by B. B. Hamel
The driver didn’t have a chance. I put a bullet in his head before he realized what I was doing. I heard shouts from the back and muffled screams, like they’d shoved something in Ash’s mouth. Brett came limping toward me, eyes wide and wild, and I waved him off as I grabbed the back door and yanked it open.
Gunfire burst out. I stood off to the side, away from the opening. When it paused, I aimed inside and was about to shoot—
But hesitated. Ash was in there, and I might hit her.
More gunfire. I had to pull back, cursing. Brett shouted something and took cover behind a silver sedan. One of the guys in the van tried to get out, and I smashed the door against him, knocking him sideways. I put two bullets in his chest as two more guys leapt out and came at me.
I had to scatter. Bullets slammed into the ground all around me as I dove over the hood of a black Subaru and landed hard on the sidewalk on the other side. I came up shooting, but missed as they took cover.
Then more gunfire erupted and a scream. Brett was crouched on the far side of the van, and one of the shooters was dead. He beamed, excitement pained on his face—
“Brett!” I screamed as I aimed the gun at the other shooter.
Too late. The Healy guy fired, and Brett went down. I pulled the trigger and the Healy guy dropped under my bullets. I came out from behind the Subaru, made sure the guys were dead, then checked the van.
It was empty, except for Ash. I’d recognize those legs anywhere. Her wrists were tied and there was a bag over her head. I climbed in, took off the bag, and unbound her wrists.
“Gian,” she whispered.
“Come on,” I said, tugging her. “Brett’s hit.”
She followed me out. I ran over and found Brett propped up against the wheel of the sedan, hand over his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. He gasped for breath, his eyes wide with terror.
“You’ll be okay,” I said, kneeling next to him.
Ash stared down at me, face pale.
“Gian,” Brett said. “I got him for you.”
“Don’t talk.” I looked around, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t call the cops or an ambulance. I had to get Brett into my truck and drive him to the hospital— but no, the truck was pinned, I could use the van, back it out—
Sirens blared nearby. The cops on their way. “Fuck,” I said.
“Go,” Brett said, taking deep breaths. “The cops will keep me alive.”
“Brett,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“Go,” he said. “Damn it. Run.”
I stood and strode to Ash. She gaped at me, and I grabbed her wrist. I didn’t look back as I started jogging, pulling Ash behind me, then started running straight out. I yanked Ash along and she didn’t fight, like she’d lost the will.
We barely got away. I slipped down a little alley next to a jeweler and dragged Ash against me like we were on some date as a cop car crawled past, probably looking for a guy that matched my description.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
She looked up at me and shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“It’ll be okay.” I held her hips tight. “I got you.”
“They kidnapped me. Brett’s probably dead. What’s going on, Gian?”
“War,” I said then looked out at the street, at the wild frontier of my kingdom, and knew there’d be more blood, gallons of blood splashed across the pavement of this city, all my soldiers, all my people, bleeding their lives away for me.
And I had to stop it. I couldn’t let things get worse. Brett didn’t deserve that, the stupid fucking kid—I never wanted him to get himself killed for me. I was supposed to protect him, and yet he lay bleeding on the pavement, maybe dead, maybe alive, but definitely in police custody.
All because of me.
“Come on,” I whispered, and tugged her down the alley. We came out the other end then walked back to my house.
This time, she didn’t get in the bath. I sat her down on the couch and knelt in front of her.
“I want to end this,” I said. “Will you help me?”
She tugged at her hair. “How?” she asked.
“We’ll go talk to the Don,” I said and took her hands gently into mine. “I have an idea, but you might not like it.”
She stared at me without moving. I knew something heavy hung in the air between us, some decision she didn’t know she had to make. I wanted her, wanted to my baby, wanted this to keep going—I wanted to be a better man for her and for my child.
But I couldn’t force her. It had to be her decision.
“I met with an old friend tonight,” she said softly. “And you know what I realized?”
“What?” I asked.
“My life before this meant nothing,” she said. “It was empty. It was all money and privilege and nothing. I want to stay here with you. I want to have my baby and raise it with you, if you want me to.”
I leaned forward and kissed her gently. “We’ll go see the Don in the morning,” I said. “For now, I need to see if Brett survived and figure out what we can do for him.”
“I’ll be here,” she said, nodding slightly to herself. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I smiled a little then stooped down to kiss her again. “That’s my girl,” I whispered, then headed out back to make some calls.
19
Ash
The Don’s house seemed darker and more foreboding than I remembered.
I should’ve been comfortable walking into a massive mansion. I grew up around money and I knew the way money was supposed to act. I was a well-bred rich girl with all the right connections, the perfect education, a good smile, a proper name—and yet this place scared the hell out of me.
Brett was still alive. I didn’t know what Gian would do if Brett had died, but I had a feeling the war wouldn’t end anytime soon and he’d tear up the streets getting revenge on the Healy family. If Brett died, I didn’t think there’d ever be peace, as the cycle of retribution continued.
I prayed Brett lived for a very, very long time.
Bea, the housekeeper, answered the Don’s door and led us inside back toward the study. “He’s in a good mood today,” she said, talking quietly. “Been back there with his son for the past hour. I think they’re talking about money.”
“They’re always talking about money,” Gian said.
Bea winked at him. “The boys like their toys and their cash, I’ll admit to that.” She laughed to herself. “Would you two like anything?”
“No, thank you,” I said, and Gian shook his head.
“Well then, you holler if you want anything, or if that salty old bastard’s being a jerk to you.” Bea grinned and left after depositing us in front of the Don’s office door.
Gian took my hand before we went inside and came close. I smelled him, musky and salty and warm. I tilted my chin up and kissed his neck.
“Follow my lead,” he said softly. “No matter what, remember that I have your best interests in mind.”
“Should I be worried?” I asked, which was a silly thing to say. I was already trembling with fear and uncertainty.
“You’ll be fine,” he said, and pulled away. I felt like a part of my skin was being peeled from my body. He opened the door and I followed him inside.
Dean sat in a chair in front of his father’s desk smoking a cigar. The smell of it was thick and disgusting. The Don was leaning back in his chair, sipping a whiskey, and both the boys were grinning at each other. As we entered, Dean stood up and shook Gian’s hand.
“Welcome,” the Don said. “I heard you had one hell of an adventure yesterday.” The Don winked at me, and I shivered a little. Calling it an adventure was one hell of an understatement.
“Noting I couldn’t handle,” Gian said.
“I know that boy Brett’s hurt again,” the Don said, clucking his tongue. “Under police protection now, too.”
“He won’t talk,” Gian said with a hint of anger.
; “We know that,” Dean said gently, putting a hand on Gian’s shoulder. “My father wants to send the lawyer over to help him out. And we’ll make sure he gets the best medical care possible.”
Gian relaxed, if only slightly. “I’d appreciate that,” he said.
“Then it’ll be done,” the Don said, nodding at Dean. “How about you go make the arrangements while we talk?”
“Gladly,” Dean said, winked at me, then left the room.
Gian stood rigid in front of the desk. I lingered back toward the door, afraid of the way the Don looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Cigar smoke lingered toward the ceiling and cast strange, swirling shadows over the Don’s face, making his already gaunt cheeks seem more skeleton-like.
“What can I do for you, Gian?” the Don asked.
“I’m here for two things,” Gian said. “First, I want your permission to make this relationship with Ash a long-term thing.”
I blinked rapidly and looked between them. I didn’t realize he needed permission to be with me—but then again, I was an Adamson, and the Don made it clear that my family connections complicated things for him.
“So it’s gone that way, huh?” the Don said, frowning deeply. “I’ll admit that I didn’t expect it. I assumed she would’ve been back with her family within the week.”
“We all did,” I said, trying to smile a little.
The Don barked a laugh. “And you’re getting bolder. I like that in a woman.”
I flushed, but not with embarrassment. The way he looked at me was more than a little creepy.
Gian shifted a little to put himself between me and the Don, which was interesting. He was protective as always.
“She’s pregnant with my child,” Gian said. “That’s not going to change. She wants to leave her family and I want her to come stay with me. I don’t know what’ll happen beyond that, but we’ll figure it out.”
“And I assume you’re asking me to do some damage control,” the Don said.
“I’m mostly asking you to accept this,” Gian said. “I don’t need anything beyond that.”
The Don nodded and sipped his drink. He put the whiskey down and let out a low sigh. “You know, as you get older, drinking becomes easier,” he said. “When you’re young, it’s all get wasted and have fun. Then the hangovers get worse and worse. But now? I don’t mind the hangovers. I don’t need to get drunk, either.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Gian said with a straight face.
The Don laughed and let out a breath. “The girl’s complicated, but if you want her, I won’t stop you.”
I felt a strange flood of relief. I hadn’t expected it—part of me thought I’d run screaming from this room and never look back. And yet hearing that the Don would be okay with me living with Gian felt good in some very strange and fucked-up way.
“Thank you, sir,” Gian said. “And now there’s one more thing.”
“Go ahead,” the Don said, gesturing impatiently.
Gian hesitated and glanced back at me like he wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I saw something harden in his expression, like he’d chosen the difficult path and would follow it no matter what.
“I want a meeting with Colm Healy,” Gian said.
The Don raised an eyebrow and I sucked in a shocked breath. My heart began to patter quickly and I had to take a step back, my hands searching until I found the wall. I leaned against it, steadying myself, trying to understand why Gian would want a meeting with his enemy.
Colm Healy tried to kill us. Maybe it was Stuart bankrolling the operation, but it was Colm’s family that was behind the attacks. They kidnapped me and nearly murdered one of Gian’s soldiers. The idea that he’d meet with Colm seemed crazy, and I couldn’t imagine a situation in which Colm would ever agree.
The Don leaned forward and placed his drink back down on the desk. “That doesn’t sound like you, Gian,” he said softly. “The Capo I know would rather break into Colm’s house and murder him than have a meeting.”
Gian grimaced and glanced back toward me, and I understood what he was doing. It was misguided and for all the wrong reasons, but he was doing it for me, doing this so that we could avoid more attacks and maybe get through this alive.
But not just for me. He was doing it for the baby, too. I had to keep reminding myself that there was more involved than only the two of us. There was our child to think about.
“I’ve been a prideful man, Don Valentino,” Gian said softly, looking at the floor. “I don’t like admitting mistakes. I don’t like walking away from a fight.”
“I’ve noticed,” the Don said. “It makes you a fearsome man.”
“I have more to worry about now than just myself and my soldiers,” Gian said. “I have Ash and our baby.”
The Don nodded slowly. “You think you can make a deal with Colm?”
“I think I can try,” Gian said. “But I’ll warn you, I might make concessions.”
The Don sighed and spread his hands out before him before looking up. He seemed ancient, his skin like papyrus, his eyes rheumy and glazed over with film.
“There are those within the family that will be angry,” the Don said. “There are those that do not wish to see the Healy family get a thing. They fear it would make us look weak.”
“I won’t cut a deal that will do injustice to the family,” Gian said fiercely.
“I believe you,” the Don said. “Which is why I’m granting your request. I’ll arrange for a meeting, and what you do with it will be entirely up to you.”
Gian nodded once, sharply, and glanced at me again. I wanted to tell him not to do it, but I knew he wouldn’t listen.
Headstrong and stubborn. And a gorgeous bastard on top of it all.
“Thank you, Don,” Gian said.
“Do not let me down.” The Don picked up his drink and leaned back in his chair again, waving a hand in dismissal.
Gian turned and left. I followed him, and caught a strange look from the Don before I slipped out the door: his eyes were searching and curious, like he wanted to see what was beneath my skin to understand why I inspired such devotion.
It was obvious, at least to me. Gian loved the baby, even if it hadn’t been born yet.
“That went well,” he said once we were outside and next to the truck.
“I’m afraid the Healys are going to try something,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to do this.”
He took my hand. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “The Healys aren’t so stupid to break a truce just to kill a single Capo. If Colm did that then the Don would rain down the full weight of the Valentino family, the Healys wouldn’t last a week.”
I squeezed his hand then got into the truck and let him drive me back to the city, and hoped that he was right.
20
Gian
Rain pattered the sidewalk as I ambled toward an empty park at ten past midnight. Ash hurried to keep up with me, her hood pulled up to cover her hair. I had nothing on me, no gun, no knife, not even an umbrella. I couldn’t risk Colm mistaking it for a weapon.
Which meant we got fucking soaked, of course. “We couldn’t have picked a dryer spot?” Ash asked me, pressing close to my shoulder.
“Wasn’t my choice,” I said. “It’s what Colm wanted. Somewhere neutral.”
She nodded a little and I saw the uncertainty in her eyes.
I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t want to do this. I was worried, but not for the same reasons. I knew Colm wouldn’t try to hurt us, not tonight, not when he agreed on a truce for this meeting. He wasn’t so stupid as to break his word and make it known throughout the city that Colm was a liar and a murderer.
No, I was worried because I didn’t know what Colm would ask of me, and if he’d grant me what I wanted. If this negotiation didn’t go well, we’d have to double down on the war effort, and more of my guys would end up like Brett.
I didn’t want any more hospital visits, not until Ash gave birth
to our baby.
The park was on the outskirts of the far northeast, the uppermost edge of Philadelphia. It was a quiet residential place, some row homes, some single-family units. The park had a baseball diamond, playground equipment, and toward at the convergence point of all the paved walkways was a large gazebo.
A solitary man sat on a bench smoking a cigar. The smell was pungent and sharp, contrasting with the smell of freshly cut grass and rain-soaked dirt.
Ash stuck close to me as we approached. I couldn’t see any of Colm’s men, but I knew they were around. He’d respect the truce, but he wouldn’t be so stupid as to come alone.
I left my men behind. I didn’t want to risk any of them making a mistake. Stefano fought me on that point and insisted on coming, but I refused to tell him the meeting location and left before he could do anything about it. He was a loyal guy and smart, but I couldn’t risk this, not for anything.
I approached the Gazebo with Ash on my arm. Colm wore khaki slacks, a simple hunter green sweater, and a gray baseball cap pulled down low. He sucked on a dark cigar, so dark it was almost black, the cherry end casting long shadow across his face. He had a long nose and a square jaw, and was a tall man, fit and athletic. He tilted his chin up and squinted at me, and I caught sight of green eyes beneath the brim of his unadorned gray ballcap.
“You showed up,” Colm said.
“You did too.” I stepped beneath the gazebo’s roof. Ash hesitated, but decided she’d rather get out of the rain than keep her distance.
“Sit,” Colm said. “Cigar?”
“No, thank you.” I sat on the bench across from him.
He looked at Ash, head tilted to the side. “So it’s true then,” he said and laughed. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t totally believe it. Daughter of the Adamson family, slumming it with some Valentino Capo, no offense, Gian.”
