“Nope,” I replied. “Not since they lost me the day I was checking out the locations.”
“She’s probably afraid you’ll kill her,” Angel pointed out. “Especially since she hasn’t heard from Matt. She also might be afraid Carlo will intercept her.”
It felt like we were spinning our wheels. The more answers we dug up, the more questions we uncovered. “I still don’t understand Carlo’s role in all of this. If Pops was working with the family, why didn’t Carlo tell me?”
Evidence was stacking up that Carlo had known about my old man all along, but he’d kept the truth from me. Why? Had Pops deflected? If he switched sides, Carlo would have had to put him down. Maybe that was the big secret he was keeping from me. But, if my old man’s loyalty had failed, why had Carlo approached me to guard Angel? Wouldn’t he be afraid the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree? Wouldn’t he expect me to do the same?
Angel shrugged. “Hard tellin’, but I doubt we’re gonna find any answers in my kitchen. Maybe Nonna will have more information for us tonight.”
Chuckling, I nodded. “Still can’t believe she pulled this off so quickly. That woman is a goddamn miracle worker.”
Angel had somehow gotten a message to Nonna that we needed to talk to her somewhere public, under the guise of a bigger purpose. He told her about Ariana’s missed birthday and her desire to sing, and Nonna had pulled strings and made the impossible a reality. In just a couple of days, Nonna had managed to do what Ariana had been trying to do for over a year.
“She’s a force of nature, for sure,” Angel agreed proudly. “How’s shit between you and Ari?”
“Solid.” I’d expected Ariana to lose her shit over the way I’d fucked her then disappeared, but she’d once again proved to me what a cool chick she was.
Angel leveled a look at me like he was trying to figure me out. His ass was worrying about me a little too much, and I needed to remind him that I handled my own shit.
“Want me to talk about it?” I asked. “Want me to lay on the couch and you can play shrink as I tell you my deepest, darkest secrets?”
“Fuck no,” he said, flipping me off as he headed for his room. “Nobody wants to hear the kind of shit that’s in your head.”
Exactly.
Angel and I got dressed and ready, then we fired up the gaming console and shot faces off while we waited for the girls.
Markie strolled in about a half-hour later. “Is this what we’re doing tonight?” she asked, gesturing at the game. “Because I thought you two were wining and dining us.”
Angel turned to look at her and was immediately shot dead in the game. “Damn,” he breathed. “You look… damn.”
Markie was a knockout. A large patch of her blonde hair was only about an inch long, but she somehow managed to make it look intentional and stylish, with the rest of her hair in loose waves. Her blue eyes looked bigger and more intense, and her lips look fuller and more pronounced.
The dress she wore pulled attention to all the right places, but only held my attention for a moment, because Ariana stepped out from behind her, wearing a floor-length gown that fit her like a second skin. My fingers itched to caress her body, and I was immediately torn between wanting to see her rock the microphone and wanting to lock her away where no horny assholes could molest her with their eyes. Her dark hair was up in some complicated hairdo that exposed her long, sexy neck, and the heels she wore made her already long legs look like they went on forever. Our gazes locked, and an uncharacteristic blush flooded her cheeks as she looked away.
She was embarrassed or nervous, or some shit like that when she had no reason to be. Knowing I needed to say something to build her confidence, I stood. In the background, I barely registered my character being riddled with bullets. I couldn’t be bothered with that, though. Not when everything I wanted to see was right in front of me.
“You look gorgeous, Ari,” I said.
She glanced back up at me, her cheeks even redder. “Thanks.”
“The dress looks great on you,” Angel added. “Do you like it?”
Her face lit up. “It’s the nicest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you so much!”
“My pleasure,” Angel said, opening his arm to Markie, who slid in and hugged him. “Our pleasure, really.”
Then Markie ushered us out the door, reminding us we had reservations.
Markie wobbled a little in the hallway, unsteady on her legs after the surgery followed by more than a month of sitting. “I think my muscles have atrophied,” she said. “They’re not doing what I want them to do.”
“I still don’t know if this is a good idea,” Angel replied.
“I told you, I’m not missing my sister’s twenty-first birthday dinner.”
He tightened his hold around her. “Yes, but a wheelchair—”
“Is ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”
