Reckless & Ruined

by Bethany-Kris

  Riley would make a damn good boss.

  Any man in the room would be damn stupid not to see it.

  Leaning over the table, Riley smacked his index finger to the wood grain. “And before you go running off at the mouth about how loyal many of these men are to you and only you, Joel, let me correct your very misunderstood and wrongly fed assumptions. There is not one man in this room who has looked at you and wondered what you will gain him. They are not looking at you because they believe you can and will lead them properly, but because you are weak enough for them to manipulate exactly how they see fit for their own needs.

  “And eventually, whether the men want to admit it or not, they’re aware of what chasing after you will do to them,” Riley continued, his face blank and unreadable. “They will chase themselves straight down a fucking rabbit hole right along with you, my boy. Manipulating you will only get them so far and when you’re nothing more than a shell of what they’ve molded and created for their purposes; then they’re left with nothing more than a hopeless, incompetent boss unable to hold his own gun or shoot his own bullets. What will they do with you then, Joel? Tell me.”

  Joel stood from his chair fast enough to send it flying backward and clattering to the floor. His rage spilled over like it usually did when Joel didn’t like what he was being told. Clenching his fists at his sides, Joel’s entire body shook.

  Adriano had seen this very thing happen one too many times where Joel was concerned.

  He wasn’t even surprised.

  Shooting his own foot.

  “Careful, Joel,” Riley warned quietly. “Your incompetence is showing. If you can’t handle one little sit-down with a man who hasn’t even raised his voice to you, how do you think you’ll fair sitting at the Commission against men like Dante Marcello or Maximo Sorrento. Do you think either of those bosses will bow to your hissy fits simply because you stomp your foot and demand it as so?”

  Riley barked out a laugh, “Think again. They would have you buried in a makeshift grave before you even realized you were dead, boy. Men like them have little use for children in business. And that, Joel, is all you are.”

  Even Adriano had to check his father at that. Riley Conti had just gone from fighting for a boss’s seat to essentially stripping Joel of any pride and respect he might have had with nothing but words.

  “You cocksucker,” Joel hissed, his face reddening.

  “Ouch.” Riley flashed a wicked smile. “Try again, Joel. That’s nothing I haven’t already heard before.”

  Joel scoffed. “Something else? How about a little truth slinging for your side, too? I think your words are the one and only thing you have to show in this room, Riley. How terrible and awful it must have been for you to lose your wife—you’re certainly moving on quickly enough, though, aren’t you?”

  Riley’s jaw ticked. “Do not walk that line, Joel.”

  “I think I should. Someone should,” Joel spat back. “You seem to have a great deal of information about my dealings and allies in this, so why don’t we talk about what I know regarding you, Riley? I hear you like them young. Courtney is her name, isn’t it?”

  Adriano’s back stiffened like someone had shoved a steel rod up his spine. Still, he gritted his teeth and stayed quiet. All the eyes in the room had turned on his father.

  Riley shrugged, unaffected. “Do you think I’m the only man here with a piece of ass on the side? Think again. I could ask you about Chloe and her father, but I’m sure Ronnie is like the rest of them. No doubt, he’s pimping his daughter out to you in hopes of moving higher. Once you have your fill, both he and she will be left behind.”

  “I’m sure your wife would have loved to know she was just another whore that had been given a little more than the rest, Riley,” Joel said, sneering. “Caught your last name, birthed you a couple of kids, and got fucked all the same.”

  Adriano lifted out of his seat slowly. There was a lot of shit he would listen to and take, but his mother being slandered sure as fuck wasn’t one of them. He ignored the way Alessa’s face crumpled for him, likely knowing how much her brother’s words stung.

  While Joel might have come into the restaurant unarmed, Adriano certainly had not. Adriano wanted the man to know it, too.

  “Say that again,” Adriano said coolly, flashing the gun at his waist. “Go on, do it.”

  Riley clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t bother. Joel is simply proving my point, son.”

  Adriano’s molars ached from his jaw clenching so damn hard. “If you say so.”

  “I do, Adriano.” Turning his attention back on Joel for a moment, Riley dismissed the man with a flick of his hand. “Enjoy your drink and please, get your sisters something to eat before you go. The restaurant was closed today for this meeting but there’s no point in wasting it. However, my men and I will be going. Consider my words, Joel.”

  Joel’s gaze narrowed in on Riley. “You’re hoping for a lot.”

  Riley smiled his cold grin again. “Hopes are reserved for men who have something to dream of. I have no doubt that all my dreams will come crawling to my feet in due time. Good luck, Joel. You’ll surely need it after today.”

  Kolin held out a suit jacket for Riley to put on before he left the table without another word. Adriano followed his father and the Capo, taking his strides slowly as a few Conti men stood from their seats at various tables to leave as well.

  Like promised, there was a black car parked alongside the curb to take Riley away.

  Adriano heard the ding of the restaurant’s front door just as the passenger side was opened for Riley to get in. Tossing a glance over his shoulder, Adriano froze. It was just a brief second. Enough to turn his blood to ice.

  The shine of black metal and the click of a safety was all Adriano needed to know … Laurent Rossi raised the weapon and aimed through the crowd of men, pointing directly at Riley. No one seemed to notice what was happening. Maybe they all thought it was just another Conti man making his way out from the restaurant after every other guy had.

  Who cared?

  Adriano heard himself shout, but it sounded distant even to him. “Gun!”

  People moved fast.

  Time moved faster.

  Adriano lunged toward his father, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough. And there were far too many men in the way, trying to either help someone or get the fuck out of the gun’s scope. The barrel of the gun flashed brightly, quiet pops following. A pain seared across Adriano’s left bicep as he grabbed for his own gun and turned it on Laurent.

  His weapon fired, snapping hard in Adriano’s hand over and over with the kickback. Glass shattered as his bullets ripped through the glass windows of the restaurant. Unlike Laurent’s gun, Adriano’s had no silencer. The bangs echoed through the quiet street and screamed in his ears.

  Then again, maybe those screams weren’t from the noise of his gun at all.

  For a brief moment, Adriano took his finger off the trigger.

  Oh, God.

  Alessa.

  She was in that fucking restaurant and he was firing at it.

  Adriano dropped his weapon to his side and pushed toward the black car and through the swarm of men protecting his father.

  “Dad!” he shouted.

  “Move, move—go!” someone barked.

  More shots fired.

  From who, Adriano wasn’t sure. He didn’t even fucking know if his had hit their target. Someone pushed his back hard, sending him flying through the opened passenger door and into the back seat of the black car.

  Adriano’s hands slipped on something wet and warm when he grabbed for his father. A morbid red stained Adriano’s hands.

  Blood.

  But who did it belong to?

  Adriano searched Riley for any sign of blood or a wound needing attention. “Where is it?”

  Riley didn’t answer.

  “Shit,” Riley growled, pain crossing his features as he winced. “Kolin …”

  Th
e car’s door slammed shut as the vehicle lurched forward. Adriano’s back hit the seat hard as the car’s tires squealed when it took a sharp turn far too fast.

  “Kolin!” Riley called again.

  “Yeah, boss,” Kolin said from the front passenger seat.

  Adriano could smell it.

  Rusty and tangy.

  Heady and thick.

  Fresh and wet.

  Blood.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The ricochet of shattering glass and the background of volcanic noise was all Alessa heard before she hit the floor. A searing pain sliced her cheek when someone’s hand hit the back of her head and forced her down.

  “Stay the fuck down!” Dean snarled.

  Where had he come from?

  The last she saw, Dean had still been sitting in the corner with his father.

  Abriella … Adriano …

  Alessa was torn between her sister and her lover. She settled for the person she knew was closest and prayed that Adriano was okay.

  “Abriella!” Alessa screamed, reaching for her sister. Abriella should have been there. She was one seat away at the table when the bullets started flying. “Abriella!”

  No one answered her back.

  More bodies hit the floor. Men covered their heads. Pop. Pop. Pop. Her heart raced, leaping into her throat. A sickness curled around her senses as tires screeched outside.

  “Get off of me!” Alessa cried.

  “Stay there,” Dean barked.

  “Ella!”

  Alessa didn’t give a damn about Joel. She had a sneaking suspicion he probably planned for the meeting to go down this way. He’d been sitting at the table between Alessa and Abriella, but he smiled when Laurent stood from his table with a gun in hand, following behind the Contis.

  Somehow, Alessa rolled to her back even with Dean’s weight on her.

  “Let me go!”

  Dean glared. “You have to stay—”

  She slapped him hard, shocking him enough for her to push him off. She didn’t give a damn if he was protecting her and the gunshots were still loud outside. Rolling over to her knees, Alessa searched for her sister as Dean’s arms wrapped her waist and pulled her down to the glass filled ground again.

  Alessa was stuck staring at her sister. On her back, Abriella choked and jerked, spitting out red saliva as crimson pooled around her back. Terror saturated Alessa, keeping her stricken and immobile.

  “Ella,” Alessa whispered.

  Quiet, gasping cries echoed from Abriella. Alessa tried to crawl to her sister’s side, but Dean’s strong hold around her middle was relentless.

  “Oh, my God … let me go,” Alessa begged. “Ella!”

  It was just a blink and Tommas Rossi was there. His black shoes skidded across the floor before his hand slammed into the table, pushing it out of the way.

  Tommas’ attention was only on Abriella. “Slow breaths. Not too fast, Ella.”

  Dean finally let Alessa go.

  It was only then she realized the gunfire had stopped. Alessa crawled on hands and knees across the four feet that separated her and Abriella. She stopped just short of the bloody mess, scared to touch it.

  Damian Rossi came to his cousin’s side, tugging off his suit jacket. “Chill, Tommy.”

  He spoke the words quietly—warningly.

  “I’m trying,” Tommas said under his breath.

  “And failing,” Damian muttered. “It’s coming from her back.”

  “Yeah,” Tommas grunted. “Let’s get some pressure on that to stop it from bleeding more than it already has.”

  “Ready?”

  Tommas nodded. “On three.”

  “Call for an ambulance!” someone yelled.

  “One, two—”

  “Three,” Damian interrupted his cousin and lifted Abriella on her side.

  The sickness Alessa felt only got worse as she caught sight of the bullet wound bleeding out from Abriella’s back. Damian shoved his jacket underneath and pressed his hand to the injury, keeping firm pressure.

  “Back down,” Tommas ordered.

  Damian lowered Abriella to the floor.

  “Ow,” Abriella mumbled.

  “That’s good,” Tommas whispered. “Feeling pain is good. It means you’re not going into shock.”

  “For now,” Damian added softer.

  “I don’t like you much,” Abriella told Damian.

  Damian smirked. “You’re not required to.”

  “Good thing Lily married you,” Abriella said. “Otherwise, no one would put up with your ass.”

  “Stop talking,” Tommas ordered. “Try to be calm.”

  “Hey,” Abriella whispered, touching Tommas’ mouth with her fingertip.

  Tommas smiled but it faded fast. His words were too quiet for anyone else to hear. “I’m going to fucking kill him, Ella. After this, he’s so gone, girl.”

  Who?

  “Careful,” Damian warned his cousin.

  “Hush, Tommy,” Abriella soothed. “You worry too much. I tell you that all the time.”

  Alessa searched for Joel in the questioning, worried faces beginning to move with phones pressed to their ears. Joel’s tired, angry laughter filled the mostly quiet restaurant. With devastation all around and his sister dying on the floor just feet away, all Joel could do was laugh.

  “Fucking hell,” Joel said, his fingers digging into the leather bench as he stared outside at the street. “That cocksucker.”

  The people outside must have dispersed. Tires screeched again. A siren echoed in the background, telling her help was on the way.

  “Laurent got out good,” someone said. “Beat feet to the pavement quick and his car was parked down the way.”

  Joel scoffed. “Useless. That’s what he fucking is.”

  “Maybe so, but someone got something bad out there. It happened kind of fast, boss,” Dean said, ignoring Alessa on the floor. “Give him some credit. Look at all that fucking red out there on the ground. Wait and see who it came from, Joel.”

  Red …

  Oh, God.

  Adriano.

  Alessa’s heart screamed out for him, needing to know he was safe and okay.

  “Riley took something,” Walter added, righting a table before he sat down on a chair. “I saw it when it hit him.”

  “Right,” Joel said faintly.

  Their conversation went on like nothing else was happening. Like Abriella wasn’t bleeding to death on the floor.

  But Joel … he didn’t care a damn ounce about his sisters.

  Nothing.

  Glancing around the restaurant, Alessa watched as the men cleared out. They said nothing, but the shock, anger, and confusion racing across all their faces was enough to tell her that none of them knew this would happen. Joel had shown his colors, as mean as they were.

  But the Outfit was like it always was. It wasn’t a one for all or all for one thing.

  Save your fucking asses.

  “I think the bleeding is staunched,” Damian said, bringing Alessa’s attention back to her sister. “Try not to move much.”

  Abriella wasn’t listening. Alessa could tell by the way her sister looked around, dazed.

  “Ella,” Tommas said harshly. “Eyes open, sweet girl.”

  “It’s worse than it is,” Abriella mumbled.

  “I think you took a bullet straight through your back and into the lung,” Tommas replied quietly. “That’s kind of bad, Ella. And I need you to keep looking at me.”

  Abriella laughed bleakly. “I’ve only ever looked at you. Who the hell else is going to save me?”

  Alessa felt numb. Or like maybe she was floating up above and watching those down below move around her prone, quiet form. She stared blankly at the tiled floor of the emergency room. Her tears finally subsided. Her eyes still hurt and felt swollen. Shock had finally set it.

  Several people had attempted to sit down in the empty chair next to hers and chat. Her parents had rushed to the hospital the mo
ment they got the news about the shooting, but Alessa couldn’t even bring herself to talk to them when they tried.

  Nothing.

  Just a shell.

  Between worrying for her sister who had been in surgery for three hours with no word on her condition, and wondering about Adriano’s current situation, Alessa was overwhelmed. She had given up and given into it.

  She didn’t know how to do anything different right then.

  A form settled into the chair beside Alessa’s. She passed the person a fleeting look, but did a double take when she realized who it was.

  Tommas.

  “You’re still here?” Alessa asked quietly.

  Tommas chuckled dryly. “Where else should I be, Alessa?”

  Alessa took inventory of who was still in the waiting room. There were a lot of her brother’s men, some of the Rossi crew, and a few family members.

  Joel had gone long ago. His quick departure hadn’t been a shocker.

  “I don’t know, Tommas, I just thought—”

  “My whole life is lying on an operating table with a bullet in her body because her brother is a fool,” Tommas interjected calmly. “And at the moment, I’m doing my best to keep my cool. But in here …”

  Tommas pointed at his chest, growing silent.

  “Yeah?” Alessa pressed.

  “I can’t breathe.”

  “Oh.”

  Tommas shrugged. “So, I’ll stay until I can’t anymore or I get word. But then I’ll have to figure something out so that I can get in and see her.”

  “You shouldn’t have to sneak around.”

  “I’ve always had to sneak around with Ella,” Tommas muttered. “She’ll be okay. Abriella doesn’t give up anything if she doesn’t want to.”

  Alessa felt lighter just hearing him say that. “I hope so.”

  “Ah, there’s no hoping about it. I know. The way you were looking over here, dead to the world, I figured someone needed to tell you, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tommas offered her a small smile and nothing more. He stood from the seat and resumed his spot across the waiting room with his cousin.