“What’s sad is you’re probably not joking.”
“I never joke about a good kidnapping.”
I sighed; I was on borrowed time with the tears as it was. “What did you need this much privacy for, Ash?”
His eyes roamed over me before his jaw ticked, and he looked away. “They don’t know.”
“They don’t know what?”
He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “About the pills.”
“You idiot!” I stomped over to him and smacked him in the chest. “You’re still taking pills? Are you insane! You’re going to kill yourself! I guess you really do want to die, don’t you? Do you even know how bad that is for your liver? Or all the things that could happen to the people you love? It’s like a gateway to heroin, and I’m not going to sit back and watch someone I—” I stopped myself “—I won’t do it, Ash! I’d tell the whole damn world before keeping your secret!”
By the time I was done, my chest was heaving.
And Ash was smiling down at me.
“Stop smiling!” I gave him a shove. “I hate you! I hate you!”
I didn’t realize I was screaming until he cupped his hand over my mouth again, then very slowly removed his fingertips one by one.
“Feeling’s mutual,” he rasped. His eyes were filled with hatred and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. “And I’m not doing drugs, okay? My mom and sisters just don’t know.” He pulled away from me then. “So I would appreciate it if you’d stop the whole Sunday school teacher act and actually not tell everyone all my sins.”
“I can’t count that high anyway,” I said sweetly and followed up with a pasted-on smile.
He barked out a laugh. “Wow, Italy changed you. Last year you would have cried, and now I’m half afraid you’re going to scratch my eyes out.”
“The night’s young.” I snapped, then walked over to his bed and picked up a package.
It looked funny.
I wasn’t sure why I thought that.
It was from China, but “Toy Distribution” was stamped on it. “What’s this?”
He held open his hands, so I tossed it to him, and he tore it open in annoyance. Hands trembling, he dropped whatever white thing it was to the ground and rushed me until I was slammed up against the wall, his body protecting mine.
“Ash?”
“Shhhhh. Just wait…” His eyes were furious, his body strained as he held me captive, and then he very slowly slid his hand into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and pressed a number. “Yeah, Dad, white horse… I’m not sure; send Junior just in case—Dad, Junior would want it that way… No, Phoenix would get it… Call Valerian too while you’re at it—I don’t know. I don’t fucking know!” His hands were shaking by the time he ended the call.
“Ash?” My voice shook, even then, I didn’t move a muscle, too petrified something bad would happen if I was reading his body language correctly, and by the heat coming off his chest, the rage burning from the inside of his soul. “What’s going on?”
He locked eyes with me, his whisper gruff. “Nothing huge… Someone just wants me dead.”
I jolted like I’d been slapped as tears filled my eyes. “And the package?” Panic pitched my question two octaves too high.
Sympathy mirrored in the depths of his gaze. “I need them to make sure there’s no bomb.”
“Then why are you still here?” My voice trembled. Why not let me die?
“Because here is where you are.” He leaned in, licking his lips just as the door to his room flew open admitting Hell’s scariest demons.
The men of the mafia.
Lovers.
Killers.
Family.
Chapter Three
“If I should go before the rest of you. Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone. Nor when I’m gone speak in a Sunday voice. But be the usual selves that I have known. Weep if you must. Parting is hell. But life goes on. So sing as well.” —Joyce Grenfell
Ash
My heart was pounding so hard I was convinced she could hear it. Every muscle was on high alert as I tried to shield her with my body.
It had been pure instinct.
Pure adrenaline.
She didn’t know that the last horse sent to Nixon’s had taken out part of the kitchen.
Thankfully, no one in the family had been home.
But it had put two associates in the hospital with burns and burst eardrums. All I could think of was keeping her safe.
Amidst the hatred.
The shame.
The tension between us.
My brain had shut down.
And my heart had demanded, “protect.”
“Stay there!” Junior shouted at us as I pressed Annie harder against the wall. I didn’t need to be so aggressive, but she didn’t know that, so I enjoyed the moment while I could, aware that once my brain kicked back into gear, I’d scowl and push her away like I always did.
Because even if there was a slight attraction there…
The hatred burned brighter just like the blame; it always did, it always would.
“Got it,” I called back and then lowered my head until my lips grazed her right ear. “Try to stay calm; Junior’s one of the best.”
She slowly nodded her head, but her breathing picked up.
Was it me or the potential bomb?
Both?
I moved my hands to her hips, holding her there, pressing my body up against hers in a way that to anyone else would look protective.
Instead, I just couldn’t help myself.
She let out a shudder, one of her hands slowly moved to my hip. She rested it there, her palm burning a hole through my jeans and part of my skin since my shirt had ridden up in all my haste to protect her.
“Junior!” Phoenix bit out a curse. “The hell is taking so long?”
I could hear my dad roaring insults into what I assumed was a cell phone, most likely a safe distance from my bedroom door.
Of course, Phoenix wouldn’t be kept downstairs; his son was acting as bomb expert—his only son.
“Ash!” Serena called my name. “Why are you so extra?”
I rolled my eyes. “Could you not right now, Serena?”
“Stupid cousin,” she fired back.
“Love you too,” I called.
“Is Annie okay?” Izzy was next.
“Phoenix, why the hell are you allowing the girls up here?”
I could practically feel Phoenix’s sigh. Nobody said no to my cousin and sister. Nobody.
Not even the great Phoenix Nicolasi.
The thought had me smiling until I locked eyes with Annie again; she had tears streaming down her face.
“Hey, hey, hey.” I cupped her face wiping her tears with my thumbs. “You’re going to be fine; besides, the blast would take me out and keep you alive.”
Her pouty lips parted. “I don’t think I could survive that sort of guilt twice, Ash. Next time—” Her lip trembled. “Next time, please just let me die.”
I dropped my hands. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She looked away. “Are we safe yet?”
“Almost there…” Junior said, all casual, and then started fucking whistling Shawn Mendez. Sometimes I hated him. “And wires cut…” He sighed. “You’re lucky it was a dud, or you would have been ash.” He laughed. “Oh shit, sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”