couldn’t be
escaped.

“
Ti amo
,”
Mac repeated.

Melina wove their
fingers. “Always, Mac.”

“
Tanto. Sempre
,
Melina.”

“I don’t know what
that means,” she said.

“So much.
Forever.”

Melina stared out
the windshield. She still felt a million miles away to Mac.

“Talk to me,” he
demanded.

“I thought, at
first, that you didn’t think I was good enough to tell your father who I was to
you,” she confessed, her tone barely above a breath.

“Never.”

“I figured out
really quickly that he just wasn’t important enough for you to tell him.”

“Exactly,” Mac said.

“Your mom, though
…”

Mac chuckled.
“Doll, she’s going to adore you. She just needs to know her son is in good
hands. She’s always going to be like that with me. With Victoria, she’ll send
her off with a smile. When it comes to me, she’s insane.”

“Can we just …
go?” Melina asked.

Sighing, Mac
ignored the heaviness settling over his heart. “Yeah, sure.”

He started the
car, but a familiar form leaning on the front steps of his mother’s home
stopped him from pulling away. James stood there in the shadows, watching and
smoking a cigarette.

Mac had all he
could do not to get out of the car and beat the man’s head into the pavement.

He started the car
instead.

Mac didn’t say a
thing when Melina lifted her middle finger to his father, either. The bastard deserved
it.

“Maccari.”

Mac straightened
at the familiar voice, a drop of tension sliding down his spine. He spun on his
heel to face the man who had called his name in the quiet warehouse.

“Anthony,” Mac
greeted the Capo.

Anthony strolled
across the cracked cement floor with an easy, confident stride. He fiddled with
his lapel on his suit jacket, ignoring the other
soldatos
in Guido’s
crew moving around the place. His focus was solely on Mac.

This didn’t bode
well.

Mac still owed the
man for the truck fuck up.

“Guido said I
would find you here,” Anthony said.

Mac shrugged.
“Work, you know.”

“I hear you’re
good for that.” Anthony smiled as he came to a stop just a couple of feet away
from Mac. “Guido isn’t the one who says it, however.”

Mac’s brow
furrowed.

That wasn’t the
first time someone had mentioned how his Capo didn’t openly give Mac credit
when it was due.

“I don’t think he
realizes what he’s got in you,” Anthony said, looking around the warehouse. He
watched the men work quietly and efficiently. The crew had heisted a truck full
of electronics and was trying to get it sorted and ready for quick sales. “Here
you are, making sure these young men walk the right line and get their business
handled. Guido wouldn’t have half the crew he currently has if it weren’t for
you. Isn’t that right, Maccari?”

Mac knew better
than to drum up his own deeds. Pride was a good thing to have, but too much of
it got a man in trouble.

“I’m just doing
what I’m told,” Mac said.

“You’re being a
good
soldato
,” Anthony replied. “I could use a man like you on my crew.
You would have had your button by now, had you been my man.”

Jesus.

Mac shoved his
hands in his pockets, still wary and confused about Anthony’s presence and the
conversation they were having. “Would I?”

Anthony shrugged.
“Sure. It’s always a little dangerous when you’ve got a good solider getting
attention from the higher ups in the family, you know. Because when attention
is on someone else in
la famiglia
, that means it’s not on you.”

And every man
wanted the boss’s approval. Every man wanted to be noticed and for all the
right reasons. It was a well-played game in Cosa Nostra.

Mac got it.

Unfortunately, he
still didn’t trust Anthony a great deal. He was a rival Capo, after all. The
man was fighting for the boss’s attention and approval against Mac’s boss.

Considering there
were only a handful of people who could want Mac dead, and he knew one of them
wasn’t the Pivetti boss, Anthony had taken a spot on the list. The truck
accident had been a stupid mistake, sure, and one that Mac apologized for.

But stupid
mistakes killed men.

Grudges killed
men.

Fuck ups were how men
like Mac died all the time in Cosa Nostra.

“Your boy in the
far right corner has been watching us for the last five minutes instead of
working,” Anthony noted.

Mac didn’t even
need to look to know which man Anthony was talking about. “Stephano, quit standing
around with your fingers in your ass or I’ll make that a permanent look for
you.”

“Sorry, Mac,” came
the quiet reply from behind him.

“They like you,”
Anthony said. “Respect you.”

“Aren’t they
supposed to?” Mac asked.

It’s what made the
crew manageable, for the most part.

Anthony didn’t
reply, instead saying, “As much as I hate Guido, the asshole that he is, I do
like you, Maccari.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve decided how
you can make the money, and get back in my good graces for the truck incident.”

Wonderful.

Mac kept his face
a blank mask. “And how is that?”

“I heard you have
a thing for fighting in a cage. You’re pretty quick on your feet. Practically
unbeatable. Rumor is, you’re known to step over into another family’s stomping
grounds to catch the best matches.”

“I only fight when
I need some extra cash,” Mac said quickly.

He didn’t want
problems for messing with another family.

“Calm down,”
Anthony said, chuckling. “I’m not here to get you in trouble. Business is
business, after all. How confident are you in your ability to win a fight?”

“Pretty confident,
if I can size up my opponent beforehand,” Mac admitted.

“I know a
place—not like the one you go to for fights. It’s an occasional thing, high
stakes, and anyone can fight if they’ve got the right cash. Bets are instant
and in the thousands. Fight for me for one night, give up all your winnings,
and you’ll never hear me say a bad word about you or our business again.”

Mac held off his
agreement for a moment. He wondered if Anthony was playing some kind of game
with him. One that might get him killed.

“Can I bring
someone?” Mac asked.

Anthony raised a
brow. “Like who?”

“My girl.”

Melina would have
his back.

Mac trusted her
above everyone in his life.

Anthony grinned.
“Ah, I see. I don’t have a problem with that, as long as she refrains from
causing us any issues.”

“She won’t. And
she likes seeing me fight,” Mac added, smirking.

“Good.” Anthony
turned on his heel, heading back towards the warehouse entrance. “I’ll give you
a call, Mac. You won’t see me around here again. Guido’s home isn’t a welcoming
place for a man like me.”

Guido wasn’t all
too fond of Anthony, either. Mac still refused to feed into Guido’s nonsense
about taking Anthony out. There wasn’t any reason. Rivalry wasn’t good enough
to spill blood.

“Unlike Guido,”
Anthony said, still walking, “I know better than to toy around in another
Capo’s business or territory. Do me a favor, Mac.”

“What’s that?”

Anthony pulled
open the old, rusted door of the warehouse. “Tell your Capo to stay behind his
own damn lines, and leave my crew alone.”

When had Guido
gone into Anthony’s territory?

And why?

Anthony left the
warehouse before Mac could ask.

Mac kicked off his
shoes, hearing the womanly giggles echoing from the kitchen. Not one set of
giggles, but two.

Both were
familiar.

Confused, Mac
quietly padded down the hallway and stayed in the shadows of the entrance of
his apartment. He preferred Melina’s place, but he needed a few things from his
own apartment for the week. Melina agreed to stay at his place for a couple of
days while he worked some things out with business.

Standing side by
side, Mac watched as Melina copied her companion’s actions as she kneaded a
thick clump of dough.

Victoria—Mac’s
sister—smiled and nodded approvingly. “There you go. Just make sure you mash it
good, and it’ll rise great.”

Something primal
curled in Mac’s gut, hot and twisted. He liked seeing Melina in the kitchen,
working and cooking. She wasn’t the homemaker type, as far as that went, but he
liked the sight of it all the same.

It got him hot and
crazy.

Mac tampered it
down.

But only because
his sister was there.

Why was his sister
there again?

“I don’t know,”
Melina said. “How is this going to help?”

“Listen …”
Victoria grabbed a bit of flour and tossed it over Melina’s pile of dough.
“It’s like this for my mother, she needs to make sure you’re up to speed. Poor
little Mac, he can’t feed himself unless it’s her cooking the food, or dress
himself, or keep himself warm. I know, he’s grown and can handle his shit, but
not to my mom. This will help, trust me.”

“I still think
you’re nuts.”

Mac chuckled,
unable to stop himself. Both women’s heads snapped up, their gazes leveling on
him. He stepped into the kitchen with a shake of his head.

“You think she’s
nuts because she is,” Mac said, shooting his glaring sister a smile. “Vic, good
to see you.”

“And you. You’ve
been everywhere but to see me these last couple of months. I was starting to
think you must be dead,” Victoria said, not hiding her bite in the least.

Melina laughed,
but kept quiet.

“So you just
showed up at my apartment looking for me?” Mac asked.

“Ma mentioned you
brought a girl around. I wanted to come and see you, maybe find out why you
didn’t mention anything to me.”

Mac scowled. “It’s
a new thing, Vic. I’m working on it.”

“I saved you the
trouble.”

Melina jerked her
thumb at Victoria. “I like her.”

“Of course you
do,” Mac said. “She’s just as difficult and hard on the head as you are, doll.
Birds of a feather and all that.”