Mafia War by L. Steele

27

Karma

The panes of glass explode and the pattering of what sounds like hail stones fills the space. My throat hurts, and that’s when I realize, I am screaming. The sound of my own voice echoes in my ears. The next second, I am pushed to the ground; a big body covers me. The scent of leather with a hint of woodsmoke. Fresh snow fallen on the earth… His scent envelops me. The heat from his body pours over me, cocoons me. I push up and into him, trying to get as close to him possible; to touch as much of my body to his as I can. Even though we are in the middle of what sounds like a gunfight, I can’t help but exult in the fact that he’s near me, on me, around me. I turn my head and push my cheek into his T-shirt covered chest. I draw in deep lungfuls of Michael, and my head spins. His chest heaves, the hard planes digging into my breasts as he gathers me even closer.

His arm moves and I realize that he’s holding the knife out and over me. Guarding me, protecting me. My own personal bodyguard. My champion. My knight… Stop… Clearly, I am in shock. That is the only reasonable explanation for why my thoughts are in such free fall.

I draw in a breath and my lungs burn. My stomach twists, my arms and legs tremble, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Shit, shit, shit. Not the time to be going into shock.

The silence lengthens, I sense him move, then he grips my chin. I feel his gaze peruse my features, and crack my eyelids open. His blue gaze burns into me. In their depths, there’s so much fire, so much concern… So much everything. I open my mouth, but my brain seems unable to put the words together. I draw in another breath, feel a tear run down my cheek.

Stop that. Why am I acting like such a weakling? I can get through this. I’ve survived this far; hell, I’ve faced the biggest transformation possible and come through the other side. I lost my child, almost died, lost a man who I had grown to love like a brother in such a short time, and I am still here, aren’t I?

So why is my heart racing, my pulse pounding, my arms and legs trembling like I am in shock…? Um, it’s because you are in shock? Because I may be married to a Mafia Capo but I am still not used to being shot at. Hell, I may never be used to being shot at, truth be told. Because as much as there is darkness at my core… I am also a creature who craves the life I once had?

A home, a career, a focus on creating art through my designs. Producing clothes that will bring my visions to life, and getting them out in the world. Where does all of that fit in with this life that I have been thrust into? Where do I fit in with this world that is Michael’s life? This is where he came from and this is where he will always be. And if I want to live with him, I’ll have to fit in. Do I want to fit in with this life that he has chosen for me? Do I want to walk away from everything I have spent my life working toward...to be with him?

So far, he has led and I have followed. Since I met him, it’s been a roller coaster ride, and I’ve been happy to go along for the ride. But now… It’s as if I am waking up from a long sleep and realizing that I have a choice.

I hear the sound of someone moving and glance around to find JJ belly-crawling forward toward the doorway. He reaches it, straightens, keeping as close as he can to the wall, and hits the light switch.

Gloom descends on the room. The rays from the sun slant into the room, but I guess switching off the lights makes us less of a target? Maybe? JJ's eyes glitter as he glances toward Michael, who nods. Something silent passes between the men. That's when another burst of shots rings out, and JJ drops to the floor again.

"Merda!"Michael swears as he throws his body over mine again. This time, the shots seem to go on and on. Things hit the floor around me. People? Or pieces of the furniture that the bullets have ripped out? Or bits of the wall that the bullets have loosened and which are now hitting the floor? A moan wells up and I swallow it down. My entire body trembles.

Michael seems to sense my anxiety, for he presses me into the floor. Thump-thump-thump; his heartbeat pounds against my back. Strong, steady…grounding me. I focus on it, on him. Strange, even though I know that our time together is, surely, drawing to a close, I still can’t stop myself from leaning on him. Another tear runs down my cheek and I try to swallow the ball of emotion that clogs my throat.

Silence descends and I realize the shooting has finally stopped. No one moves, then something else crashes to the floor.

I turn to find Seb and Massimo have upturned the table so it's another barrier between us and the windows. While Luca keeps his gun trained on JJ, Seb and Massimo use the edge of the table to balance their guns and return fire. The sound of gunshots fills the room again. It's so loud, so close... Too close.

A tremor runs up my spine. I am not a weak person, but my daily life and my fashion designing business seem so far away right now. One wrongly– or rightly-directed bullet, and I'll be dead. Gone. A soft moan leaves my lips before I can stop it.

"Shh," Michael presses his lips to my temple, "you’re safe, Bellezza. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you."

And you? Who will ensure that nothing happens to you? Will we spend our lives always worried about the next bullet that’s going to kill one of us, or our loved ones?

I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing there are no answers to these questions. He’d never leave the Mafia… He wouldn’t want to, and even if he did, they’d never leave him. Besides, what would he do? Work in an office behind a desk? Ha! As if he’d ever be able to fit into an ordinary lifestyle.

Michael is too big. Too vital. Too real… Too much everything. Maybe he’s always been too much for me, but I haven’t wanted to see it. I’ve been too consumed by his larger-than-life image, his sexiness, his over-the-top attractiveness, his dominance which consumes me, overpowers me completely.

I had lost myself in him… And now, I am finding myself again… And I am not sure whether I want to be this woman I’ve become being with him.

The firing ceases.

The room plunges into silence again.

"Fratellone, we need to get out of here," I hear Luca murmur. I peer from the corner of my eye to find he still has his gaze on JJ. Guess they weren't taking any chances with the boss of the Kane Company.

"I am not sure that’s a good idea," Seb’s voice protests. "We leave here, and whoever is shooting at us will kill us."

"We stay here and we are sitting ducks," Luca hisses back.

"I vote we fight back," Christian interjects.

"With what?" Massimo growls, "We'll be out of ammo very soon."

"I have guns in the basement," JJ speaks up.

Silence, and I imagine all of them are glaring at JJ. I push at Michael’s chest and he rises to his feet.

"Stay down." He bends low and I follow suit.

He guides me toward the back of the room. I step over pieces of wood, pieces of paper that have been torn out of the books that the bullets hit. I try to avoid stepping on them but there’s too much of it. That, combined with the bits of plaster from the ceiling that have fallen to the floor, have turned the once beautiful room into a war zone.

Michael urges me behind the settee. He pushes down on my shoulder so I have no choice but to sink to my knees behind the sofa. It’s some kind of protection, in case the shooting starts again, I suppose. I stare up at him and for a second, it’s so erotic, so hot to have him looming over me, the breadth of his shoulders shutting out the sight of everything else, his gaze on me as he reaches down and cups my cheek. "You okay?" he asks in a soft voice.

I swallow, not trusting myself to speak, then nod.

He holds my gaze a second longer before glancing toward JJ. "Weapons," he snaps, "how many guns do you have?"

"You’re going to take his help?" Christian glowers, "You’re going to take the help of the man who murdered our brother."

"I didn’t kill him," JJ retorts and Christian lunges for him. He brings the butt of his gun down on JJ, who ducks, but not fast enough. The butt smashes into the side of his temple and blood spurts from the wound. JJ grabs Christian’s arm and twists it. His gun falls to the floor. Both leap for it, only someone fires a shot in the air. It hits the ceiling and chunks of rubble pour down in the center of the room. Neither JJ nor Christian move.

Massimo stalks forward. He grabs JJ by his collar, hauls him to his feet, then presses a gun to his temple. Christian picks up his gun and straightens. He brushes off the dust that has settled on his jacket. "Thanks, bro," he jerks his chin at Massimo.

"You have something to say, Christian?" Michael demands.

Christian stares at him, then at JJ. "I understand why you think we need to take his help," Christian growls, "but as far as I am concerned, he is guilty of our brother’s murder until proven otherwise."

"And this…is why the Mafia is struggling to hold onto their position as the most notorious of all the organized crime bodies in the world." JJ smirks, "You guys are too emotional."

"No one asked you for your opinion, stronzo." Christian’s shoulders tense and anger vibrates off of him. His jaw is clenched so tightly, I wonder if he’s going to pop a blood vessel any second.

"He’s right, though," Michael says slowly, and Christian turns on him.

Michael raises a hand, "I understand how much you miss Xander. We all do. And if he is, indeed, the person responsible for his death, then trust me, I’ll ensure that he dies in the most painful way possible. But right now, we need to find a way out of here."

"And quickly," Luca adds. "They’ve stopped shooting, but this is only a temporary reprieve. They must be reloading their weapons and planning their next move."

"Agreed," Seb nods his assent.

Michael glances between them, then at Christian, who glowers back. "How about we kill the bastardo first, then head down to get his weapons?"

"Won’t work, ol’ chap," JJ drawls. "You need my retinal scan to get through."

"We could always cut off his head and take that to unlock the door," Massimo offers.

Luca chuckles, "Now that’s something I have been looking forward to."

"Cutting off his head?" Seb asks.

"Specifically, the heads of our rivals and parading them around the streets of the city to teach our enemies that they can’t fuck with us," Luca retorts.

Seb scowls at him, "This is not an episode of Game of Thrones, youass!"

"More’s the pity; I always did prefer a sword to a gun." Luca raises a shoulder.

"You always did like to overcompensate," Seb chuckles.

Luca’s frown deepens. He points his gun toward Seb, then blows out a breath, "Pity, I can’t shoot you for that."

"I’d like to see you try," Seb waves his own gun in the air.

"Gotta say, your brothers make for a fascinating comedy act." JJ trains his gaze on Michael, "And these are the jokers you count on to have your back in a sticky situation?"

"Asshole," Luca trains his gun in JJ’s direction, "one more word and I won’t hesitate to shoot."

JJ firms his lips. The bastard still doesn’t seem to be put out by the fact that he’s surrounded by men who would not hesitate to kill him if he breathed too hard. Jesus, the man has nerve, all right.

He trains his gaze on Michael, who jerks his chin, "Let’s go get those guns."