I saw Axe’s jaw go tight out of the corner of my eye and a stab of guilt went through me. What the hell was the matter with me? He’d been nothing but sweet to me this morning and I was acting like he had some communicable disease.
As he picked up the coffee and handed it to me, I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t mean to do that and that he shouldn’t feel bad. But then I snapped it shut when I realized I’d then have to follow it with an explanation of why I was acting like such a weirdo, and I barely understood it myself. So I just took the coffee and sipped at it, silent as a mouse, cursing my cowardly heart and stupid billboard of a face.
And for the second day in a row, breakfast was a lost cause.
Axe
Brenna was so flustered, it was kind of breaking my heart. Her cheeks had been pink since the moment she’d walked in the room, and now she was scarlet, trying to drink her coffee and act nonchalant even as her hands shook.
I wanted her to know that she had no reason to be scared, or this frickin’ awkward, but didn’t want to push her either. She’d been pushed enough for a lifetime.
So we just sat there, in uncomfortable silence for a while, until she stuttered, “Sh-should we check the weather… like on TV?”
Nodding, I fished around for the remote, and then handed it to Brenna. She took it hesitantly, careful not to make contact with my skin, and then flicked on the TV.
I watched as she chewed her bottom lip, flipping through the channels, avoiding my gaze. She was so tense, I was about to throw her over my shoulder, and get her back in bed to chill her out. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. I eased over, gently pulling her to my side, and she didn’t resist.
Cupping her shoulder, her wet braids tickling my arm, I asked, “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah, of course,” she said, her voice high and breathy.
I rolled my eyes and pulled her a little closer. “If you say so. By the way, you’ve gone by the weather channel twice. I think it’s back a couple.”
A squeaky laugh escaped Brenna and I chuckled too. Her body seemed to fold in on itself as it relaxed into mine. I inhaled, catching a whiff of her warm, floral scent, and shampoo.
The feeling of her soft breasts pressed against my ribs brought all sorts of memories from the night before rushing back and I swallowed a groan.
Part of me wanted to press a kiss to the side of her head and whisper something sexy, but I resisted the urge. For whatever reason, Brenna was feeling shy, and I didn’t want to make it worse for her.
I wondered if she had any inkling of how I was feeling. This morning, I’d instinctively reached for her, only to find an empty bed. I’d nearly hit the roof and darted through the suite, searching for her. It wasn’t until I heard the shower running that I’d been able to breathe.
But even those breaths were short-lived. ‘Cause man, the thought of her wet, naked body waiting for me behind that door had been very, very tempting. And as I’d entered my room and saw the messy bed – what had happened fully hit me, like a second fucking thunderbolt.
Yeah. I’m gonna marry that girl alright.
Like she’d heard my thoughts, Brenna shifted her shoulder, and lay her head down lightly on my chest. I rubbed my hand up and down her arm. This was what I wanted.
Just me and Brenna. Brenna and Angelino.
But to get there, I knew I had to man up and broach what had happened between us last night. Not only did I want to relive that amazing, mind-blowing sex – I needed to clear the air. Find out about whatever was keeping her so quiet.
Hell, I even found myself missing her incessant questions.
I slid my hand down and reached for hers, lacing our fingers together. “Listen, Brenna--”
And the fucking phone rang.
Silently vowing to dismember whoever had chosen that exact moment to call, I let her go. I stood, crossing the room to grab my phone off the side table.
Depressing the answer button, I answered with a growl. “What?”
“Oooooh, bad time, fratellino?” Colt’s smug voice sang down the line and I gritted my teeth. For some reason, I recalled the time I’d tackled Colt into the pool when we were kids, and accidentally broken his ankle. Something about that gave me a real sense of satisfaction right now. “Sorry to break up your morning with the beautiful Brenna, but we gotta talk.”
I wanted to tell him off, but instead I took a deep breath and muttered, “Shoot.”
“I’m texting you an address for a suit. You gotta leave ASAP, sorry, kid.”
“Wait, what?” I asked. “I thought Pop said to lay low?” My stomach clenched in sudden, icy terror. Had something happened at home?
Were my sisters okay?
“Relax, Axe,” Colt chuckled. “This is a good thing. Pop got in touch and the Feds want you to go in person. A lot of side-eye is goin’ down here and we’re not confident we can go to a meet without a tail. You’re already on the lam, may as well use you, right? I swear to you, that’s all it is. We’ve got it under control here.”
“You sure?” Some of the tightness in my gut had relaxed, but I still felt like Colt wasn’t telling me something.
“Yeah. Well, there’s one other thing. The suit has to interview Brenna. They won’t make a move without her direct testimony.”
And there it was.
“What?” I snarled, nearly crushing the phone in my hand.
“Yah, sorry, bro. You’re going to have to make it work.”
“I don’t like it. Not one--” I stopped short because he’d already hung up.
Son of a bitch.
“What’s going on?” Brenna asked, her brow wrinkled with concern.
Colt’s text popped up, listing a name and address in Boston, and I tried to keep my tone neutral despite the war going on in me. My brother would never steer me wrong, so I had to trust that this was the right move.
“Nothing. He likes bossing me around way too much.”
“Yeah, I noticed that. He also thinks he’s pretty smooth, doesn’t he?” Brenna commented and I glanced over at her. She raised her eyebrows. “What, you didn’t think I’d see through that slick charm?”
“No, not at all. It’s just funny to hear you call him out on it, almost like…” I trailed off. Almost like you were part of the family. Like a sister-in-law who’d been dealing with his bull for years. “Like, you’ve just known him awhile,” I finished.
“My instincts about people seem to be improving daily,” Brenna said, her smile becoming brittle. “At least I hope so.”
A sharp ache hit me. “Well, I think you’re good on that. So, hey, speaking of Colt’s phone call, we gotta go.”
“What?” Brenna, replied flicking off the TV. “Now?”
“I’ll explain in the car. No hiking today, sorry.”
She shrugged and got up, stretching. I pulled in a deep, shuddering breath as her back arched and breasts bounced. “It’s not a big deal. I can be ready in ten minutes.”
“Good.” I watched her walk towards me, then glanced over my shoulder as she walked away. Brenna looked back, saw me staring, and shot me a trusting smile.
She hadn’t even asked where we were going.
Dammit. Just when she’d started to unwind and open up, our little honeymoon was over. But at the same time, I had to admit, part of me was relieved to get this show on the road. At least now we had a direction. Some marching orders. And if this would ensure that Brenna was out of harm’s way even a day sooner, I was in. Because until she was truly safe and knew it – hell, felt it deep in her bones –Brenna wouldn’t sleep well. And neither would I.
I glanced down at my phone, fired up, surging with the same anticipation I’d felt yesterday. My Capestrana blood hadn’t cooled overnight. In fact, if anything, it was boiling hotter now. One step closer to having this all be over.
Mike Westfield. 10 Merrimack St. Boston.
I committed the address to memory as I finished packing and peered around the room, checking for anyth
ing I might have missed. Brenna was already waiting for me in the living room, her hat on, and sunglasses in place.
“So where are we going, anyway?” she asked as we headed toward the door.
“Boston, baby,” I replied. “We’re headed to Beantown.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brenna
When we walked through the doors of the FBI field office, I could feel my heart beating in my temples. My steps lagged a little and I wondered how long this would take. It had already been a hell of a day. What had started out as blissful and triumphant had insidiously spiraled into panic-mode complete with a building migraine.
As we’d driven to Boston, my general sense of well-being had faded with each passing mile, until suddenly it all blazed in front of me with stunning clarity.
I was on my way to the FBI to point a finger at one of the most notorious crime families on the east coast.
I’d lost my virginity to a mobster.
And I was half-sure I was head over heels in love with him.
To say I was scared and wishing I could hit the rewind button was an understatement.
But you can’t stop thinking about it… And him, now can you? A little voice whispered.
I shoved the thought away as a male receptionist greeted us. Right now, the last thing I should’ve been thinking about was the way Axe’s hands felt on my body.
A body that might be separated from my head and never found if I didn’t get this meeting right and ensure the Ruffinos got what was coming to them.
Jesus, I was even starting to sound like a Capestrana…
“We’re here to see Mike Westfield,” Axe muttered. He looked around and back over his shoulder, shifting from foot to foot.
Made total sense. The FBI and the Mafia weren’t exactly chums. The fact that he and his whole family had been willing to do this still blew my mind. I held that thought close to my heart as the receptionist led us into a small conference room. We sat down, each lost in our own thoughts.
The Capestranas chose to have my back – and they’d only met me once. Last night’s dinner flashed into my mind and a glow expanded like a balloon in my chest, as I relived the warmth and laughter around that table.
It was punctured abruptly as two men came in, looking severe and official in dark suits. My body went cold as I now recalled the last time I’d dealt with “men of the law” – a night filled with heartbreak and indifference.
The first man, lanky, with dark hair and a sharp face, was already sneering. The second guy was serene, and exuded a calm confidence that settled me some. He was probably as tall as or taller than Axe, with a hard, long torso like an Olympic swimmer. Messy sandy-gold hair fell into piercing green eyes, which lit up his handsome, intelligent face – and I was hard put not to admire his strong jaw and wide shoulders. He all but cancelled out the sneering guy when he smiled warmly.
In spite of myself, I started to relax and smiled back. Somehow, I sensed that he was wickedly smart underneath all those muscles. He made me think of Captain America. The super-hero to Axe’s anti-hero. The light to Axe’s dark.
I silently prayed Axe wouldn’t guess at my thoughts, but watched in stealth-mode to see how the two alpha males reacted to one another.
The sneering guy remained standing, hands on his hips. “And here I thought the Mafia was all but obsolete in New England – tucked away into little hidey-holes. Guess the cockroaches always crawl out eventually, huh?” He let out a malicious chuckle. “You’ve got some nerve, you two, coming to the Feds now that you need us to do your dirty work.”
I cringed as ours gazes met. His eyes were dark, indifferent orbs, which narrowed as he looked me up and down, and then dismissed me altogether.
Oh no, not this time.
I could sense Axe’s body going tense but before he could respond, another voice cut in smoothly.
“Take it easy, Phil,” Superhero guy said, rolling his eyes. His baritone was crisp, warm, and peppered with the last remnants of a Boston accent. “Save the insults for after we introduce ourselves.” He winked as though we were sharing a joke at the sneering guy’s expense. “I’m Agent Mike Westfield, this is my partner, Agent Phil Ellis. He’s allergic to anything not written in black and white – so just call me Mike, but you should continue to call him Agent Ellis.” Mike grinned a little, then reached over the table to shake hands with me and then Axe.
Agent Ellis scowled at Mike. “Don’t be a jackass, Mikey.”
“Don’t screw up my interview, Phil,” Mike shot back, turning in his chair. His tone was pleasant, but there was no question, his eyes had gone flat and hard. “I let you in here because you said you wanted to help. But if you’re going to antagonize these people you can leave.” With that, Mike turned back to us. “I know who you two are from a conversation with your father – Brenna Fiore, Angelino Capestrana – we have a lot of questions. This might take some time. So, why don’t we start with you, Ms. Fiore.”
“Um, where would you like to begin?” I asked, hearing my voice shake a little. I hated this story and I wasn’t looking forward to having to tell it again, but Axe’s thigh pressed against mine reassuringly.
“You claim you were kidnapped by members of the Ruffino crime organization, held against your will for approximately thirteen and a half months, to be auctioned off to the highest bidder at an event this past week – only to be rescued by this… Capestrana character,” Agent Ellis rattled off, then fixed me with a cold stare as I looked back at him. “Quite a story. Now tell me why we should believe a word of it?”
“Why the hell would she make something like that up?” Axe fired back. “What? You think my family contacted you, for shits and giggles? I was there, I saw it. It’s bad.”
“Oooh, a mobster with morals. Well, save me from a sanctimonious bastard. Crime doesn’t have a gradient, son,” Agent Ellis retorted, glaring at Axe. “And I’ll tell you why – to use us to take out the competition. This is Boston – ever heard of Whitey Bulger? That’s what he did to the Italian mob here. I’ll be damned if you think you can use federal agents as pawns in this fucked up game, no matter how pretty this little hooker might be or how sad her sob story is.”
“Say it one more time,” Axe bit out, his muscles bunching against my leg. “I’ll leap over this fucking table and—”
“That’s enough,” Mike broke in. Axe and Agent Ellis subsided, glaring daggers at each other. “Mr. Capestrana. Ms. Fiore. I apologize for my partner here. I have to admit, we were surprised to get the call initially. You have to understand – this is the first time any crime family has spoken out against the Ruffinos in Ehlrich. Emilio Ruffino is no joke – dude’s got a rap sheet that goes for miles and most of the really bad stuff isn’t even on there.” He looked from Agent Ellis to Axe. “But gents, that’s neither here nor there. Both of you need to shut up and let the lady speak.” Mike’s face went stern. “And Phil, I mean it, I’m about two seconds from throwing you out. Last warning.”
Agent Ellis folded his arms and leaned against the wall. Axe and I glanced at each other. His jaw was tight, but he nodded at me. I tried to reassure him but my face felt frozen.
Little hooker was still ringing in my ears.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on Mike. “From the beginning, then?” I asked, and he gave me an encouraging nod.
Steeling myself to get through it fast, I let it rip.
From my childhood, to my teenage years, to the kidnapping, to the year of hell within the Ruffino organization, the auction, and Axe rescuing me – I proceeded to tell the entire story. Mike’s eyes never left my face and I tried to keep looking at him. It wasn’t easy, because out of the corner of my eye I could see Axe still exchanging chilly glares with that weasley prick, Ellis.
Mike’s face had become more and more pained as I spoke. He finally looked down, ostensibly writing notes, but I could tell he was gripping his pen harder than necessary.
I had to pause once I explained how Axe rescued me, though �
� as I realized that was only a few days ago. It seemed impossible and incredible at the same time. It felt like a lifetime.
Biting my lip, I realized I could no longer envision a world without Axe and wished I could hold his hand. But I sternly reminded myself how important it was not to indicate how close we’d gotten. If I wanted the agents to take me seriously, the last thing they needed to see was me moony-eyed over a mobster. It would cast doubt on everything else I’d told them, especially in Ellis’s mind when he was so ready to judge.
And like it or not, we needed these men on our side right now.
Both of them.
“I’m sorry but what bullshit,” Agent Ellis suddenly snorted. “Why would a Capestrana give a fuck about a hooker, Mikey? Think about it. He’s a gangster, a goddamn zip.”
I didn’t know what that last word meant, but Axe swelled with rage next to me, and I braced myself, waiting for him to explode.
Luckily, Mike intervened again, rubbing his forehead as he looked at Axe. “Ignore my partner. I know about Mama Ange, I know about the trinacria agreement between the families. Back in the day, your grandmother wielded her power to get drugs and prostitution out of there, clean up the city. It was the Russians and other guys who brought it back, and it looks like Ruffino used that to his advantage.”
“Crime is crime,” Agent Ellis said. “They’re still money laundering, evading taxes, jacking cars and running chop shops.” He was starting to go purple, spluttering his words. “Don’t even get me started on that brother of his, Cosimo.”
Axe started to get up, his face twisting in rage. I tugged on his arm, trying to keep him seated. “Don’t act like you’re better than us. You’re all just as fucking crooked, you just hide behind convenient bureaucracy.”
“Ellis,” Mike snapped, “go get our guests some water and come back in five?” He suggested this evenly, but in a cold, deadly kind of voice that made my eyes widen. While Mike was clearly a good guy he was definitely not someone to be toyed with. Agent Ellis clearly knew that too because he went white before stiffly marching out of the room, grumbling to himself.
Better to Eat You Page 29
