Chapter 37: Chapter 37

I feel a stinging sensation across my side as a bullet narrowly misses me before I fall and slide straight into Renzo.

“Christ,” he grunts. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I check the magazine in my gun, then I slam it back into place. “We should’ve brought machine guns,” I mutter as I move into a crouching position.

“You’re bleeding,” Renzo says, pulling the fabric of my shirt away from my side.

“So are you. One grazed me. How’s your arm?”

“The bullet didn’t go deep. I’ll live.”

“You better.”

“Where the fuck are you?” Damiano shouts over the gunfire.

“DJ’s booth,” Renzo yells.

The gunfire stops suddenly, and we hear our boss bark, “Get your asses out here.”

We dart up, and as we leave our cover, it’s to see Damiano and Carlo moving up the stairs with Angelo and Big Ricky behind them.

“You watch our backs while I keep an eye on the second floor,” I tell Renzo before we run to catch up to the others with Vincenzo and Fabrizio following after us.

Everything is eerily quiet as we take the stairs up, and when we reach the VIP area, Miguel’s sitting at a table with his men forming a half circle around him.

“Did you really have to go to all this trouble?” Miguel asks as he stares at Damiano.

“Yes.”

Not giving a shit, Damiano pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the table. He gestures for Carlo to pour him a drink.

I move closer while I pull my other Heckler & Koch from behind my back. On guard, my eyes flick from one fucker to the next.

Damiano lets out a sigh. “All you had to do was listen, but no, you had to be stubborn and come into our territory.”

“There’s a lot of money to be made in New York. The deal still stands,” Miguel says, looking a little uneasy.

Carlo places a tumbler of whiskey in front of Damiano, who picks up the drink and takes a sip.

When he sets the tumbler down again, he murmurs, “As good as a thirty percent share sounds, I have to decline.”

My heartbeat speeds up again because I recognize the look on his face.

A second later, his arm flies up, and he takes the kill shot, hitting Miguel right between the eyes.

All hell breaks loose, and the rest of us open fire.

A bullet whistles past my head, and I have to drop my empty Heckler & Koch before tackling Damiano off the chair when a fucker has a clear shot of him.

There’s another sting across my back before we plow into the floor, with Damiano cushioning my fall.

My arm swings through the air as I spin around, ready for action, but the last man goes down from Big Ricky’s bullet.

Slumping back on the carpet, I stare up at the ceiling as I suck in desperate breaths. “Christ.”

Still lying beside me, Damiano lifts his hand and holds his thumb and pointer finger an inch apart. “You came this close to kneeing me in the balls, fucker.”

I let out a burst of laughter. “I’m pretty sure I took a bullet for you.”

“What?” He sits up and starts checking me for wounds.

“Flesh wound on my back.”

He shoves at me before climbing to his feet. “That’s not taking a fucking bullet.” He glances around the area then asks, “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, just need to visit the clinic,” Vincenzo mutters. “I took a bullet in the leg.”

Fabrizio moves closer to his friend to help him down the stairs.

“Let’s go,” Damiano orders.

“Someone going to give me a hand?” I ask.

My boss pauses, then grabs hold of my hand and hauls me to my feet.

I glance at Miguel’s body but know his death won’t stop the drugs from coming into New York. It’s a war we’ll fight until our dying day.

As soon as we land, I head home to swap the R8 for my SUV before driving toward Brownsville with the bag of cocaine in my pocket.

I’m fucking tired and just want to get into bed with my woman, but first, I have to take care of her mother.

I dial Frankie’s number when I reach the neighborhood.

“I’m starting to feel special,” he answers.

I let out a chuckle, then ask, “Do you know where Eden’s mother hangs out?”

“A bar up the road from the apartment building Eden stayed in.”

I need to check whether Eden and Tyrone have given up their leases for the apartments.

“Meet me at the bar.”

I end the call and drive to the apartment. Passing by Eden’s old building, I see a group of homeless people gathering around a fire they’ve made in a trashcan.

When I reach a bar, I park the SUV and get out, glancing around for Frankie’s sedan.

I don’t have to wait long until he comes driving up the road, and as soon as the car stops, he climbs out of the passenger seat.

“What’s up?”

“Find Mandy. I need to talk to her.”

“Let me check inside.”

I watch as he jogs across the road and goes into the bar. Not even a minute later, he hauls a woman out onto the sidewalk, and gripping her arm tightly, he drags her to where I’m standing.

“Thanks, Frankie. You can go,” I say as my eyes drift over her.

She looks like she’s in her sixties, skinny as fuck, and drunk.

Giving me a smile, she slurs, “Ten bucks for a blow.”

I suck in a deep breath before exhaling it slowly, and wanting to give her a chance to save herself, I say, “I’m here to give you a choice. Come with me, and I’ll take you to rehab right now. Once you’re clean, I’ll help you get a job so you can get off the streets.”

She lets out a bitter chuckle. “Nah, man, that sounds like too much work. You want a blowie or not?”

Taking the bag of cocaine out of my pocket, I hold it out to her. “Or you can take this.”

“What’s the catch?” she asks, her eyes latching onto the bag as if it’s the holy grail.

“No catch. I just want to give you something for the holidays.”

“Thanks.” Taking the bag, she doesn’t even check for traffic before she crosses the road and disappears down an alley.

Freezing my ass off, I climb back into the SUV to wait for thirty minutes because I need to make sure Mandy won’t be a problem for Eden in the future.

My phone vibrates, and I check the message that just came through.

Eden: Just checking if you’re okay.

I quickly take off my gloves and type a response.

Dario: Almost done. I’ll be home in an hour.

Eden: Can’t wait. I have something exciting to share with you.

She probably wants to tell me she’s starting to work with Skylar in January.

Putting the gloves on again, the wounds on my arm and back sting, and I know Eden’s going to lose her shit when she sees I’ve been grazed by bullets.

I keep an eye on the time, and when thirty minutes is up, I get out of the SUV and walk to the alley, where I pass empty crates and boxes.

When I see a pair of feet sticking out behind a dumpster, my pace slows. Mandy comes into view, the open bag of cocaine clutched in her hand, her eyes frozen in death while the blood from her nose dries.

It could’ve been a very different story had she taken the other option.

Turning around, I walk back to the SUV so I can get my ass home to my woman with the full intention of not telling her about Mandy’s death. I feel it will be better if Eden learns about it by herself, and if she never finds out, then that’s good with me, too.

I climb back into my vehicle, and starting the engine, I drive home while thinking about how my life’s changed since I met Eden.

She’s in every beat of my heart and every breath I take.