“He will,” Alfonso responds. “I can see it on his face. He’s hanging up his guns, and who better to hand them to than the strongest player in town?”
The old bastard is right about one thing, I’m considering throwing in the towel. It isn’t because of him or the threats he made. It’s for Brianna and the life we can live. I want to be at her side, keeping that belly full with my offspring.
But before I can go off and spend my days with the woman I love, I have to see a few more things through.
Victor and I make it back to Johnny, who’s waiting for us in a high-rise parking lot across the street from Alfonso’s front business. It’s a pizza restaurant with a stereotypical Italian chef as its mascot.
He’s set up three lawn chairs next to my Range Rover. A blue cooler box is cracked open, with beer cans flooding a dense layer of ice.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Johnny’s lounging in one of the chairs with a cold beer in one hand and a lit smoke in the other.
“Thought we should watch the fireworks in style,” he says.
“Are we sure this is even going to work?” Victor asks.
Johnny shrugs. “No idea, pal. Seeing where the wind takes me on this one.”
“Might as well be comfortable if we’re going to wait.” I crumble into the lawn chair and grab a beer.
And we do wait. For hours. Day turns to night while the three of us crack jokes and pretend life is normal. It isn’t the first time we’ve done something like this, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
As the night, and the beers, come to an end, Alfonso and Leo emerge from the pizzeria. The staff left long ago, and the only car parked on the sidewalk is theirs.
“Here it comes,” Johnny launches out of his chair and leans over the concrete barrier to get a better look.
Alfonso and his son get into their car. A few seconds pass, and nothing. It’s dead quiet while we hold our breaths in anticipation. I’m not a praying man, but now would be the time if I were. If this doesn’t pan out the way I planned it, we’re in for one hell of a—
My thought gets cut off by a loud bang from street level.
“It fucking worked,” Johnny’s elation can’t be contained.
I step over to investigate and see flames engulf the framework of Alfonso’s vehicle.
“Like I said, a car bomb works right as rain. No use getting our hands dirty.”
We’re in my Range Rover and on the road long before police sirens crack the cold night air.
Our job here is done, and with it, the rest of my life with Brianna can start.
Chapter 13
Brianna
It’s been hours, and I haven’t heard a single word from Mickey. To say I’m scared is an understatement. I knew the risks of what he was doing when he stepped out the door this morning, but they hadn’t set in until much later. They came in like a hurricane ripping my mind to pieces. Losing Mickey so soon after becoming his has made me a mess. I can’t eat, drink . . . Jesus, I can barely think straight.
His apartment is too big and too empty without him here. I collapse on his bed and curl myself into a little ball. I hate being in here. It reminds me of that special night we spent together. My first time, handing myself to Mickey and letting him know, I’m his and his alone.
The fear of losing him makes me want to cry. But I’ve only ever seen Mickey win, and there’s no reason to believe he won’t today.
How long would it take me to find out if something did happen to Mickey? It becomes one of the predominant thoughts as day disappears into the night. He isn’t going to the golf club with the boys. Mickey’s walking into the Italian mob’s den and demanding they leave us alone.
While my thoughts run down the road of what might be, I hear keys at the front door. Mickey steps inside with the wide grin of a man who’s done what he set out to do.
“Brianna?” he shouts, flinging his keys onto the lock. “I brought Chinese food. Didn’t know what you liked, so I got a mixed bag. Egg rolls, noodles, rice, it’s all here.”
I lift out of my seat and run to him. His casual talk of foreign cuisine falls on deaf ears while I sprint. He’s in the kitchen with his back turned to me, unpacking the bags when I get there.