2

MIA

Tomorrow.

It kept hitting me like a sledgehammer. I’d had six months to prepare, but tomorrow was too soon. Tomorrow was already here.

Midnight blinked on the display of my phone. In twelve hours, Dad would hand me off to the guy who had allegedly delivered a head to the Legion MC president, among other rumors that had made me lie awake at night and count my blessings that she was marrying him.

Now that I’d inherited Carmela’s duty, nothing would ever be the same. Not that I enjoyed my routine. If I wasn’t baking ziti for a grieving widow, I wrote sympathy cards. When the only floral arrangements you picked were for funerals, shit was bleak.

A person got used to death.

I felt like a triage nurse, scrambling to pick up the pieces before the next tragedy. For the Ricci men, my marriage would be a cease-fire, but for me it meant subservience. Cooking, cleaning, looking pretty for whatever family function or political fundraiser, and raising children.

What would my life be like in a month?

Would I make it that long?

Alessio’s face materialized in the darkness. Earlier, he’d stepped into my room, so he was easy to conjure. Every encounter with him was memorable, but he’d never said so many jaw-dropping things.

I want kids. When we’re married, we’ll start trying.

How could I have sex with him?

My loathing swam under a deep attraction that had simmered during the last six months. The layer of denial was so thick, I’d trained myself to ignore the claw in my gut, but it wouldn’t be set aside, and the pain was excruciating.

I slid off my bed, kicking the torn save-the-date that he’d ripped like an old receipt. When we got married, he’d treat me like a vessel for his legacy. He would tear me from my family and dump me into another one filled with the people who’d hunted my uncles and cousins. I’d watch my dreams blacken as Alessio and his dark energy consumed me. Everything I loved about myself would die.

No.

I wouldn’t marry him.

I gazed at the murky, rain-spattered landscape outside my window. A beautiful life waited for me. Far from Boston’s crimson streets, I’d begin anew. Happiness. Peace. Love. I wanted them so badly, and I’d never have them with Alessio.

I gathered my things. Relics of what I was leaving weighed my backpack, and I laughed at the bitter irony. After I packed, I shouldered my bag and crept across the landing. Slowly, I eased downstairs. Light from my dad’s office illuminated the floorboards, which groaned with his weight.

No, no, no.

My father’s stout frame padded to the foyer as he flipped on the lights, illuminating the staircase. His face betrayed zero surprise at my getaway.

“Go back to bed. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“No.”

The world had gone mad. Topsy-turvy. Insane. Up was down. Black burned white. And at the center of the crazy was my father.

I struggled to find any resemblance between us. The physical details were there, but I’d absorbed none of his mania for the family.

I couldn’t always get my way, but this was intolerable.

“I’m not marrying that bastard.”

“Remember who you’re talking to.”

“My dad, who said I’d never have to marry a wiseguy. You promised. You gave me your word that you wouldn’t interfere in my personal life.”

“And I meant it,” he growled, as though irritated I’d reminded him of his failure. “When your sister agreed to the match. But she passed away.”

I loathed that phrase. “She was murdered.”

“I know, hon. It’s hard for me, too.”

“Her body could be anywhere—” I broke off, my vision flooding with hot tears. “And we still don’t have justice. I can’t let her go.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“You want me to marry him.”

“It’s the best thing for all of us. I can’t lose you, too.”

I couldn’t look at him, or I’d cry. “Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe.” Dad met me halfway up the stairs. “I love you so much.”

“Then release me.”

“I wish I could, but he’ll be here soon.”

“You can’t expect me to move on with her fiancé. Dad, it’s insane. Everything about this is nuts.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s this or get shot walking to the grocery store. Not just me. Your cousins. Uncles. Mother. You. You’re my heir. The last surviving link to our fortune. They’ll come after you. They’ll kidnap you. Force you into marriage or worse, rape you. Give you a baby, take what’s mine, and threaten your kid whenever you step out of line.”

“You’re lying.”

“Oh, sweetheart. The Irish and the bikers are animals. They’re not as evolved as we are.” He chucked me under the chin, his tone thick with emotion. “Violence is all they understand. And you’re better off married to a man from a respectable Italian family—that’s Alessio.”

“No, Daddy. There’s nothing I respect about him.”

“We won’t survive unless we make peace. Uniting our families starts with a marriage.”

“I don’t want to be part of this anymore.”

“You can’t walk away.”

“Then I’ll call the police.”

“Go ahead. Alessio owns city hall and the cops. A shed isn’t built without his say-so. He’s got a cop guarding his house. He has the governor’s ear. Nobody can stop him from being your husband.”

“What if he hurts me?”

“You’re my daughter.” Dad cupped my cheeks, his eyes swimming. “You can handle him. Marrying Alessio and building a life with him is more important than anything.”

What about my happiness? “He’s a murderer.”

“So what? Killers run this world. One day, your sons will be killers.”

Alessio would break my spirit. What was left of it, anyway, and the cycle would continue. Only it’d be my children getting hurt, and I wouldn’t be able to ignore my feelings. No matter where I looked, there was bleak horizon.

“What about Carmela?”

Dad flinched. “What?”

“How am I supposed to be with my sister’s fiancé?”

“There’s nothing left of Carmela to feel betrayed.”

I could still see her perched on my bed, panicking about her engagement to Alessio.

“I can’t accept that.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You don’t have a choice. None of us have—”

I ripped away from Dad and ran out the door.

“Wait!” he yelled.

I hailed a taxi and took off as Dad stumbled outside in an alcohol-soaked haze. Rain drenched my father as he stood on the lawn and screamed. He shouted my name as my cab turned the corner.

MY ESCAPE PLAN WAS INTACT. The car was parked in a lot that didn’t open for hours. I needed to lay low, but I couldn’t wander the streets of Boston. I’d been photographed too often next to my dad. My face splashed the Times whenever we buried a family member, which meant even street thugs recognized me.

The five thousand in cash was in my bag. I’d have to make it stretch until Portland. Dad read my credit card statements and had access to my accounts. A notification would pop up in his email as soon as I bought something.

I exited the taxi and descended to the subway, escaping the growing darkness. I switched lines at random and mingled with the rush-hour traffic. There was safety in numbers, but my father’s men would find me. They’d check the bus and train stations, airport, and the metro. The junkyard didn’t open until ten.

Where could I go to wait?

My back was stiff from hours of sitting. The riders dwindled to a handful before I changed trains and headed toward Lower Roxbury, where David lived. He was my on-again-off-again fling—the only mafioso I stomached. I’d run the gamut of wiseguys, and they tended to stick between cruel and dumb. Most never finished high school. Some of the older guys, the ones from huge families who relied on every working hand, never dabbled in public education. David was an obnoxious ass for telling everyone about us, but I was safe with him.

Fifteen minutes later, I approached his apartment. David sat on his porch, drinking. He had a bad habit of hanging outside, gun in his lap like a goddamned sheriff. I discouraged him against being a target for the Costas, but David had patted my head as though he found my concern adorable. He was my age, fair-haired, and good-looking in the traditional sense. He respected my boundaries, even when my father wasn’t there to destroy him.

He waved at me as I crossed the street. Then he drained his glass and rushed to greet me.

“Hey.” He enveloped me in a bear hug and rubbed my back. “I haven’t seen you since the memorial. How are you?”

“Not great.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be. Come.” His sympathetic smile transformed into a rakish grin. “I’ll make you feel better. At least for a little while.”

God, I really wasn’t supposed to be here.

I allowed him to pull me into his brownstone. Usually, we got only a few steps inside before ripping each other’s clothes off. David pushed me against the wall, his gaze heavy with an unspoken promise. Alessio’s warning burned in my mind, consuming any desire. Before his lips touched mine, I palmed his chest.

“That’s not why I came. I’m in trouble.”

David hesitated, his smirk still intact. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that horrible.”

“Trust me. It’s bad. Can we sit?”

“Sure.”

Frowning, he took my hand and led me into his house, a sparsely decorated bachelor pad with only the essentials. Aside from a table and a sofa, he had zero furniture and didn’t seem to give a damn about decorating. I couldn’t imagine sleeping on that camp bed every night or living in this barebones apartment, but I’d never asked for more from our relationship. Neither had he. On some level, we must’ve known this wouldn’t last. Which was probably why he didn’t flinch with my next words.

“David, I have to leave.”

“Yeah?” He hunkered near the window, scanning the glistening streets. “Where are you going?”

It wouldn’t do any good to tell him. “I don’t know. I have to go before they—before my dad forces to marry him. Alessio Salvatore.” A fresh wave of misery hit me when he shot upright, hands balled at his sides.

“You’re kidding.” In seconds, his attitude shifted from nonchalant to furious. “Holy shit, Mia. We’ve been messing around while you’re with him?”

“No, we haven’t. I’m not a cheater…he was my sister’s fiancé. It was an arranged marriage. A peace offering to the Costas. When she died, I thought it was over. Now everyone seems to think I’m marrying him, and I have no choice. They expect me to walk down the aisle with a man who terrifies me. No fucking way.”

David was silent, his young face reflecting shock. A stab of pity nagged at me as he rubbed his neck, mouth agape.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put this on you. Coming here was selfish. I wouldn’t have, but there’s nobody else. Please, help me. Please. I don’t want to be his wife.”

“Ignacio must be searching for you.”

A fist-sized lump bulged in my throat at the mention of my father. He was sobbing when I left, and I never even said goodbye to Mom.

How was she taking my absence?

“I need somewhere to stay for a few hours.”

I quieted the storm in my head as David absorbed everything with hardening features. He’d never been cold around me, but his withdrawal was almost palpable—as though he’d walked out of the room.

“You should leave.”

I must’ve heard wrong. “What?”

“Go to him. There’s nothing I can do. Even if I wanted to fuck with Salvatore, you won’t get ten miles. He’ll catch you, and then he’ll make an example out of me. I wish I could do something, but...you’re screwed.”

“He won’t find me. I’ve planned this for months. I just need somewhere to lay low.”

“Salvatore won’t allow you to disappear.” David wheeled to my side, his lips set in a grim line. “If you’d have let me ask your father for permission, we’d be more than a fling. Perhaps that would’ve been enough to keep you out of Salvatore’s hands. Now we’ll never know.”

“David, come on. How could I have known this would happen?”

“You were always going to belong to someone. Sorry, Mia.” David slipped a phone from his pocket. “I can’t help you.”

I glanced at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“If you don’t go, I’m calling your dad.”

“Don’t!” I made a grab for the cell, but he lifted it out of reach. “David!”

“You’re not leaving me much choice. Ignacio will realize you were here. If something happens to you—”

“—what do you think he’ll do when he finds out you were dating me?”

“Maybe he’ll beat the shit out of me. Frankly, I’m more worried about Salvatore.”

Great—even David was scared of him.

“David, please. I’ll leave. Don’t call my fucking dad.”

“Fine” He closed his phone, his brows knitting with sympathy. “I really am sorry, but you have to go.”

The one guy I trusted would rather sell me out. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

My shoulder collided with his as I bolted from the living room and blazed down the steps, flying into a pitch-black street.

A tall man lounged by a car, texting. He buried his phone in his slacks and pushed off the BMW. His suit bled into the darkness as he stepped into my path. The smile carving into his cheeks stole my hope.

Alessio.

“Found you.”