Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1)

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Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1) Page 26

by Amanda Washington


  “I want out, Angel.”

  “Out?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Out of everything.”

  “Okay. I can understand that.”

  “I knew you’d get it. That’s why I had Bruno approach you. This is the chance for both of us. We can get out.”

  I couldn’t get out. I had to find Markie and the twins. Then I needed a doctor who could fix her. Even if I could get out, I’d never trust the Pelinos to make it happen. Besides, there was one more little matter… “You want me to turn on my father?”

  “Some father,” Tech spat. “Manipulative bastard. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about any of us. He deserves whatever he gets.”

  I loved my old man, but I couldn’t exactly argue. “What about the rest of my family? The people you’re helping are hunting down the twins, Tech. They’re just little kids.”

  “I’ve kept their location hidden.”

  Red spots dotted my vision. Tech—my friend and mentor—had known where Markie and the twins were and he’d kept it from me, knowing I was going out of my mind with worry. “Where are they? I swear to God, if you’ve hurt them …”

  He raised his hands. “Calm down, Angel, I haven’t done a damn thing with them. That girl of yours has led them to safety. She’s smart.”

  She led them to safety.

  I wanted to feel relieved, but was having a hard time trusting him. “You expect me to believe you? After you turned on my family?”

  “I didn’t turn on your family, they turned on me.” Gun still in his hand, Tech stood. “Fifteen years, and do you know how many vacations I’ve gotten?”

  I stared at him, shocked. This is about vacations?

  “Zero! You know why? Because I’m not a person to him, Angel. I’m an asset. You’re an asset. We’re all assets… pieces of this game he plays. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

  “I do understand. I just… he’s my father.”

  Tech shook his head. “And so he can be an asshole and still deserves your loyalty? Because of blood?”

  He was pointing a gun at me, so I didn’t answer.

  “Disappointing, Angel.” He steadied the gun. “You should have come with me.”

  There was a finality to his tone that left me no time to think. I lunged forward, ducking low. A shot rang out. My shoulders connected with Tech’s stomach, knocking him back. He fell over his chair, taking me with him. We bounced, and then slid to the cement floor. I grappled for the gun on the way down. Impact relaxed his grasp and the gun slid away. Rather than go for it, I pressed my arm against his neck until he blacked out. Then I stood, retrieved his gun, and called my father.

  “Tech’s dirty,” I said, glaring at my former friend and mentor.

  “Is he dead?” Father asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I need to go find the twins and I don’t have time for this shit. You want him dead? Send someone else to do it,” I growled.

  It was brazen and stupid to speak to my father in such a way, but I was pissed.

  “Did he tell you where the twins are?” Father sounded hopeful, ignoring my outburst.

  “No, and he’s out of commission right now. I have an idea, though.” I grabbed my jacket from the closet.

  “Take Bones,” Father ordered. “Do not go alone.”

  We disconnected, and I called Bones as I exited through the secure doors.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Angel

  TECH’S OFFICE WAS well-hidden beneath a self-storage building toward the north end of Las Vegas. I sneaked out of the warehouse and crept into the shadows of nearby buildings to hide and wait for Bones. Before long, a hunter-green Honda Civic with darkened windows pulled into the neighborhood. It slowed and idled at the corner. I kept Tech’s Glock in my left pocket and pulled out my Desert Eagle. I switched off the safety and watched the car. The driver’s side window rolled down. Bones stuck his head out and looked up and down the road. Relieved, I flipped the safety back on and hurried out to greet my friend.

  “Whose ride is this?” I asked, sliding into the small backseat.

  “My mom’s. We had just stopped by her house when you called and you sounded like you could use a vehicle nobody knows about.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “Good thinking.”

  Ariana turned around, her mouth pressed into a thin line and her eyes red and swollen. “Good. Now that that’s settled, can one of you please tell me where the hell my sister is?”

  “Ari—” Bones reached for her.

  She deflected his hand. “Don’t you touch me. You guys promised to take care of Markie and now she’s missing. I swear to God if one of you doesn’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m calling the cops.”

  “I think she’s at the orphanage,” I blurted out.

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why isn’t she answering her phone, then?” Ariana asked.

  Bones put the car into gear and flipped a u-turn, heading toward the orphanage.

  I sighed, wondering how much I could tell Ariana without dragging her into this mess, too. In all actuality, she was already in it. No need to make things worse, though. “It’s just a hunch.

  The orphanage door was locked, so the three of us took turns banging on it until we pissed someone off enough to open it. A woman I didn’t recognize cracked the door and told us Markie hadn’t been there in days. I’d been so certain, and now I had no clue where to look. I ran a hand through my hair and pulled out my phone to let the old man know I’d failed. Maybe the Pelinos had nabbed Markie and the kids and Tech had lied.

  “Angel. Pst, Angel.”

  Bones and I both had our hands on the guns in our pockets as we spread out and searched for the source of the whispers. Bones nodded toward the bush on the side of the building and we crept over to find Myles crouched down behind it.

  “What are you doing out here?” I asked, releasing my hold on my gun.

  “Waiting for your slow ass. I thought you’d never get here, but Markie made me promise to wait for you.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Before I could say anything, Ariana lunged forward. “You know where Markie is?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I know where she is, but who the hell are you?”

  That helped me find my voice. “Myles, this is Ariana, Markie’s sister. Can you take us to Markie?”

  “Fool, what do you think I’m waiting here for?” he asked. Then he turned and motioned for us to follow him down the side of the building. We crept past the open field to a small storage shed. A broken lock dangled from the hook beside the door. Myles knocked out a little tune, and then opened the door.

  Luciana and Georgio stared up at me with dirty, tear-streaked faces. Recognition widened their eyes and they both lunged at me. Overjoyed to see them, I kneeled down and gathered the little monsters into my arms, squeezing them tightly. Then I let go so I could examine them. Their clothes were torn and filthy, and several small cuts and scrapes covered the exposed area of their arms, but they were alive.

  “Where’s Markie?” I asked.

  The two stepped aside so I could see behind them. Markie was lying on the ground, her skin worrisomely pale.

  “Shh, she’s asleep,” Georgio whispered. “She still has a headache.”

  I could tell by looking at her that she was more than sleeping. My feet felt glued to the floor as I watched her chest, hoping it would rise and fall with a breath.

  She should have heard us. She should have woken up. Why is she so pale?

  “Markie?” Ariana asked. She rushed past us and fell to her knees beside her unconscious sister. “Wake up. It’s time to go home.”

  Markie didn’t even stir.

  Ariana gave Markie’s shoulders a firm shake.

  No response.

  “Get up.” Ariana’s voice cracked. “This isn’t funny, okay?”

  “Is she messin’ with you?” Myles asked.

  Ariana
shook her head. “No. I think something’s wrong. She’s not... she’s not responding.”

  I couldn’t move. All I could do was stand there and watch as my world shattered. I’d found her, but I was too late.

  “Is she breathing?” Bones asked, stepping forward to check.

  Tension and fear mounted. The twins started crying and asking what was going on.

  My mind raced back in time. I saw my father kneeling on the floor holding my mother. He rocked back and forth, stroking her hair. “No. Don’t leave me. I’ll change, I promise. Just don’t go.” An empty pill bottle rolled out of my mother’s hand and across the floor.

  “Breathing. She has a pulse,” Bones announced, pulling me from my stupor. “She’s not dead, Ari. We need to get her to a hospital.”

  Ariana pulled out her phone. “I’m calling for an ambulance.”

  I reached out and grabbed her phone, stopping the call. “No. It’ll come across the police scanner and...” I glanced at the twins. “Just no.”

  Ariana looked like she was going to argue, but she didn’t. I gently lifted Markie, cradling her in my arms as I carried her to the car. We sent Myles back to the orphanage, and then Bones, Ariana, Luciana, Georgio, Markie, and I all piled into Bones’s mom’s tiny Honda and headed for the hospital.

  “Angel, you need to call your father,” Bones said.

  With my arms still wrapped around Markie, I somehow managed to phone the old man and tell him we were taking the twins to the hospital.

  “Will she ever wake up?” Luciana asked, her big, innocent eyes heavy with tears.

  I tried to be strong for my little sister, and for Markie, but I lost it. Tears rolled down my face. I choked up. “I don’t know.”

  We made it to the emergency room where a nurse had me lay Markie on a stretcher. I was vaguely aware of my family surrounding us and taking the twins. Nurses wheeled Markie through the double doors and out of my sight. Not knowing what else to do, I stood there feeling hollow, wondering if I’d ever see her again.

  Bones and Ariana joined me. I don’t know how long we waited there, staring at those damn double doors. People came and went in a blur. After a while, I felt a tug on my shoulder. Nonna wrapped me in a hug, but I couldn’t bring myself to return the gesture. She grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall and into a small private waiting room. Bones and Ariana followed, but Nonna had them wait outside the room.

  Father stood at our entrance. He looked haggard and haunted, and I doubted he’d gotten any more sleep than I had. “Thank you for finding the twins,” he said, embracing me.

  I nodded. “It was Markie. She kept them safe.”

  Father ducked, his expression unreadable. “I’m grateful, and sorry to hear about—”

  “Are you?” I asked.

  He stared at me.

  “This is what you want, right? Her in that hospital bed so you can control me. So you can get me to promise to be just like you. Well here I am, Dad. Fix her, and I’ll sign whatever you force me to.”

  His face contorted, but I didn’t care. I held my ground.

  Nonna slipped between us. “It’s been a rough couple of days, and emotions are heavy right now. We all need to take a step back and think about what we’re saying,” she said, patting my chest.

  I knew exactly what I was saying. My gaze didn’t leave my father’s face.

  Seemingly oblivious to the war going on between me and the old man, Nonna plunged ahead. “Angel, I’ve taken the liberty of looking into a doctor for Markie. Dr. Westfall is a highly recommended neurosurgeon who owes me a favor. It will be risky and expensive, but that young lady rescued my grandchildren. She won’t have to wait for treatment.”

  Father’s scowl shifted to Nonna. “You forget yourself, Mamma.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “Yes, I have forgotten myself. For far too long, but not anymore. You lied to me, Dom.”

  Father sighed. “Mamma, this is not the time.”

  “When will be the time? When all my grandchildren are dead? No. This needs to be discussed now.”

  “Mamma—” There was both warning and frustration in the old man’s voice, but she paid him no mind.

  “My father was a horrible man, Angel. We had to flee our home and come to this country because of the crimes he committed. When I was barely out of school, he married me to a worse man, your Nonno.”

  “Mamma, do not speak ill of the dead.”

  She gave him a blank look before insisting, “I would speak well of them, but there is nothing good to say. You, of all people, should know that, Dom. After what he did to your family. Do you remember your Nonno, Angel?”

  Memories of my grandfather were hazy. He had a predominant Italian nose and always wore a scowl. “Barely.”

  She nodded. “He died when you were young. Your Bisnonno was dead long before you were born. Same with my only brother, Bartolo, and my eldest son, Michael.”

  Father sat and put his head in his hands. Michael was another name our family wasn’t allowed to mention.

  “Your Nonno was ruthless and mean, everything my father had trained him to be,” Nonna sneered. “Your great-uncle Bartolo had already given his life for the family, so my father made my husband a Mariani.” She put a lot of emphasis on the word made. “He trained your Nonno to be abusive and cruel. Mariani men,” she spat. “My poor, sweet Michael, Pace all'anima sua.” She made the sign of the cross.

  “God rest his soul,” Father repeated, and we both mimicked the gesture.

  Before I could ask what had happened to Uncle Michael, Nonna cupped my face in her hands. “When Michael died, your father made me a promise. He swore to me that no more Mariani men would be forced into the lifestyle. He said you would have a choice.”

  Father bolted out of his seat. “I did give him a choice!”

  “You used his girlfriend’s life to blackmail him. That’s hardly a choice.” Nonna eyed him. “And after what happened to Annetta, I’d think that you, of all people—”

  My ears perked up at mention of my mom.

  “Annetta killed herself!” Father shouted. “I screwed up and she found me cleaning up that hit and—” He looked at me and then looked away.

  Nonna shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Oh, Dom, I thought for sure you’d see through it. Annetta loved you. She loved Angel. Yes, she was upset, but suicide? You knew her better than that.”

  His brow furrowed. “But the coroner said—”

  “Your father was very good at what he did. He never got caught cleaning up his hits.” Nonna inclined her head, a secretive glint in her eye. “He did manage to make some powerful enemies, though, and that’s what got him in the end. Why you didn’t have to grow up with that beast, Angel.”

  My father gaped at her. “Mamma, you didn’t?”

  “That wretched man beat on me for years and I put up with it. But then he got Michael killed and took away your happiness. He went too far.”

  Father leaned against the wall, looking very much like he was about to pass out. “You killed him?” he whispered.

  Nonna steepled her hands and smiled at him. “Kill him? Oh no, I’ve never had the stomach for violence. But after what he did to you and Angel, I didn’t exactly cry at his funeral.”

  I gaped at both of them. This was too much to take in. For my father as well. He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he looked up at the ceiling. I couldn’t imagine the magnitude of what he was feeling. Several emotions flickered across his face, but none of them stayed.

  Nonna stood and went to him, grabbing his hand. “It’s this life… this path my father chose, then my husband chose. You were pushed into it, and now that’s what you want to do to Angel.” She shook her head. “This lifestyle… stuffed full of everything money can buy, but it’s hollow. Today you almost lost everything: your wife, your children, your life. Half of your borgata has turned against you. And you want Angel to follow in your footsteps?”

  My father’s gaze landed on me.
His expression softened and he looked back to Nonna. “He’s a Mariani, Mamma.”

  “And you promised to give him a choice. Angel isn’t like you. He needs a normal job where he can die of natural causes when he’s old and ready. I want to see grandchildren who live long enough to grow into men and women, marry, and give me great-grandchildren to spoil.” She held his hand, pleading, tears welling up in her eyes. “Don’t make me bury them.”

  Father rubbed his face. He looked at the ceiling again and then shuffled his feet. I wondered what was going through his mind. Was he really considering it? Would he really let me walk away from the business and live like a crumb with a legitimate job?

  The look Father gave me made me break out in a sweat. “Is that what you want?” he asked.

  I bowed my head, unable to answer.

  “You’d abandon the family? You’d leave us in the middle of this war? I lost Tech today, Angel. I need you.”

  “Why should he have to give up his hopes and dreams to fulfill yours?” Nonna asked. “You are the parent. You sacrifice for him, not the other way around.” She stood inches from him. “You owe it to Annetta—to his dead mother—to give him his own life. A life he would choose.”

  Father tensed. I’d never seen him hit a woman before, but for a second I feared for Nonna. She didn’t seem afraid, though. She reached out and cupped his face, pulling him closer to her. “Give me Angel. Let us go and make a life away from this valley of greed and death. Let the remainder of my days be full of laughter and life.”

  Father’s shoulders drooped. “He is my son,” he whispered.

  Nonna smiled. Tears filled her eyes. Her gaze shifted to me, and then back to my father. “Then let him live his own life, Dom.”

  Her final blow rocked him. He took a step back and looked at me. “Angel, if this is what you want, you may go.”

  Then my father stormed out of the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Angel

 

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