Riding Dirty: Luciotti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) - Kara Hart Page 0,55
me just fine. Just try not to aim for the head, boys. I’d like for my family to have one last viewing of me and I’d like to look my best.” I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, suddenly coughing up more blood.
“We’ll kill her too, you know.” Cade’s voice echoed off the tall ceilings of the building. From outside, I could hear the faint trickle from the Michigan waters.
“You wouldn’t,” I said.
“I would.” He ground his teeth wildly. “You think I give a shit about that woman?” He nearly screamed the words.
I looked back at the men. Carmelo stared at the ground as if his life depended on it. It was as if he thought he could wish himself out of the situation. I shook my head at him, making sure he could feel the level of my disappointment. First his men killed my uncle Tessio, then this?
“She’s the mother of your daughter,” I said. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
He laughed loudly and knelt down to my level. “She’s a little cunt who will end up just like her mother. I’ll be happy when she’s watching her mother suffer. Anyway, she’ll be mine soon enough. Now take the money I owe you, debt collector, and leave me the fuck alone. Our business is done.”
“I thought you wanted to strike a deal,” I sighed, grabbing at my ribs. My gun was lying across the room. It would be impossible to get to. My blade, however, was pressed against my leg.
The unknown man stepped forward. “The deal is you leave us alone. Cade is with us now. You fuck with him, you fuck with all of us,” he said.
“And who the fuck are you? I hear the Chicago accent, but I’ve never seen your kind in my life,” I said.
“We’re a new family. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Just stay the fuck away from us. Boys.” He nodded to Cade and Carmelo who stepped forward. In their hands was the faint glint of weapons. From what I could make out they were brass knuckles and a billy club, but they were sure to use their boots and fists too.
“Consider this a warning,” Cade said to me, securing the knuckles across his hand. This wasn’t going to feel good. Not one bit.
I closed my eyes as the feeling of unimaginable pain came falling across my face and body. Soon, I was unconscious and swimming in a pool of my own blood.
The sound of footsteps was behind me. A familiar voice. The feeling of hands. “Lucas! Lucas!” My name swirled inside and out of my mind. I couldn’t tell what was a dream and what was real. And the pain I felt seared against my nerves.
I opened my eyes to see Ricky standing over me. “Fuck, they got you good,” he said. “You look like a fucking grapefruit.”
“Fuck you,” I smiled. “I look incredible. Always.” Dried blood flaked from my nose and eyes. I didn’t want to see what I looked like. I imagined it wasn’t a pretty picture.
“Did you get them?” I asked.
He smiled brightly and stood tall, above me, like a dog does when he brings a dead bird to your attention. “Got two of them. Some young punk. He's in the back. The old man, I've heard, holds some importance. I got him knocked out in the back of my car.” He laughed. “That other guy got away though. Skinny little bastard.”
“I got the money,” I said, trying to find the brighter side to this story.
“It ain’t about the money anymore. I want that fanook’s head on a plate and I want it served to his family.” He grinned. “You too fucked up to find the guy?”
“Never too fucked up for that. Besides, I think I know where he is.”
15
Lucas
“How do you know where he is?” Ricky asked me, driving my Cadillac like a maniac through town. I held my ribs, barely able to sit still from the pain. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pain pill. I was used to being bruised up and broken, but it helped to stay prepared.
I shrugged. “It's my job to know where everyone is at all times.”
“I'm serious. Where the hell am I going?” He sped around a corner, going about 100 miles an hour.
“Dahlia’s house. He's going to try and steal the girl,” I said. “Now turn left!” He slammed on the gas and spun the car to the left, in the direction of her house.