by Bethany-Kris
“I know you want to believe that, my boy—especially from the way she looks—but it might be better for all of us if she wasn’t a part of the picture. If you get my drift.”
Cold fear stabbed through Melina like a sharp sword. She wasn’t dense. She understood perfectly what they were saying.
She needed to die.
“Wow. I didn’t realize the mob was frightened of women. Interesting.”
“We’re not scared of anything. Least of all a piece of pussy,” Tip said as his face twisted into a snarl.
“Who said anything about the mob?” Vin asked, sneering.
Melina’s gaze flitted to Mac instantly, searching for a direction to go.
“I’ve had about all the disrespect I’m going to take from you two. I brought Melina here out of respect to Guido. Now, if either of you would like to keep running your mouth about my woman, perhaps we need to leave this office and handle it in a different fashion.”
Mac’s eyes were hard, like stones. A muscle moved in his neck. She could feel the tension radiating from his body.
“Is that right, little man?”
Tip moved from his spot next to Guido behind the desk, and came around to face Mac. Though Mac was not a short man by any means, Tip still had a good few inches on him. Melina opened her mouth to say something when Mac eased her behind him. Against her better judgement, she kept quiet. Things looked like they were primed to explode at any minute, and she had no desire to add fuel to the fire.
Mac laughed. “That’s right, asshole. I protect what’s mine.”
Melina watched the exchange between the two men, all the while, keeping an eye on Vincent in his chair. An amused smirk tilted the corners of his mouth. She itched to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Who’s going to protect you?” Tip asked.
Everything happened in a blur. Melina was propelled away from Mac, and had to catch herself to keep from falling. Mac and Tip locked up and Vincent moved from his seat. Guido sat, silent and amused, watching the events with nary a word coming from his lips. Melina’s breath froze painfully in her lungs. She knew that Mac could handle himself. She’d seen him fight, but that was a different story when two men were coming for him at the same time.
The sound of punches landing was sickening. It looked as if Mac might be gaining the upper hand against Tip, when a blow to his kidneys from Vincent nearly sent him to his knees. Tip took the chance to envelope Mac in his massive arms in an attempt to crush his windpipe. Melina’s eyes widened as she noted Mac’s face turning red. Standing in front of Tip, who was holding him, Vincent kicked Mac in the stomach.
“Stop!” Melina yelled.
“Shut up, bitch. You’ll get yours next,” Tip said.
Pushing herself up from the floor, Melina’s eyes darted left and right. She had to do something. They were likely going to kill Mac and then come for her. She wasn’t ready to die today.
Then she found salvation.
Grabbing the black nine-millimeter casually tucked into Vincent’s gun holster, she aimed and fired.
Tip released Mac and fell to the floor. A bullet hole poured blood from between his eyes. He was dead before he even hit the floor.
“What the fuck?” Vin asked, stumbling slightly back from Mac.
He wasn’t far enough away yet. Melina turned the gun on him. He stared at her, eyes open wide with shock.
“Back up.” Her voice shook and she could feel moisture forming on her palms.
Raising his hands up in the air in surrender, Vincent moved further away from Mac. He took his position sitting in the chair he’d earlier vacated.
“See. We’re all good here. Give me the gun, girlie.”
“So you can shoot me? No. I don’t think so.”
Vin glowered at her as he sat, but Melina didn’t give a fuck. Keeping one eye on Vincent, she almost accidently squeezed off another round when the sound of clapping startled her. Mac stared at her as he rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. Behind him, Guido clapped.
“Well, well. Mac, you’ve really got yourself something with her. I’m fucking impressed.”
“So am I. Every time I look at her.” Mac’s voice was soft as he breached the distance between them.
Inside, Melina could feel herself shaking, but she held the gun firm and refused to lower it. Mac’s hand wrapped around hers and he eased the weapon from her grasp. He nodded as if saying that everything was all right. She wanted to melt into his arms, but she couldn’t. No matter what Mac was signaling, Melina wouldn’t be at ease until she was out of this office.
“So, maybe she’s not a rat,” Vin finally muttered.
“At this point, I’m thinking not … Besides she did just kill a man,” Guido said. “As worthless as that man was to me.”
“He was going to kill Mac. I did what I had to,” Melina said, her throat thick and tight.
“Mac was never in any real danger, sweetheart. I’ve seen him get out of worse situations than this little tussle you witnessed.”
Melina raised an eyebrow. “So what are you saying? You set me up?”
Her eyes shifted briefly to Mac before they went back to his boss.
“Not intentionally. I planned on testing you to see if you were a rat, but I had no idea Tip would fly off the handle like he did, providing me an even better chance. Thank you for getting rid of him, by the way. You saved me the trouble.”
For the first time, it dawned on Melina that she’d just killed someone. She’d taken a life without a second thought. The weight of that reality hit her like a freight train. She sagged against Mac, who held her tight. His lips pressed against her temple in a soft kiss.
“If there’s nothing else, Melina and I are going to go.”
“I don’t blame you, Mac. I’d be eager to get your little gunslinger home and underneath me as soon as possible, too, if I were you.”
Melina’s teeth gritted as Mac held her. Guido was a chauvinistic pig and she hoped she never had to see him again.
“We’ll see you later, Guido,” Mac said.
Gently, Mac turned Melina towards the door. He placed the gun she’d taken from Vin into the waistband of his pants. Opening the door, he allowed her to step out first, but he paused at the threshold.
“Vin, I’m sure you’ll understand me not giving this back to you. I think by all rights it belongs to Melina now. Later.”
He closed the door securely behind them. Melina’s knees shook as she descended the stairs. Mac’s hand remained at the small of her back. “Melina?”
“Yes?”
Behind her Mac blew a loud breath. “Have you ever heard of a gun moll?”
“Are you hungry?”
Melina continued to stare at her clenched hands in her lap, like she hadn’t heard Mac’s question. She had been like that ever since they departed from the club. Mac didn’t need to ask why, he knew.
Killing somebody was a killer.
It was even harder to deal with when those around you didn’t act like you had done anything wrong. Or worse, when they gave you the impression you had done something good and right.
Killing was killing, to Mac. It was just another part of the Cosa Nostra life he’d chose. Melina, however, hadn’t chosen it.
It bothered him that she was struggling. Mac wasn’t a fucking machine, despite what his Capo liked to think about his soldato. He had feelings and right then, they were thoroughly tangled up in the beautiful woman in his passenger seat with nothing to say. She didn’t have to say anything. Her emotions might as well have been bleeding out on her sleeve.
“Melina,” Mac said, willing away the thickness in his voice.
Finally, she glanced up at him. “Yeah?”
“Are you hungry, doll?”
Mac expected a retort from Melina for the pet name, but she surprised him.
“Not really,” Melina said.
“That’s too bad.”
“Why?”
“Because I know jail food is garbage,
and you probably haven’t eaten all day. It’s almost six, so you have got to be starving inside. Just because you don’t feel like eating doesn’t mean you’re not hungry, Melina.” Mac waved at the building he’d parked in front of and added, “We’re already at one of the best places in the Kitchen. Let me buy you a meal, get you warm again, and see if your bark comes back.”
Melina passed the restaurant a look that said she was just realizing Mac had parked the car. “If the bark comes back, so does the bite.”
“I look forward to it, doll.”
With that, Mac got out of the car. He was around the front and at the passenger side before Melina had even gathered her purse. Opening her door, he offered his hand to her.
She stared at it warily.
“What are you?” she asked.
Mac laughed. “Pardon?”
“You, what are you? You’re giving me whiplash. You’re cocky as shit, you fight like a pro, you’ve got affiliations to the mob, and a dirty mouth. Yet, I’ve seen you take your sister out, you came to get me out of jail when someone else wouldn’t have done it, and you open a woman’s door. What are you?”
“The man my mother raised,” Mac said quietly.
Melina blinked at that answer. “Oh.”
“You forgot a few other things, doll.”
“Like what?”
“I also like good food, a hard fuck, and a Sunday morning prayer.”
Melina’s lips popped open, but nothing came out.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
Melina took his hand he was still holding out. “I’m not sure of anything.”
Mac chuckled. “Because of me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Too late.”
“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” Melina asked.
Mac twisted his fork around in the spaghetti pasta and kept one eye on Melina all the while. “You’ve got me curious, doll.”
“You’re never going to drop that, are you?”
“No. I like it.”
Melina pursed her lips. “Fantastic.”
“About you, though, you’ve made me wonder.”
“Wonder, what?”
“If all your tough act is just a show,” Mac murmured. “Deep down, you’re bothered about what you did in that office. You’re playing with your food and distracted by the people. You keep looking over your shoulder and sometimes, you just stare at the wall. All that bravado you had is … gone.”
Melina cocked a brow and squared her shoulders. “It wasn’t bravado. Fear makes you do strange things sometimes.”
“Yes it does. Will talking help?”
Mac would let her chat it out if she needed.
“No,” Melina said simply, “it won’t.”
“Okay.” Mac tossed her another look, noting the fire returning in her eyes. “Are you pissed at me for something?”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”
“It helps if a man knows what he’s done, doll.” Mac chuckled, saying, “And the doll thing doesn’t count, because you always turn stiff in the collar over that.”
“No, not that nonsense. You led me on in that office, Mac.”
Mac straightened in his chair. “I did not.”
“You did. You could have gotten out of their hold, and I never would have …” Melina’s gaze swept the neighboring tables before her voice lowered. “I never would have done what I did. It was unnecessary and you know it.”
“I don’t know anything of the sort. What I do know, however, is that two men were on me, I couldn’t breathe, and you were scared. You were frightened enough that you felt you had no other choice than to turn a gun on someone. You made that choice and it was the right one for you at the time.”
“And you?” she asked softly. “Was it the right choice for you?”
“As long as I make it out alive, it is always the right choice.”
Melina sunk into her chair. “None of that makes me feel better.”
“The mafia will do that to you. Nothing about it feels particularly good, but once you step into it, there’s no getting out and you’re in it for life. Then, it’s all about making it work and doing so carefully.”
“I don’t understand.”
Mac shrugged. “I know.”
“What is it you do exactly?”
“Whatever Guido needs me to do,” Mac replied before shoving a bite of pasta into his mouth.
“So, there’s no normal nine-to-five.”
Mac swallowed his food before saying, “No. I do anything from managing a few men, running a scheme on something, keeping care of his rackets with the construction companies, or even being a middle man between Guido and his guys for … other things.”
“Like what?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
Melina smiled coldly. “You could answer some.”
“I’ve already said enough. Do with it what you will,” Mac said quietly.
“Basically, you make money.”
“Try to, yes.”
“For Guido.”
“For the family,” Mac corrected. “Guido is just the Capo I work under. He, like everyone else in this business, still has someone he has to answer to.”
“And who is that?”
Mac sighed heavily. “Too many questions.”
“Is it Luca Pivetti?” Melina asked.
“Could be.”
“He’s the boss for the family you work with, right?” Melina tapped her nails on the table. “Inside the room where the detectives took me, his picture was there with his title under it. Luca is the boss, that’s what it said.”
Mac leaned back in his chair, smiling at his companion. “You know, there are rules for this sort of thing, doll.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“Do tell,” Melina said.
“The most important one is that we never talk about business in public.”
Melina’s mouth snapped shut.
Mac winked. “I appreciate it.”
He went back to eating without another word. Melina pushed around the food on her plate in silence, too. After a few minutes passed, she glanced up at him with a bright curiosity burning.
“What now?” Mac asked.
“Will you ever tell me more about it?”
Melina had earned her stripes, as far as Mac was concerned. She had killed a man for him. The woman was golden. She wasn’t out to hurt him or get him messed up with the officials. But that didn’t mean she was ready for what his life entailed.
He didn’t know that much about her.
Not enough for that, anyway.
“Maybe,” Mac finally said.
Melina laughed under her breath. “Well, I guess we won’t have to worry about it.”
“Why is that?”
“After today, we part ways. Right? We just had to convince—”
“Doll,” Mac said, interrupting her before she could say anymore, “… things might change after everything that happened. It might not be as easy as saying goodbye and going on our merry little ways.”
Melina dropped her gaze. “Why not?”
Mac passed a look over her shoulder. “For one thing, because you took out a Pivetti enforcer and others might not take it as well as Guido did.”
“And for two?”
“For two, there are a couple of Guido’s guys sitting three tables behind us. They came in about ten minutes after we did. They ordered coffee, sandwiches, and nothing else. They followed us from the club. Chances are, they’re going to keep following us.”
Melina shot an inconspicuous look behind her and asked, “Should we be worried?”
“No,” Mac said, scoffing. “Guido likely wants a report from them to confirm what he believes and to make sure I’m on the up and up with it all.”
“But what does he believe, Mac?”
“That you’re my girl, Melina.”
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“I knew that. I just wanted to be sure.”
“Mmm,” Mac hummed. “How do you feel about dancing?”
Melina’s eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”
“No. It seems we’re expected to give our new babysitters a show. As it is, you’ve barely touched your food and I’m finished. Dinner typically follows a date. You like to dance, if the other night is any indication. I would like for you to go dancing with me.”
“With you.”
“Yes,” Mac said, flashing his signature smile.
“A date.”
“You’ve already let me take you out to dinner, doll.”
Melina’s shoulders stiffened. “On one condition.”
“What is that?” Mac asked as he pulled out a few bills to leave on the table and pay for their food.
“You drop that word.”
“Not a chance.”
Melina gaped at him like she couldn’t believe him. Mac simply grinned back at her as he stood from the table, moved around the side, and held out his hand. Melina stared at it, hesitance weighing her pretty features down.
“I know you’re going to go with me,” Mac said.
Melina’s gaze snapped up to his. “You don’t know anything.”
“Yes, I do. You see, you might like to be the queen bitch in the room, but I get the feeling that somewhere inside you, there’s a woman who would die to have an assertive man take control.”
She swallowed hard.
“Am I right?” Mac asked.
“I haven’t found one yet that does anything like that for me,” Melina replied.
“Then maybe you should close your mouth and give me your hand, doll. While you’re at it, take a breath and get some of that heat out of your cheeks. The turned-on look is a good one to wear, especially on you, but if you’re trying to hide it, work a little harder.”
Melina’s tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip. “I—”
“Take my hand and let’s go dancing,” Mac demanded.
Her palm slid into his without a word.
With his arm tight around Melina’s waist, and his lips to her ear so she could hear him above the pounding bass of the music, Mac said, “Our guests are still around. I noticed them at the bar.”
Melina tsked under her breath. “Drinking on the job.”
