Chapter Eighteen

I crept closer to the door and risked a peek. A bullet smashed into the old wood of the shed. I fell backward with a string of curses and landed in old hay. Dust rose up, covering my eyes and my mouth, making breathing and seeing difficult. Damn it!

I rubbed my eyes and spit out the dust. Now I got why the bastard Peppone had insisted that I handed my phone over to him. He wanted to prevent me from calling for help. But who could I have called? I wasn’t sure whom to trust in the Famiglia. And I would have cut my own throat before calling Marcella and putting her in danger. Though she might have reasoned with her old man to save me.

I didn’t have any allies.

The people I’d once called brothers either wanted me dead, were dead, or wouldn’t risk their lives for me—not after what I’d done.

Maybe Gray would help me if I called him, but he was too far away and even if he weren’t… I’d risked his life once, I wouldn’t do it again.

And Luca or any other Vitiello?

Thinking of Luca only posed the risk of sending me into a blind rage, so I pushed any thought of him aside. I’d find out who wanted me dead later. First, I needed to survive, and that would be hard enough.

For a crazy second, I considered calling Growl, but he was Luca’s man through and through, and would probably only finish the job if Luca was behind this.

But sitting in this shed like a turkey before Thanksgiving waiting for the slaughtering to happen? No chance.

If they wanted me dead, they’d have to fight me for my life. I sure as hell wouldn’t make it easy for them. I’d return to Marcella like promised and fuck her sweet pussy all night.

I let my gaze wander around the shed, finding the shape of a bike under a yellowish-white cover. I removed the dusty cover and found an old bike beneath. It even had a sidecar. This was my chance to get out of this shed without a bullet in my head—if the thing still ran. It didn’t have any obvious damages, apart from being old. I mounted the bike which creaked as if it might fall apart. This baby hadn’t been moved in a while. “Come on, be a good girl,” I murmured. It took me an awful while to short-circuit the damn thing. The last time I’d done something like that was as a young teen when Earl hadn’t allowed me to ride one of the club’s bikes.

I’d crashed the bike, broken my wrist, and Earl had broken a couple of my ribs in the beating I got as punishment.

It took me five attempts to get the engine to pour, then the bike vibrated promisingly under me. The fuel level was dangerously low, but I had no intention of making miles with this thing. I only needed to get out of here alive. Even though I hated helmets, I grabbed the dirty thing from the sidecar and put it on. I doubted it would hold back a bullet, but it might protect me from more graze shots. It smelled of old sweat and the dust that had gathered inside made my nose itch like crazy. Maybe I’d crash the thing during a sneeze attack and die that way.

I shook my head with a sardonic chuckle. Fuck, Marcella, what have you done to me?

And then I hit the gas and the bike shot forward. It stuttered and shook as if it was trying to buck me off, but as I rammed through the shed doors, flinging them open and almost losing balance, I couldn’t help but grin. This reminded me of my wild teenage days. Mad indeed.

My smile died the moment bullets flew my way again.

I bowed low over the handlebars and sped up even more, charging right at a Nomad hiding behind a wheelbarrow who was pointing his gun straight at me. Seeing me charge at him, he made the fatal decision to whirl around and run, instead of fire. As expected, he was too slow and thus the easiest target. The sidecar collided with his shins. I almost toppled over at the impact but managed to get control over the bike quickly.

The Nomad rolled around on the ground with broken legs. Several shots hit his head and upper body before I could decide if I would keep him alive for questioning—if I survived this shitshow. The Italian traitors did quick work of him. One enemy less to worry about. I couldn’t do anything about the bikers hiding inside the house, shooting out of the windows. They weren’t my most pressing problem right now.

I did a U-turn and charged in the direction where Peppone and Drooping-Eye were still hiding. I soon began a neck-breaking zig-zag course to avoid the bullets barreling my way. I really didn’t want to die at the hands of these idiots.

Drooping-Eye shot to his feet and dashed out from behind the oak. I chased him and quickly caught up with him, running him over with my sidecar as well. He yelped and fell to the ground but didn’t move. Maybe he hit his head. Not as satisfying as killing him with a bullet, but I’d just have to take it.

I turned again, heading for Peppone, but he was no longer where I’d last seen him. From the corner of my eye, movement caught my attention.

I tried to jerk the handlebars around. Too late. Peppone lunged at me, grabbing hold of my jacket and ripping me off the bike. I slammed to the ground, the air leaving my lungs and my ribs ringing with pain. Probably broken again.

A blade flashed in the corner of my eye. I rolled over, bringing my legs up in defense when Peppone attacked me with a knife. I wasn’t sure what had happened to his gun, but he was good with the knife too. I aimed a desperate kick at his knife hand but he jumped back, eyeing me like a cockroach that he wanted to squash under his boot.

I pushed to my feet and faced him, without a weapon. I’d lost my gun and knife when I’d fallen from the bike.

Peppone lunged at me again, slashing along my forearm, sending burning pain through me. I gritted my teeth against the pain, and clamped my hand around his wrist, then jerked him against me and gave him a head-bang.

Pain slammed through my temples, but Peppone actually began to sway. I used his moment of disorientation and kicked him in the balls too. He sagged down on his knees and I rammed my knee against his chin, knocking him out.

Panting hard and bleeding profusely from my head and arm wound, I cursed the Famiglia, and my stupid heart which had led me into the midst of the enemy. All for a woman.

But what a woman, damn it!

A bullet ripped a hole into the tree beside me, sending bark flying everywhere and cutting my moment of anger short. I ducked and hid behind the trunk. I felt my face for injuries from the bark, but it was covered in blood, dust, and hay, so it was impossible to detect possible cuts.

Peppone was safe from the bullets where he lay on the ground. Not that I would have cared if they’d riddled him like a fucking swiss cheese but I needed answers. Afterward, I could still kill the bastard.

I searched the ground for my gun, got even down on my knees, and when I finally found it, I could have screamed in triumph. I grabbed it and crept closer to the building. It was two against one now if I’d counted the Nomads correctly. Now that my Italian “friends” were dead or unconscious, I was up against the bikers on my own. Though I pretty much had been on my own from the very start.

I couldn’t believe I had been stupid enough to trust these assholes. Though trust was the wrong word. I hadn’t exactly trusted them. I had trusted in their fear of their Capo. Of course, I’d thought said Capo had accepted me. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe this had been his ploy but now wasn’t the time to wreck my brain about it. I had to deal with my opponents first.

I crept closer to the house but I’d be without protection the last few steps from the shed to the door. My only other option was to drag Peppone to the car and return to New York without eliminating the two Nomads.

That wasn’t really an option. They posed a danger for Marcella and I wouldn’t allow it, even if I got killed protecting her.

I ran faster than I ever had in my life and threw myself against the door with full force. Once inside, I began firing right away until I was out of ammunition and hidden in the narrow bathroom. Luckily, it only took a couple more minutes for the gunshots from the Nomads to cease. They were either out of bullets or simply reloading. Only one way to find out.

With a battle cry, I jumped up and charged into the kitchen where one of my opponents was hiding. He attacked me with a shard from the broken window, but I no longer felt pain.

Thirty minutes later, I came out of the house victorious, having killed both my opponents, but with a cut in my arm.

Exhausted, in pain and seething, I went back to where I’d left my Italian friends. One was definitely still dead but Peppone was stirring. I leaned over him, pointing the gun I’d collected from one of the bikers at his head. His eyes fluttered and finally opened, then immediately went cross-eyed as he focused on the barrel.

“Hello sunshine,” I growled with a cold smile. “I think we need to talk.”

“Fuck off,” he seethed. I pressed my foot down on his sternum, stealing his breath.

“What was that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“I won’t talk to you, dirty biker.”

I rolled my eyes. “Dirty biker, is that the only insult your tiny brain can come with? Do you want me to get creative to extract information out of you?”

“Nothing you can do will make me talk.”

In general, such a daring statement wouldn’t have worried me, but considering that this was one of Luca’s men, the chances of him being prepared to withstand torture weren’t small. Earl had been the creative one and usually taken care of questioning.

“If you’re so adamant about keeping your mouth shut, I’ll have to assume talking would get you in trouble, and that means you’re protecting your Capo, am I right?”

“Luca had nothing to do with this. We did this for him and the Famiglia.”

I wasn’t sure if I really believed him. A groan came from from beside the oak. Drooping-Eye was awakening slowly, unlike Dimo who looked surprisingly dead.

After I’d found rope in the car, I tied them up and put them on the truck bed before I returned to New York. I was seething. Now that the adrenaline had settled only anger remained. I didn’t want to have to live my life looking over my shoulder for Famiglia soldiers to attack me again. The closer I got to New York, the angrier I got. When I finally pulled up in front of the Sphere I was fuming. I was out for blood.

If Luca was behind this assassination, I’d end him. I’d no longer try to play nice. If Marcella really loved me, she’d be on my side and be glad that I’d killed the man who didn’t want us to be together.

I couldn’tfocus on the pages before me, hadn’t really been able to focus all afternoon and evening. I’d sent Maddox two messages and even called him but his phone was dead. I was starting to get nervous.

“You still haven’t heard word about the mission?” I asked Matteo for the hundredth time. I knew that they’d discovered a Nomad hiding place and would attack today.

“No. But maybe your dad has news when he returns from the restrooms.” Matteo chuckled when he saw my sour face. “Don’t look so worried. He’ll come back in one piece.”

I really didn’t know what he found funny. His kind of humor wasn’t my thing today. “I can’t help it. I’m still not a hundred percent sure Dad wouldn’t prefer Maddox to have an accident so I’d be with someone else.”

“Your father certainly isn’t Maddox’s biggest fan, but he wants you happy,” Matteo said. He was calmly checking drug sales numbers on his laptop while I was reading the same passage about our debtors and interest rates for the fourth time. My brain seemed foggy.

The door opened and Dad came back from the toilet.

“Anything?”

Dad raised his eyebrows.

“She’s worried because of White,” Matteo said.

Dad shook his head.

“What if something went wrong?” I asked for the hundredth time, even if I sounded like a broken record. I couldn’t focus on anything but my worry for Maddox. This was his first official mission, maybe that was why I was so nervous. I’d have to ask Mom, Gianna, and Aunt Lily how they managed to stay calm when their husbands were on a dangerous mission.

“During a mission, he won’t always have time to check his phone,” Matteo said with a hint of amusement, but Dad’s gaze reflected a hint of concern, which in turn, multiplied my own trepidation.

The roar of an engine made me perk up. I shoved up from the sofa, dropping the folder, and hurried outside, not waiting for anyone to catch up. My eyes widened when I spotted Maddox in the alley getting out of the van, covered in blood and dust and soil. He looked as if he’d dug himself out of his own grave.

I hurried over to him, trying not to appear like an over-worried girlfriend. I wasn’t sure how Mom could do this for decades, especially now that she had to worry about Dad and Amo. Maybe it got easier with time but right now I dreaded being left at home while Maddox risked his life again.

“The bikers got you bad,” I said worriedly.

Maddox kissed me fiercely before he shook his head, looking absolutely furious. “This wasn’t only the bikers. Your dad’s men tried to kill me and make it look as if it was the enemy.”

I tensed and withdrew a few inches from his embrace, hoping I’d heard him wrong. “What? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, unless it’s a secret Italian sign of love to shoot bullets at your allies.”

I swallowed hard. “Did you question them?”

“I did, at least the ones who survived. One’s dead. They say it was their plan and no one else was involved.”

“But you don’t believe them?”

Maddox’s face made it clear that he suspected someone else to be involved and I had a feeling he suspected my family.

“You and my family have been getting along better, right?”

“Your father tolerated me, and Amo and Matteo were okay to deal with…”

Maddox fell silent when Dad and Matteo joined us in the alley, his expression hardening.

“See, he’s in one piece,” Matteo said with a chuckle, motioning at Maddox. I grabbed Maddox’s arms and his lips twitched from pain but his eyes were only focused on Dad and Matteo.

“I guess that wasn’t the outcome you’d hoped for, right?” Maddox growled.

“What are you talking about?” Dad asked coldly. “And what happened to my men?”

“Two of them are tied up in the back of the van and one is dead.”

Dad stalked toward Maddox, looking murderous, and Maddox looked only too eager to get into a fight with him.