Chapter 4

NOVALEE

W hile on my not so amicable drive with Marty, I learned a few things. Such as, not only did he have quick reflexes, but he was well prepared.

When I tried to kick him in the head, Marty dodged out of the way, then rolled up a window between the front and back seats, effectively cutting off my means of attack. Obviously this wasn’t Marty’s first kidnapping. I was pretty sure separation windows weren’t standard in Range Rovers.

I also learned that I could be defeated by a simple child lock. There was nothing more pathetic than planning a grand escape from a moving vehicle, complete with an epic tuck and roll onto the pavement, only to have said plan foiled because you couldn’t open the damn door.

Marty truly was an effective criminal. Although, one would argue that if he was going to keep up with that lifestyle, he might want to consider a name change. Marty didn’t exactly instill fear. It was kind of like having a vampire named Jerry or Bob.

I even made a few suggestions to him. None of which he liked. Apparently Marty was perfectly happy with his name. Personally, I thought Vlad or The Darkness had more of a punch, but whatever.

Needless to say, coming up with awesome villain names was about the only thing I accomplished on the way to Gio’s house. My favorite was Krull The Lizard King.

Marty pulled to a stop and my lip curled at the two staircases at the front of the Mancini mansion.

I was seriously starting to hate this house. It was too perfect. Where were all the overgrown hedges and messy flowerbeds? Seriously, who cut their grass that neatly? And don’t even get me started on the spotless porch.

“That was the longest fucking drive of my life.” Marty muttered to himself then twisted his neck to look back at me. “I hope you’re done being a pain in the ass.”

I shifted my eyes his way and smiled.

It was good to have hopes in life. They probably wouldn’t come true, but it was still a good thing to hold onto.

“That’s what I thought.” He rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

I watched him step over to the backdoor, and reach out to open it.

There were two options I had in this situation. One was easy, and one involved an umbrella laying on the floor and the side of Marty’s face. Other than who he chose to work for, I didn’t have anything personally against the guy. I could even forgive the whole kidnapping thing.

But when he opened the door and muttered, “I hope Gio tans your ass.” I knew which option I was going for.

Marty leaned in the backseat, as I grabbed the umbrella and jabbed him in the chest with the pointy end. It was an effective hit. I even made him bleed a bit.

“Son of a bitch.” He looked down at the small red spot staining his shirt, then at the umbrella in my hands. “Did you just stab me with an umbrella?”

“Yes.” Although, technically I was trying to hit him not stab him, but it worked.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

Then he lunged in after me, reaching for my weapon. “Give me that.”

I dodged his attempted grab, and smacked the umbrella off his side. After which I did it again, this time hitting him in the back. The last strike hit hard. I felt the echo of the slap.

That was when Marty apparently had enough. He crawled over me and grabbed my arms.

“No,” I cried while trying to scramble away. “It’s my umbrella.”

But it was no use. He easily tore it out of my grasp, and tossed it somewhere behind him.

Next thing I knew, I was being dragged out of the car and flung over his shoulder. Marty marched us into the house while I stared at the umbrella on the ground. Shattered and in pieces like my life.

For some reason that sight set me off. I couldn’t explain it, but seeing the cracked edges of the wooden handle and frayed blue canopy pissed me off. All that umbrella wanted to do was shelter people from the rain. And Marty destroyed it. He took a useful tool and tossed it aside like garbage.

I beat my fists off his back and screamed, “put me down you giant oaf!”

What did that umbrella ever do to him?

“I will beat you with my shoe.”

“Go ahead.” He snarled. “I’m not scared of your shoe.”

He should be. That shit hurt. Maw Maw had boomerang skills with footwear. She could hit me in the back of the head from around a corner.

“Alright bozo, you asked for it.”

How I managed to bend back and grab my one remaining sandal off my foot, I’ll never know. Nor did I care. The second it was in my hand, I swung, thwacking it off the back of Marty’s head.

The string of curses he growled in response was a small victory, but still a victory. In the moment it felt worth it. The way I was violently tossed however…

I flew through the air and slammed down on the hardwood floor, smacking my tailbone so hard that it knocked all the air out of my lungs. There was barely enough time to cough out a strangled breath before a large palm slapped the side of my face.

My head twisted to the side as a burning sting rattled through my brain, blurring my vision and numbing my thoughts.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

Footsteps, yelling, and various slams came from all directions. At least that’s what it felt like. Everything was distant. As if I was under water. Then again, maybe I was underwater?

Maybe I was still sinking in Quackwater Lake, and everything after was some kind of end of my life dream. Marty and Snake were nothing more than figments of my imagination. The names alone were wrong. Therefore, I must be dead.

I fell off the dock and drowned in Quackwater Lake. How disappointing was that?

I always figured I’d go out in some ironic manner. Like saying ‘you never know when you’ll get hit by a bus’, then stepping outside and getting hit by a bus. The universe seemed to enjoy making a mockery of my life, so why not my death?

Rolling over, I groaned at the ache in my jaw.

If this was my afterlife, then Father John lied. There was indeed pain in death. A lot of pain. And where was my serene peace? Shouldn’t there be angels playing harps or something?

I pressed my palm against the searing sting in my cheek and fought to suck in a breath. Death sucked.

“You’re fucking dead!”

I knew that. Wait… was that Gio? Ugh, figures he’d invade my afterlife.

“She hit me.”

Marty? Son of a bitch, maybe he was real? Did that mean Snake was real too? No. I had to still be caught in my dying dream.

“I don’t give a fuck if she cut your balls off and shoved them down your throat. You don’t fucking touch her unless I say so.”

Well, that sounded familiar. Mr. All Powerful Gio Mancini with his “do what I say…”

Son of a bitch, I was still alive. Damnit. Did that mean Father John was right? Not that I’d ever admit it.

There was a snarl, a small smash, and a loud thud that sent vibrations through the floor under me.

My lungs snapped back into action, sucking oxygen along with the faint scent of smoke back into my body at such a speed, that I coughed at the sudden ability to breathe. My vision followed. The haze clouding my sight receded, allowing me to see what was happening. And I never wanted to shrink back into oblivion more in my life.

I was surrounded. Gio’s dad was off to the left beside some guy with his arms folded and a stern look on his face. To the right was some super muscular giant—who I vaguely remembered seeing in Romeo’s office. Though I wasn’t sure why I would’ve ever tempted fate and threatened him. The guy had to be like seven feet tall. I must’ve been really mad that day.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, Gio’s crazy brother Romeo was right behind me. That was way too close for me. The toes of his black sneakers were literally inches from the top of my head. I would’ve scooted away from him if I could move. But the way Gio had Marty pushed up against the wall had me frozen in place.

If the look on Gio’s face wasn’t enough to indicate that Marty was about to have a really bad day, then the redness on the left side of his jaw and blood trickling from his nose sure as hell were.

Having a brother like Kato, I’d seen guys fight before. But this was different. This was more than two guys throwing punches. This was deadly.

“I should gut you right here,” Gio hissed in Marty’s face.

Marty didn’t fight back or say anything. He just gulped back a swallow and kept quiet.

Nobody else did anything either. They all just stood there watching. Gio’s dad even looked a bit proud. How twisted was that? Not that I was any better. I was so shocked by the entire scenario, that all I could do was push myself up to sit.

“You see that shit?” Gio grabbed Marty’s face and forced him to look at me. “That shit is mine.”

This was going too far. I might’ve said something to stop it if Romeo hadn’t stepped closer and pressed the tip of his foot against my butt. As if he was silently letting me know he was watching me.

Looking up at him, I opened my mouth, “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Someone had to do something. Someone had to stop it. Sure, the guy hit me, but I kind of deserved it. Who in this room hadn’t wanted to hit me at some point? Hell, sometimes I wanted to hit myself.

Romeo didn’t say a word. All he did was arch a brow down at me, while exhaling a cloud of smoke in my face.

Coughing, I batted the cloud away. I was going to take that as a no.

I turned my attention back to Gio, who looked even more murderous, if that was possible. He was so overreacting.

My heart stopped when Gio pulled out a gun and pressed the barrel to the side of Marty’s head.

Correction, that was overreacting.

“Say goodbye, motherfucker.”

Wait, he wouldn’t actually kill him, would he?

I looked over at Gio’s dad, then back at his brother, none of whom were fazed in the least. All my life I’d heard rumors about the Mancini’s. I knew they were dangerous, but it wasn’t until that moment that it sunk in. They weren’t just assholes. They were killers.

“I’m sorry.” Marty shook his head. “I shouldn’t have hit her.”

“You’re damn right.” Gio leaned in and snarled, “you marked my property.”

Really?

My face hurt and I’d probably have a bruise. But that hardly constituted this.

For half a second when Cesare stepped forward, I thought he was going to stop this. I was wrong.

“Perhaps we should go and get your wife, Marty, so Giovanni can return the favor.”

What kind of bullcrap was that? Marty’s wife didn’t do anything to anyone. That was a ridiculous solution.

Apparently, Gio didn’t agree. “That’s a good idea.”

There was no way in hell I was going to let some poor innocent woman get dragged into this.

I pushed myself up. “This is?—”

That’s all I got out before a hand clamped on my shoulder, pushing me back down on the ground.

“You stay right there.” Romeo said without so much as glancing down at me.

Oh, hell no.

“Listen here you piece of shit…”

“Shut the fuck up Nova!” Gio barked out so loud that his voice echoed in the air. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“It doesn’t concern his wife either.” I pointed out.

They needed to leave her out of it.

“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

That was it.

“Oh I’m sorry.” I snapped back, despite the bite of Romeo’s fingers digging into my shoulder. “I was confused by the use of my name.”

I didn’t see any other Novas here. Besides, I was so done with assholes and idiots and people who took things out on people who didn’t deserve it. What gave them the right?

One look.

That’s all it took.

Gio’s eyes met mine, and my mouth clamped shut faster than a virgin’s legs on prom night. There was a darkness in his stare. A threat so cold I could feel a chill in my very soul. But it was too late. The tone of his voice told me that.

“You want me to leave his wife alone, fine.”

Gio looked back at Marty as I gulped down a heavy swallow.

“Which hand did you hit her with?”

I didn’t like the sound of that, and neither did Marty. He looked from Gio to his dad and back again, before shakily holding up his left hand.

There was no hesitation. No warning or sign other than the pounding pulse in my chest as Gio moved the gun to Marty’s hand and pulled the trigger.

I clamped my palms over my head to muffle the loud bang ringing through my ears. It took a second for my brain to register the blood dripping on the floor from Marty’s ripped and torn flesh.

He shot him!

Gio actually shot him.