Mafia War by L. Steele

3

Karma

Thump, thump, thump. The muffled sound reaches me, then fades away. I glance around at the white space that envelops me. I am floating on a cloud of nothingness. It’s peaceful here and so…so lonely. A chill grips me. I glance around, take in the white space that envelops me. Where am I? I try to move but my limbs feel too heavy. I try to put one foot in front of the other but my legs don’t seem to obey me. The scent of something dark and edgy teases my nostrils. His scent. I glance up, spot a man walking away from me.

"Capo," I try to reach for him, but am not able to move. Thump, thump, THUMP. The sound grows louder. More persistent. It mirrors his steps as he stalks away from me. His broad shoulders, that narrow waist, those powerful thighs that flex as he puts more distance between us.

"Capo," I yell, but he doesn’t look back.

"Michael," I scream as I push myself forward, but am not able to move. Why can’t I move? "Mika, stop, don’t go, Mika!"

"Beauty?"

"Mika," tears flow down my cheeks, "oh, Mika, where are you?"

"Here." Warm fingers twine with mine and I force my eyes open. Blue eyes meet mine, a burning white in their depths that echoes the white I had been surrounded by.

"No," I grip his palm, "Mika, no." A sinking sensation coils in my chest. The hair on the nape of my neck rises, "Mika, please," I whisper, my voice hoarse, my throat dry.

He leans in closer. "What’s wrong?" He peers into my features, "Are you in pain?"

"No," I shake my head as I glance around the space. The scent of antiseptic assails my senses. I take in the white walls, the fluorescent lighting, the equipment pushed up against the wall, "Am I in the hospital?"

He nods, holds up a cup of water and places the straw between my lips. "Do you remember what happened?"

I pause to collect my thoughts as I swallow. "I remember seeing you...” I scrunch up my eyebrows. “Then I reached for the ignition, and the car," I swallow, "the car…it…"

"The ignition blew. The bomb placed in the vehicle was faulty. You were thrown free."

"Thrown free?" I raise my free hand to my forehead and wince.

"I had a jump seat installed, so if anything ever happened to the vehicle, the roof would open and the ejector seat would activate."

"So, I was…ejected out of the vehicle, along with the seat?"

He nods.

"And Xander?" I frown. "I remember seeing you say something to us. I couldn’t understand what it was, but I think Xander did, because he turned to me, and then... I don’t remember anything after that."

"I was speaking in Italian." He sets his jaw, "He probably realized that I was warning him."

"Where is he?" I glance around the room. "Is he okay?"

Michael glances away, then back at me. My heart begins to race, a bead of sweat slides down my back.

"Mika," I whisper as I tighten my hold on his fingers, "Xander… Is he…"

Michael holds my gaze, "He didn’t make it."

"No." My heart feels like it’s going to break and a ball of emotion blocks my throat. I shake my head back and forth, intensifying the pounding. "No, Mika, no," I gasp.

A vein throbs at his temple. I take in his mussed-up hair, the hollows under his eyes.

"It wasn’t your fault, Mika," I whisper.

"Wasn’t it?" He holds my gaze and his features seem to settle into a mask. I sense him withdrawing from me and my stomach drops.

He tries to pull his hand free and I hold onto him. "Michael, don’t do it."

"Don’t do what?"

"Whatever it is you’re thinking about, don’t do it."

"You’re distraught," he murmurs, "still dazed from the…the incident."

"No." I swallow and try to sit up, but he places his hand on my shoulder.

"Don’t try to move yet."

"I am fine." I glance between his eyes, "Thanks to you, Michael. Don’t you see? You had the foresight to ensure that the car would hold up to something like this."

"I failed you," he says in a hard voice. "I couldn’t protect you and our child."

"Child," I stare at him. "The baby." I release his hand and place both of my palms against my stomach. My flat…empty stomach. How could I have forgotten? Or had I already subconsciously known and hadn’t been able to face up to it? "My baby," I whisper as I glance down at myself, "he’s gone."

The tears that I had been holding back well up. My face crumples and he moves forward. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulls me close. I bury my face in his chest and allow the shock, the sorrow, the disappointment to well up and overwhelm me. I dig my fingers into the front of his shirt and allow myself to cry. He holds me, rocks me, runs his fingers down my hair. I sense his chest planes flex under my cheek and glance up. His features are hard, but his eyes? Those blue eyes of his blaze with an inner emotion… Grief? Anger? A mix of the two, maybe? He holds my gaze, neither of us speaking as I reach up and flatten my palm against his cheek. "Mika," I swallow, "I’m so sorry."

"I am the one who should be sorry." A nerve flares at his temple, "I’ll never forgive myself for this."

"It’s because of you, I am alive, Mika." I frame his face with my palms, "It’s because of your foresight that I am here."

"But he isn’t." His voice is dull, "Xander is gone, and so is our child. I should have seen this happening. I should have known that as soon as I allowed myself to feel for you, that as soon as I fell in love with you—"

He firms his lips, attempts to pull away, but I grip his lapels. "You love me?" I whisper. "Of course, you love me. I knew it, Mika. I knew it...even before you told me."

"Past tense," he grabs my fingers and detaches them from his shirt, "I loved you."

"Wait, what?" I blink. "You don’t mean it."

"Don’t I?" His lips twist, "Now that you’re no longer the mother of my child, I don’t see any reason for this arrangement to continue."

Something hot stabs at my chest. I gaze into his features, and of course, he stares back. He allows me to read the intention in his eyes. The decision he’s made is clear in the cut planes of his face.

"Don’t do this, Mika. Don’t push me away. Not now; not when I need you; not when we need each other."

"I don’t need you." His fingers squeeze mine as if he’s imprinting the sensation of my skin against his, then he releases me.

"I don’t believe you," I reach for him and he steps back.

"Believe it, Karma." He straightens. "I never should have taken you from London, should have never married you. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be in this situation today."

"You need to let go of the guilt, Mika, and look forward. Xander is gone, but I am still here and I love you, Mika; I do."

He winces, then squares his shoulders. "It doesn’t matter anymore." He balls his fists at his sides, "All that matters is tracking down the men who did this and making sure that they pay for it."

"You need revenge. I understand," I tip up my chin, "but that’s not going to bring back Xander or our child."

"A few weeks of being with me and you think you know me?"

"I know what’s going to hurt you, Mika, and this…this quest for vengeance will destroy whatever you have left. It will destroy us."

He chuckles, "There is no more us, Karma, can’t you understand that?"

"No," I tuck my elbows into my sides, "but what I do understand is that you are hurting and lashing out. And you think if you sever your connection with me—which, by the way, you can’t—but you think if you cut all ties with me, I am going to be safe, and you’re wrong."

"Oh?"

I nod, "It doesn’t work that way, Mika. It’s not you, it’s the lifestyle you are in that was bound to backfire on you some day. And it did."

He scoffs, "You going to lecture me about my beliefs and my values now?"

I shake my head, "No, of course, not. If anyone can understand the pull of the dark side, it’s me, Michael. It’s why we are so well-suited."

"It’s why you are lying here on a hospital bed, having lost our child."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "You are trying to hurt me, Michael, and it’s because you are in so much pain right now. Why can’t you share it with me? Why can’t you lean on me? Why can’t you allow me to lean on you, when I need it the most right now?"

"Because. I. Can’t." His voice is so anguished, so full of torment that I snap my eyes open.

"Michael, please don’t do this," I beg. "Don’t leave me; not now."

"You are free to go back to your family." He looks everywhere but at my face. "I’ll make sure to tell Antonio to help you with any arrangements."

He turns to leave and I call out, "I am not going anywhere."

He freezes.

"You heard me, Michael. This is my home, I am your wife, and I am not leaving. Not when you need me more than anything. Not when we need each other."

He shakes his head, "Your choice. If you prefer to stay in Palermo, that can be arranged too."

He stalks forward, and I stare at his retreating back. Shit, shit, shit, what do I do now? How can I make sure to have some form of contact with him? What can I do to make sure that he doesn’t just disappear after this?

"The Christmas party," I cry out, "I want to go ahead with the event."

He turns abruptly and his gaze bores into me. "Xander is gone and you want to go ahead with the festivities?"

I flinch. "He’d have wanted it. He’d have hated for us to be unhappy and mourning him."

He hesitates. "In Sicily, we mourn for at least a month in the period following a death. Celebrations are normally cancelled, or at the very least, conducted in a somber setting."

"I understand," I glance away, then back at him. "We needn't have a party on the scale I'd planned for, but maybe something in a smaller setting? Xander would have wanted us to celebrate his life." I tip up my chin, "You know I am right, Mika."

Michael jerks his chin. "Fine," he tilts his head, "you can stay until the Christmas party, and then I am sending you back home."

And then he’s gone.