by K. A. Ware
“Talking to the Russians?” Carlo asked, and waved me into the room when he caught sight of me hovering in the doorway.
“Oh yeah, Gino Caruso hammered the last nail in his coffin with one call,” Angelo confirmed, a smirk spreading across his face.
I didn’t recognize the name of the man they were speaking about, but from what Angelo had said, he must be the mole Carlo had been trying for months to sniff out.
Carlo nodded. “Good, take Enzo and head down now. I’ll follow in the morning; I have some things to wrap up here first.”
“He’s already packing the car,” Angelo responded, getting up from the chair he’d been lounging in. He stood, smoothed and buttoned his tailored suit jacket, that smirk still firmly in place as he threw me a wink on his way out of the room.
I had to resist the urge to shake my head at him. In the nearly four years since Angelo had joined his brother and cousin to take his place in the family business, he’d proven to be the worst flirt. Age and beauty were of no consequence to him. He could charm the pants off an eighty-year-old grandmother, an ear-to-ear smile on his face the entire time. Definitely the charmer of my boys.
My boys.
I may have never had the opportunity to have children of my own, but over the years I felt as if I’d adopted each one of them. I probably knew them all better than most.
“I need you to stay up here; you good with that?” Carlo asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“I’ve got it under control,” Antonio said, tilting his chin up in acknowledgment.
I found my heart growing heavy as I watched Antonio take orders in that detached way he seemed to operate. I smiled gently at him as he filed out of the room, but instead of an answering smile, I was met with one of those signature head tips.
Out of the four of them, Antonio was the one I worried about the most. He was loyal to Carlo, but there was a darkness in his eyes that I was worried might overtake the light one day. Something about the way he held himself as if nothing affected him concerned me. It was almost as if he refused to feel anything.
“Sorry you had to hear that,” Carlo said, once we were alone.
Turning toward him, I closed the distance between us and reached up to straighten his tie. He always pulled at it when he was stressed, just like his father—although I’d never tell him that.
I clucked my tongue at him. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. I’m glad you found out who was feeding the Russians information; hopefully, now you can relax a little bit. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”
“It’s always something, Elena. If not the Russians, then it would be the Armenians or the Mexicans—the list goes on and on. Alliances are volatile at best in this business.”
I brushed imaginary lint off his shoulders and took a step back so I could get a good look at him. “I’m proud of you, Carlo. You’ve worked hard to rebuild after what your father did to this business. I’ve watched you your entire life. I’ve been there for every skinned knee and milestone, and you’ve become the man I always knew you would be. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Take a moment to enjoy it, will you?”
“I enjoy it,” Carlo said immediately, his shoulders pulling back slightly.
I rolled my eyes. “You do nothing but work and see those girls of yours in the city.” A look of shock had flashed across his face before he had a chance to mask it. “Don’t look so surprised,” I said with a raised eyebrow before leaning in and whispering, “I know everything.”
Carlo tried to suppress it; I could tell by the way his mouth twitched, but eventually he gave up and let out a chuckle.
“Why does that not surprise me?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Because no matter how old or tough you get, to me, you’re always going to be the little boy with the chubby cheeks that ran to me every time he was scared, and I’ll always be here watching over you.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, because I need your protection,” Carlo said, the sarcasm dripping from his words.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew he meant it as a joke, but it didn’t settle well with me. “You have no idea,” I said quietly, instantly causing the mood in the room to shift. It was the truth. He had no idea what I’d done over the years to protect him.
I watched his face turn somber as he stood there staring at me. No words were exchanged though something in his eyes told me maybe he knew more than I’d thought, but the moment was fleeting. Carlo broke eye contact, turning toward the window and clearing his throat.
“I’m going to be gone for at least a week, maybe more while I take care of the issue with Gino. I just wanted to let you know so maybe you could take some time off,” he said turning back toward me, once again completely composed.
“Thank you, Carlo. That was thoughtful of you,” I said, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. As much as he tried to suppress it, Carlo cared about the people around him.
“I just figured since the house will be empty, there would be no reason for you to need to be here.”
“Of course, is that all?”
Carlo grunted and nodded his head before turning back to the window and effectively dismissing me. Sadness weighed on my heart at that moment heavier than ever. No matter how much we’d tried, we weren’t able to save Carlo from himself. His compulsion to mask anything he deemed a weakness, to pretend he didn’t care about anyone or anything, was slowly destroying him. I just hoped that one day he’d find someone that would break down those walls.
Just before I reached the door, Carlo called out.
“Elena?”
“Yes?” I asked, turning to face him once more.
“Thank you,” he said, that mask of control slipping for just a moment while he let his eyes say the rest.
“I love you, too,” I said quietly and left the room. He’d needed to hear it, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle any more than the words.
My headlights flashed across the garage door as I pulled up the driveway. It had taken me longer than I’d expected to get everything arranged at the house for my extended absence. As always, my eyes automatically drifted up to take in the beautiful craftsman style home that I’d purchased three years ago.
I could park in the garage, and most people would, but there was something about walking up the stairs and into my house through the front door that I just couldn’t shake. I’d lived here for a couple of years, and every time I came home, it felt like it did the day I got the keys for the first time. I hoped it would never go away. I never wanted to take my good fortune for granted. I’d worked too hard, sacrificed too much not to appreciate where I was and what I had every day.
Once inside, I walked through the house, flipping on lights as I made my way toward the kitchen at the back of the house. I grinned as I looked around the huge kitchen, with the breakfast nook off to the side, the rest of the kitchen took up the entire back portion of the house. The formal dining room was off the living room, and the back door led to a large screened porch. I loved everything about the house. I’d spent months having it remodeled and restored to its original beauty, painstakingly selected every piece of furniture and appliance.
Every single item, every paint color and trim, every textile, even the scent in the air fresheners were my choice. I didn’t have to consider anyone else’s wants or needs. I didn’t have to compromise, or fall in line—it was mine. Sometimes when I thought of it like that, I felt a tiny bit selfish, but then I’d remember how I felt when Vincenzo controlled every aspect of my life and the guilt melted away into satisfaction.
I’d won.
Setting my things on the counter, I started going about my nightly routine. Shuffling through the mail, I set aside bills that needed to be paid and tossed the junk. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since lunch. I poured myself a glass of wine and stood in front of the open fridge trying to decide what I wanted to make for dinner.
Most single people didn�
�t bother with elaborate meals or cooking at all for that matter, but not me. Just because I was the only one that was going to be eating didn’t mean I should take any less care or effort in what I prepared, I deserved it. I was worth chopping garlic, I was worth the garnish, I was worth the time, I was worth the effort.
I was worthy.
Two more glasses of wine later and dinner was done, the dishes washed, and I was headed upstairs for bed.
Once I was finally ready for bed, I stopped at my dresser where my purse sat. Reaching in, I pulled out the Glock 42 that I kept concealed in a hip holster when I wasn’t driving or at home. I released the magazine, checking that I had a full clip before slamming it into place and pulling the slide to chamber a round. I’d purchased the gun just before I moved into my house; it was the first time I’d be living on my own, and I wanted to feel safe. I’d asked Enzo for advice on what to get since he’d been in the military and he’d been very accommodating.
He’d gone with me to pick it out and spent hours going over how to use it and proper care. He had made me take it completely apart, tell him what every piece was and what it did, and put it together again before he let me shoot it. I was glad for that. The knowledge of how it worked made it less scary. I’d practiced, like Enzo had instructed, for months before I finally felt comfortable carrying the gun on my body. Now it was like an extension of myself; I felt naked if it wasn’t within reach.
Flicking the safety on, I placed the gun on my bedside table before turning off the light and climbing into bed. My bed, covered in my sheets, in my house, paid for by my money. I closed my eyes and let out a breath of contentment; I was no longer scared, no longer helpless, no longer a victim.
I was finally me.
Bloodline
Bloodline
Here’s a sneak peek at Bloodline, the next installment in the DeLuca Family Series, due to be released Fall 2016.
I glanced around watching the scene surrounding me play out. Drunk bastards hollering to each other across the lawn, kids laughing and playing along the side of the house, and even a couple dancing on the porch. These were my people, my friends, my family. The sun was starting to set, the temperature dropped enough to have me heading back into the house for a hoodie.
I made it up the front steps, admiring the happy couple slowly rocking to the beat of the music when something caught my eye over the woman’s shoulder.
A late model SUV was slowly turning the corner to drive past the front of our house, the windows blacked out. Alarm bells went off in my head when I didn’t immediately recognize the vehicle. An unfamiliar car like that in our neighborhood only meant one thing, trouble.
My stomach sank and my heart kicked off. It was as if I were watching a movie in slow motion as the front and back windows simultaneously slid down and the car crept forward. A scream tore through my lungs as I leapt off of the porch and ran for the side of the house where I’d seen the children playing. I’d barely made it the the edge of the planter box beside the steps when the first shot rang out.
Screams echoed in my ears, screams that I would never in all my life forget. People dived for cover, flipping over tables as a litany of bullets rained down. I tried to push forward but someone caught me around the waist and pulled me to the ground. I thrashed at first until I noticed the man pinning me down was Hector, my brother’s best friend.
“Stay down, mija,” he urged as he pulled his piece from the waistband of his pants and stood up.
He was able to squeeze off two rounds before bullets racked his body, blood misting over me. I had to roll on my side to avoid being crushed when he fell in a heap to the ground. My stomach lurched when I locked eyes with Hector’s blank unseeing stare. There was nothing I could do, he was gone.
I crawled to my feet, keeping my head ducked down. The urge to look back and see what was going on pulled at me, but I didn’t stop. My thoughts were of my niece Ava and the last place I’d seen her.
I made it to the side of the house and straightened to a full on run when I saw the pile of small bodies on the ground. Panic seized every molecule in my body as I slid to my knees on the grass. I reached a shaky hand to one of the small crumpled bodies and as soon as I made contact a small voice cried out. Relief rushed through me but it was short lived when I didn’t immediately see her.
“Ava?” I whispered urgently.
“Tia?” she cried out. The fear in her voice was enough to make me want to run back and slaughter those fuckers.
“It’s me, honey,” I said trying to sound reassuring as I roughly hauled her from the bottom of the pile and into my lap. The other children followed huddling close as we leaned on the side of the house between two bushes. The pop pop pop of gunshots finally subsided and I lifted my head from where it had been buried in Ava’s dark hair to see four sets of eyes set in small scared faces staring back at me.
“We tried to protect her,” Javi, Hector’s son, said.
Looking at his sweet face made my throat swell. I knew from the look in his eyes that he was scared of what we would find when we came out of our hiding place. But I knew. I knew this little boy would never see his father alive again, and it shattered my heart.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I tried to ebb the anxiety coursing through my veins. I cleared my throat, knowing he needed my reassurance.
“You did, you all did,” I said trying not to let my eyes rest on their tear stained cheeks too long.
People were yelling and screaming in the front and I heard footsteps crunching on the dry grass as they sped towards us.
“Jorge? Juan?” Diana, their mother, screamed.
I quickly moved Ava from my lap and stood up, not wanting to prolong her worry.
“We’re here, they’re safe,” I called out, and when she saw me her face crumpled. Within seconds she was scooping her boys into her arms and rocking them while she cried. I wanted to give her privacy to hold her children and let the relief wash over her, but there wasn’t time.
“Diana, I need you to take the kids around the back and into the house. Go upstairs to my room and wait for me there. The cops are going to be here any minute, okay?”
She wiped at her face and sniffed a few times before looking up at me and nodding, gratitude welling in her eyes. I nodded once and moved to go back to the front but Ava latched onto my leg.
“Don’t go!” she cried.
“Hey, shh. It’s over now. Go with Diana, I need to check on everyone and then I’ll be right up okay?”
“B-but,” she tried to argue. The sound of sirens in the distance told me the cops were minutes away from swarming and I needed to get out there and find out who survived.
“No buts. I need you to be a big girl and go with Diana. I promise, I’ll be up as soon as I can.”
She must have sensed the urgency in my voice because she screwed up her face and nodded quickly. “Ok-ay,” she hiccupped.
“Good girl,” I said softly, ushering her toward Diana’s outstretched hand.
As soon as I was sure Diana had her and she wasn’t going to follow me, I dashed toward the front of the house and stopped dead in my tracks.
Chaos.
Grief was thick in the air. Several bodies lie motionless in the yard, people screaming and crying over them. I was jerked out of my trance at the sight of Maria rushing down the porch steps with towels in her hands. I forced my feet to follow her, not trusting my voice enough to call out to her. I dodged people huddled on the ground as I followed, not sure where or who she was headed to.
Maria stopped abruptly still a few feet ahead of me and dropped to her knees. Her body was blocking the person that was lying on the ground but I recognized Luis’ shaved and tattooed head over her shoulder.
For the second time in what was probably less than ten minutes, time stopped.
My throat felt dangerously close to sealing itself, my hands twitched as I forced myself to take a step, and then another, and another until I was standing directly over the b
roken and bloody body of my brother. His face was slack, his body unmoving. He looked pale, no color left in him save the bright red blood speckling his skin.
His blood.
I vaguely registered Maria screaming out in agony and Luis trying to comfort her, but I couldn’t will myself to care. Not really. No one could fathom the pain that had coursed through my heart when I saw Santiago, my twin, laying there. But the numbness that followed was worse than any pain I could experience. I felt hollow, a vast emptiness where my heart should be, nothing but oblivion.
Acknowledgments
First off, I need to thank my girl Cora. Without you I’m pretty sure I would have lost my damn mind by now. Thank you for always being there to bounce ideas off of and responding to my texts even though it’s four in the morning your time. #duckflu4life
To my friends and family, thank you for understanding that writing is work and giving me the time I need to follow my dreams. Thank you for bringing me food and Rockstars when I’ve been writing for ten hours straight and haven’t eaten. Thank you for taking care of me, thank you for supporting me, and thank you for encouraging me. I love you all.
Mitzi. The Mitz. Editor extraordinaire. There are no words for the level of gratitude I feel towards you. I don’t know what I did to deserve stumbling across your Facebook page, but thank God I did. You are simply amazing and I sing your praises to everyone that will listen. I trust you with my words and I know you’ll keep them safe while you slay all the unnecessary commas. Thank you for being you.
Risa, I couldn’t forget you. Thank you for proofing like a champ! Oh and BTW congratulations on the wedding!!!
To my betas… Oy! Thank you for your feedback and insight. You guys were amazing, thank you so very much!
