The Accardi Twins: A Mafia Romance Duet

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Joshua

O ur crew takes out four of their men before they’ve even realized they’re under siege. The others dive for cover behind dumpsters full of building materials, large equipment, and a corrugated steel hut, which I’m guessing is the foreman’s office.

We trade gunfire, Caleb and I sticking close together as we take aim and shoot. Their guys are dropping like flies because they are outmatched and outmaneuvered. “Fancy going old school?” Caleb asks when there are only three guys left standing.

“Thought you’d never ask.” I grin at my twin.

We shoot the firearms from the enemies’ hands, leaving them unarmed and surrounded. Tucking my gun back into my holster, I glance at my brother as we walk calmly toward the men. Our guys hold back, weapons trained on the three goons as Caleb and I charge at them with our fists raised.

They enter into the spirit of things, and we throw punches and duck and dive like we’re in a ring. Caleb spars like a warrior, thanks to his time in Nepal, and though I’m not on his level, I’m not too shabby either. What I lack in skill, I make up for in enthusiasm and adrenaline as I pummel my fists into a dark- haired dude’s face and kick him in the gut, winding him. I sweep his legs out from under him as Caleb attacks the man in charge. The other guy is out cold on the floor.

Pouring every ounce of futility, frustration, and pent-up anger into my thrusts, I pound the guy’s face and head until his skull caves and the light goes out in his eyes. Blood coats my hands and splatters my face, and sweat sticks the clothes to my back. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and I wish there were ten more motherfuckers for me to beat. This has barely quenched my bloodlust.

“Enough, brother. He’s dead.” Caleb pulls me off him as I continue to lash out at his corpse.

“Accardi scum,” the long-haired dude says from his position on his knees. Several guns are trained on him, but our soldiers are under orders not to kill these survivors. We want them alive to interrogate them.

“Who are you?” I swipe blood from my face with my sleeve.

“Fuck. You. Pretty Boy.”

Caleb grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back hard. He hates that moniker. The New York media have called us The Pretty Boys of New York for years. Other, braver journalists have referred to us as The Poster Boys for the Mafia in New York. Those articles never last long on the web, and those journalists never live to write another accusation. “You’re in no position to throw shade, shit for brains.” Caleb taps his gun against the man’s face. “In case you hadn’t noticed, your friends are dead, and you’re next.”

“Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll make it quick.” I sidestep the blood pooling underneath the dead man’s skull. “Deny us the truth, and we’ll torture you to the brink of death and bring you back, over and over, until you tell us what we want to know.”

“You can try it, Pretty Boy, but I won’t break. I’m not telling you shit.”

Caleb punches him in the solar plexus, and he falls forward on his palms, wheezing and heaving.

“We need to leave,” I say, checking the sky for drones. This place is a virtual ghost town but we’ve just littered the air with gunfire, and someone might have heard. “Grab the two live ones and take them to the bunker.” We have a hidden bunker, buried deep underground, on Staten Island where we bring men for interrogation.

“No one is snitching on my watch,” the long-haired guy says, snatching a fallen gun from under a hunk of rock and peppering his colleague with bullets.

“No!” I shout as one of our men shoots him in the chest. “For fuck’s sake,” I snap when the long-haired asshole falls on his side and blood bubbles in his mouth and flows from the wound on his chest. “What part of ‘don’t shoot to kill’ didn’t you understand?” I level a lethal look at the soldato in question, wondering who he is and if that was an innocent mistake caused by an eager trigger finger or a deliberate action to ensure we get no intel. Or maybe he was genuinely trying to protect Caleb and me. The jury is out. Did he pull that trigger on purpose? Is he working with the mole? Or a loyal made man? We need to find out. I eyeball our capo , and he instantly swings into action, disarming and restraining the man. Guess we’ll be interrogating someone after all.

“You’re all dead,” the fallen man says in fits and spurts as blood drips down his chin. His eyes are manic as his gaze locks on mine. “You have no idea who’s coming for you. He’s going to kill everyone.” His head lolls to the ground as all the life leaves his body.

“This is really starting to stink bad,” Caleb says three hours later when we’re finally back home. We separated to shower and clean off the blood and grime before reconvening in my penthouse. I refuse to step foot in Caleb’s messy den of iniquity.

“This has stunk from the start. What do you think he meant?” I ask, pouring us both a scotch. I pad across my living room in my bare feet and cotton pajama pants, handing him his drink.

“Who the fuck knows? He made it sound like whoever is behind this is not anyone we’re expecting.”

“Does he mean other Italian Americans?”

Caleb shrugs. “It’s a minefield, and my brain is too tired to decipher it at four thirty a.m.”

“I’m not sure I can sleep,” I admit, sinking onto the couch. “I’m still wired.”

“You get it all out of your system?” Caleb side-eyes me.

“Not even close.”

“What’s going on?” He dangles one sweatpants-covered leg over the side of the recliner chair as he sips his whisky and stares at me.

“I kissed Gia.”

He swirls the liquid in his glass. “You like her.”

“More than I should.”

“Why shouldn’t you like her?”

“Because I can’t. I swore I was never letting any woman in again, and I meant it.”

“You were made to be in a committed relationship, J. How long are you going to continue denying yourself?”

“I’m not denying myself.”

“Sure, you are, big brother.”

I groan. He only ever rolls out the big brother sentiment when he’s trying to prove a point or get his way about something. Most other times, he’ll argue it doesn’t matter that I was born first, eleven minutes before he made his grand entrance.

“You don’t believe in love either,” I remind him with a knowing look.

“We’re not talking about me, and are you saying you’re in love with Gia?”

“No. Fuck no.” I almost spit my scotch all over my polished floors.

“I think you protest too much.” He flashes me a mischievous grin. “It’s okay to admit it.”

“Like you’ll admit you have feelings for Elisa?”

“Of course, I have feelings for her. She’s my friend. I love her like a friend. That’s all.”

“Are you trying to convince me or you?” I ask, and he flips me the bird. I burst out laughing. “We’re both such delusional pricks.”

“The difference is you have a shot with Gia, and you should take it, brother. You’ve been miserable since things ended with Bettina, and your little list of fuck buddies doesn’t satisfy more than an itch.”

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this. We have more pressing problems than women.”

“Don’t deflect. If you really like Gia, you owe it to yourself to give it a shot. Not every woman is a backstabbing ho like your ex.”

“Gia thinks Cruz might have groomed Ina. She thinks my anger comes from my failure to protect her.”

“I definitely think some of your anger comes from your inability to keep her away from that asshole, but a lot of it rightly comes from betrayal.” Caleb finishes his drink and stands. “And if the grooming theory was correct, why the fuck is she still with him? I don’t buy he’s had a hold on her all this time without someone intervening. She’s got a big family. Lots of brothers. If they thought Cruz was forcing her to be with him, I’m sure they’d have found a way to extract her, don or not.”

“I agree.” I swallow the last mouthful and climb to my feet, stifling a yawn. “She knew what she was doing.”

“This is gonna sound hypocritical, but you need to let go of the hurt and the anger. You won’t move forward until you do. But fuck showing that bitch any sympathy. She doesn’t deserve it.” He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to let it go, broski. Put her behind you, and open yourself up to Gia. I have a feeling you won’t regret it.”