Gun Moll (36 page)

“Melina? What are
you doing here?” Dulcea rose from her seat and came over to where Melina stood.

“I was just in the
neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.”

“You mean you
still have time for us little people? Word on the streets is, you’re living the
life now.”

Melina laughed.
“Is that so?”

“Yeah. You’ve done
well for yourself. I always knew that someday there would be a man out there to
catch your eye and make you settle down.”

“Settle down? You
act like I’ve gotten married or something.”

“Maybe not yet,
but I’m sure that’s coming. The way I hear it, your new man is smitten with
you. I’m glad to hear that. You deserve someone who appreciates you.”

“Thank you,
Dulcea. That means a lot. It’s actually one of the reasons I came by. When I
needed a way to support myself, you gave it to me. You treated me with respect
and you didn’t cheat me. If it weren’t for you, things probably wouldn’t be as
great for me as they are now.”

“Hear that, girls?
Stick with me and you’ll go places just like Melina. Feels good to be thanked
every now and then.”

A few of the girls
gave Melina some less than friendly looks, but she ignored them. She’d never
cared much for the opinions of others and she wasn’t about to start now.

“You’re welcome.
Now, I guess I’ll be going.”

“It was good to
see you, but it’s probably a good idea if you do get going. We’re entertaining
a few VIPs and your presence here might be a conflict of interest for all
parties involved.”

Melina nodded. “I
get your drift. Well, it was good seeing you, Dulcea.”

“You too, Melina.”

Before she could
talk herself out of it, Melina hugged her former boss before she turned and
headed back towards the stairs.

Her feet never
touched the first step.

“Everybody down.
Hands on your heads right now.”

Armed men wearing
black vests stormed the room.

Badges flashed in
her face as they passed.

Police
.

Holy fuck.

Melina turned,
trying to get comfortable.

It didn’t work.

The concrete slab
was murder on her back. Day after day, week after week, this eight-by-eight
cell had been her new home.

Solicitation.

Prostitution.

Resisting arrest
with violence.

Illegal possession
of a firearm.

The pigs were
trying to railroad her and right now, they were succeeding. Her bail had been
firmly denied and every day the pigs had another go at her. They wanted
information about Luca Pivetti and Mac.

She told them
nothing.

Her silence
infuriated them.

The money she had
on her during her arrest—and mostly the basis for the official’s case—was
thoroughly tied up in Mac, and his work in Cosa Nostra. The pigs believed the
money came from whoring. Melina couldn’t out the truth without talking about
Mac in some way.

Her hands were
tied.

Literally.

They threatened
her and when that didn’t work, they tried to make deals with her. She would be
released with all charges dismissed, if she told them what they wanted to know.
Not once was she tempted.

Freedom meant
betraying the man she loved.

Freedom meant
putting his life in danger.

Freedom meant
taking away everything he’d ever worked for.

She wouldn’t do
that to Mac. Not now.

Not ever.

She missed his
kiss and his touch.

She missed waking
up next to him and going to sleep in his arms.

They had started
to build a life together and in one fell swoop, it had gone straight to hell
again. She’d been a fool to think things would stay the way they were. Fate
always had a way of stepping in and delivering a well-placed kick in the gut
when you least expected it.

“W
ell, what of it?”
Mac asked.

Randy set his
briefcase to the courthouse steps, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Despite
it being illegal to smoke on the steps, the lawyer lit one up and took a heavy
drag. “No dice, Mac. Bail denied again.”

Cursing low, Mac
smacked a cement pillar with his palm, wishing that would help with his
irritation. It didn’t help at all.

“Calm down,” the
lawyer mumbled around his cigarette. “We’ve got eyes all around this place
watching us right now.”

Mac’s gaze swept
the courthouse, looking for the people Randy mentioned. While he didn’t
immediately see anyone, he knew the lawyer was probably right. Mac, being who
he was, being affiliated to the mafia, was the only goddamn reason Melina was
behind bars right now and he couldn’t get her out.

“She’s going to
have to talk or do a bit of time,” Randy added after a long moment. “They’ve
got all their strings tied up in nice little bows, and in the process, they’ve
tied her up. She can’t admit to the money not coming from Dulcea’s place
without explaining where it did come from, and that’ll lead back to you. Then,
they’re opening her up right there for questioning about you, your money, and
where it comes from. Melina’s not going to do that.”

“And therefore,
not going to talk about the money at all,” Mac muttered.

“Guilty by her
silence,” the lawyer confirmed. “It’s a shitty situation, but we’re not looking
at a lot of time right now. A great deal of those charges will be dismissed in
the end.”

“Except the
possession of an illegal firearm, resisting arrest, and assault on an officer.”

Randy shrugged,
taking another drag from his cigarette. “What can I say? She got angry.”

Mac scowled,
knowing damn well Melina didn’t do well with cops. It wasn’t like he had
thought to tell his lover that if something came up in that kind of situation,
her best bet was to comply and shout for a lawyer as often as she could.

Things had changed
since a few months ago.

Now that Mac was
made, the changes were all the more apparent.

Like the fact that
Melina wasn’t his wife and that put him in a bad position with the family. When
a man’s woman got locked up, he had to concern himself with keeping his own
image clean. If the woman was his wife, it was easier to get by with visiting
her or working to her benefit to get her out.

Mac had to do all
of that on the low for Melina.

“Four months in
lockup, and it won’t be a prison out of state,” Randy said. “Seven months,
max.”

Mac clenched his
teeth, holding back his groan.

Seven months was
too long.

“It’ll be quicker
and easier, if she pleads it out,” the lawyer added.

“She won’t do
that,” Mac replied, already distracted and wishing there was something he could
do.

More
.

He wanted to do
more for his girl.

Mac knew Melina,
and there was no way in hell that girl was going to plead guilty to those
charges.

“No contest,
then?” the lawyer asked. “She’s not admitting guilt, just saying she’s not
willing to contest the charges or go to trial.”

The longer Mac
stood there, talking about his girl’s freedom like it should even be in
question, the more agitated he became. None of this would have even happened,
if he hadn’t come into Melina’s life and put her in the spotlight.

It wasn’t fair.

Mac would much
rather take the seven months off Melina’s hands then make her do it. God knew
he had done more than enough in his life to deserve time behind bars.

“I need an answer
on that,” Randy said, tossing his cigarette away.

Mac sighed, eyeing
the courthouse.

He wanted to talk
to Melina.

Luca ordered him
to stay away.

What the boss wanted,
he got.

Finally, Mac
nodded. “Convince her to plead no contest.”

“Will do. Anything
you want her to know?”

“Just tell her I’m
around—I’m here.”

That would be
enough for Melina to know Mac was keeping an eye on her, trying to take care of
this bullshit, and that he still loved her.

Of course, he did.

She was his gun
moll.

No man was worth
shit without his girl.

Mac couldn’t do
much else for Melina, without disobeying his boss.

And that right
there was his new life in a nutshell. All he worked for, he finally had. But
the thing he wanted the most, the person who had helped to get him there, was
now out of reach.

Mac hit the lock
button on the fob in his hand, making sure his Dodge Challenger was closed up
tight. Sticking his keys back into his pants pocket, he fixed his suit jacket
and scanned the street up one side and down the other. People milled about,
going in and out of the busy hub that was the very center of Hell’s Kitchen.

They barely seemed
to notice the Capo with a black bag in his hand as he strolled across the
street and entered a small pizzeria known for its sauce on pizzas, not to
mention the man who owned it.

Mac passed the
tables without picking one, nodding to an older gentleman he recognized that
was playing a game of checkers with a friend. The old man tipped his black,
wide-brimmed hat in Mac’s direction, and nothing more.

Respect was
everything—more importantly, it was everything to the men whose time had
already passed in the business of
la famiglia
. Despite their time having
come to an end when they passed on their reigns to other, younger men, the old
timers still hung around their familiar haunts.

And when they were
there, they deserved a proper acknowledgment.

Mac walked right
on past the cash where a woman was working at the register. She offered him a
look and a smile, but didn’t stop him as he went back into the kitchen of the
restaurant. The closer he came to the private offices at the rear of the
restaurant, the louder the voices became. Laughter and murmurs echoed above the
clanging noise of the chef in the kitchen.

The door to the
office was open, so Mac didn’t bother to knock.

It wasn’t the time
for knocking, anyway.

The moment he
stepped into the room, the voices quieted instantly.

At the head of the
office, sitting on the corner of a mahogany desk with a smoking cigar dangling
between the tips of his fingers, was Luca. The man waved a hand high at Mac’s
appearance.

“There you are,”
the boss muttered.

A good eight pairs
of eyes focused on Mac. Six other family Capos, and Luca’s two men, Matthew and
Enzo.

Mac checked his
watch. “Three minutes early, Boss.”

“Cutting it too
close, Mac.”

He didn’t argue
with the man. It wasn’t his place to do so, and here in this spot, he was not
to act familiar with Luca in any way. Luca was his boss, and nothing more.

Mac didn’t bother
to excuse his almost lateness to Luca, because the man wouldn’t be pleased to
know it was caused by Melina’s second bail hearing. Luca had warned Mac
repeatedly to let the lawyer handle it, and to keep a distance for the sake of
his new status in the Pivetti family.

Luca slid off the
desk, snuffing his cigar out in an ashtray. “One rule about today. What is it,
Mac?”

“Never be late,”
Mac said.

“Exactly. You do
not want to find out what happens if you are late.”

Enzo chuckled from
his seat on the couch. “Go easy on him, Luca.”

Luca cut his man
with a single look that shut him up instantly.

No favoritism.

Nothing else
mattered.

“It won’t happen,”
Mac promised, lifting his black bag higher for the boss to see. “And we’ve all
got better business to be getting to, yeah?”

Luca smiled. “We
do.”

Every second
Wednesday of the month was dedicated to nothing more than a Capo paying dues to
his boss. Mac had learned quickly in the last few weeks, since his rise in the
family that every second Wednesday was held with a sort of higher respect than
most other days. Money had to be down to the very last penny. Each and every
bill and coin was accounted for.

Mac quickly
learned how to keep books to prove where his money was coming in and out of, in
case he got questioned about certain cash flows like he had that first
Wednesday. Being a soldier for Guido all those years had been helpful,
especially when it came to taking control of a crew that Mac basically managed
alone for years, but it was nothing compared to having the actual title.

Being a Capo was
fucking tedious.

Penny-counting,
money-watching, time-crawling fucking tedious.

But Mac enjoyed
every second of it.

Over the next two
hours, Mac and the other Pivetti Capos paid the money due to their boss for
tribute. It seemed like issues rarely happened on tribute, because Luca was
known for his penchant to turn violent to make a simple point very clear to his
men.

Mac was not
interested in being one of them, but he was learning that he was expected to be
no different with his crew. In a matter of weeks, Mac had gone from being one
of the soldiers in the crew to essentially being their boss.

It was difficult
for some of them to separate the man they knew him to be for years, to the Capo
that didn’t have the time or patience for their bullshit.

But he made it
work.

His crew was easy.

It was the other
Capos that were making the transition of welcoming Mac into the folds more
difficult than it needed to be. He had heard enough whispers to know that not
all of the Capos felt he had earned his way into their Cosa Nostra, while
others felt that his initiation was invalid, as it hadn’t involved all of the
made men in the family.

If and when Mac
needed to deal with those issues, he would.

Luca had given him
fair warning about it, after all.

Once the men began
to trickle out of the back office, finished with tribute and dismissed by their
boss, Mac turned to leave as well.

Luca’s call
stopped him. “Wait a moment, Mac. Take a seat.”

Mac dropped into
the closest chair by the door, waiting as the last few men left the office,
some eyeing him from the side as they went. Once it was only Luca, Matthew,
Enzo, and Mac left behind, Luca nodded at the door.

Reaching over, Mac
closed it without a word.

“What can I do for
you, Boss?” Mac asked.

Luca thumbed
through a stack of bills on the table, handing over a pile to Matthew without a
word, and then another to Enzo. “How is the court thing going?”

Mac drummed his
fingers to his thigh. “Not well.”

“You’re keeping a
distance like I told you to, right?”

“As much as I
can.”