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Niccolaio Andretti: A Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 2)

Page 20

by Parker S. Huntington


  “Are we in the right theater?” I ask as I stare up at the screen, where Emma Watson is looking into a handheld mirror at the Beast.

  Given what I know about the fairy tale, it looks like the movie is at least two-thirds of the way done.

  “Yep. This is the one.”

  “Do you want to catch a later showing?”

  “No. Do you?”

  I frown at the amusement in his voice, but I shake my head and stay silent as we watch the last twenty or so minutes of the movie in silence. Five minutes in, he does the stereotypical yawn, stretch, and hand around the back move, which makes me roll my eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have told you that this is my first date. Now you’re pulling out all the big moves,” I say, leaning my head against his firm bicep and gesturing to the giant hole in the movie theater carpet, which has to be some sort of hazard. Definitely a lawsuit waiting to happen.

  He gives me a boyish grin, and his face instantly transforms from the face of Niccolaio Andretti, the killer the darkest people in this world know, to Niccolaio Andretti, the guy who doesn’t judge me and says silly, ridiculous things to make my little sister laugh.

  “Damn, I should have splurged for the popcorn,” he says, looking at our stash of boxed candy in mock disappointment.

  I try and fail to stifle my stupid smile, because I was the one who pointed out the greenish hue of the popcorn in question. Good God, this place needs to be shut down, but man, if it isn’t quickly becoming one of my favorite places.

  “I think I’ll have to dock two or three points off for that.”

  “I think I can live with a 98%.”

  “On a scale of one to five.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” I say, grinning at the foreign feel of flirting for fun.

  Without an agenda that involves men that I have no desire to be with.

  “Depends on what it is.”

  “Have you always been such a perv?”

  “Since I reached the double digits.”

  “You know, I can picture ten year old Niccolaio trying to peak up ladies’ skirts.”

  He rolls his eyes, but the smile is still on his face. “Shut up and kiss and make it better already.”

  With pleasure.

  I lean forward, my breath hitching, as I shift my body his way. He surprises me by reaching across me and grabbing my waist, lifting and swiveling my body so I’m straddling him. Grinding myself harder against him until he groans, I lean forward to kiss him, my lips almost touching his.

  And then the movie theater attendant enters the theater, making his rounds up and down the rows in the theater, even though Niccolaio and I are clearly the only ones in here. I stifle a laugh as the embarrassed teenager power walks past us, unable to avoid it given our placement in the handicap row.

  Burying my face in Niccolaio’s neck, I wait until the poor kid leaves before I let the laughter burst past my lips.

  Niccolaio looks at me in amusement. “You’re smiling, and I didn’t even have to dance with you.”

  It’s then that I realize that I haven’t smiled or laughed this much in… well, ever. I’ve never had the chance to be a kid. I was abandoned, and when my parents came back, I was forced into drug dealing. And then Mina came, and I learned how to be both sister and mother at once, and I haven’t stopped since.

  But now, I feel my age. I feel young and free, like the possibilities in life are endless, even though I’m just sitting in a seat in a rundown dollar movie theater, hardly watching the movie that’s playing on the screen.

  Heck, I even almost forget what’s playing until, a few minutes later, the end credits come on, and the song “Beauty and the Beast” begins to play. I stand up to leave, disappointed that my time in the dark with Niccolaio is over.

  But when I head towards the exit, Niccolaio grabs my hand and pulls me back into him.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as he begins to guide my body into a sway.

  “We’re dancing, Minka. Go with it.”

  And I do, the happiest I’ve been in so long, swaying to the sound of John Legend and Ariana Grande as Niccolaio pulls me tighter into his arms and dips me like a seasoned pro.

  I’m grateful when Niccolaio doesn’t turn in the direction of the safe house. I was worried that this date would be over so soon, but I should have known better. I suspect that Niccolaio will always exceed my expectations.

  My cheeks flush as my mind automatically drifts to sex. I want a kiss from him, and not a light pressing of our lips together before he ditches me without a word, though, heck, I’d take that, too, at this point.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

  “Your lips on mine. My hands sliding down the front of your pants, gripping your bare cock. Your fingers on my chest, pinching, teasing, tugging on my hardened nipples,” I answer honestly.

  Perhaps too honestly, but oh, well.

  “Fuck,” he groans, pulling the car over, and for a brief moment, I perk up in excitement, thinking that he’s going to give me exactly what I want, but he doesn’t.

  Instead, he unbuckles my seatbelt, exits the car, and opens my door for me. I grab his hand and accept his help when he lifts me onto the hood of the car. Before me is the Hudson River in all of its smelly glory.

  He smirks at my scrunched up nose and says, “Almost nine million people live in this city, and all of their trash gets taken across the river to be incinerated. The wind still picks up the scent and drifts it back across the river, hence the stench.”

  “Lovely.” I joke, “So, you’ve taken me to the last twenty minutes of a movie at a place that’s more safety hazard than it is a theater and now a stinky river across from nine million people’s worth of trash. Is this the part of the night when you chop my body up and throw the pieces into the water?” I lean into him as he takes a seat beside me on the hood of his car. “Niccolaio Andretti, you’re absolutely charming. Do what you want with my limbs, but do you promise to keep my ass intact? I’m rather fond of it.”

  “Laugh it up, but this is my favorite place in the entire city.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We live in a city with nine million other people. Nine million. And that isn’t including the shit ton of tourists New York City garners, too. Sometimes, I just need a break. To remind myself that I’m free. That I’m not tied to this town in the ways I sometimes feel like I am. And here, I’m alone. I’m my own man. I can think my own thoughts without them being clouded by so many other people.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of being alone? You lived by yourself in that brownstone.”

  “Well, yeah, but that’s different.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m trapped there, and I’m not here. I’m not sure there’s another way to explain it.”

  “I like it here,” I decide.

  “Even if it’s smelly?”

  “Especially because it’s smelly.”

  “No shit?”

  “If it wasn’t, I think more people would be here, and then, I’d really hate it.”

  He barks out a laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “So says the man that goes to a putrid river to get away from nine million people that don’t even know him.” My expression sobers as I look at the city from our viewpoint. “I know what you mean,” I say softly. “It feels like freedom here. It’s far enough away from the city that I don’t feel trapped by all of my responsibilities and close enough that I still feel like I can be there for Mina if she needs me.” I turn to him. “Thank you for taking me here.”

  We sink into silence together, enjoying the sound of the water and the breeze before he asks, “Why don’t you curse?”

  I do curse when it comes to filthy words, because there’s just no substitution for that, but I suspect he’s not referring to that, so I say, “I promised myself I’d stop around the same time I p
romised myself that I’d become the person I need to be in order to get Mina back.”

  The reference to my gold digging is sobering, laying between us like the elephant in the room. I’m grateful when he doesn’t bring it up, because I don’t want to face that reality yet. I don’t want to gold dig, but I still need to. Mina has six more years in the foster care system if I don’t do anything about it.

  But for now, I just want to enjoy this moment of normalcy, with a boy that I really, really like. And I do like him. He’s maddening, absolutely infuriating, but he’s also everything I never knew I wanted. Is it so wrong to lead him on like this? He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can handle it.

  “Why don’t you try cursing right now?” he asks.

  “It’s a slippery slope.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “Are you trying to corrupt me, Niccolaio?”

  “You’re already corrupt, Minka. Or shall I say Remington?”

  I shove my shoulders lightly against his, forcing the memories of that night away but also wishing he’d just kiss me already. I want to know what it feels like to be kissed—really kissed—and like it. But I don’t want to be the initiator. Not when I’m already leading him on.

  So, instead, I say, “Tell me a secret.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What happened that night?”

  “It was four days after a botched hit on Vincent. We all thought the Romanos were going to retaliate on my dad, so he had me and Ranie stay at our Uncle Luca’s place. I couldn’t sleep and was walking around the place when I noticed that all the guards were missing. I didn’t have my phone on me, and Ranie’s room was on the other side of the mansion, so I drew my gun and cleared the rooms until I reached that hall. Where I met Asher for the first time. He gave me an ultimatum—Ranie’s life or Uncle Luca’s.”

  “And you chose Ranie.”

  “I don’t regret it either.”

  “How can he be mad at you for what happened if you did it for him?”

  “I don’t think he knows I did it for him. I don’t think anyone knows what happened. Or if they do, they just don’t care. I did kill a capo.”

  “Did you try to explain what happened?”

  “I fled as soon as it happened, but I tried to call and email for a little. But then I realized they could track that, so I reverted to mailing letters to my dad and Ranie without a return address. I don’t know if they ever got them. Either way, it doesn’t matter. My dad’s dead, and Ranie put a hit out on me. La volontà de re. The King’s Will.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s like a deathbed wish from a mafia boss to his predecessor. And traditionally, it has to be carried out.”

  “And your dad made a King’s Will? What was it?”

  “My death.”

  I shake my head, unable to believe it but no longer wanting to talk about something so dark, so serious on my first date. “Tell me something else. Something positive.”

  He leans back, so he’s laying entirely on the car now, and I join him, resting my head on his chest. “I want you, Minka Reynolds. You’re going to be mine. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “I don’t have a say in this?” I ask, amused.

  He decided that he wants me, and it’s just a matter of time. That should piss me off, but it doesn’t. Because if I’m being honest, I want him, too.

  Even if I know I can’t have him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I wondered if that was how

  forgiveness budded; not with the

  fanfare of epiphany, but with pain

  gathering its things, packing up,

  and slipping away unannounced

  in the middle of the night.

  Khaled Hosseini

  Minka’s quiet as we drive back to the safe house. It’s on my mind to say something, but I notice a car following us once we reach a one block perimeter to the safe house, and I have to push the thought aside.

  “Take the wheel for a sec,” I tell Minka.

  “What?!” she asks, the alarm clear in her voice. “I’ve never driven a car!”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-two, you jerk! I’m a New Yorker! We don’t drive.”

  I smile at the sass in her voice. Aside from earlier in the day, she’s been tamer than usually today, and I was worried that taking her on a date might pacify her defiance.

  I look her in the eye, so she knows I’m serious. “I’m going to let go of the wheel. If you don’t take it, I can’t guarantee we won’t crash.”

  I let go of the wheel, and her eyes widen.

  She grabs it, shouting, “You asinine jerk!”

  I laugh, my head turned away from her as I dig through my go bag and say, “Careful. Your Wilton is showing.”

  Surveying my options, I grab a knife, my colt and an EMP gun from the bag before swiveling back to the front seat with my goods.

  Minka’s eyes widen as she takes in my selection. “Oh, my God. You’re crazy. You almost killed us for that?! What are those for?”

  “I didn’t almost kill us. You’re a natural driver.”

  “You weren’t even watching me drive!”

  “We’re alive, right?”

  “Unbelievable. And this date was going so well.”

  It was. It still is. I was going to drop her off at the door to the safe house, like I’m pretending to drop her off at her parents’ house; give her a kiss that would blow her mind; and then, jokingly sneak in a minute later.

  But now she’s about to watch me kick some ass, and isn’t that better?

  I take the wheel from her and drive past the alleyway to our safe house.

  “Are we going somewhere?” Her eyes light up when she notices that we passed our place, and I’m tempted to take her someplace else, to make this night last as long as it can. “Gun range?”

  “Someone’s following us.”

  Her eyes widen, and she stares at my weapons again before relaxing in her seat, a resigned sigh escaping into the air.

  I hand her the EMP gun, even though I’d love the opportunity to use it for the first time. “Want to shoot it?”

  “I’ve never shot a gun before. My aim probably sucks.”

  “It doesn’t shoot bullets. It shoots an electromagnetic pulse, so your aim doesn’t have to be too good. Just shoot in the direction of the car when I tell you to.”

  A sly grin spreads across her face, and holy shit, I think I’m in love with this woman. Okay, maybe not, but I could be. I can see this going there, and I’m eager for every little moment that she surprises me. Like right now, when there’s excitement in her eyes when there probably should be alarm.

  “Hold onto the Oh Shit! handle,” I warn, before slamming on the breaks and using the momentum to swivel the car one hundred and eighty degrees, so I’m now facing the car that was following us.

  I take in the widened eyes of the driver, his mouth slightly agape as he quickly presses on the breaks of his car, and it halts with a sudden jerk. His face says it all—he’s in way over his head. But I’ve never been one to have mercy. This guy decided to come after me while I’m with Minka. With that thought in mind, I rev my engine, and the other car begins to reverse. I follow it at an increasing speed. Beside me, Minka’s face is flush with adrenaline, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me.

  “Can I shoot it?” she asks.

  Her burgundy hair is blowing wildly in the wind, her flushed face is a rosy pink, and the EMP is delicately nestled between both hands, and she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  I bite back a grin and say, “Almost.”

  I turn my wheel a little to the right and pick up speed, so my front left bumper is next to his front left bumper, and then I start to turn the car in his direction. He adjusts his wheels, shifting the direction of his car, so I don’t bump into it. When he realizes where I’m leading him, he tr
ies to turn another way, but it’s too late.

  I’ve back him into the dead end alleyway adjacent to our safe house. He revs his engine, a threat that he’ll ram us down, but I call bullshit.

  Just in case, I tell Minka, “You can shoot it now.”

  She sticks the EMP gun out of the window, the size of it a little too big for her, and I watch her struggle to balance it with a slight grin on my face. A few seconds after she pulls the trigger, the other car’s engine starts to die.

  “How are you not upset about this?” she asks, her eyes eagerly devouring the scene before us.

  But I am upset. I just hide it well. Instead of telling her this, I say, “I was prepared for something like this to happen.”

  I just didn’t think she’d be there when it did, and fuck, that makes me mad. And as the adrenaline fades, I realize how fucked up this is. I put this woman in danger. If she gets hurt, that’d be on me, and I know without a doubt that I would never recover from that.

  My expression sobers as I stare at the opposing car, allowing my anger to simmer beneath my skin, hidden to everyone but me. Unfortunately for the guy in front of us, he’s the source of my anger, and I’ve never been one to forgive and forget. It must run in the family, I can’t help but think in the back of my mind.

  The driver rolls down his window and sticks both of his hands out for me to see. He places one hand on the roof of his car and uses the other to unlock the car door from the outside handle. I wait impatiently as he steps out, my gun at the ready just in case.

  When he’s completely outside of the car and pressed against it, I get out and approach him, Minka following closely behind me. I cuff his hands together with a zip tie I grabbed from my go bag and lead him into the safe house, using him as a human shield in case any intruders got in while we were gone, though I suspect not, because I haven’t gotten an alarm alert on my phone.

  After I clear the room and am certain that only Jax is in here, I grab a bag for Minka and toss it to her. “We have to switch safe houses.”

 

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