A Very Mafia Christmas

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Shit.” I choked out a curse. “You realize I have internal bleeding right?”

  She elbowed me again.

  “Someone’s feeling better.”

  And then the damn woman started rubbing her ass against me. I let out a groan and closed my eyes. Dead. I was dead.

  Dying.

  “Mil?” I clenched my teeth together. “Tease me one more time like that and your ass,” I dug my fingers into her flesh, “Is mine, got it?”

  “Yup.” She stopped moving and yawned.

  And then reached her hand behind her back and flicked open my jeans.

  I was too afraid she’d stop if I moved.

  I was already breathing heavy.

  So was she.

  “Remember, Chase, gotta be quiet.” Her hand was hovering, I could feel the heat of her palm, but she wasn’t touching me yet.

  “Sure, yes, anything you say.”

  And then I was on my back.

  Her shirt went flying.

  “What changed your mind?” I asked already tossing her bra onto the lamp, while she tugged down my jeans.

  “I just remembered something.” She shrugged a shoulder.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “You’re Chase Abandonato.”

  “That I am,” I grinned, “Sex expert and best damn cook this side of Chicago.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And as long as I have you — as long as we’re a team, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Twins.” I blurted, immediately regretting the look of horror on her face.

  “You take that back right now!” She twisted my nipple.

  “HELL!” I bucked off the bed. “What sick kind of foreplay is this?”

  She bent her head and licked where she’d twisted, “All better?”

  “Lower.” I said smugly.

  She licked lower and lower. “Better?”

  “You’re getting hotter.” I put my hands behind my head and gave her a cocky grin. “Maybe, just three more inches.”

  She went one.

  “Mil.” I growled.

  “Chase?” She arched a brow and then wrapped her mouth around me.

  Yeah we were going to be just fine…

  She stopped.

  I blinked up at her, “Baby?”

  “Merry Christmas.” She fused her mouth to mine and I forgot all about her fears and made sure she would too.

  Tex

  THERE WAS STILL blood in the kitchen where we’d all fought. I winced and tried to take a deep breath — Dante had done a serious number on me, and while I was proud of him for finding those balls and tossing them into the fighting ring — I was pissed that he’d chosen a sneak attack — one I’d literally just shown him yesterday, the sick little prick.

  I reached into the freezer for another ice pack and held it to my right cheek, the door slammed closed.

  Dante stood right behind it. “How’s your face? Lose any teeth?”

  “Nope.” I grinned, “Still a handsome devil, not that you’d notice since you spend more time in the mirror than all of us combined. Don’t shit yourself, but I think a hair’s out of place,” I reached up to flick his ear, he shoved my hand away.

  I liked using his good looks against him — God knows he needed to be brought down a peg or two, especially if my own wife nearly had to sew her jaw back on after seeing him for the first time.

  I’m pretty sure that the guys and I enjoyed adding bruises to the guy's mug just so our wives stopped staring like they’d never seen a good-looking guy before.

  “Hey Tex?” Dante moved closer, until we were nearly chest to chest, I still had a few inches on him but the guy had the muscles of a boxer, damn him. “Serious question…”

  I let out a grunt. “Serious questions call for serious answers, misguided grasshopper: what you wanna know?”

  “How many lives have you taken?”

  I snorted. “You really don’t want to know the answer to that, it’s Christmas, go eat some more cookies and think about Santa Claus.”

  I tried to walk past him, he blocked me with his bulky arm. I didn’t want to remember that he was only a few years younger than Nixon, I didn’t want to remember that I was putting another man in the fight. I looked at him, and I knew sure as the sun was going to set — I was giving him a death sentence.

  Sure, he’d been born into it.

  But he still had a choice.

  None of us did.

  He could go back into hiding.

  But he refused to do it now that Val was out.

  “You can still choose the easy life, you know.” I licked my blood caked lips. “Leave this all behind.”

  “Abandon my sister and my dead father.” He said in a rage filled voice. “I think I’ll pass, but good to know how little you think of me.”

  He shoved past me. Or at least tried to. I grabbed him by the arm and shoved him against the wall. “Listen here you little shit, sometimes walking away makes you the better man. Not weaker. Stronger.”

  “Maybe that’s why I’ll always be weak.” His eyes locked onto mine. Damn, it was like Luca was looking back at me, all his anger and cool indifference mixed with just enough insanity to make a man feel the need to back the hell off. “Because where family goes I go.”

  It was the first sane thing I’d heard him utter since he came to Chicago.

  It told me more than I wanted to know.

  That he’d either die too soon.

  Or out live all of us and dance on our graves.

  “The answer is a lot.” I whispered hoarsely. “I killed my own blood — my own father, multiple bullet wounds to the chest and I’d do it again in a heartbeat to protect what’s mine. I don’t care what kind of packaging you wrap up the Family in — we’re all killers, we will always be killers, but I will always justify that killing because it keeps people that I love safe. I would kill you, if I knew it would keep them safe just like I know sure as I’m standing here, that you’d stab me in the chest and risk the five Families coming after you — to protect your sister. And one day, you’re going to feel that way about a girl, one day you’re going to want to give her the world only to realize, you will never be good enough to give it. I hope to God I’m alive to see you fall to your knees in agony over the fact that money, guns, your fists can only control so much — but your heart will always be your weakness, but if we don’t have that — we’re just cold blooded. It’s what saves us. So, I may have a lot of kills, I may not think twice about it — but I have a family — I have my heart — the difference between you and me? You want revenge — I want peace.” I pulled away, noticing his stunned expression, and nodded to the Christmas cookies on the counter. “Go feed her some more cookies, she’s starving.”

  With that I walked off in search of Mo to calm me down.

  I didn’t have to look far.

  She was waiting right outside the kitchen a smile spread across her gorgeous as hell face. “Good talk?”

  “The guys a cold, angry, calculating bastard that’s going to get himself killed if he doesn’t watch it.”

  “So don’t send him out until he’s ready.”

  “Oh I’d cheerfully hand him over to the Russians — I meant me.”

  Mo rolled her eyes. “You like him, admit it.”

  “I want to like him — I don’t trust him, big difference.”

  “Why?”

  “Can we not talk about him right now?” I pleaded pulling her into my arms, “It is Christmas, and I got a present for you.”

  Mo sighed, “The wreath wasn’t funny.”

  “It was hilarious and you know it.”

  “A wreath for your penis is never funny.”

  “The guys laughed.”

  “Because you slept on the couch.” She pointed out.

  “Fine,” I grinned, “But that’s not what I got you.”

  “Oh?”

  I pressed a finger to her lips then pulled her into the living room, once we reached the Chris
tmas tree, I grabbed a blue bag from underneath and handed it to her.

  “Tiffany’s.” Her eyes lit up. “But you don’t even know what earrings are?”

  “Bullshit they’re the things you put in your ears and,” I glared, “Do you want your present or not?”

  “Want.” She licked her lips, tempting me beyond all reason. I stole a kiss, then another, devouring her pretty mouth before I handed her the bag.

  Nixon and Trace stopped talking and made their way over. Even Dante was watching the spectacle. Everyone was there except Chase and Mil, big shock. If there was a bed, chances are, they were in it.

  She pulled out the small ring box and gasped. “What, what is this?”

  “I never really got you the ring I wanted to.” I shrugged. “And I figured it was about time, open.”

  With trembling hands she opened the box, eyes huge, she pulled out the four karat ring and slid it on her finger. “This is huge this isn’t necessary it’s not it’s—” Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t even like jewelry!”

  “Wait for it,” I winked and then slid the band around her finger, she hadn’t noticed yet, but it was in the shape of a gun. “Blood in, no out.” I gripped her hand in mine. “I love you.”

  “Blood in. No out.” She kissed me hard on the mouth.

  When I pulled back for a breath, I announced. “I think I just won Christmas.”

  Nixon flipped me off and Phoenix looked ready to shoot my head off.

  Sometimes being the capo had its benefits.

  They couldn’t kill me, they had to live with me, plus I was married to Nixon’s sister. I grinned bigger. “You really like it?”

  “I love it.” She jumped into my arms, wrapped her long legs around me and kissed me so hard I stumbled backward against one of the book cases.

  “Keep doing that and I’ll shoot you in the leg, Tex.” Nixon said in a lethal voice. “Find a room so I can imagine you’re playing Hide and go Seek or something.”

  “You wanna hide baby,” I winked, trailing kisses down her neck. “Or seek?”

  “That’s it.” Nixon lunged for us but was intercepted by Phoenix who shoved him back against the wall.

  “Let it go, man, they’re married.”

  “He just licked her!” Nixon roared.

  “And you don’t lick Trace?” Phoenix countered.

  “That is completely—”

  “Oh he does way more than that.” Trace said innocently, “In fact, I think since Serena’s sleeping—” She tugged Nixon away from the group and suddenly he was running, then picking up Trace and tossing her over his shoulder.

  “Problem solved.” I kissed Mo again, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Very Merry.”

  Frank

  BONES CREAKED IN my hip as I walked through the living room, bypassing the tree where Dante seemed to be making progress with Ella. God knows the boy needed a distraction other than darkness — killing — fighting. My sigh was heavy, my heart heavier, it always was this time of year.

  I missed Luca more than I could bear.

  And seeing him staring back at me, through Dante’s eyes, oh it reminded me of things, things I’d long forgotten about my brother, my enemy, my friend.

  And in the end.

  Our savior.

  Emotion was a fickle little creature, constantly trying to reach its pesky tentacles into my chest cavity — grabbing ahold of my heart and giving it a little squeeze. But the joke was on it — my heart had not been my own for quite some time.

  It was buried.

  In the ground.

  With a dead wife.

  And a dead brother.

  She loved us both.

  And I often wondered, if that was how our life was meant to be, shared… with each of us taking a small piece of Joyce’s heart and selfishly keeping it as close as humanly possible. Maybe, life, is about grasping the small moments of happiness you’re given, and squeezing tight.

  I wiped at the treacherous tear that ran down the side of my face and made my way outside. The chilly Chicago air always did a number on my lungs. I took deep, even breaths and let the memories wash over me.

  “You will always love him.” I said. It was the Christmas right after she’d spent the time with him on the ranch. She was sad. I always knew when she was sad, she would get this empty look in her eyes and then she’d touch her hand to her chest, so brief that many wouldn’t even notice anything was different. But I always knew. It was heartache. Plain and simple.

  “I think,” Her voice broke. “That I would miss you too.” She frowned, like she was trying to understand her own feelings. “Sometimes, I think I’m cursed to have a soul mate — and my best friend — at the same time.”

  “Oh Joyce,” I pulled her into my arms. “I wish I could take that pain away. I wish for so many things — a time machine being at the top of that list.”

  She looked up at me with her swollen lips and easy smile. “A time machine wouldn’t fix this, Frank.”

  “No?” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice. “I would have pushed you into his arms, and never looked back. I would have sent you away. I would have told the Nicolasi family to go to hell, and you’d be happy, with Luca by your side.”

  “Foolish man.” She gripped me by the collar of my shirt. “What makes you believe I could ever be happy without you too?”

  “How very selfish of you.” My voice cracked, that pesky emotion called love snaked around my heart, grabbing hold, refusing to let go. “To want both brothers.”

  “That, I do blame you for.” She shuddered. “I thought he was dead, so I clung to you with everything I had.”

  “My fault.” I sighed. “Again.”

  “And now that he’s alive… and,” Her hand dropped to her stomach. Unease washed through me. “I don’t think I could let go of either of you. If you made me choose, I’d hate you forever.”

  “Joyce,” I tipped her chin toward me. “You forget one thing…”

  “What?” She frowned.

  “Luca holds your heart.”

  She nodded.

  “I own your soul.”

  She burst into tears and wrapped her arms around me just as fresh snow started to fall from the sky.

  “And nothing — on this earth, will change the fact that you have two very powerful men who would move heaven in order to make you happy.”

  She pressed her face harder against my chest. “This makes me a selfish woman.”

  I hugged her tight. “Or possibly, just human.”

  She lifted her face to mine and then gripped me by the back of the neck and kissed me. It was the first kiss we’d shared since her return from Luca.

  The first kiss I tasted.

  Where I didn’t imagine her with my brother.

  The first kiss of many more kisses where I knew, one day, one day we’d be happier then we were in that moment.

  When she broke away, I kept her close. “Promise me something.”

  “What?” Tears filled her eyes.

  “Don’t keep trying to choose. There will never be a winner in this situation… instead…” I kissed her cheek. “Love us both with everything you have… with your body, mind, soul… if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this Family — the darkness will always fall — but love — conquers all.”

  Her eyes widened.

  And then she shook her head.

  And laughed.

  I loved her laugh.

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “No, Frank,” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed my neck. “It’s just funny… you wonder why I would never choose, and then you say things like that and still wonder.”

  “I’m a man of few words.”

  “And yet, every single one that comes from your mouth makes me fall a little bit harder.”

  The snow picked up.

  She shivered.

  We walked back inside, holding hands.

  The Christmas tree was in the living room, presents littere
d beneath it, you would almost think we were a normal family.

  Not the most powerful family in the Cosa Nostra.

  “Promise me something.” She whispered. “No matter what the cost… you always celebrate Christmas like this. With a giant tree. Gifts. Laughter. Don’t let our kids, our grandkids, know violence on Christmas.”

  “I swear.”

  “Thank you.” She walked off and I stared at the tree, a sense of complete helplessness filled me until it hurt to breathe.

  She would not be long for this earth.

  And I had no idea why I knew that.

  Which is why it was important to love her.

  To let her love Luca.

  To know that however messed up our situation was — love — was what mattered.

  In the end — it’s the only thing that survived even death.

  “Merry Christmas, Joyce.” I whispered before walking back into the house. Laughter filled it to the gills.

  Phoenix was even smiling.

  I looked around to each of my men, sons, grandsons, granddaughters.

  And when I glanced at the tree I could have sworn I saw Joyce’s face, as she whispered. “You did good.”

  Phoenix

  HAPPINESS WAS HARD.

  Not because I didn’t want it.

  I clung to it with every fiber of my being.

  But the Holidays represented so much darkness from my past — my father’s way of celebrating had more to do with sex fueled orgies, money, and drugs.

  My mother turned a blind eye.

  And I was in charge of playing the part… always playing a part for him, whether it be to ruin the girls, or to make sure none of them escaped.

  One Christmas, a girl hung herself with her scarf.

  My dad laughed.

  So, you can imagine that Christmas didn’t really bring up fond memories of drinking hot chocolate by the fire and singing carols, if anything I wanted to forget it even existed and move on to the New Year.

  And then Bee happened.

  And my infant son.

  And suddenly, I woke up wanting to buy every damn Christmas tree in Chicago. Days later I found myself scaling the roof to put up lights that my son wouldn’t even see let alone care about.

  And rather than shipping guns to the house — I was meeting the UPS guy at the door signing for every single toy Amazon sold. Effing Amazon Prime owned my wallet these days.