Gun Moll (34 page)

Over and over,
Guido repeated the process.

Mac was still
trying to get the damn tie off from around his neck. Yeah, he figured out what
Guido was choking him with, when he realized the fat fucker wasn’t wearing his
loosened tie anymore.

Kicking against
the bar did him no good. Fighting against Guido’s hold got him nowhere.
Instead, the Capo just slammed Mac into the hard bar top, causing his head to
snap against the surface.

More water poured
over his face, but Mac had finally closed his mouth and it didn’t choke him
this time.

Not that it
mattered.

He was running out
of time to figure something out.

Muddy in his mind,
out of air, and blurred in his vision.

“I fucking made
you,” Guido repeated darkly. “And this is how you repay me?”

But I didn’t
, Mac
thought.

He hadn’t done any
of that to Guido.

What difference
did it make now?

His vision blinked
in and out. He no longer had the strength to fight at all as his legs began to
go slack against the bar top. No matter what, he refused to give up.

Mac kept trying to
pull the tie away from his throat, knowing it was pointless. Guido was holding
it firm, determined to see his plan through.

But he wouldn’t
give up.

It wasn’t Mac’s
style.

He’d die
trying—honorable men always did.

A rushing sound
filled his ears. His blood, likely.

Just as his eyes
began to close, the tie loosened and Guido flew backwards with a roar. It took
Mac several gasps of air before he realized he could breathe. Each breath hurt
him a little bit more than the last to take.

“Move.” He heard the
word screamed.

Mac shook his
head.

“Fucking bitch!”

He clenched his
fingers, moved his legs, and tried to see straight.

“Mac, please!”

A loud pop cut
through the club, but it was still dulled to Mac’s senses. It was almost like
he was underwater listening to it all.

Turning his head
to the side, Mac blinked and focused.

It was just a
second.

One split second
for him to see her.

Melina
.

Gun drawn and
pointed, tears streaking down her face, and she was shouting at him again.
Mac’s mind just wouldn’t work like it needed to. He took another deep breath,
willing the air and oxygen to do what it needed to do.

Suddenly, Melina
dropped to the floor, and Mac heard another round of pops fire off. It wasn’t
from her gun that time.

“I’ll kill you,
cunt,” he heard Guido growl.

Finally, Mac
moved. And he moved a hell of a lot faster than he thought he could, as his
knees met the bar top and he scrambled fast towards where he had started out
before Guido dragged him along.

The item he wanted
was just inches from his fingers.

His gun.

Melina rose to
stand again, but her gun was down at her side.

Mac turned at the
same time with a gun in his own hand as he flicked the safety off and cocked
back the hammer.

She shouldn’t have
stood up, he realized.

Guido was already
aiming and his finger was twitching on the trigger.

Mac didn’t think.

Not about the
consequences, Cosa Nostra, or anything else.

He just pulled the
trigger.

Guido didn’t even
notice Mac had moved, that he was alive, and he certainly didn’t see the bullet
coming until it entered the side of his head. Blood and brain matter sprayed
from the exit wound on the other side of the Capo’s head a second before his
large body dropped to the floor with a loud thud. His gun clanked out of his
slack hand.

Mac swayed for a
second, still not right in the head or all that steady on his feet. He heard
Melina scream for him as the gun fell from his hand and he dropped sideways,
tumbling off the bar with a groan as pain shot through his throat and chest at
the same time.

He barely even
felt the floor when he hit it.

At least Melina
had finally let him shoot the fucking gun for once.

“Mac!” Melina was
at his side in a flash, her soft hands roaming over his face and neck. She was
still crying, and while Mac wanted to reassure her that he was fine, his throat
was raw and dry. The words didn’t come. Or maybe they didn’t want to. “Oh, my God.”

Mac swallowed,
grabbed her wrists, and stopped her movements. Melina caught his gaze,
quieting. “I told you … to stay home.”

Melina gave him a
look. “You knew I wasn’t going to do that.”

“You could have
been hurt, doll.”

“I figured it
might not be me they were coming for,” she whispered.

Yeah, shit.

Mac rested his
head to the floor of the club. From his position, he could see that the bar was
a fucking mess.

Melina was already
moving onto another topic. “We have to get rid of it.”

“Get rid of what?”

“The body, Mac.”

Mac wished his
throat didn’t feel like scorched flesh. “It’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure,” Melina
muttered above him.

It would be.

Luca gave his
word—Mac had to trust that.

Mac perched on the
edge of the bar, waiting for their guests. Melina slid in between his legs
without saying a word. He knew she was scared, but the woman was too headstrong
to admit it. She was also fretting over him, and pissed off because he told her
to chill out for a while.

Sliding an arm
around Melina’s waist, Mac pulled her closer and rested his cheek to the top of
her head.

“Almost over,” he
said quietly.

Melina nodded, but
stayed silent.

Mac expected her
shock to wear off at least by the time they were home.

He heard the front
door of the club open, and Melina stiffened in his arms. “Don’t worry, doll.”

“Easier said than
done,” she replied.

Mac knew she was
right.

Before long, Luca
Pivetti and his two closest men were standing in the middle of the club. Not
one said as word, but all scanned the place, taking in the mess at the bar, the
body of Guido still unmoving on the floor, and the puddle of blood that had
finally stopped spreading.

Finally, Enzo
spoke up.

“Your suspicions
were right,” he said to Luca.

Luca gave a single
nod. The boss flicked Mac with a look, saying a million and one things without
even opening his mouth.

Mac saw what was
most important.

Gratitude.

“Get rid of it,”
Luca said to his underboss, waving at Guido’s corpse. Then, he jerked a thumb
at his other man. “Matthew, clear the security footage in his office. Call
someone if you need help.”

Luca spun on his
heel, leaving.

Mac cleared his
throat, wincing at the ache it left behind. “And me?”

Slowly, Luca
turned back around with a smile. Usually, when the man smiled it came off as
cold. This didn’t feel like that at all.

“Go home,” Luca
said. “I will call you when, or if, I need you.”

Mac’s arm
tightened around Melina again. “Okay, Boss.”

“Well done, Mac.”

Mac sipped hot
coffee and stared out the window. He’d made a place on the corner chair, and
decided he really didn’t want to move for a while.

That happened to a
man when he was almost killed.

Melina asked him
several times to go to the hospital and get checked out. She wanted to make
sure his windpipe wasn’t injured in some way. Thankfully, she didn’t put up too
much of a fight when he refused.

But she did go
into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

It was like radio
silence.

Mac wasn’t sure
what to do. He wanted to go to her and make whatever was wrong go away, but he
also needed to process everything that had happened.

Melina would
understand.

She always did.

Mac finally shed
his clothes and crawled into bed, well after midnight. He found Melina on his
side of the bed, hiding under sheets and blankets, so he settled into her side
with his back to the bed and an arm behind his head acting as a pillow.

In the darkness of
the bedroom, he watched the outline of Melina’s bare shoulder rise and fall
with her breaths. It was almost soothing. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed
like that, watching her sleep, but eventually he moved closer and closer to his
girl until they were both under the sheets and she was firmly tucked into his
body.

Mac only realized
it once he had Melina as close to him as he could have her, but he finally felt
like he could really breathe and think again.

He’d needed that
so badly.

“You finally came
to bed, huh?”

Mac wasn’t
surprised that he had woke Melina. “Sorry. I was just …”

“It’s fine, Mac.”

“It’s not, but I
am now.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, feeling her back push into
his chest.

“I still think you
should go to the hospital. You sound terrible. It hurts just hearing your
voice.”

Mac sounded raspy,
mostly, but the ache had left. It still hurt when he swallowed most of the
time. “I will. First thing tomorrow. I promise.”

Melina turned in
the bed, tucking her head under his chin, and wrapping her arms around his
sides. Mac held her tighter, too, because damn … closer was better.

With her, closer
was always better.

“Thanks for having
my back again,” he murmured.

Mac should have
told her that hours ago, but he had been stuck in his own thoughts, trying to
figure out all the shit he had missed that led up to those final moments.