Sweet Pain: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 3)
Page 6
“—my old apartment.”
I smiled at her.
She rolled her eyes. Went on with her statement. “You threw your stuff all over my floor. Ended up jamming your foot on the base of my bed. Are you messy?”
Oh. I snorted. I shook my head. “No. I was just pushing your buttons. I clean up after myself like the grown-ass man I am. I am also smart enough to employ a fabulous housekeeper and chef. You won’t be tripping over dirty socks or underwear. Unless we lose track of them while we’re getting naked.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.
She laughed. Nodded. “Good. Clutter irritates me. I’d hate to have to kill you this early into moving in together.”
I snorted. “We might kill each other, but that will be death by ridiculously great sex. Not anger or irritation.” I smiled. “Not to say we won’t want to kill each other, but we’re adults. We can work out whatever the issue is.”
The elevator dinged and the door slid open with a quiet sigh. It took some finagling, but we managed to get everything out and the door only tried to close on us once. I was calling it a win.
We wheeled and schlepped all of her stuff into the bedroom. I hoisted it up on the bed. Soon, I could barely see the duvet.
We walked back to the elevator. I shook my head as we made our way back down to the garage. She snuggled up to my side, wrapped her arms around me. We waited in silence.
I sighed as I pressed my lips to her head. This easy comfort was my idea of heaven. She knew the worst of me and still cozied up. I knew the worst of her and still ached to have her beside me.
I wasn’t stupid enough to think it would always be smooth sailing, but having that solid base of trust? I’d never had it before. Never knew it could be so freeing. Vulnerability had been something to push aside and deny at all costs. Never something to be reveled in and appreciated.
The doors dinged open. We held hands as we headed out to the SUV. A heaviness in the air drew my attention before we got too far. That sense of excited expectation I could feel dancing across the back of my neck had me coming to a quick stop.
I pulled Willow back into the car with me. I slammed the button to close the doors and inserted the key to disable the elevators from outside use. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I brought up the SUV’s command panel. Hit the button for the garage cameras.
“What’s going on?” Willow asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I wasn’t going to stand out in the open while I tried to figure it out.” I angled the phone’s screen so she could see. I panned the cameras back and forth.
Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. At least to me. “See anything weird?”
Willow leaned forward, practically shoved her nose onto the screen. She shook her head. Stilled. “Back up. My luggage. I think something is missing.”
I put a palm on her forehead and eased her to the side. I zoomed in on her pile of remaining luggage. I didn’t think anything was different, but it also wasn’t my stuff.
“Shit, hero. My gun bag is missing.” She looked up at me. Her sage green eyes were wide. “We need to call the police. There couldn’t have been a ton of time between getting in the elevator and coming back down.”
I winced, shook my head. “No. There wasn’t. But I had the cameras off from before. I didn’t turn them back on until just now.” I wanted to punch myself in the face. We hadn’t been out of danger, and I’d left us unprotected. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She slapped a hand to her head. “Oh, duh. Can I borrow your phone?” She took it out of my hands before I could say anything.
She pulled up the keypad. Dialed a number. Punched the speaker button so I didn’t have to press my ear to hers.
“Calling already? Need a pick up?” Rafe asked, a laugh colored his words.
I growled.
So did Willow. “No, you turd face. Someone jacked my gun bag. Is the transmitter in it still working?”
I startled. She had her guns low-jacked? That was so fucking hot. The idea of my professional baker toting around chipped guns made my last orgasm nothing but a memory. I wanted her beneath me again right now.
“I’ll have to get Massi. He does most of that. Hang on,” Rafe said.
I pulled Willow into my arms. Grinded my hardening dick against her hips. “I want to take you shooting. I’ve got a private range,” I whispered in her ear.
She slapped at me, a huge smile on her face. “Perv. At least wait until I get off the phone.”
I shoved my hips against her harder. “Are you sure?” I reached up, palmed one of her breasts. Pinched the nipple.
Her whining moan was like throwing an accelerant on the fire in my blood.
“For shit’s sake, you two. Keep it in your pants,” Rafe said over the speaker. “I don’t need a boner thinking about either one of you.” He made retching sounds.
I reached out with my free hand, stabbed the mute button. I fisted a hand in my girl’s hair, wrenched her head back. Attacked her mouth. Sweet fuck, I felt like I was in my teens again. Hair trigger and all.
“Which case?” a whispered voice came over the line. “Hello?”
I yanked myself off Cupcake’s mouth. My breaths caused the fine hairs along her temple to shiver and shake.
“Are you sure they’re still on the line?” Mas asked.
“Fucking hell! You two called us. Get out of her pants long enough to give us the information, you idiot. Unless you want Willow’s guns to be used in a crime and have her get arrested,” Rafe snarled over the phone.
That was a bucket of freezing water on my libido. I tapped the mute button again, turning it off. “Sorry. We were discussing something private.”
Rafe snorted. “Right. Here’s Massi.”
“Which case, Will?” he asked.
“At least the Ruger. Maybe the Smith and Wesson. I split them up for better handling. But right now I couldn’t tell you which one was put in what bag. I know the other guns are safe. I grabbed them in the first round of luggage removal.” She thumped her fist to her forehead softly. “Sorry. Not very good responsible gun owner actions on that one.”
“Do you need another lesson?” Mas asked. There was a darker cast to his tone that I’d never heard when talking to one of the women in his family. I’d only ever heard it when he’d interrogated me.
Willow stiffened. “No. I’ll be more careful, Mas. I promise.”
I looked down at her, raised an eyebrow.
She shook her head, waved it away. “Can you track the Ruger’s case?”
Mas heaved a sigh, the sound fractured and gravelly. “Yes. I’ve turned it on. I’m waiting for the link to go through. Do not be so careless in the future, Will. Guns are not toys.”
Willow seemed to curl in on herself. Shrank away from the reproach of her adopted brother.
I gritted my teeth. “It’s my fault. I distracted her. If anyone deserves to get in trouble, it’s me,” I spoke up.
Willow shook her head. A sad smile on her beautiful mouth. “That doesn’t absolve my error, Ryker. But thank you.”
“Indeed it does not. If you have a gun, it is always your responsibility to know where it is. Distractions happen all the time. Do not carry a gun if you cannot care for it appropriately. Or do you need a lesson in gun ownership as well, Penn?” The threat, though whispered, was as clear as a voice over a loudspeaker in a small room.
Willow looked up at me. Her eyes huge. She shook her head quickly.
“No. I’m good, thank you.”
A low beeping came over the line. “I’ve found the signal’s location. Did you still have it securely stored in the biometric case?” Mas asked.
Willow nodded immediately. “I might have been forgetful, but I’m not stupid, Mas. Yes. It’s securely stored.” There wasn’t even a hint of the sass I’d have expected in that statement.
“Good. Then perhaps your mistake can be forgiven. I’ll send you the link. We will begin heading that way.”
“What about the
police?” I asked.
Willow smirked.
“Contrary to recent actions, we do not go running to the police with all of our problems, Penn. This we can handle quietly and quickly if they are not there to muddy our particular waters,” Mas said.
My phone beeped with an incoming text. I pulled it from Willow’s hands. “We’ll see you at the end of the rainbow.” I disconnected the call. Switching apps, I pulled up the satellite link Mas had sent.
“It’s less than a mile away.” I grabbed Willow’s hand. “Let’s go.”
I unlocked the elevator, strode to the car. “I’ll lock this down so no one else can get in here. We’ll take a different car.” I walked to the secured, recessed keybox on the wall. Punching in my PIN, I grabbed up a set of keys to my Audi.
As I got Willow settled in the front passenger seat, I took out my phone again. Hit the speed dial for Penn Towers’ front desk. “Hello, this is Ryker Penn. Please send someone to the private garage and have the rest of the stuff taken to the penthouse.”
“Of course, sir. Anything else I can help you with?” the woman asked.
“No. That’s it. Thank you.” I disconnected as I slid behind the wheel. “Front desk is going to take the rest of your stuff up.”
Willow chuckled. “You had staff who could have taken it all up for us?”
I reversed the car and answered. “They’re not my personal staff, and I don’t treat them as such. But in this case, with us leaving, I’m willing to blur those lines.”
I slowed to check traffic before I zipped out into it. Hitting a button on my steering wheel, I told my car and my phone to link up. “Display directions.”
“Displaying directions. Please use caution when driving,” the dulcet tones of the automated assistant reminded me.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Turn left onto Pennsylvania Avenue.”
I obligingly turned the corner.
“Your destination is ahead on your right.”
Slapping off the nav system, I eased the car to the curb as we waited for Rafe and Mas to show up. “Any guesses on who took it?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Willow shake her head. “Not a clue. And why would they only steal one bag?”
I shrugged. “What size is it?”
She held her hands out in a rough shape that could possibly hold three shoeboxes depending on their size. “Bigger than a train case, smaller than a carry on.”
I felt my belly unwind itself. “So something easy to carry and fairly easy to conceal.”
“I guess. I’m not really the flashy luggage kind of girl, so it could just look like a boxy briefcase to the untrained eye.”
I chuckled. My girl definitely was low-key when it came to her luggage preferences. I’d almost expected the full line of Louis Vitton or Coach bags when I went back into her apartment to start getting her stuff down to the garage. I’d been shocked to find them a metallic looking silver. Very innocuous and relatively common, if I wasn’t mistaken.
A black Ford Fusion nosed in behind my Audi. “Guys are here.”
Willow pushed her door open and was standing on the street before I could stop her. I glared at her over the low roof of the car. “Me first. You don’t come out until I know you’re going to be safe.”
Rafe walked up beside me. Shook his finger in her face over the top of the car. “Yeah, little girl. You haven’t lived with the big bad mafia for eighteen months or anything. How dare you presume to know how to take care of yourself?”
I was this close from punching him in the face.
His brother handled that for me. Although it was a solar plexus hit instead of his handsome face. “Don’t play with her safety. Penn is right to make sure he’s the one to suffer the agony of a stray bullet. Not our Willow. Not any of our women.”
Rafe wheezed for a few moments as he leaned one hand against my car’s roof. “Fuck, Massi. I was kidding.”
Mas shook his head. “There is no room for kidding when it comes to safety. When it comes to protecting those of our family. If you don’t know this, then perhaps you should stay at home until you are called.” When he looked at his phone’s screen, I noticed the corners of his eyes clench and relax as if he were in some kind of pain. “The case has not moved. Let’s proceed. Stay behind me.” He glared at Willow. “I will not be so kind as your man.”
She dipped her chin. “Sorry.”
Mas shook his head. “It is not me to whom you should apologize.” He walked up onto the curb, eased against the side of the building.
Willow looked up at me. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
I nodded. Bit back the rush of other caustic words that wanted to spring from my mouth. I pushed her ahead of me to lean against the building with Mas.
Rafe brought up the rear of our little attack team. He was rubbing his upper abdomen, glaring at his older brother.
Mas didn’t even bother to look back. He was busy doing a visual search of the building across the alley from us. While this section of town wasn’t in deplorable condition, it really wasn’t inside the glitz and glam of our Downtown section with all its fancy bars, clubs, and shops.
We weren’t as crowded as the City, but we had our fair share of wealth who couldn’t be bothered to use the train. Our town was smaller, and as such, more exclusive. Which made this particular building a bit of an eyesore that hadn’t quite made it through regentrification yet.
Mas held up his hand, palm flat. He flicked it in a move that suggested we should move forward with him.
I grabbed hold of Willow’s hand. Kept her close to me. If need be, I could drag her under me and protect her that way. I just prayed to her goddess that it wouldn’t come to that.
Ahead of us, Mas curled his hand down into a fist.
We all stopped.
He pointed to his ear, cocked his head sideways.
I held my breath, strained my ears. There. I could hear someone talking in a low voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but it was definitely a male speaking.
A high-pitched maniacal laugh punctured the silence. Chills ran up my spine at the pure, unadulterated crazy in the chuckle. Mental instability and two guns? No. Not today.
I had to get Willow out of here.
I looked over my shoulder. Counted the number of steps we’d taken. How many more it would take to get her back in the car and for me to get us home. How much time? Five minutes? Three?
Mas jabbed a hand into my sternum. He leaned up. “This ends here. Do not pussy out now.” He eased back down, gave me steady eye contact. “I will not let anything happen to my sister. But she is going to be the only one to verify the guns are hers, if this person has them.”
I gritted my teeth. Acknowledged the truth of his statement. If this guy had Willow’s guns, she would know. The reverse was also true. Fuck. She had to be here.
Please let this guy have the guns so we can get this shitshow settled.
I nodded. “I’ll follow your lead.”
He nodded back at me and then turned to Willow. “You will wait here with Rafe. Do not come after us. Do you understand me?”
The band around my chest relaxed. Yes. This was better. She was out of danger. This was so much better.
Willow nodded first at Mas, then turned and did the same for me. “I won’t be a problem you have to worry about.” She squeezed my fingers before letting her hand slide away.
I tapped Mas’ shoulder when I was ready. I had no weapon, and right now, that felt both horribly wrong and terribly right. I sent another prayer upwards. This time for Mas and me.
We stepped into the alley. Ducked behind a giant dumpster. The wafting stench was enough to have my lungs seizing and my eyes watering. Fucking hell, that was ripe.
I breathed through my teeth. Blinking rapidly to clear my vision. Mas leaned up on his toes as he shifted to look around the dumpster.
He pulled a gun from somewhere on his person. Had I not watched him pull it, I don’t think I w
ould have realized he even had one. The shortest of the Amatucci brothers was definitely the most deadly.
With a finger to his lips telling me to be quiet, he eased around the dumpster. His passage was silent. I’m pretty sure I heard the sunlight make more noise as it danced across the ground. The man was a fucking wraith.
He moved into position behind the man who was hunched over the piece of luggage on the ground. The vagrant’s dirty hands sifted through a pile of lace and satin. A heavier thunk that didn’t have any association with panties sounded in the quiet alley.
The thief scooped up whatever it was. Held it up to the sun. Brilliant flashes of color shot through the dead end passage. Apparently, Willow had put her jewelry, her panties, and two of her guns in a single bag.
I shook my head. She’d only mentioned the guns. We were going to have some discussions about the importance of full disclosure.
Mas pulled back the hammer of his pistol. Laid the barrel to the man’s head. “You do not want to scream. If you do, I will put a bullet through your head before the first note can rise from your throat. Nod if you understand me.”
The man, who’d stilled at the feel of steel against his skull, nodded quickly. He thrust both hands up towards the sky. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was just sitting there.” He lowered his arms. Reached out and caressed the suitcase. “It winked at me. It winked so pretty like in the sun. You can have it back. I don’t want what’s in it. Can I keep the case? I’ve never seen one so pretty. Can I? Can I keep it?” He cuddled it close to his chest.
The rest of the bag’s inventory clattered to the ground with solid thumps.
“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. That’s not mine. That’s not mine.” His voice raised as he began to shake and rock back and forth on his haunches. “Take it. Take it. That’s not mine. I don’t play with those. Those are bad. They hurt people. Take it. Take it. Take it!” he screamed the last.
Mas pistol whipped the back of the guy’s head. The vagrant tumbled forward, face first, into the dirt and gravel. Mas turned back to me. “Call for Rafe to check him. Have him bring Willow.”
I went back to the opening of the alley. Called for both of them to join us.
Willow rushed forward, slid her hand into mine. “Are you okay?” She slid her gaze over me quickly. “You’re not hurt?”