Bottled Up: Pietro Family Estate
Page 55
“Where we headed? Any more bitchy ex-girlfriends around where maybe we could lie low.”
I roll my wrist. “Ok, let me have it.”
“You saw the way she spoke to me. And you did nothing.”
“She would have shot me on the other side if I fucking did anything before I was patched up. And you held your own. I knew what to expect from you, but her, loose fucking cannon. And I had to keep her talking. Seems we were both doing it.”
“Why did she patch you up if she’s with Enzo?”
“She was stalling to keep me there, and thought he’d reward her with cash if she was the one to pull me in. And now I know Enzo is still running around LA. He didn’t flee. We need to get out of this car.”
“Agreed. It smells like she doused the entire car in knock off Dior. I’m going to throw up.” She leans forward and winces again. I don’t like that. She removes her jacket a little too carefully.
“You okay?” She nods.
“Tell me more about Dr. Mafia Barbie.” I slam the wheel with my palm. She’s not going to let this go.
“You’re yapping too much like those fucking dogs.” I kiss her hand, “Thank fucking god you’re mine.”
“That’s not a good enough apology. But it’s a start.”
“I love you. And only you. And if my fifteen-year-old dick knew what was out there waiting for him, he never would have stuck himself anywhere else.” I hold her gaze at a red light. Then she blows a curl out of her face, and I love her more.
She starts talking. I know this is all a lot, but I keep looking behind me. Fuck. I wish I could contact Mark. I don’t know if he’s okay and vice versa. The only thing we do know is our cover is blown. He knows we want him. She’s still talking about Ang, so I let her. I let her babble wash over me like a warm blanket. It’s honestly what I dream about. Useless conversations filling my days where time is endless and no one’s waiting for me to run, hide, or show up and be the man I hate. My father was that man. My grandfather was that man, and I desperately want to be different. I need Enzo dead, and then I’m out.
“…And the bagels aren’t chewy. They’re like just dense dough, and that’s not what you want. So why is that place so popular?” No clue what she’s saying now. I pull into a Walmart parking lot. There are two tails who were scouting, but didn’t see us.
“What do you need? What’s with the pinch face every time you move? What’s happening?” I look at her.
“Don’t freak out, but I need to know how bad this is. I know what it feels like.” I growl. I don’t like where this is going.
She lifts her shirt, and there are several dark as night bruises and one very distinct impression in the middle. This is calculated and curated. This isn’t some violent outburst, this is a fucking message that’s marking my wife. She lowers her shirt and turns to me with tears in her eyes. My blood is boiling, bulls on parade seething. I can barely grit out my words.
“Who dies today?” I know the answer but I need to hear it.
“Cady.”
“He was always going to die but now I get to whip his fucking face, dick and back with a belt buckle before he expires.”
“How did you know it was a buckle?”
“It’s an old domestic abuse thing. Little Anthony, Enzo’s father, used to beat Gia that way. Maximum damage and pain, no visible marks. Sick fuck.”
“He is, but Enzo’s on a leash. He wanted to hit me when I got there.”
“Jesus. Fuck. Stop telling me about people trying to hurt you. I’m going to need to kill something or hit something.” I curl my fist tight, trying to suppress the pure rage I’m feeling.
“Like a ham?” My face snaps to hers.
“What the fuck you say?”
She cocks her head sideways. “Like a ham? Do you want to hit a ham?”
I pull the ends of my hair and then look at this daffy broad. “No. I don’t want to hit deli meat. What is wrong with you?”
“You’re not so pissed now, are you? Listen to what else I have to say. Tuck your anger back for a second.” I lean over and kiss her.
“I love you.”