Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1)

by Amanda Washington

  “You know who his dad is?” I asked Bones.

  Bones pulled out his phone and tapped the screen to life. “Nope. But I’m about to find out.”

  “Good.” I wasn’t a violent person, but I’d gladly make an exception for a father who knowingly put his kid in danger just to look cool.

  Not long after our encounter with Batman and Spiderman, the twins got their fill of the carnival. It was a little after seven, so we stopped by enough churches to fill their sacks with enough candy to keep them jacked up on sugar until next Halloween before carrying the exhausted duo to the door.

  “You’re the best brother ever,” Luciana told me, kissing my cheek. Then she leaned over to hug Bones around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You too, Bones. Thank you guys.”

  Bones put Georgio down and gave him a manly fist bump, like he hadn’t just given him a piggy-back ride to the door.

  “Who wouldn’t want to take Princess Luci and the great Genghis Kahn Georgie around for a night?” Bones asked. He bowed and added, “It was an honor, your Highness.”

  We released them into Father’s care and bowed again, several times, making them laugh as we walked away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Angel

  FOR MY HIGH school graduation, Father gave me the key to a two-bedroom condo located in a high rise just off the strip. He owned the building and controlled the security, but having my own space at least gave the illusion of freedom. While my high school friends escaped their families and headed to college, Father granted me independence he could control, and surrounded me with people he could trust.

  The condo was a beautiful prison, complete with earthy tones of bamboo flooring, granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, custom leather furniture, and bold crimson curtains framing floor-to-ceiling windows with a view facing the lights of the strip. Every inch of the space was designed and furnished to remind me of my position as heir, in line to reign over the city through blood and luxury.

  As I entered the condo, I dropped my keys in a dish on the console table and turned to face Bones, still engaged in our argument. “Listen, you thrill-seeking maniac, I think the cops will be able to tell these aren’t fake.” I tugged at my Kevlar vest. “I see ‘impersonating an officer’ charges all over this one.”

  “It’s Halloween, the one night you can get away with impersonating anyone,” Bones replied.

  “But what if they start asking pesky little questions like where did we get them? What are we doing with them?”

  Bones shrugged. “They fell off a truck.”

  “Right.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Ask a wiseguy a question and get a wise-ass answer.

  “Angel, you play responsible big brother to half the city. For one night, I’d like to see you relax and let loose. Do something crazy and enjoy yourself.”

  I inwardly groaned, wanting to stay as far from crazy as humanly possible. But Bones was my friend, and sometimes friendship required stupidity. “Fine, but if I go clubbing with you in a SWAT uniform, my crazy-card is filled for the next five years.”

  “Five years?” Bones snorted. “For dressing up on Halloween? This buys you maybe one month. Just wait until you see what I have planned for Christmas. You’ll want in. You’ll reconsider.”

  That sounded ominous. I had to find a way to get past Christmas. “One year.”

  Bones cocked his head. “I can’t believe you’re negotiating away your fun.” Then because he could never resist a good gamble, he added, “Two months. Come on, Angel. The chicks are gonna dig this.”

  I was more concerned about a real SWAT team taking offense to us terrorizing the nightclubs with cans of silly string and squirt guns. And Father would kill me if I ended up in jail tonight or on Christmas. “Six months. I go clubbing with you tonight and I don’t have to do anything else stupid until at least April.”

  He gave me a hard stare, and then split the difference. “Four months, and that’s my final offer. You’ll miss Christmas, but we’ll have Valentine’s Day, and I got a real plan for getting the honeys this year.”

  Resigned to possible jail time over a stupid Halloween costume and fearing whatever the hell Bones had in store for February, I scooped up my keys and followed my friend out into the cool, autumn night. Bones picked the club, and I drove. As we approached, he pointed to a line of costume-clad club jumpers that stretched halfway down the block.

  “Looks packed,” I said. “We should probably call it a night and head home.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I got this.” Bones pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. “Just park.”

  I reluctantly handed over the Hummer to the valet and followed Bones to a side door. He sent a text, and moments later the door swung open, pouring loud, thumping music into the street.

  A thin, short woman wearing skin-tight black fabric that barely covered her bust and butt struggled under the weight of the door. Black velvet ears clung to her head and whiskers streaked across her cheeks. Her eyes rounded at our costumes for a beat before her face lit up with recognition and she squealed in delight. “Bones! You crazy bastard, you scared the shit out of me!”

  Then she looked me over and added, “Why, hello there. You must be Angel. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Trixie.”

  Any chance of blessed moments of anonymity went up in a poof. I glared at Bones, wondering just what he’d blabbed to the girl.

  Bones shrugged. “What? Did you wanna wait in that line all night?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry, handsome, your secret is safe with me,” Trixie said. She led us to a booth and we both ordered water.

  “That’s it?” Trixie asked, clearly disappointed.

  “For now,” Bones replied with a wink. “We usually don’t turn up until after midnight. We just woke up a couple hours ago.”

  “Oh, I see,” she smiled, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “Night people.”

  When she walked away I kicked Bones under the table. “What the hell are we, vampires? And since when do we ‘turn up’?”

  “Hey, gotta live up to the image. People expect certain behaviors from you.”

  I couldn’t even live up to my father’s expectations. If I had to start jumping through hoops for the rest of the world, I was screwed. “Think she’ll be disappointed when we don’t get smashed and thrash the place like rock stars?” I asked.

  Bones chuckled. “She’ll get over it. What’s up with them?”

  I followed Bones’s gaze to find three suits sitting at the bar, two with their heads together and the third watching the bar crowd. The three stuck out in a room full of costumed crazies. “One of the families. Who knows what they’re up to?”

  “The bartender doesn’t look too happy with them,” Bones said, ever observant.

  I found the bartender in question just in time to watch him set drinks in front of the suits. They didn’t offer payment, and he didn’t quite hide his scowl before he turned away. One of the suits said something, but the bartender put up his hands and softened his expression. Wasn’t my business though, so I shrugged and scanned the rest of the club. Drinks in hand, costumed professionals, tourists, college students, and entertainers bounced, grinded, and swayed, on and off the dance floor. A handful of working girls wove through the crowd, seeking out the lonely and trying to make a buck. A fight between a skeleton and a hippie broke out by the side door, but bouncers swooped in and carried off the offenders before it got out of hand.

  Trixie returned with our waters, asking if we needed anything else. Bones ordered me a glass of wine.

  “You need to relax,” he said as Trixie walked away.

  I leveled a stare at him. “If I was any more chill, I’d freeze our drinks.”

  He chuckled. “So that’s where the frost is coming from, huh?”

  I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

  Bones grinned. “There. That’s better. Now check out those girls on the dance floor. The ones wearing the belly dancer costumes. You should go up
and say hi.”

  “Sure. I’m just gonna walk up and strike a conversation with a girl wearing gauze. Maybe I’ll tell her how pretty her brain looks.”

  “And that’s your problem. I’m not telling you to meet her parents. I’m telling you to have a good time and enjoy the night. Nothing more.”

  “Right.” I took a sip of water. “Bones, if I need to get laid, I’ll call Terrance and have him send a girl over.”

  “I never understood that. Why would D’Angelo Ma… why would you pay for sex?”

  I shrugged, ignoring his near slip. “Simpler that way. No chance of someone screwing around and catching a feeling.”

  “No chance that someone has to meet the fam,” Bones replied.

  I tilted my head to the side. “See? Simpler and safer.”

  Trixie reappeared long enough to pour me a glass of wine. I swirled it around and took a sip, and for some reason the strange girl from the pizzeria slipped into my mind. Markie. I tried to imagine her on my arm, meeting my family, but couldn’t even fathom it. They’d rip her apart and hang the pieces by her sundress.

  “That was almost a year ago. You need to put it behind you,” Bones said.

  Wondering what the hell he was talking about, I replayed our conversation in my head. Leilani. Right. My old on and off again girlfriend would forever direct my future relationships. Leilani was exotic: dark, sleek hair, flawless caramel skin, legs that went on for miles, blue eyes that contrasted with the rest of her appearance. She saw me coming from a mile away and sank her perfectly manicured nails into me, refusing to let go. I knew she was like the others, and understood what she was after, but I was tired of being alone. She danced, and often got a little too friendly with her clientele. I begged her to quit, and in return, she tried to negotiate a ring out of me.

  Our Christmas gift exchange was awkward, to say the least. In hindsight, giving her a small jewelry box in a nice restaurant was probably misleading. But since I’d never even invited her to meet my family, I didn’t think she’d read so much into it. When she opened that box and saw earrings she threw a public tantrum, aided by the rum and diet soda she’d been guzzling throughout dinner. She started swearing, and I turned to walk away. She attacked me, and I blocked. Bones grabbed her and tried to get her under control. Leilani kicked and screamed about how I used her and tried to control her. People crowded around, watching the spectacle of our crumbling relationship. Hotel security detained Leilani and helped us slip away, but word got back to my father. He, Uncle Carlo, and Cousin Alberto were waiting in my apartment when Bones and I got home that night. Father made a quick call, and then we all sat down and played poker. We didn’t talk about Leilani, or the incident, but we didn’t have to. The old man would never stand for such an open show of disrespect to our family, no matter who it came from. I knew his presence there meant he was my alibi, and I was his.

  A few days later Leilani’s roommate reported her missing. Cops questioned me, but I told them the truth. I didn’t know what had happened to Leilani. The police had to know my family was in on it, but my building’s doorman and surveillance videos kept us above reproach. Leilani never surfaced, and I learned my lesson and stayed the hell away from the dating scene. Just thinking about it now made me cringe.

  “I’m good for now. Maybe I’ll talk to the belly dancers later.”

  Thankfully, Bones didn’t press the issue.

  A tall dark-skinned man paused beside our table and bid us a good evening. He wore a tight smile, a tailored suit, and what was left of the hair on his head had the appearance of running away from his face. “I’m Greg Pines, the manager here, and I wanted to stop by and personally welcome you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pines,” I replied, keeping the conversation polite but professional and wondering what the hell he wanted from me. “The service has been prompt. Your people are very attentive.”

  “Happy to hear it. Thank you.” He pulled a six-by-two-inch gray box out of his inside pocket and offered it to me. “Please accept this gift as a token of our appreciation of the family, and all you do for the city.”

  Bones took the box and angled it away from me as he opened it. Then, he placed it on the table so I could see the contents. A beautiful hand-carved pocket knife was tucked into a dark velvet liner. According to the knife’s label, the blade was forged of Damascus steel and the dragon-carved handle was fashioned from twenty-four-karat gold and platinum. It was more than a gift. It was a business offering.

  “My father will be pleased,” I said, snapping the box closed.

  Mr. Pines smiled and tilted his head. “If you need anything at all, please let me know. My card with my personal cell number is under the knife.”

  “Noted,” I replied, careful not to commit to anything.

  Mr. Pines thanked me for my time and left. I kicked Bones under the table and glared at him.

  “What?” Bones asked, rubbing his knee. “I can’t help it if people love you.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. They love me. Now my brain is beautiful.” I shook my head, disgusted and ready to go.

  All of a sudden Bones stood up, knocking his chair back. “That lying asshole!” he said, glaring at the dance floor.

  I tried to see who he was looking at, but the place was packed. “Which one?” I asked.

  “Matt Deter. That guy right there. The one wearing the giant condom wrapper. That bastard owes me three g’s. I called him yesterday and he was whining that his mom was in the hospital and he needed to go take care of her. Looks like I need to send him to the hospital.”

  Bones jumped over the railing “Matt! Hey, Matt!” he shouted.

  Matt turned toward us, and his eyes bulged when he spotted Bones. His lips formed a couple of obscenities, and then he turned away and wove through the crowd. I grabbed Mr. Pines’s gift for my father and ran around the railing in time to follow Bones toward the side door. It opened and Matt slipped out. We followed him out the door and searched the street. Matt was gone.

  Bones swore. “I was lenient and he took advantage of me. I can’t wait to catch up with him and rectify the situation.”

  To be honest, I was glad Matt had gotten away. Bones was my best friend and my constant protector, but when he fought, it scared the hell out of me. He went into some sort of crazed rage that usually ended in me trying to pull him off some unconscious victim before he killed the guy. Not exactly what I wanted to do with my evening.

  “Well, looks like he got away.” I shrugged. “What do you want to do now?”

  “I know where he lives,” Bones said.

  Shit!

  Hoping Matt wasn’t stupid enough to go home, I retrieved the Hummer and followed Bones’s directions to a run-down apartment building off West Bonanza Road. We parked the car and crept up to apartment one-fourteen.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked after Bones knocked.

  In answer, he knocked again, harder this time.

  The door swung open.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the person who answered.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Markie

  AFTER LUNCH WITH the nice guys at the pizzeria, I took a cab to my sister’s last known address. Ariana had sent me pictures of the place, but the photos didn’t do it justice. In person it looked more like a high-end resort than an apartment complex. As I walked past the landscaped common area and swimming pool toward the manager’s office, I wondered how much the rent was. No doubt way more than I could pay.

  It took a while to convince the apartment manager I wasn’t a stalker or a bounty hunter, and was legitimately worried about my sister, but he finally gave me her forwarding address. This time the cabbie deposited me in front of a dilapidated building without landscaping or swimming pools. The manager had never heard of Ariana Davis, and since I wasn’t interested in renting an apartment, she promptly showed me to the door and went back to her soap opera. Disheartened and unsure of what to do, I wheeled my luggage to the curb and sat down besi
de the apartment mailbox.

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled through our correspondence, searching for clues of where she could be. She’d mentioned a waitressing job, but didn’t specify the name of the restaurant. I googled Las Vegas restaurants and the number of them was somewhere north of infinity. But with nothing better to do, I started making calls. The sun set and costumed adults and children emerged from apartments, trick-or-treat bags in hand.

  Halloween. Great.

  As if it wasn’t going to be difficult enough to find Ariana without masks and wigs. Feeling frustrated and a little overwhelmed but unwilling to give up, I dialed restaurant number twenty-three on the list.

  Then, my sister almost walked over me. Life is sometimes funny that way. The people you’re looking for sometimes pop up and mow you over.

  “What the hell?” Ariana said. It took an impressive acrobatic act to keep both her phone and her body from hitting the ground. “Why would someone sit right in front of the mailbox?”

  Her attention was still on her phone.

  “Probably the same reason someone would try to text and walk at the same time,” I replied.

  She froze midstep. We locked gazes, and her heavily-lined eyes grew round.

  I stood abruptly, knocking my suitcase over. “Ari.”

  She blinked.

  Shock and awe wasn’t quite the reception I’d been going for. But that didn’t matter. My little sister was alive and well. Relief washed over me, stripping away weeks of worry and stress. Frustration and anger crept in as I stared at her phone. If she wasn’t dead, why the heck hadn’t she returned my calls or texts? She knew I was worried out of my mind. I’d texted her that exact statement at least six times. Why wouldn’t she put my mind at ease? Why wouldn’t she save me the plane ticket? Before I could decide whether to hug her or yell at her, she awoke from her stupor and wrapped her skinny arms around me.

  “Markie!” she cried, squeezing.