Bones threw back his head and laughed. "You're right, it's not good. It's great. We are going to look so badass!"
Since badass was much better than sexy, I swallowed back a grimace and followed Bones to the locker room, wondering what the hell he was up to.
CHAPTER FOUR
Angel
SURPRISING MY FAMILY was no small feat since they lived in a goddamn gated fortress. First, I had to convince the gate guards to let me in without announcing me. They thoughtfully radioed ahead and asked the property guards not to shoot us on sight. There was a good chance that my old man was listening in on his radio, but that couldn't be helped.
When we reached the door, I rang the bell and turned my back on the security cameras. Bones and I wore matching black outfits: pants tucked into combat boots, jackets with official crests on the arm under Kevlar vests that marked us as "Police" on the front and "SWAT" on the back. "SWAT" caps hid our faces, and realistic-looking squirt guns were holstered at our hips, and billy clubs were dangling at our hips. In addition, the numerous pockets of our pants were stuffed with handcuffs, rubber gloves, and enough silly string to cover the entire city of Las Vegas. I had no clue where Bones had gotten the costumes, but I was fairly certain they were authentic, and I couldn't wait to see my father's reaction.
I spun around as the door opened, a little afraid I'd get shot if I didn't show my face immediately. The old man stood in the doorway with a security guard hot on his heels. His eyes widened as he looked from me to Bones, and then back to me. Then he slapped his leg, threw back his head, and laughed harder than I'd ever heard him laugh before. The security guard eyed Bones and me, with one hand on the gun in his pocket. Then he must have recognized us, because he chuckled and shook his head appreciatively.
"Al! Come look at these pigs on my doorstep!" Father shouted, sliding aside and waving for Cousin Alberto.
My grandmother's cousin, Alberto, hobbled over to the door, took one look at us, and practically spit out his dentures.
"That's the best thing I've ever seen," he said, when he could finally breathe again. "You've gotta get a picture of this, Dom."
Still chuckling, Father disappeared for a few moments and then reappeared with a camera around his neck.
"Those aresomecostumes," he said. "Looks like the real thing. Where'd you get them?"
I held my hands up. "Don't look at me. This was all Bones's idea."
"I know a guy," Bones said with a shrug.
"Those guns real?" Cousin Alberto asked, pointing at my holster.
I drew my plastic weapon, spun it around my index finger, and then proceeded to water the potted plant next to the door. This only made them laugh harder.
Cousin Alberto shook his head. "The guys aren't gonna believe this. Dom, you gotta get a picture of me with these clowns."
Father had his security guard snap a variety of pictures: Me and Bones arresting Cousin Alberto and Father, us about to beat them with our billy clubs, and them stealing our guns and squirting us. Father was still chuckling when my seven-year-old little sister, Luciana, came around the corner wearing a long, frilly purple dress.
"Wow! Look at you!" Father scooped her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. "The most beautiful princess I've ever seen."
"Where's your wand?" I asked.
She grinned, opening the little purse draped over her shoulder. "I don't have a wand. I have throwing stars." She flashed me a handful of plastic toy weapons. "Mamma says a princess needs to be able to protect herself and wands are stupid."
I laughed. Yep, that sounded exactly like something Mamma would say.
"I do have glass slippers, though," she said, showing me her feet. "Girls have to look good when they fight."
"Better not lose them," I warned. "If some guy shows up on the doorstep with your shoe, he's gonna be eating it. You know that, right?"
She giggled. "Boys are gross, Angel."
"Damn right they are."
"Where's Georgie?" Father asked Luciana.
"Here, Daddy!" her twin, Georgio, said, strutting down the stairs, dressed in a breastplate over a tunic with chain mail sleeves and waving a long plastic sword. His black pants were tucked into fur-lined boots, and on his head he wore a helmet with what looked like a spear point coming out of the top and some sort of winged emblem on the front.
"Angel!" He shouted, jumping the last few steps then running to greet me. "Can you guess who I am?"
My little brother was a history buff, who loved stories of old warriors and their battles. This was his second year dressing as Genghis Kahn.
