Booze and Bullets (Brooklyn Brothers #3)

by Melanie Munton

  “And the street,” Rome added. “More than just Esposito soldiers, too.”

  “You know they’ll all be packing.” This from Luka.

  “They’d be insane to pull shit in front of the courthouse,” Cris spat.

  “Have we seen any Niners yet?” I asked.

  “Nah,” Rome grunted.

  “Not that I’ve noticed,” Ace added.

  “You’d think Benito would have placed guards back here, too,” I commented. “If this is where Raphael will actually be exposed.”

  But the area was surprisingly empty. Nothing but a small parking lot with a few cars and some dumpsters.

  “They might not be as concerned about his safety while he has guards on him,” Dad speculated. “He’ll only be walking, what, twenty feet from the van to the building?”

  I made a sound of agreement. “If that.”

  “Transpo two minutes out.”

  I spent those two minutes doing what else but thinking about Lexi. It was the one thing guaranteed to distract me, something I really couldn’t afford to be right then. My mind needed to be on the job, in the moment. Distractions led to mistakes. And in these scenarios, mistakes often meant death. We were only there to ensure that everything with Raphael’s first day on trial went smoothly, but when it involved the families, anything could happen.

  Nevertheless, Lexi’s face still popped up in mind. Her sensual striptease. Her enthusiastic blowjob. Her peaceful form sleeping in bed. That happened a week ago, but it might as well have been an hour ago for how acutely it still affected me.

  We’d been dancing around each other ever since that night. Not really arguing, but not really getting along either. We both seemed to realize how close things had come that night to getting too intimate, and we’d been tiptoeing around on eggshells to avoid another slip-up. Even fighting was a bad idea because our brand of fighting tended to have sexual undercurrents.

  I’d be honest, though. I liked pissing her off.

  Pushing her buttons got me hard.

  Another thing that got me hard?

  Sexy Lexi seemed to have a flare for voyeurism. A few mornings ago, I’d been in my bedroom, having just finished my workout and shower routine. I’d been standing beside my bed, wearing nothing but wet hair and a towel. As I was replying to an email on my phone, I’d heard a noise at my bedroom door.

  Sure as shit, Lexi had been peeking through the cracked doorway.

  Staring at me. Avidly.

  She’d looked beyond mortified at being caught and scurried off before I could get a word out.

  But I’d stood there grinning like a jackass for a solid five minutes.

  A large white van came around a corner, bringing me back to the present. It headed in my direction down the narrow street behind the courthouse.

  “Transpo has arrived.”

  I was holed up in an abandoned convenience store across the street. The small building was dirty and empty, aside from some moldy boxes and random trash bags littering the floor that I suspected homeless people and various wild life had made good use of.

  The windows were streaked with dirt, but I had a clear view of the entrance Raphael would be escorted through. As the van came to a stop, I pulled back the slide of my .45 1911 pistol. Better to be prepared with one in the chamber in case something did go down than be caught unaware. The van remained parked for several minutes, I assumed to alert the guards inside the building, as well as to mess with Raphael’s restraints.

  Moments later, the two courthouse guards exited the building and waited for Raphael to be handed off. Assisted by the two transpo guards, the boss of the New York mafia stumbled from the van, looking far older and frailer than the last time I’d seen him.

  He looked like shit.

  His once shiny black hair had been chopped off, leaving him with a haphazard buzzcut. He’d lost a good amount of weight. And even with his shackled ankles, he seemed to be hobbling more than necessary. Was he injured? Sick?

  Everything happened so fast. There wasn’t even time to think.

  The four guards met at the back of the van for the exchange—

  Shots rang out.

  Fuck!

  “Shots fired, shots fired!” I shouted.

  I just couldn’t tell where they were coming from.

  I burst out of the building, gun raised, but didn’t have a clear target to aim at. One transpo guard was already down, and the other three were scrambling for their guns and cover. I crouched behind an old ice machine just as a dark van with blacked-out windows came careening down the street. Its passengers were firing their semi-automatic weapons through the open windows. One courthouse guard tried to push Raphael behind the transpo van for cover, but a bullet struck him in the chest, felling the guard.

  “Nico!” Dad yelled in my ear. “Talk to me! What’s happening?”

  The van hadn’t reduced its speed as it continued barreling in our direction. Raising my gun and firing, I shot out windows and hit one of the front tires. Of course, this drew the shooters’ attention. I had to quickly duck behind the machine as they opened up a few rounds near my head, striking the brick and mortar building behind me instead.

  “Nico!” Cris barked.

  “Unmarked van,” I panted through the surge of adrenaline. “Multiple shooters. Two guards are down.”

  “Esposito’s men?” Rome asked, sounding out of breath, like he was running.

  “Can’t tell. They’re all wearing masks.”

  “Niners?” Ace asked frantically.

  The gang’s rogue members that had shot up the mafia summit meeting a few months ago had all been wearing masks. Were they trying to complete their revenge against the Espositos, despite their own boss’s orders?

  “Don’t know. Possibly.”

  My heart pounded furiously, but not from fear. Life and death situations like this usually happened too rapidly to stop and consider what was at stake. How much risk was involved. You just had to react, try to be smart, and hope for the best.

  With one of the front tires blown, the van’s driver lost control of the vehicle and crashed into the transpo van. When the dark van’s side door flew open, the shooters in ski masks jumped out and fired off rounds in all directions. The other two guards went down in the chaos. I got off a few more shots and might have even hit one of the bastards, but I didn’t think it was fatal.

  They went straight for Raphael and put a gun to his head.

  Goddammit.

  “Let him go!” I roared, bounding up from behind the machine with my gun raised.

  The shooters’ heads all snapped in my direction. There looked to be four of them, plus the driver, who never got out of the vehicle.

  The one who held Raphael by the back of his neck, gun barrel pressed to his temple, laughed maniacally. “Why should I? The man has killed many people, no? He’s a monster, yes? I’ll just kill him now and spare the taxpayers a lot of money to forego this trial.”

  His accent was odd. He was clearly trying to disguise his real voice.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I shouted back. “Justice has to be served for all the crimes he’s committed. The law determines his punishment from here on out, not you.”

  They all laughed this time. Raphael’s back was turned to me so I couldn’t see his face. Was the man scared for his life?

  “We make the laws in our world!” the shooter bellowed, still laughing. “We serve our own justice. Surely, you can understand that, Rossetti. This is your world now as much as it is ours and as much as it his.”

  They know who I am.

  My finger itched to squeeze the trigger. I didn’t give two shits if this guy wanted Raphael dead or what his beef with the families was. They’d just shot four innocent men. People who had families. Families who were relying on them to come home in one piece tonight.

  “Death would be too quick for him,” I said in hard voice. “He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

  Where the hell were a
ll the cops that were patrolling the front of the courthouse? Hadn’t they heard the gunfire? Shouldn’t they have been converging on these son of bitches by now?

  The shooter yanked Raphael back, using him as a human shield as they made their way toward the van. “Sorry, but we can’t let that happen. He’s got debts to settle before he gets off scot free. And we’re going to make sure he fulfills every last one.”

  “Stop!”

  Ignoring me, the four of them hauled Raphael into the back of the van. I popped off some rounds at the tires, hoping I’d at least be able to eliminate their transportation. That’s when the driver, who I’d nearly forgotten about, rolled down his window and fired off three quick shots in my direction.

  One clipped my shoulder.

  The force of the impact slammed my back into the brick wall.

  Shit, that burns.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I vaguely heard one of the men yell. “You know we’re supposed to leave them all alive!”

  “Bastard still looks alive to me,” the driver spat.

  My disorientation gave the driver enough time to put the van in reverse and speed off down the street, leaving their front bumper and a trail of carnage in their wake.

  No. Fucking. Way that just happened.

  “Nico!” Cris snapped in my ear. “What the fuck’s going on, man?”

  “Ace, alert the cops. Dark van, blacked-out windows, dented front bumper. No license plate. Five shooters. They just made off with Esposito.” I ran across the street to where the four guards lay. “And get a fucking ambulance back here now!”

  I grunted through the fiery pain in my shoulder as I bent down to check the first guard’s pulse.

  Dead.

  Same with the second.

  The third one’s pulse was there, but it was faint. I wasn’t sure he was going to make it.

  The fourth man actually had his eyes open as he put pressure on a wound in his side. I whipped off my suit jacket and helped him press it against the bleeding hole.

  “You’re gonna be all right, man. Help’s on the way.”

  He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. “They take Esposito?”

  I glanced down the street, the dark van long fucking gone. “Yeah. They did.”

  The New York boss was no longer in police custody.

  I prayed to God those assholes actually did kill him.

  Because Raphael Esposito had a massive score to settle with my family.

  And if he managed to get free of them, all of our lives would be in jeopardy.

  Did he take a blowjob and run?

  Was that what Nico’s silence—and avoidance—over the past week had been about? Endeavoring to treat me like all of his past conquests? Since he wasn’t a complete fool, he had to realize eventually that wasn’t going to work forever.

  Obviously, whatever I’d felt between us down in that booze bunker had been entirely one-sided.

  It hadn’t just been about sex to me, which yes, I knew sounded naïve and cliché. There was some type of connection between us. Something unsaid had been developing on a covert basis over the last two weeks. Down in that booze bunker, I thought I’d felt it strengthening, intensifying.

  Now, I knew that had all been nothing more than silly, girlish notions.

  For Nico, the whole experience had merely been about getting his nut. Except for the fact that we were temporarily bound together—more like shackled—I was no different than all the ones who had come before me.

  I was lying on my towel that I’d spread out on the back patio, my feet dangling in the pool, when I heard the faint sound of a door slamming shut over the music coming through my earbuds.

  I’d been going for daily swims in the pool since I’d arrived. Something about the water had always comforted me, made me feel oddly safe. Although, it had lately served as a stress reliever more than anything else, and today’s swim had been a doozy. My arms and legs had sliced through the water so many times that my muscles had been burning by the time I’d called it quits.

  The next door to slam shut was the patio door, drawing a deep sigh from me. Since he’d been avoiding me all day, this surely wasn’t going to be good. Ripping out my earbuds, I tore my eyes away from the twilight sky to face him.

  And stilled.

  I expected to see him standing there. What I didn’t expect was the ferocious, menacing expression.

  Aimed right at me.

  I leaned up on my elbows and watched him stomp across the patio, never once taking his eyes off me. His appearance was haggard, to say the least. His hair was tangled, half of it hanging loose of his rubber band. His white button-down was untucked and wrinkled, his slacks dirty and stained. His face was wan with exhaustion, his eyes tired.

  And was that…blood on his shoulder?

  I waited for him to explain what the hell was happening, but he never unclenched his jaw enough to speak. Before I could even get a word out, he stepped into the pool, fully clothed.

  Without the slightest pause in his movements, he descended the steps until the water reached his waist, eyes remaining locked on me. He was breaking through the surface so forcefully that water crashed against his body, creating small waves in the pool. I’d never seen the golden fires in his eyes blaze so hot.

  He was like a shark stalking its prey.

  The closer he came, the better look I got at his shoulder. Definitely blood. My wariness rocketed up to alarm in an instant.

  “What happened to you?” I demanded. “Are you all right?”

  He said nothing.

  Just continued to wade through the water at an unrelenting speed. That’s when I noticed those fires in his eyes weren’t being fueled by mere anger or even lust—they were burning with rage.

  And resolve.

  And maybe…possession?

  His footsteps never faltered until he stopped directly in front of me and positioned himself between my legs. Still, he remained silent. Then again, his body was doing all the talking for him.

  I just needed to figure out a way to translate it.

  “Nico?” My voice was shaky. I’d never seen him this undone before, and it was freaking me out. “What’s going on? Talk to m—”

  My words ended on a gasp when his hands grasped my thighs and shoved them wide. And in the black and white bikini I was wearing, there wasn’t much to cover me down there. Nico’s eyes glazed over as he stared at my barely-covered sex. I swallowed back my rising nerves as that penetrating gaze pinned me in place. I was frozen under his piercing perusal.

  “Krasotka,” he whispered.

  My lungs seized. The Russian word meant “beautiful” or “beautiful girl.” “I didn’t think you spoke my language.”

  He lightly petted my swimsuit bottoms, right over my entrance. “I don’t. But I figured I should at least know how to tell you that you’re beautiful in your native tongue. The most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Where the hell had this guy been hiding? And where was all this coming from?

  He didn’t bother waiting for a response. He placed his hand in the center of my chest and shoved me backward until I was lying flat on my back again.

  My bottoms were yanked to the side.

  My thighs lifted up.

  My slick folds licked.

  “Oh, God.”

  Nico’s guttural groan vibrated against my flesh as the flat of his tongue dragged along my slit. It danced along my lips, driving me crazy when he hit pressure points along the way but gave nothing more than teasing swipes. Oh, the man knew what he was doing, all right. He hadn’t learned how to use his tongue in such toe-curling fashion without copious amounts of practice.

  He reached my clit, laving it at first with gentle strokes, as if revering it. Then he mercilessly wrapped his lips around it and sucked it into his expert mouth, sending my hips arching up into the air. He tightened his grip on my thighs, keeping me stationary, without letting up on his ministrations. He rolled his tongue over the bundl
e of nerves several times, driving me absolutely out of my mind.

  “Nico…” I was breathless, senseless. “That’s so good.”

  Tension coiled in my belly as the pressure built. My hands slapped onto the concrete, my fingers curling inward, but there were no sheets to clutch. I needed something. As if sensing my frustration, Nico reached up with one hand, snagged both of my wrists, and placed my hands on top of his head.

  My eyes found his.

  Those infernos raged on as scorching and decimating as ever.

  Sliding my fingers through his hair, I held onto the roots as he worked his tongue inside. Not with a swift thrust as I would have expected. No, he was far too perceptive and experienced for any clumsy techniques. He gave attention to every inch he covered, massaging my inner walls with that rolling tongue motion again.

  He’s going to kill me with the rolling.

  The moment he got as deep as he could, he added a finger and began to drive it in opposition with his tongue.

  One in, one out.

  In, out.

  I didn’t even know how he was managing such a feat. It was like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time. And when he added his thumb to my clit, I was gone. My thighs started shaking on either side of his head. His tongue and digits moved more determinedly. The force of my approaching climax almost scared me, I’d never felt one so powerful before.

  I even tried to push him away at one point because there was so much sensation.

  Of course, he wasn’t having that.

  It felt like my mind was splintering into pieces. I didn’t know how to control the eruption that was coming, didn’t know if I even wanted to.

  “Blyad’! Nico!”

  My back bowed off the ground as I crashed into my orgasm at deadly speeds. His groans matched my screams as both carried on the chilly night breeze. Everything below my waist seized in rapture for about three seconds before the dam burst wide open and the world turned inside out.

  The earth didn’t just tilt on its axis.

  It tipped the fuck over and fell off its axis.

  Despite feeling boneless, I somehow managed to prop myself back up on my elbows. Nico rested his forehead against my inner thigh, reminding me of how I’d done the same thing the night in the booze bunker.