Michael
After our shower, Katie insists we grab snacks before we go to the theater room. The pantry’s completely hers now—Skittles, Milky Ways, popcorn, Dr. Pepper, the cereal she used to eat as a kid, and Fruit Roll-Ups she keeps buying for me. I don’t even question it anymore. I just reach for them.
“So what are we watching?” I ask, dropping into one of the recliners.
She’s got everything set up already, snacks laid out, and the remote in hand.
“What decade are we pulling from?” she asks, looking at me. “You want something new? Or something vintage. You know. Your era.”
“Fuck you,” I say, smiling.
“You already did that. You don’t get a repeat tonight.”
“You should be very grateful I love you.”
She gives a small shrug. “Right back at you.”
I reach for the remote, but she pulls it out of reach.
“No. I’m picking. You’ll choose something stupid.”
“Excuse me?” I say, already standing.
She squeals and bolts.
“No, you don’t,” I say, going after her.
She runs the length of the room, cutting around furniture, trying to stay out of reach. It doesn’t last long. I trap her in the corner.
“Michael,” she says, breathless, one hand up between us, the other hiding the remote behind her back. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I ask.
I step in and grab her anyway, hauling her against me. She laughs harder when I lift her, tossing her over my shoulder. She squirms the whole way back, but she’s not going anywhere. I drop her onto the couch, her laughter spilling out as she lands.
I come down over her, smiling.
“What are you going to do?” she asks, her face flushed.
I lean in and kiss her, just enough to make her breathe a little harder. When I pull back, I brush her hair out of her face.
“I love you,” she says.
“I know,” I murmur. “I kind of love you too.”
She pulls me back down, kissing me again.
“I thought we were watching a movie,” I say against her mouth.
“We will,” she says, already kissing me again. “In a minute.”
A throat clears near the door.
“What the fuck?” I snap.
“Sorry, Boss.”
Marco.
Katie buries her face in my shoulder, embarrassed. I lean down, lowering my voice.
“It’s okay.”
I push up off the couch, rubbing a hand down my face, irritation already setting in.
“What’s so important you couldn’t knock?” I ask.
“I did, sir.”
Shit.
“Talk.”
His eyes flick to Katie as she sits up on the couch, then back to me. He hesitates.
“Spit it out, Marco.”
“That package,” he says. “The one we thought was lost.”
That gets my attention.
“It was delivered,” he continues. “It’s in your office.”
I nod. “I’ll be there shortly.”
He leaves, and I turn back to Katie. The disappointment on her face is obvious.
I sit down beside her. “I’m sorry, Doll. It won’t take long. Half an hour tops.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” I brush my thumb along her cheek. “Go to our room. Read your filthy cowboy book.”
That makes her smile.
“I’ll come get you when I’m done. We’ll watch the movie after.”
“Fine. But you owe me a date night. Just you and me. Dinner and a movie. In a theater.”
I smile. “Anything you want.”
“I’m not joking, Michael.” She presses up against my chest. “You owe me buttered popcorn, slushies, and loads of candy.”
I laugh. “Okay. Okay. I’ll even get you one of those big pretzels you like.”
Her eyes get big. “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I don’t know. You might get lucky again tonight if you keep talking like that.”
That pulls a big laugh out of me, and she looks pleased with herself. I cup her face and kiss her.
I take her hand, and we walk to the foyer together. At the stairs, we separate. She heads upstairs. Halfway up, she turns.
“Half an hour,” she says. “You promised.”
“Go. Your cowboy is waiting for you,” I smile.
She sticks her tongue out and heads the rest of the way up the stairs. I watch her turn to our bedroom, and then I turn down the hall toward my office.
When I open the door, my men are already inside, lined up. Marco and Enzo stand at the center, holding a man between them. His head hangs forward.
“Boss.”
Adam steps out of line and hands me a pistol.
I spread my hands. “Well, look who finally decided to show the fuck up.”
Then I swing, the butt of the pistol cracking against Sal’s jaw.