Packing Heat: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (Barone Crime Family) (7 page)

“
H
ow’s the girl
?”

I grunted as I sat down at my desk, kicking my feet up. “She’s fine.”

“Where have you been all day?”

“Tailing her mostly. Staked out her place and watched over her.”

“Stalking her, you mean.”

I grinned at Vince. I felt tense as hell, but he could usually bring some lightness to a tough situation. He was a good boss, a quality capo in the mafia, one of the best by far. I wouldn’t have worked for any other fucking guy.

It was late, getting past one in the morning. I was exhausted, but I knew Ernesto was probably trying to convince Arturo to turn against the girl every second he could.

Vince stood up and brought over a glass of whisky. I took it gratefully and drank. He leaned up against the desk, sighing.

“Some shit,” he said.

“You’re not kidding. When do we get to see the old man?”

“Soon. I sent word out to Lucas. We’re going to take care of this.”

“You mean I’m going to.”

“Whatever. Just don’t do something stupid.”

“I do what I have to do.”

He shook his head. “That’s your problem, Rafa. You’re too headstrong, too fucking stubborn. You can’t just break everything you don’t like. Sometimes you have to be political.”

“I’m not the political type,” I said.

“You’re coming up in this organization, Rafa. We all know you’re next in line for a fucking territory of your own. So you better learn to be political, or else.”

I shook my head and shot back my drink. I could work guys over, make threats where threats were needed. Hell, I could outthink most mafia assholes. But when it came to kissing ass and playing the game, I just didn’t know how.

It wasn’t in my blood.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Vince called out, giving me a look.

Fat Jimmy poked his round head in. “Guys,” he said, “Arturo and Ernesto want to talk.”

“The fuck they send you for?” I asked him.

“I was just around, so I got sent. That’s all I got to say.”

“Fine,” Vince said, standing up. “Come on, Rafa.”

I followed them out of the room, annoyed. I knew this could be a pretty damn important moment, but I couldn’t help but feel pissed off about everything.

I had told them not to touch the girl. That should have been enough. But Ernesto was a fucking capo and a boss, and that meant he had the final say over me.

We headed up to the top level of the mansion, back toward Arturo’s office. Fat Jimmy stopped at the end of the hall and leaned up against the wall. We ignored him as we continued past and stopped outside the big oak door.

Vince knocked and then waited. After a second, Arturo called us inside.

He opened the door. We walked in, shutting the door behind us.

Arturo’s office was the biggest in the mansion. Richly furnished with leather and expensive wood pieces, it looked like a million dollars. Probably because the place cost a fucking million, at least.

Sitting at the big desk was Arturo himself. He was an old man, balding but still large, with intense eyes and a small smile. Ernesto sat in one chair, looking back at us.

Arturo didn’t look imposing, but he was. He had built the damn mob with his own hands. He was an old man, but he was a dangerous old man, and a violent one.

Vince nodded to the bosses. “Gentlemen.”

“Vincent,” Arturo said. “Take a seat.”

We sat down in the two remaining chairs. Ernesto stared daggers but said nothing.

“What’s this about?” Vince asked. “It’s late and I’m not drunk enough yet.”

Arturo laughed. “You two know what it’s about.”

“The girl,” I said.

“The fucking bitch,” Ernesto cut in.

I gave him a look. He turned his head away.

“She’s not a threat,” Vince said. “We don’t need to discuss this any further. She’s worthless.”

“She’s not,” Ernesto said.

“Enough,” Arturo cut him off, holding up a hand. He looked back at Vince. “Out of respect for you and Rafa, we haven’t done anything yet. We were discussing it, trying to figure out what was best. But something new happened.”

I felt surprised. I had told her to lie low and not do a damn thing, so I couldn’t imagine something new had happened. As far as I knew, she was sitting in her apartment, doing nothing but working on some shitty article.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The Spiders contacted her,” Ernesto growled.

That surprised the hell out of me. “I doubt it,” I said.

“They did something with her computer,” Arturo said. “Our boys were monitoring her, and they found something weird.”

“Someone took her over. We couldn’t see what they were doing or saying, but it was the Spiders,” Ernesto added.

“How do you know?” Vince asked.

“It had to be them. Nobody else could do that.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Who else would contact the girl like that?”

Vince glanced at me. I shook my head. “She’s not a threat,” I said. “I don’t care if they contacted her. She’s not stupid enough to talk to them.”

“She clearly is,” Arturo said. “I want her. I want to know what they said. I want to know what she knows.”

“No,” I said simply.

All three bosses looked at me.

“You can’t say no,” Arturo said slowly. “That’s not your place.”

“It is my place. I’m saying no.”

He cocked his head at me. Vince looked surprised.

I was standing up to the most violent, dangerous, and powerful man in the city.

“Why do you care about this girl?” Arturo asked me. “Why do you care what happens to her? She was a stranger to you.”

“She was a stranger,” I said, “but she isn’t now. I know she’s not involved with the Spiders. She’s just some innocent girl caught up in all this.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Ernesto said. “She talked to them. We need to know what she knows.”

“Let me ask her.”

“No,” Arturo said. “I don’t think so.”

I was losing. I knew I was losing. I was on the verge of pushing my luck too far, and if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to do anything else for her.

The direct approach wasn’t working.

I glanced at Vince. He frowned at me.

Maybe I could try the political approach. Maybe I could try something else, something different.

I said the first thing that came to mind.

“I got her pregnant,” I said.

The men all stared at me. Nobody moved a muscle.

I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. Why the hell did I say that? It wasn’t true. I didn’t even sleep with her.

But family meant something to the mafia. It was one of the few fucking things that really did.

“When?” Arturo asked me.

“I met her before, at the Spiller. She came in trying to talk some wise guys up, and I ended up taking her home.”

“Fat Jimmy said that was only a couple days ago,” Ernesto said.

“Wasn’t the first time we met,” I answered. “That was the second time.”

Ernesto looked at Arturo. “He’s lying.”

“He wouldn’t lie about something so fucking stupid,” Vince said, “so you watch your fucking mouth, old man.”

Arturo held up his hands. “Gentlemen, please. Rafa, is this really true?”

“She’s pregnant with my child, which is why I don’t want you people torturing her.”

Arturo sighed. “I understand that. This is very bad luck.”

“Let me talk to her. I’ll find out what she knows.”

“Arturo, you can’t believe this shit,” Ernesto said.

“Why would the boy push so hard, Ernesto? Because he got the girl pregnant. Don’t be so fucking dense.” Arturo looked back to me. “It’s admirable that you’re protecting her this way. You know, you were close to getting killed there, son.”

“I’m sure,” I said, forcing myself to smile.

“This changes things,” Arturo announced. “Rafa, you may talk to the girl. For now, we do nothing until we have more information.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Ernesto spat.

Arturo ignored him. “Go now before I change my mind.”

Vince and I stood up. “Thank you,” I said.

Vince nodded at the two men. Ernesto looked angry but said nothing.

We turned and left the room. The door shut behind us. Fat Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

“You dumb fucking asshole,” Vince said softly.

I grinned at him. “You said to be political.”

“I didn’t tell you to lie to fucking Arturo like that.”

“What’s the big deal? This will blow over.”

“This won’t blow over. They’re angry about the Spiders, and she’s the only link. They’re going to want proof.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how to prove it.”

Vince sighed and stared me straight in the eye. “You better get that girl pregnant, Rafa. You better do it fast.”

I watched as he turned and started walking.

I followed him, frowning to myself.

I couldn’t actually get her pregnant. I couldn’t actually do that.

Then again, I wouldn’t mind it. I didn’t want a fucking kid, but I sure as hell wanted to feel what it was like to be inside her so badly I could barely breathe.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I really did need to get Cassidy pregnant to save both our lives.

I
woke up early
, shaken and confused. The messages on my computer kept ringing in my eras, although they were really just green text on a black background.

I couldn’t figure out what was right. I felt trapped in the middle of something, getting pulled in multiple directions. There were the Spiders, the mob, and Rafa. Things were happening around me, but I didn’t even know the players in the game.

I made myself some coffee and sat cross-legged at the kitchen table, sipping the strong black liquid, trying to feel a little more human. I was exhausted and grumpy, and I really didn’t feel like getting back to work, even though I knew I needed to.

As I stared at the wall, willing my life to suddenly improve, my phone started ringing. I nearly jumped out of my chair.

“Hello?” I said, picking it up and answering without looking at the ID.

“Hello yourself.” It was him.

“Rafa. Uh, how’s it going?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you. What are you doing?”

“I’m drinking coffee. It’s, like, nine in the morning.”

“I’m swinging by to pick you up.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“About American Idol.”

I could practically see his cocky grin in my mind. “Funny. When will you be here?”

“Five minutes.”

“I need more time to get dressed.”

“Dress fast, girl. I’m coming for you.”

He hung up the phone. I sighed, tossing mine onto the couch. I took another sip of coffee and had to decide what to do.

I could ignore him and stay where I was, or I could rush and get ready. I didn’t know what he wanted or where we were going.

I got up and went into my bedroom, my mind made up.

I quickly threw on some clothes, a pair of short jean shorts, a cute top, and some white low-top sneakers. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, tossing my hair up into a messy bun.

He knocked on my door almost exactly five minutes later.

“Come in,” I yelled.

I heard the door open and shut. He walked through my apartment, and I watched him appear at the bathroom door.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked, you know.” He smirked at me.

I bit my lip. He looked so damn handsome in his perfectly tailored suit.

“Why so dressed up?” I asked.

“It’s a fucking mob thing. Something like a dress code.”

“You guys have a uniform?”

He laughed. “Not exactly. But we do like to show off our money.”

“Classy.”

“What can I say. I’m a class act.” He crossed his arms. “You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Come on.”

I followed him through my apartment and out the front door. We headed downstairs. I noticed that he was looking around as we went, almost like he was paranoid.

We went out front and got into his black muscle car. He turned the engine on, letting it roar to life.

“Where are you taking me so early in the day?” I asked him.

“You’ll see.”

I sighed. “No. Come on, don’t be vague with me, not right now.”

He laughed. “You like a little mystery.”

“I think I’d rather know.”

“How about you sit back and imagine my hands between your legs. Let me worry about where we’re going.”

“I’m not worried, and I’m not picturing anything.”

He pulled out into traffic, grinning, and I wanted to slap that smile off his face, or maybe take advantage of his offer. I felt crazy riding along with him like this, but I also felt safe.

We drove through downtown and headed toward the western part of the city.

“So, how did you end up in the mob?” I asked him.

“Boring story. I was a poor kid growing up. Dad was a piece-of-shit alcoholic. Mom was a meth addict. He died in a car crash; she died of cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. I’m better off without them. But I found the mob to fill the void. Helps that I like the work.”

“So you enjoy being a criminal.”

“Something like that.” He glanced at me. “I enjoy being my own man.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe what I do is illegal, but I make my own fucking choices.”

“You have a boss, though.”

“For now.”

We turned into a neighborhood I’d never been in before. It was a working class place, a pretty typical Chicago neighborhood. He pulled the car over at the end of the block.

“This is my home,” he said.

“You grew up here?”

“I did. Come on.”

We got out of the car and headed around the corner. Ahead, there was a silver steel food cart, the kind of place that had been in the city forever. He stopped outside of it and got in line.

“You took me all the way out here for a food cart?” I asked him.

“Not just any cart,” he said. “This is the best breakfast in the city.” The line moved quickly, and as soon as we got to the front of the line, the guy working the cart laughed.

“Rafa!” he said. “You look good! Been too long.”

“Hey, Roger,” he said. “You still make the best fucking food in the neighborhood?”

“Best in the whole fucking city, and you know it. Who’s the pretty girl?”

“Cassidy, this is Roger.”

“Hi, Roger.”

“Well hello there, Miss Cassidy.”

“Roger, two of my usual.”

“Coming right up.”

I smiled at Rafa and he grinned at me. Roger was an older man, maybe in his mid-fifties. He was graying and heavyset, and probably had been in that same cart in that same spot for twenty years. He clearly knew Rafa, at least.

Soon we had two white Styrofoam containers of food and two small cups of coffee. Rafa paid the man and then we walked back toward his car.

“Come on. We’ll eat over here.” We went past the car and around the corner, back toward a park.

We staked out a spot on a bench and sat down. I opened up my box and looked down at three delicious pancakes.

Rafa was already digging into his. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pancakes?”

“Hell yeah,” he said.

“You don’t strike me as a pancake man.”

“Guess not.” He chewed and swallowed. “I used to eat here all the time growing up. It’s been awhile.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I don’t know, honestly.”

“You said you wanted to talk.”

“I do. You’re not going to like it.”

I felt a tinge of fear. “Are they coming for me?”

“No,” he said. “I stopped them. But you won’t like how.”

“Rafa, tell me.”

“Eat first.”

“No. You have to tell me. This is my life.”

“Take a bite. Then I’ll talk.”

I sighed and looked at the pancakes. They did smell absolutely delicious. A little pad of butter was slowly melting in the center. I poured a little bit of syrup from a small packet and took a bite.

They were delicious, sweet and savory and fluffy. The perfect pancakes.

I took another bite, and then another, and soon we were both eating in silence. For a second, I completely forgot what we were supposed to be doing. I forgot about everything but eating next to Rafa and enjoying the beautiful morning.

But soon the pancakes were gone and reality set back in. Rafa leaned back on the bench and sipped his coffee.

I turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “Okay,” I said. “Talk.”

“There’s something you got to know about the mob,” he said. “We’re real family oriented. I know that sounds fucking dumb, but it’s true. Family still means something to us.”

“Violent thugs care about their mommy. I get it.”

“Something like that.” He shrugged. “They fucking wanted you, Cassidy. Hell, some of them still do. I didn’t know how else to stop it.”

“What did you do? Tell them I’m your sister?”

“No. I told them you were pregnant with my kid.”

That hit me like a hammer to my chest. I blinked at him, not sure what to say.

“Seems crazy, but it worked. They backed off for now.” He shrugged. “So that’s the deal. You’re supposed to be pregnant with my kid.”

“That is crazy,” I said softly. “I’m not pregnant though.”

“I know,” he said. “But we’re going to have to do something about that.”

I nearly dropped my coffee. There was no way he was actually suggesting what I thought he might be suggesting. That was just too wild, too insane.

Flashes of his body pressing against mine. I glanced around the park, and for a second I thought I could see the man under all that violence.

But the solution, I couldn’t really imagine he meant that. It was just too insane, even for this situation.

There was no way he was going to get me pregnant.