Chapter 2
Chapter Two
RAFE
The Arizona desert looked too much like Afghanistan, Iraq, Saudi—any desert armpit I’d been on assignment in—this looked almost exactly the same. I narrowed my eyes at the horizon. This body shop seemed isolated here in the canyon, but the ghost of a tiny town could be seen in the distance.
We weren’t safe here, because it lacked the high ground that would give us a good vantage point. I was wrong to believe we would be safe. MCs weren’t safe, but neither was the Mafia, and here we were, setting up a deal that would use the MC to facilitate the arms trade between the Mafia and the cartel in northern Mexico.
It didn’t matter. I was here to protect Adelina. After I’d turned down several jobs Massimo had offered, this one seemed a better fit. Plus, I’d get to ride on the open road—the only love I might experience in this life. Furthermore, I wouldn’t have to deal with all the politics between the Don and capos.
On this assignment, I could focus on my niece and her safety.
Adelina had been innocent while living at the center of one of the largest crime families in the States. Something my older brother now controlled. But I could thank him for sheltering his girls, keeping them away from the ugliness of the business while giving them a very comfortable life. Too bad he couldn’t do the same for me.
The problem had arisen when my brother’s ambitions outgrew his station in la Famiglia. With that, Adelina became a pawn. Guess I was too, because Massimo handed me over to the MC without batting an eye. I was a good soldier though, or even a good pawn.
I would keep an eye on Adelina and answer when my brother gave orders.
I tightened my hand on my gun, watching for signs of danger. Adelina moved closer to me, her hot breath dragging across my neck. I wanted to hold her until she was no longer trembling, but any comfort I would offer wasn’t my rightful place.
Protection. Safety. Those were mine.
She might be putting on a strong front, but when I looked, I could see the signs of anger and distress—her pouty bottom lip, the way she clenched and released her fists at her sides, and how she tapped her toes when she thought no one was watching.
The big guy—her soon-to-be husband—released her, basically throwing Adelina toward her father, and stalked over to stand beside Wilde. The Prez and VP argued quietly, their voices barely buzzing like bees at work.
I was now a patched member in this MC, so I had every right to insert myself into their argument. But I had my duty.
To Adelina, who now stood barefoot and bloody beside my brother.
Massimo had his arm wound around Adelina’s shoulders, holding her like a good father might comfort his daughter. I hated him for that touch. For stealing it from me.
If he hurt her anymore, I might break every one of the fingers in the hand responsible.
I looked away, shame washing over me at the wrongness of my protective need for her.
Everything about this was wrong. We shouldn’t still be out in the open, especially after being attacked. This had gone sideways, and we never should’ve brought Adelina to the desert like this.
I blamed my brother. I thumbed the safety of my gun, considering who to shoot first: my brother, Adelina’s future husband, or myself.
The adrenaline spike during the fight was slowly washing away, and I missed how it deadened my falling sensation. Without the buzz of a fight coursing through my veins, I started to spiral.
The world twisted around me. The gunshots still rang in my ears, mixing with the blood rushing past my eardrums and the red haze over my vision. The visions of the faces—all the lives I’d stolen—lurked at the edges of my mind. It all left me clenching my jaw.
I had been in combat, in the thick of bullets raining down from unknown vantage points desert war zones. All of this felt too familiar.
Too carelessly cruel.
Too blindly violent.
Instead of my Marine brothers, I had a ragtag MC. A renegade band of brothers with no military skills. They had a saying in the Marines about allies and enemies: “No better friend, no worse enemy, than a U.S. Marine.”
Right now, I didn’t trust these outlaws enough to call them brothers. No goddamn Semper Fi in this hell hole.
A few capos gathered around my brother, getting their asses chewed while Adelina still huddled at Massimo’s side, and I wanted to pull her away and tuck her inside. Away from the chaos.
The voices layered on top of one another, an onslaught of arguing that would tear apart this delicate agreement between a Mafia Don and an MC Prez. I pressed my palms to either side of my head to try to dull the noise and focus.
After every present voice, I could hear Adelina’s Nonna in all her disdain for me, taking out her frustration for her husband’s infidelity on me. “Figlio di puttana.”
“NO!” I gritted out.
I’d run from it before, but I couldn’t spiral anymore. Deep in my throat, I started humming, a constant noise to drown out the real and perhaps not real voices.
When the low buzz took center stage in my head, I let go and looked around the MC headquarters. It sat in an open cavern with nothing to protect us from being picked off one-by-one. This setting put Adelina’s life in danger. She had an independent streak a mile long, and with this much open space and danger lurking over the hill, she’d get herself killed.
Adelina had already slipped away from her father—without me realizing—and yapped on the phone, probably bitching to her mother or Catalina.
I marched over to her. “Adelina, let’s go inside.”
She held up her hand to my face, cutting me off and continued to talk. I followed like a dog on her heels. She spoke in Italian, and I could only follow if the speaker spoke slowly and in simple terms... and if I wasn’t humming to keep my head on straight.
Italian hadn’t been my first language like Massimo and Adelina. I didn’t start learning the language until my mom died when I was twelve and I moved in with the father Massimo and I shared. I could barely make out the words with how quickly she talked.
I ground my teeth and reminded myself I was safely back on American soil.
“Adelina,” I barked as she still talked on the phone. “Get off the phone.”
As soon as the command was loose, Massimo strolled over, adding, “And go talk to your future husband.”
“Why don’t you go give him a blow job, Papà?” Adelina snapped at Massimo, and the smile fell from my brother’s face. I couldn’t even laugh before she continued, “It’s not my fault you dragged me into this shit and earned me life debt.”
“I wasn’t the one who ran outside,” said Massimo.
“You got me into this! You used me as leverage?—”
I stepped between Massimo and Adelina, halting both sides of the heated conversation. The MC members had all stopped talking and stared. She let out a frustrated bellow and thrusted her chest and body against me, her arms reaching toward her father. Massimo yelled too, and I lost track of what they said.
All the yelling—too loud.
The motorcycles.
The gunshots.
The whistling wind.
Figlio di puttana!
“Fuck,” I muttered, caught between them.
“Stop acting like a brat,” snapped Massimo. “This isn’t how I raised you.”
She scoffed. “Stop acting like you raised me at all, Papà. Rafe was around more than you until he was away at war. And whose doing was that?”
Massimo threw up his hands and stalked off toward Wilde.
“That was my choice,” I said to her in a voice for only her ears.
“This is bullshit,” snapped Adelina, backing away from me and shaking her head.
“Adelina,” I warned. The MC was still watching.
“Yeah, I know.” She waved her hand dismissively, calming down almost immediately and looking so much like her father in that moment. She jabbed a finger into my chest. “But you’re helping me get out of this fucking mess. No matter what.”
It was the no matter what that concerned me.