Patriot and his Secret Baby (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 1)

by Avery Hawkes

  I took a deep breath and stepped toward the open garage door to see who was coming down the road. I stepped out and squinted.

  “Dammit,” I muttered to myself. “This doesn’t look good.”

  Two Italian sports cars were racing down my road. The only people I knew in town who drove those kind of cars, that fast, were Rossi’s.

  Casually, I walked over to the front desk like I hadn’t seen them. Behind the register was a small handgun, just in case someone tried to rob the store. My Dad was always prepared for the worst. He probably didn’t imagine it would be used against members of the Italian Mafia.

  I leaned to grab the gun out of the line-of-sight from the windows, then tucked it into the back of my waistband. My shirt was loose enough that it hid the shape of the firearm if I had to turn my back to them.

  Straightening myself, I waited for them to close in on the shop. It was funny, I would have thought I’d be scared with two Mafia vehicles flying toward me, but I was more miffed than anything. There was no knowing what was coming, but I knew that I was formidable for any enemy in battle.

  Adrenaline pumped through my veins when I heard their breaks hit and bring their cars to a halt. Dust clouds rose up behind them from the dry, kicked up gravel.

  My arms crossed against my chest and I leaned on the garage door casually. Whatever they knew or wanted from me, I was ready to face them like a man.

  The doors flew open and I watched as Rosabella’s father, the leader of the Rossi family, stepped out. His eyebrows were stern as they set on me. In the other vehicle, was Matteo, Rosa’s jack-ass older brother. There were no other family members or mafia members to speak of. Doors slammed behind them.

  “How can I help you gentlemen?” I asked, trying to act as normal as possible. There was no way I was going to back down to them or show any kind of weakness. I smiled, but they didn’t return the favor. Both were making a beeline for me, their faces stern … like stone. I was afraid they were just going to run into me in an attack, but they stopped a few feet away from me. First, they’d use intimidation to get what they wanted.

  “Is this your shop?” Mr. Rossi, the father, asked.

  “I’m not the owner, but I can answer any questions you might have. Looks like you two are in a hurry to get something. What can I do you for?”

  “Don’t get cute with us,” the oldest brother sneered, “We know you―" He was cut off by his father, who had placed a hand on his shoulder. Matteo looked like he hadn’t grown out of his hot-headed ways, and his father still had to tell him when to stand down. Like a dog.

  I raised my eyebrows, waiting, acting like I had no idea what they were going on about. It was partially true that I didn’t quite know what they wanted from me, but I had a few ideas based on what I had gleaned from Rosa.

  “This morning, my daughter, Regina came in to pick up her car.”

  I blinked, Regina had walked in with a hoodie and some sweatpants. I had been afraid she would bring her meat-head boyfriend or make a fuss, but it was an easy transaction. There was even some sharing of info about what I had done and what should be updated next time she comes in.

  “Had a few people pick up their cars this morning, yes.”

  “She had a car much like this one,” her father said, placing a hand on the hood of his Maserati.

  “I remember,” I nodded toward them. “A beautiful car.”

  “Am I correct when I say she brought the car in for a replaced battery?”

  Confusion flashed across my face and I saw they weren’t expecting that. Clearing my throat, I tried to think quickly. Regina wanted to cover her tracks and probably made up an excuse that was plausible.

  “Yeah, sorry I get a lot of dead batteries in, they all sort of meld together. I also checked her breaks and made sure her oil was full.” They both became tense. The father looked to the son, and then back at me. It was more than freaky.

  “Is there a reason you were asking?” I asked.

  “After she had picked up the car …,” Mr. Rossi said, “She lost control of her vehicle. The police checked, and it looked like her brakes were tampered with on purpose.”

  He left it out there, in the air. They watched my reaction closely, as I knew they would. What mattered was keeping my cool, even if I didn’t expect anything out of their mouths. I thought they had figured out about the baby. It would have been better if they had.

  Her father would probably be happier to welcome a baby to the family rather than think I had tried to take one of his kid’s lives. It bothered me even more that Regina’s car had lost control because of the brakes. When I had tested them, they had worked perfectly. Hell, they would last a year or so without getting them tested again. There was no way they would just give out. Since I didn’t tamper with them, she must have done it herself or had someone do it between here and the accident. Or maybe, just maybe, someone else wanted the girl dead. But I had to say something and say it fast, before they started getting antsy.

  “You don’t think that I have anything to do with that?”

  You tell us,” Matteo spoke up. His voice made me want to punch his nose in, but I held back. It was something about him that was always so entitled. He had money, a family with connections, a job on his lap, power. He’d always had that and didn’t know what the world was like outside his castle walls. It worked against him and I knew that I had an upper hand. Leaving for the Marines had changed me, giving me a new look on the world.

  “I checked everything twice, the brakes worked perfectly. I have the paperwork if you’d like to see it ….”

  “It’s bullshit and you know it,” the younger man growled. He wasn’t one to waste time.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Well, you can start by fessing up what you did,” he shot back. This was going nowhere. The father watched us through slitted eyes. He was seeing how I handled myself.

  “I don’t know how to prove to you that I didn’t do it. I’m sure you could ask some of your other family members and they could vouch for me.”

  “Like Rosa?” Matteo said. He wanted to bring up our old high school wounds. I shrugged.

  “It’s been a long time since high school, Matteo, I’ve changed since then.”

  The Father glanced over at his son with a question, but he answered it before words could be spoken.

  “This piece of shit was the one who broke Rosa’s heart six years ago. Just up and left. She cried for two months straight.”

  Damn it, that hurt. Had Rosabella really cried for that long over me? I had imagined being just a headache to her, causing fights with her brothers, but had she really cared that much.

  Shame flowed through me. I wished I could go back in time to right my wrongs.

  “So you hurt both of our girls then?” Mr. Rossi stepped forward. Something in his face had gone from questioning to sure and I knew at that moment I was fucked. My hand flew behind me and I ducked behind a bench into the garage. As soon as I had moved a finger, they reached for their own hidden guns. They fired on the spot I had just been. Bullets hit the back wall, busting holes in the building. I wasn’t looking forward to the repairs if I lived through this.

  Quickly, I moved deeper into the garage. There was a back door that I could flee toward if I needed to. For now, cover was what I wanted.

  There was an old beater near the back of the garage that had been my Dad’s pet project for years. Keeping alert, I quickly made my way over, staying as low as I possibly could. I could hear the sounds of leather shoes hitting the gravel, they were getting in place near the entrance of the opening. When I had the cover from the car, I breathed a sigh of relief. There was a straight shot to the door, so as long as I kept them off I would have cover to flee if I ran out of bullets.

  Suddenly, Matteo popped out from the entrance and started shooting at me. One whizzed past my head and I returned his fire to make him duck back behind the wall. As soon as he left, his father replaced him, firing a
t me.

  I grimaced and ducked. Two against one. At least it was a fair fight.

  Another barrage of bullets sprayed the back wall. When I looked up next, Matteo had entered the garage and took cover near the bench. This was my chance. I didn’t want to kill the guy, so I aimed low. He was able to scramble away as soon as I pulled the trigger.

  Mr. Rossi moved next and I hesitated to take the shot. Even with a gun in his hand, that man was the grandfather to my child. Being soft was going to leave me dead on the floor of the garage, so I shot in his direction, then swept my gun back over to keep Matteo down. I was going to have to take one of them out hand-to-hand, so my attention wasn’t split 180 degrees. My feet shuffled, over toward Matteo, I knew about him and his fighting style, so it was the safer choice. I ducked my head so neither could get a good shot, then quickly crawled over toward the younger man. I had to do this right if I wanted to live through the next couple minutes. Letting myself pause at the end of the car, I took a deep breath before turning around and taking three shots and then rolling forward.

  Matteo was caught off guard, having no place to get clear cover. I didn’t want to kill him so I aimed at his feet. He shot at me, but after one bullet, he was out of shots. He swore and reached for more ammo, but we both knew it was too late. I hit him upside the head with the butt of my gun. He fell to the ground, groaning from the injury. His pistol was on the floor next to him. I picked it up and reloaded it, then looked for Mr. Rossi.

  For an old man he was quick. As soon as he noticed my gaze stray from Matteo he was at the other end of the old beater. Fuck, he was closer than I thought.

  “Your son is down,” I yelled. “If you want him to live, give up your weapon.” No, I wasn’t going to kill the guy, but disarming him was worth a shot.

  “Do it,” the man yelled back, “and your death will be slow.”

  This guy wasn’t messing around. It was possible that I could kill his son, but he called my bluff. I gritted my teeth and took aim.

  When he rose from the car to shoot at me, I fired, barely missing his ear. He didn’t waver and shot back. One bullet cut through my shirt and grazed my arm. Red started to bleed through my shirt, but I paid it and the pain no heed.

  WAM.

  I felt a foot connect with my stomach. This time, the pain was too great for me to ignore. Matteo had regained consciousness and sent his foot flying from below. I doubled over and swore. No. This was it. A second of showing weakness was the difference between living and dying when you were at war.

  Home was supposed to be the place where I could relax and not worry about being killed. However, this place was more dangerous than the desert of Afghanistan. There was no way I was dying here.

  I tried to straighten myself, but this time my face was met with a fist. My body turned and hit the ground. The gun went off, but the bullet lodged into the ceiling.

  Matteo slammed his foot into my wrist and pressed it into the concrete. If he applied any more pressure, it would break. My fingers instinctively let go of the gun and he grabbed it from me.

  “Got ‘em boss,” Matteo said, a cocky grin on his face. He aimed the gun straight for my face. “Should I kill him?”

  His father casually walked from behind the car, placing the gun back in its holster near his armpit.

  “Go ahead. But we’ll need to get some men to clean the mess up.” With that, he turned and started walking out of the garage.

  Above me, Matteo cocked the gun and aimed straight between my eyes.

  “This is for my sister,” he growled.

  I braced myself for the end.

  “Wait!” A voice called from outside of the garage, “Don’t shoot him! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  It was the voice of the club owner, Luca.

  “Jesus Christ, what are you two, animals?”

  I saw him now in the garage, his shiny leather shoes gleamed in the light of the setting sun.

  “He pulled a gun on us, he’s definitely our guy.”

  “Really?” Luca said, giving his brother a push. Matteo lowered his gun, and my head fell back in relief.

  “Please tell me,” the man went on, “what evidence do you have that he was the one who cut the wire, hmm? Could it be that he was scared shitless that two thugs―yes, Father, THUGS, showed up at his place of work?”

  “I will not be disrespected by my own son.” His father hissed from the front of the garage. My eyes looked from the fighting family members to the back door. It was only a few feet away. If I made a run for it and was able to get out, I could run into the forest and have a good lead on them. The hills around the area was rough and I was used to rocky terrain. If I could get down to the diner at the other side of the forest, I could probably catch a ride out of this shit-hole of a town. A pang of guilt hit me. Rosa, what about her? Would I just up and leave her, or would we still be able to get married?

  At this point, I just wanted to live through her family. As they bickered over me, I slowly made my way over toward the door. I stayed in the ground and slid using my hands. I would have to time it perfectly, maybe push one of the brothers into the other to create a distraction so they wouldn’t be able to shoot me right off the bat.

  "This is none of your business, Luca," Matteo yelled. "Get out of my face and let me finish this!"

  Only a few more feet and I'd be able to kick at Luca's shins. I froze when Matteo motioned over to me with his gun.

  "Yes, Luca, you have other work to do." their father said. You could tell by his voice that his patience was running thin. The man twisted around and shook his head.

  "Okay, I'm seeing something here that you both are missing. If―and that's a BIG IF―my guy here is the one who messed with Regina's car, what is his motive? Hrm? Getting a piece of lead put between his eyes? Don't you think it's rather strange that he'd do something like that without some amount of coaxing?"

  The wheels in their mind were starting to turn and the men looked unsure. Mr. Rossi walked up to the two men, rubbing one of his temples with his hand.

  "You are both giving me a headache," he grumbled. The oldest twin placed his hands on his hips and gave his father an incredulous look. They stared each other down for a second, a battle of wills going on in their expressions. Finally, Mr. Rossi's shoulders slumped a bit. He caved.

  "Fine, fine. Take him to warehouse 3 and deal with the interrogation there," he told Matteo. For a second, they all had their backs facing me. This was my time to shine.

  With all my might, I kicked out and caught Luca in the shin, sending him flying into his father. They yelled out in surprise, but I paid them no attention. All I could see was the door. That was freedom from whatever twisted things they had in mind for me. It was my only option.

  Scrambling, I got to my feet and bolted for the wooden door. When I got to it I tried the handle, it was locked. Getting it open would be as easy as turning the deadbolt, but those were precious seconds I did not have. In any case, I turned the lock and gave the door a tug, only to have hands grab me from behind before I could get the door open.

  They pushed me to the ground and I grunted as several kicks hit me in the stomach. I curled into the fetal position on the ground, unable to fight back. They were yelling at each other again, but I couldn't understand anything they were saying, all my body was focusing on was protecting itself from the beating it was receiving. Fuck. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to break for it.

  The kicks were relentless, from more than one of them. I yelled out in pain as one of them hit my kidneys with so much force I was starting to see stars in my vision. Just as the pain seemed like too much, I felt a sharp jab to my head.

  Everything went black.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lance

  I floated in and out of consciousness. When I woke up, everything was still dark. For a second, I thought that the hit to the head had left me blinded. However, I noticed after a few deep breaths that it was actually a cloth that had been placed o
ver my head. A dark sack was over my face and I had no idea where I was or how much time I had left.

  The place I had been hit on the head was throbbing. If I lived through this, there'd probably be a huge bump on my head for days. I couldn't even begin to imagine the bruising I had received on my stomach and sides. My head lifted and I tried to move my body. I was sitting upright, slumped on a chair. My legs were tied to the chair and my hands were bound behind me. I wiggled them, trying to see if I could get free if I positioned my arms or legs differently.

  It was no use. As I wiggled I realized that I had been quickly bound by zip-ties, but it would take a while to get out of them, if I could do it. A feeling of cool air brushed against my skin, I realized that they had stripped me down to my wife beater and underwear. Being exposed like that made me even more uncomfortable, they wanted to tell me that they were in charge, that they had the power to strip me of anything, including my life.

  As I tried to find my bearings and get out of my restraints, the black bag that covered my face was pulled up over my head. Right in front of me was Matteo. I blinked and winced as my eyes adjusted to the fluorescent light in the room. The man in front of me was sitting in a metal chair, similar to the one I was in. He looked tired and had a cigarette in his mouth. Matteo placed the bag on a table next to him, then took a drag from his cigarette. A cloud of smoke filled my face and I closed my eyes so they wouldn't water.

  When the cloud had passed, I looked around at my surroundings. I was in a large warehouse that looked like it had been in disuse for a long time. The windows had been blacked out with paint, and there were large crates covered in tarps. It was large enough to fit a 747, but most of the space was empty. There was an upper floor, with a walkway that lead to an exit, probably to the roof or another adjacent building. Other than the two large doors in the front, there were no places close enough for me to get away. Even if I did try to get away, I didn't know if the place was guarded from the outside.