Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1) (17 page)

“Don’t worry about it. Not your problem.” We had gym clothes in the Hummer, but I wanted him to think they just materialized on us like superheroes.

“Hey kid, you look scared,” Bones said. “What’s wrong? You just a big-mouthed chicken?”

“I ain’t no chicken, and I don’t play for free. Let’s talk stakes. What’s in it for me when we wipe the floor with your tired old asses?”

Tired old asses?
Nobody had ever called me old before. Stakes, though? The kid was a gambler, and that was something I knew how to deal with. I crossed my arms and eyed him. “What do you want?”

“If I win, you take me and my friends to play paintball.”

“Paintball?” I asked. “You sure you’re old enough for that?”

He snickered. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Okay, I’ll bite, but what do I get if we win?”

The kid eyed me for a minute longer before answering, “I’ll put in a good word for you with Markie.”

Bones coughed.

I almost swallowed my tongue. It took me a minute to recover, and then I asked, “What makes you think I need a good word with Markie?”

He blinked. “How dumb do you think I am?”

I didn’t want to touch that one, so I shrugged.

“I could call her right now. I got her phone number.”

My jaw dropped.

“Ah, you want her number, huh? I can give you that if you can take us on the court.”

I seriously considered beating the kid and taking it from him. Since I was sure that sort of behavior would be frowned upon, I refrained. “Markie and I are tight. If I wanted her number, I’d ask
her
for it.”

He laughed. “Uh-huh, sure. Markie’s been in this city all of ten minutes and she comes here lookin’ to help us out. Then you and your bodyguard come strollin’ in askin’ for her. I bet you lived here your whole life and you never thought about volunteering at no orphanage. You’re tryin’ to get a piece of that action.”

The casual way he sexualized Markie pissed me off. I tensed. “You better watch your mouth and stop talking about her like that. It’s disrespectful.”

He raised his hands in defense. “Okay man, chill. We got a deal or not?”

I wanted to get the little punk on the court and school him. “Fine, kid, you got a deal.” I held my hand out.

He slapped it. “The name’s Myles.”

Besides being observant, Myles was a phenomenal basketball player, especially for someone barely over four feet tall. We played street ball, first team to twenty-one won. He and his little gang of pocket-sized thugs were all over me and Bones from the instant our sneakers hit the court. The four young boys had at least thirty elbows between them, and each one ended up in my ribs at least twice. By the time we reached the second half, Bones and I were sweating harder than we ever did working out. We barely eked out a win, beating them by two points.

Myles tossed me the ball. “Double or nothing?” he asked.

“How are you going to double giving me Markie’s number?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I’ll think of something. I’ll give you her number
and
might even be able to buy you some alone time with her.”

I looked to Bones and he nodded. He wanted another crack at the punk. Myles’s team won the second game, but thankfully he couldn’t resist the challenge of a third. Bones and I won, and then I met Myles midcourt.

“Markie’s number?” I asked.

“Hand me your phone. I’ll put it in.”

I chuckled. “You must think I was born yesterday. I’m not giving you my phone.” I pulled it out of my pocket and started entering a new contact. “Just tell me her number.”

Myles rattled off a seven-oh-two number and I entered it, and then confirmed it aloud.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just don’t rat me out for giving it to you,” Myles said.

I had every intention of ratting him out. That was my whole plan for having her number without looking like a stalker.

Heads down, looking defeated, he and his goons cleared the court. Every muscle in my body was on fire but I held my head high as we walked out of the building and toward the Hummer. I thought about stopping by Markie’s but I was tired and sweaty, so I headed for home instead. Besides, I had her number. I pulled up the contact and dialed, running my opening line through my head.

“Vegas Paintballers, David speaking.”

I pulled the phone away and double checked the contact. Yep, that was the number he gave me. Of course. I dragged my hand down my face, amazed I could be so gullible.

“Sorry. I must have the wrong number.” I disconnected and threw the phone on the seat.

Bones started chuckling, and then he broke into a full-on belly laugh. “I can’t believe you just got played by that little shit.”

I flipped him off.

More laughter.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, still shaking my head.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Angel

S
ATURDAY MORNING I woke up to an absolutely delightful text from my father which read, ‘You get my money yet?’

I formed a number of responses in my mind, but since they’d all piss the old man off, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and replied with some badass line I’d heard Uncle Carlo use, promising money or blood by the end of the day. Contrary to my bravado, I dragged ass to the coffee machine and fired it up. A series of swear words preceded Bones’s appearance as he emerged from his room, stretching and groaning.

“I hear ya,” I replied. “Damn kids. I’m sore in muscles I didn’t know existed.”

“My ribs feel like I went five rounds in the ring against Muhammad Ali.” Bones stepped into the kitchen and went straight for a mug. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

I pulled up my father’s text and handed it to Bones. He groaned, setting his cup beside mine. We stood there and watched the coffee brew like it was the most fascinating process in the world.

“You still haven’t heard from Johnny?”

“Not a peep.”

“That dumbass.” Bones tapped his fingers on the counter. “You know where to find him?”

“No, but I know someone who does.”

I poured us each a cup of joe. As we caffeinated our bodies, my mind served up memory clips of Johnny tied to the bed. Tears streamed down his cheeks while he screamed in pain, begging for mercy. We’d done a number on him, and I’d been so sure he would pay. Now we’d have to go further. How far? What would we have to do?

Bones let me brood in silence and retreated to his room to get ready. Since I didn’t feel much like eating, I did the same.

Less than an hour later, we climbed into the Hummer and called up Tech.

His face popped onto the dashboard screen. “Angel, Bones. Good morning. How can I help you?”

Tech had to be the busiest man I knew; too busy to waste time with things like sleep or small talk. “Mornin’, Tech. I know you got eyes on Johnny Dominas. Where can I find him?”

Tech looked down. There was the tap-tap-tap of a keyboard and reflections of changing screens in his glasses. Although I’d never seen his set-up, Father had described it as a wall full of monitors, with which Tech watched the city.

“He’s staying in a little roach motel off the strip. I’m sending you the address now. Room twelve.”

My GPS started up, telling me to head out of the garage and take a left.

“You watching him right now?” I asked. If Johnny was with a broad, I didn’t want to bust in and scare the crap out of her.

“No. He checked in late last night and the boss didn’t want to waste any resources setting up eyes in the room. We greased the motel clerk and he promised to notify us if Johnny moved. Let me just hack into the motel security cameras.”

More keyboard taps.

“His car is still in the lot. I’m sending the property site code to your phone now. Do you want me to dispatch a team?”

My phone buzzed with the incoming information. “No. This is my mistake. I’ll handle it. Thanks for your help.” I disconnected and rubbed a hand down my face. My stomach felt sick, and I was pissed at Johnny for putting me into this position.

“He said two days,” Bones said.

“Yeah, I know. Must have already wiped out his mom.”

“Such a
mammone
,” Bones spat.

Italian men were notorious for being mamma’s boys. But since I’d grown up without a mom and Bones had become the man of the family in middle school, neither of us had any respect for mamma’s boys. Especially ones who bled their mamas dry.

“You don’t have to take care of this. I can—”

“Can you wipe my ass for me, Bones? You and I both know what has to happen. I can’t hand this off to you. It’s my mess, and I need to clean it up. Anything less, and the old man will…” I paused, realizing I had no idea what my father would do. Would he kill me for my cowardice and finally rid himself of the disgrace I regularly caused him? Would he strike Bones for interfering? Would he finally realize I didn’t have the balls to be his clone? The tension in my back crept into my head, pounding at my right temple. “I have to do this.”

I followed my GPS into the parking lot of a gaudy concrete building, painted to resemble gold. A smoke shop and a sex toys retailer were connected to the hotel.

“Classy place,” Bones observed, sliding out of the Hummer. He opened the back of the vehicle and returned with the handheld machine I kept in my toolbox.

I powered up the machine and entered the site code Tech had sent me. Bones released the safety on his gun and slid it back into his pocket. Then we walked over to room twelve. I inserted a card attached to the machine and waited. Seconds later, the lock clicked open. Bones drew his gun as he entered the small dark room. I held the door open, peering in so my eyes could adjust while I waited until Bones signaled me in.

The room smelled like shit. Literally, like someone had taken a dump on the floor in front of a fan. I covered my nose and followed Bones to the other side of the bed and a body facing away from us. A packet of white dust was on the nightstand beside a burnt-out candle and a metal spoon, telling us exactly what Johnny had been up to.

Bones crept forward and nudged the body with his foot. Johnny flopped over. His lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling and a syringe rolled across the carpet. The stink was overwhelming, forcing me to step back. Bones squatted and felt for a pulse.

“Dead. We need to get out of here.”

My feet couldn’t carry me away from the scene fast enough.

“He killed himself to avoid me.” The thought had been tumbling around in my head, and finally vomited out while I drove away from the motel.

“He OD’d. People do it every day.”

My hands tried to shake. My stomach soured. My body wanted to react, and I had to fight for control. I breathed deeply, forcing my emotions to settle. “He wasn’t a junkie.”

“Which makes it easier to OD.”

I drove until my body went numb. My mind kept spinning, though. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling relieved about Johnny’s death, because it kept me from having to deal with him. And that felt cowardly and wrong. I glanced into the rearview mirror, disgusted at the sight of my own reflection. Fear of me had driven my friend to kill himself, and I had the nerve to feel relieved.

“Where are we going?” Bones asked.

That was when I realized I’d unconsciously headed for the orphanage. “I know it’s stupid and I’m probably making a huge mistake right now, but I need to see her.” In the darkness of my mind, I desperately needed the light of her smile. To hear her laugh. I wanted to flee from my world and escape into hers.

“All right, man, do what you need to do,” Bones replied.

We entered the building in time to watch Markie set a stack of papers on the admittance desk. Her back was turned to us, but I knew it was her. She wore a long dark skirt with blue flowers on it, a blue blouse, and dark flats. Her hair was up in a messy bun.

“Here’s the food pantry inventory you asked for. Is there anything else I can do to help?” Markie asked the woman sitting behind the desk.

“Thank you, no, this is perfect. You saved me so much time.” The woman gave Markie a quick smile before her attention shifted to me and Bones. “Hello. How can I help you?”