Bitter Pledge (Falsone Crime Family) - Page 10

“All right, Cap. I won’t ask you to be careful.”

“Thanks. I knew you’d understand.” She grinned and finished her beer. “I should get back.”

“We’ll start with the hardest. I’ll go to work on Anthony first and see what I can dig up. Check into the others for me.”

“Don’t get killed, okay? We’ve got a long list ahead of us. There’s lots of work to do.”

I reached out and grabbed her hand. She looked surprised. I held it and felt her soft fingers. Mine were big and rough. The hands of a man used to living on the street. Prison hadn’t made me any softer, that was for damn sure.

“We’ll do this,” I said, squeezing her hand.

She chewed her lip and nodded. I let her go and she left, slipping back out into the night.

I watched her go. One hell of an ass on that girl.

Fucking hell.

I finished my second drink. I had an address and a purpose. Now all I had to do was kill the bastard and scratch his name off my list. Wouldn’t be so difficult. I knew where he was now.

But I didn’t move. The bar was humid and the music was good. I wanted to stay there and think more about Cap and how good it felt to sit next to her again. I wanted to think about her lips and her hair and the way she smiled.

My fingers gripped the glass.

I stood up. I couldn’t afford this. Not right now. Cap was Carmine’s, and Carmine was dead. I was too confused, and that might get me killed.

I had a lot of work to do.

I stepped out into the night. The music stayed indoors. Muted, distant.

Cap stood on the sidewalk. She hadn’t left yet. She turned and saw me. My eyebrows went up. She walked over and looked like she wanted to say something.

She got up on her toes and kissed my cheek.

My body lit up.

She turned as a rideshare pulled up to the curb. She got into the back and it drove away into the night.

Chapter 5

Capri

The Uber dropped me off a few blocks from home. It was late and my hands shook as I hurried down the sidewalk toward the black fence that surrounded the house. I waited crouched near the back, then climbed it and came down hard on the far side. I cursed, but at least we had nice, plush grass. It probably cost thousands of dollars a year to keep it watered, but that was the price my father paid to look rich.

I snuck up the path that wound its way through the garden. Shrubs, small trees draped with moss, and an in-ground pool were like an arrow to the back door. I hesitated, wondering if I could turn around and run off, disappear into the night, never look back. But my father would hunt for me, and Mal needed my help. I couldn’t abandon him, not right now.

I crept toward the door and heard movement to my left. I looked over as a man stepped out of the bushes. He clicked on a flashlight and held it up, shining it in my face.

“Hands,” he barked.

I raised my hands in the air. I was shaking wildly. At first, it’d been because I’d kissed Mal on the cheek—the third time I’d ever touched him. The first time had been when our knees bumped. The second had been when he grabbed my wrist. Now I shook from terror, because there was no doubt in my mind that the man on the other side of that light was pointing a gun at my head.

“It’s Capri,” I said quickly. “Capri Balestra.”

The light lowered and I made out Rolando’s face.

He had light brown skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. He stepped forward. He was a boxy little guy, all shoulders and muscles. He held a gun in his right hand, pointed down at the ground.

“Capri, Capri, Capri,” he said, shaking his head. “What are you doing out so late?”

“I took a walk around the garden,” I said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He cocked his head to the side. “I doubt that’s true. Come on, get inside.” He shoved his gun back into a holster at his hip and grabbed my arm.

I let him pull me through the door. The house was dead except for two men sitting in the living room, both of them armed. The TV played an old spaghetti western in black and white. Both glanced up as we walked past. Neither spoke as Rolando dragged me up the stairs.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, heart racing in fear.

“Not here,” he said. “Lucky you. I don’t plan on telling him about this, neither. I don’t need the fucking headache.” He took me to my room and shoved me inside, but he didn’t leave. “You can’t pull that shit, Capri.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Romance
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