by Addison Jane
“Fuck,” Andre cursed, keeping his head low as he made his way over to the body and pressing his back against the brick wall beside the window. With one sharp tug on the man’s shirt, he fell backward and crashed onto the concrete.
“He’s got no fucking head,” one of my other boys murmured in horror. I could barely hear him, the ringing in my ears having not subsided yet.
He wasn’t far from the truth.
His skull had been completely blown to shreds, there wasn’t one hole. He’d been shot point blank with a fucking high powered shotgun.
The sound of cackling laughter coming from the interior of the building had my hackles up and my anger building.
That was meant for me.
“If you’re listening to this then you’re still alive… unfortunately,” a voice tormented from inside. A deep frown appeared on Andre’s face, and he took a quick peek through the window before turning to me with a furious expression on his face.
“It’s a fucking recording,” he hissed. “How the hell did he get the gun to go off?”
I moved in closer, leaning down and tugging off the dead man’s shoe. “Get back,” I warned my boys, using the wall as protection before tossing the dirty, worn shoe through the space.
BANG.
This time, I was sure I felt the building shake.
“Motion detectors,” I hissed, a part of me impressed with the creativity, part of me barely containing the fury that was building in my gut.
“Bet you’re wondering how I set this up aren’t you,” the voice laughed.
Already figured that out, fuckhead.
“I have two things to tell you,” he continued. “One… I’m going to kill every damn person associated with the DePalmas.”
I held back a scoff, and Andre clenched his fists, his eyes narrowed on the dead man at our feet.
“And two…” my gut tightened, hearing the amusement in his voice, “… you should never leave a woman you care about alone with no one to protect her.”
Andre’s eyes flicked up and met mine. Instantly, the two of us took off down the street running toward the car, Tobia’s laughter filling the cold night air behind us.
I stirred in my sleep, stretching my limbs and enjoying the delightful ache of muscles that I hadn’t used in a very long time. I couldn’t help but smile at the uncomfortable pull and the way the parts of my skin felt raw and scratched, knowing that I would do it all over again in a second.
Angelo was rough, commanding, and he played my body like he was a damn musician. The electricity that flowed between us was off the charts. The contrast of the emotions I felt when I was with him, made our chemistry stronger and more powerful.
I wanted to fight him, my stubborn brain demanding that I don’t give in to the way his arrogant ass assumed he owned my body, the way he demanded pleasure from me like it was his to take. But then there’s the part of me who wanted to please him. The part of me that wanted so desperately to give him full power and trust that he knows what to do with it. Just thinking about the way he had manipulated my body made me feel like I was going to burst into flames right there on the bed.
Not my bed… his bed.
I looked around, the room illuminated by the full moon that seemed to be out in force.
When I realized he was nowhere to be found, and the bedroom door was closed, disappointment filled me. A blinking light caught my eye, and I noticed that my cell phone was sitting on the bedside table. I reached over and grabbed it, pulling the flimsy sheet around my naked body as I unlocked my phone to check the time.
Ten missed calls had me frowning.
They were all from Angelo’s number, along with a text message.
Angelo: DANGER. GUN IN BEDSIDE TABLE. USE IT IF YOU HAVE TO. ON MY WAY.
My body froze as I read those words not just once or twice, but three times, before I realized what the hell was going on. Tossing my phone across the bed, my heart thumped in double time while my hands shook uncontrollably as I tried to open the bedside drawer.
Realizing this side was empty, I scampered across the other side, the drawer rattling as I tugged it open. I felt around inside, my hand quickly landing on top of the cold metal of a handgun. Wrapping my hand around it, I slowly lifted it from the drawer while licking my dry lips when I realized I’d never held a damn real gun, let alone knew how to shoot one.
“Damn it,” I hissed under my breath and threw my feet over the edge of the bed, the sheet tucked tightly around my body as I stared at the bedroom door.
My stomach churned, and my whole body felt as though it was numb.
Where are you, Angelo?
Each breath was getting shorter and sharper by the moment. I almost leaped out of my skin when I spotted a shadow moving around out on the balcony. Shuffling backward, my back hit the headboard with a loud thud.
I struggled to raise the gun, my entire body was shaking so hard that I thought I might go into shock before I even had the chance to pull the trigger or try to protect myself.
Tobia’s face flashed across my vision for a moment, his cocky smirk and his charcoal eyes. They burned through me, lighting my skin on fire. I hated that I felt this way, I hated that this man had had such a huge impact on my life and the way I lived. It wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be living in fear, the kind that was almost debilitating.
I thought I was taking back my power, after what had happened with Benny. I realized the pain of Sophie’s death was going to affect me for a long time, but I thought I was finally finding my inner soldier. I thought for some stupid reason that standing up to Benny was the start of me fighting back.
But here I was again, faced with the prospect of coming face to face with the man who murdered my sister and laughed, as I cowered on the floor at his feet. And I was fucking petrified.
Sudden movement and a face and body appeared at the glass doors that led out onto the balcony and I screamed, squeezing the trigger of the gun.
I was expecting a loud boom, a bang, a noise of some kind, but all I heard was the person outside cursing. They’d ducked back behind the wall so I couldn’t see them.
The gun hadn’t gone off.
“Emerson!” a deep scratchy voice called. “It’s Gio, your fucking cousin.”
Suddenly, I took a large breath and tears burned at my eyes.
Gio was here.
I knew Gio.
Not well, but I knew he was family and Angelo had explained that he too worked for Anthony.
The gun dropped to the floor beside the bed, clattering across the wooden floorboards.
“Unlock the damn bedroom door,” he ordered, his voice harsh and not an ounce of empathy for the fact that I thought there was an intruder in the apartment. He may have been upset that I’d just tried to shoot him, though.
I reached for the bedside lamp, hitting the switch but realizing that nothing was happening.
Searching the dimly lit room with my eyes, I spotted one of Angelo’s business shirts lying across the back of the large chair in the corner of the room and rushed over, pulling it on to cover my naked body, before I walked over to the door and turned the knob so it would unlock.
I swallowed as I pushed it open, peeking out into the hallway.
I forced myself not to recoil when I noticed there were at least six men filling the small space, with flashlights in their hands—all staring directly at me with narrowed eyes. They seemed to part as Gio ducked back in from the patio and headed straight for me. I took a step back, the fury in his eyes enough to make me cower, despite the fact I knew he was family and wouldn’t hurt me.
He pulled up a few feet away, his body towering over mine. “One of my boys is down trying to get the power turned back on, little asshole switched it off,” he growled.
“Who?” I asked, even as my stomach twisted in hopes that he wasn’t about to say the name I could hear repeating over and over in my head.
“Tobia,” Gio answered simply, almost robotically. There was no emotion in
his voice that told me he cared for a moment what I’d been through with regards to Tobia.
“Was he… here?” I asked, my mouth dry and my body starting to feel very cold.
Gio lifted his hand, the moonlight sparkling across the surface of the blade he held. I gasped, recognizing it immediately. Mainly because it was still streaked with my dried blood.
My hand unconsciously reached for my throat, the cut had scabbed over and was healing. It hadn’t been life threatening, more like a cat scratch or papercut, and at the time with the adrenaline running through me, I’d barely even noticed the pain.
I had to lean my body back against the wall, my head feeling light and airy.
Lights began flicking on throughout the apartment, the one above us flashing brightly, forcing me to avert my eyes.
“Emerson!”
His voice brought me back to earth, grounding me.
It was then I let the tears drip down my cheeks. I threw my body forward, racing down the short hallway, ignoring the way Gio’s men watched me with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. He appeared from around the corner just in time to catch me. Angelo’s arms went around me, but I could already tell in that moment that something had changed.
“What happened?” Angelo asked, his chin resting on the top of my head and his deep voice vibrating through my body, soothing me.
“He flicked off the power to the apartment,” Gio answered, his footsteps coming closer. “Doesn’t look like he came inside, but he left a parting gift outside your bedroom door that leads outside. From the way Emerson reacted to it, seems like she knows what it means.”
The light scraping of the knife being placed on the glass coffee table a few feet from me sent a chill up my spine, and I shuddered. I felt Angelo pulling away from me, and I clutched on tighter.
He stiffened. “Thanks for coming, I can take it from here.”
Footsteps began to head for the door. I knew I should say thanks to Gio and his boys for showing up ready to protect me, but I couldn’t find the words on my tongue.
“If you’re going to give her a gun to shoot at people with, at least teach her how to turn the fucking safety off,” Gio murmured as he walked past Angelo, heading for the door. Angelo tensed, and I swore I heard a soft growl come from the depths of his throat, but he didn’t reply.
“Andre, get Emerson a glass of water,” he ordered after the front door clicked closed again. He moved his hands to my hips, shuffling my body backward until I felt the back of my knees touch the living room sofa. “Sit.”
My fingers tightened on his suit jacket for a brief second, before I reminded myself that everything was going to be okay. He was here now. Nothing could touch me when he was here.
Angelo made me feel safer and more confident than I’d ever felt. Even before Sophie’s death, I was always one to sit back and allow others to take control of things, even my own life. But Angelo made me want to step forward, with my head held high, and stand strong for myself. He didn’t baby me or let me get away with backing out or trying to escape into my comfort zone, and he did it by challenging me, making me angry, and feeling like I needed to prove him wrong.
Inhaling through my nose, I released him and sat down on the sofa, my shaking legs crying out in relief.
Angelo didn’t take a step back, his eyes scanned over me as though looking for injuries or doing a stock take of all my limbs and making sure that nothing was missing.
The sparkle of the knife on the coffee table a few feet from me forced my body back against soft cushions. “Can you take that away?”
Angelo raised an eyebrow at me before looking over at the knife. He picked it up between his fingers, allowing it to hang there. “Why?”
My brow pulled together at his chilly tone. “Why would I want to see that or want it near me? It’s my blood on that knife. Just looking at it…” My whole body shuddered, and I shook my head.
“Thought you were done running away from this,” he commented, passing the knife off to Andre as he set a glass of water down on the table. His eyes didn’t meet mine, staying downcast as he took the knife and stepped away.
“Where were you?” I asked, ignoring the subtle hit. “And why was Gio here?”
He lifted his chin slightly, his lips pursed. I could tell he didn’t like being questioned, but he’d left me here alone, I had a right to know.
“We took a lead Benny had given us to try and find Tobia’s brother, Dom. Shit happened, and Gio was nearby,” he replied after a few moments. He didn’t offer me anything else or tell me why the hell Gio had been here instead of his men.
No, he was shutting me out.
The man who had opened himself to me put me on the stage in the theater of my dreams and reminded me of who I was, he was long gone.
The asshole was back.
Angelo flicked his head, ordering Andre and the other three of his men who had rushed in behind him, out the door. When Andre didn’t even look back at me, I knew something had gone wrong while they were away. Andre was usually the one to offer me a smile of support or a nudge when he knew Angelo was grinding my gears, a subtle reminder that he was there for me as well. But right now, I could see he was worried.
I threw a sofa cushion at him, hitting Angelo square in the chest. He didn’t even flinch, continuing to stare me down and not saying a single word as the men filed out the door.
“So now you’re just going to shut me out and pretend like I’m not fucking important,” I accused again, feeling the anger and frustration building up within me. “Tell me what the hell happened tonight?” Emotions swirled inside me.
I’d almost shot my cousin with Angelo’s gun, thinking he was a damn intruder. Part of me was upset that he’d gone looking for Tobia and his brother without me tonight, but another part of me was relieved, knowing that Angelo was right, that I wasn’t ready to confront him just yet.
That realization didn’t change the fact he was standing in front of me right now, acting like I was a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe which he couldn’t shake off.
“I don’t answer to anyone,” he said sternly, his face a complete mask, nothing like the man who’d been inside my body only a few short hours ago. I didn’t know who that man was, but I was quickly learning that this was the real Angelo. He didn’t share feelings, he didn’t bow to anyone’s demands, and he sure as hell didn’t give a shit about how I felt.
“You’re a selfish asshole,” I spat, feeling the tears begin to well up in my eyes. I tried to hold them back, fighting the burning feeling in my throat. I didn’t want him to know the impact of his actions on me because I knew he wouldn’t care. “I thought you were trying to help me get through this. I thought that was the point of this whole shitstorm that we’re in.”
He’d closed off already, I could tell.
Maybe I’d pushed him too far.
Maybe I’d asked too much of him.
Maybe I’d imagined him to be someone who I should have known he wasn’t.
“I was given this job to protect you,” he said, his voice calm and void of any kind of emotion.
Even then his words pulled at my heart, though, drawing my breath from my lungs for a moment.
I was just a job, that’s all I was.
“I’ll protect you in any way I see fit, but don’t think that you can order me around like you are some kind of fucking princess.”
I gasped.
Who the hell was this man standing in front of me?
I stormed forward, surprising him as I got in his face. “You think I’m weak… you think I’m this poor girl who can’t speak for herself and lets people walk all over her. I should be stronger. I should be able to handle more without breaking down into tears. I should be able to fight the nightmares.” He raised his brow as I continued, my body burning. “Yeah, that’s all probably true, but it’s not who I damn well want to be, and it’s you that gives me the courage to be someone else.”
“How are you going to make it thro
ugh life if you’re constantly relying on someone else to push you to be the person you want to be?” he threw back, stunning me. “Sophie was it wasn’t she. She was the one who told you that you could do it, whenever your parents made you feel like you couldn’t. She was the one who pushed you to keep going. And now look at what you’re doing, Emerson.”
I felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest.
I already knew what he was going to say because I knew it was true.
And I hated that it was true.
“Now you’re here, expecting me to take her place. To push you forward and give you that courage which you fucking speak of.” His voice was low and deadly, and each word hit its mark with perfect precision and purpose. “I can’t make you into that person. I can’t fucking hold your hand like Sophie did, and remind you of who you want to be, and what you want to do with your life. That has to be your choice. Your choice to be stronger. Your choice to take no shit from people. Your choice to tell your father to go fuck himself.”
That was it.
Angelo was giving me two options—sink or swim.
But he was making it quite clear that I was going to have to fight for it. He wasn’t going to fill me with positive words or lift me up when I fell. And even as his words hit me one after another like bullets to the chest, I knew there was no going back now.
He turned to walk away, looking back over his shoulder at me for a brief second as though he had more to say. His eyes flashed, his face sinking with what I recognized as sadness before he twisted away again and stalked toward his room.
I pulled my knees to my chest, hugging my body in close as if trying to squash my broken pieces back together again.
I heard him, loud and clear, and the part that made me the most upset was that everything he’d said was true. I’d spent too long relying on others to decide my fate, and then getting upset when it wasn’t what I wanted. Or looking to people like Sophie to push me and light a fire under my ass.
