Page 7 of Forbidden Pregnancy (The Buffalo Italian Mob Family #2)

Chapter Four

Michael

“ Y ou little brat, I–

I freeze. After a full fucking hour scouring the streets of Buffalo for CC, I find her at Belladonna’s, where she’s in danger from any number of our current enemies, and she’s not alone. She’s with Myra. How dare this woman show her face on my turf? My anger immediately fades to embarrassment.

I look terrible, especially since I lost an eye. Judging by the way she’s staring at me right now, she has no clue I lost the eye and clearly, she finds me utterly hideous for it. Momentarily, I drop my confrontation with my younger sister.

“Myra Brent. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I try to remain calm and centered, but internally a hurricane brews inside me. How can she just sit there like nothing happened between us and stare at me like I’m some sort of gargoyle instead of…

It was so long ago. She probably feels nothing now. She’s probably married.

“Hello Michael,” she responds stiffly in a voice sexy enough to get my dick hard even if I want to remain steady and calm in front of the woman who left me in such a calloused manner all those years ago. “I ran into CC here and we were just catching up.”

“Perfect. Wonderful. CC, you need to come home. Now.”

“I’m twenty-three, turning twenty-four. I don’t have to do anything.”

“I have been more than generous with you. Do you know what the fuck dad would do to me if something happened to you?”

“You’re boring, Michael. All you do is go to the gym and jack off alone in your room.”

“Listen, you petulant little brat. I do not touch myself. At all.” I glance nervously at Myra and then back at my sister, who clearly wants to push my buttons so I lose my temper in front of Myra.

I don’t think she knows our history. I kept the truth from my younger sister to protect her from… this.

The fact that I’ve never managed to keep a woman in my life. The last one I really loved sits right here in front of me and there’s not a hint of emotion on her face. Does she even remember who I am, or does she only know because Cosima reminded her that she has a loathsome older brother…

”I’m not going home with you,” CC insists. She’s one step above stomping her foot in this stupid fucking tantrum. I glare at Myra, halfway blaming her sudden appearance on CC’s behavior as her very presence transports me to some of the most frustrating times in my life.

Dad always made me responsible for CC so she wouldn’t end up like my sister Ruby, so she could be spared her twin sister’s fate, and so ultimately, she could have more freedom in the long run.

CC doesn’t see it, but my guiding hand has kept her safely protected from an unhappy marriage to a much older Italian brute.

What CC views as my “overprotective” nature has given her the freedom to dress like… that. Some type of emo goth wearing the dirty-looking clothing trending amongst her peers.

“Yes,” I growl. “You are…”

Myra interrupts. “I’d better head out.”

“NO!” CC says. “You are not heading out.”

My sister’s hands shoot out in either direction.

One hand holds onto my forearm and the other holds onto Myra.

CC is the only connection we still have thanks to the way Myra disappeared from my life.

Even the way she looks at me now fills me with outrage.

There’s no emotion behind her eyes. No desire.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” I growl at CC. “If you’re not out there in ten minutes, I’ll call Peter and we’re going to drag you out of here with our hands around your neck so you can never show your face again.”

Myra’s face contorts with disgust and I derive sick pleasure from provoking some reaction out of her, even if it’s negative. I want her to pay attention to me. I crave her attention. But right now… I need to get some fresh air and take my sister home. I can’t indulge in my ghosts.

She doesn’t even care. My eyes flicker towards Myra again as I feel some strange temptation to say…

everything I wanted to say to get her back.

It’s too late. Twelve years is enough time for chemistry to fade.

The emotions we had for each other are nothing more than memories now, and nothing worth dredging up.

I have even more going on now than I did then. I’m not the handsome, foul-mouthed scamp I used to be. Life hardened me the way I knew it would back then. Maybe that’s why I let Myra go in the end — I knew I would become a monster. I couldn’t risk turning her into one too.

Despite my frustration and anger with her, I can’t help my feelings.

“You look incredible, Myra. After twelve years, you haven’t aged a day.”

It’s not much, but it’s the closest I can muster to expressing my feelings for her. I bend my head and turn my back on them, walking into the fresh air to wait for my runaway sister. I hope she comes back with the slightest touch of humility…

This sucks. I lean against my truck, fighting the temptation to have another smoke.

I know those things will kill me, but there’s nothing as easy to access in this country for stress reduction that doesn’t turn you into a dysfunctional drooling mess.

I stick a cigarette in my mouth and before I know it, CC runs through her ten minutes and I don’t realize how late she is until my hands are cold and I burn through to the cigarette butt.

After crushing the orange butt beneath my feet, I glance at my phone to see if CC messaged me. Also, I clearly need to call Peter.

I send my younger brother a text.

Belladonna’s. CC loose.

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time it’s come to this with my sister.

She doesn’t get it. Ever since Uncle Carmine died, dad has been entirely on edge, questioning everyone in his life, including his long-time best friend Leandro Taviani and more worthy of his distrust, Carmine’s right-hand man down in Pittsburgh, Maury Gravina.

Any of us could become potential targets for kidnapping or a bombing like the one at 9th circle a few months ago. Dad bought the club with Nicky C. and they’re reopening it in a few weeks with a new name: Velvet.

Until we have a new truce and answers about the political situation down in Pittsburgh, dad wants everyone close. When you don’t know who to trust, your best option ends up being the simplest one — trust no one.

Peter won’t bother sending a reply, he’ll just show up, so I know I won’t have long to wait. I’d better get in there after CC…

Just when I hit the doorway, CC slams into me.

“Michael!” She gasps, like she’s somehow surprised to see me.

“I’ve been waiting.”

“I know,” she says. “We should take my car.”

“My car is out front.”

“You must have called Peter by now,” she says. “Have him take it.”

“Why do we have to take your car?”

“Because,” she hisses, leaning in and whispering towards me. “We have to sneak out the back. Trust me.”

CC reaches down and grips my arm with an emotion that can only be pure, unadulterated terror. What the hell is wrong with her? And where’s Myra?

“Where’s Myra?”

“You’re worried about my tutor from twelve years ago right now? Our lives are on the line, Michael. Follow me. ”

CC isn’t stupid enough to be playing a game with me, but I can’t imagine any threat at Belladonna’s that would remain undetected by every branch of our mob family.

Belladonna’s has been one of our safest places to congregate for almost a decade.

Despite our current circumstances, it’s at least the safest place in the city because of the family connections here.

What type of beast would feel comfortable hunting on our turf?

I let CC drag me through the bar to the back exit, even if I don’t see anyone or anything that might be threatening to us.

I don’t even see Myra, just an empty glass on the bar stained with her lipstick.

I want to ask CC where she went since I didn’t see her leave out the front either, but if I stop moving even for a second, I’m convinced that CC will disappear.

When we exit through the back door, her parking job nearly gives me a panic attack on the spot.

“Are you trying to get the cops down here to tow another Mercedes?”

“I’m tired of being cooped up,” Cosima says with her typical remorseless and challenging stare. I’m tired of fighting with her, especially when everything I do is to protect her from the darkest parts of our family.

“That doesn’t justify running off and putting us both in danger. If someone from Pittsburgh got to you…”

“What? You would have one less problem to worry about?”

She’s testing me.

“You know I care about you.”

“Michael…” her face softens. I’m finally getting through to her. I text Peter asking him to bring Gino with him to drive my car to the apartment. I’ll take CC out to my ‘sports den’ near the lake to make sure she doesn’t run away again instead of letting my emotions get the better of me.

If she needs a change of scenery to stop this madness, maybe I can give in to her bratty ways without caving completely. She’s not a little girl anymore. And I’m lucky she doesn’t end up like Angela Taviani or Mallory Corsini or any of the other Italian women used as pawns in our games.

“Yes?” I offer calmly, expecting an apology.

“Will you quickly look at something on my phone before we leave?”

“Huh?”

“It’s for Myra. Before she left… she told me about something awful that happened to her and… I just want to know if there’s anything you can do about it.”

“We really don’t have time for this.”

“Here,” CC says, reaching into the deep pockets of her wide-legged pants for a flask that has my initials engraved on it.

The twins both love stealing. They made a game out of stealing from nonna until dad caught them and turned their asses purple.

They got even better after that, though they stole a lot less frequently.

“You touch my shit again, I’ll spank you like when you were a kid.”

“Don’t be gross. Trust me, you’ll need a drink before looking at this.”

“What happened to Myra and why do you think I would care in the slightest?”

I tilt the flask into my throat, never suspecting for a second that there was anything amiss with it. CC had it in her pocket, right? So she must have had a few sips.

“You don’t care about anyone except yourself,” she says. “I’m completely aware of that.”

Good.

“Are you going to answer my question?” I ask her, finishing off whatever delicious cocktail CC thinks she’s going to be sneaking from the passenger seat.

“No,” she says. “And you don’t care about Myra because you’re an idiot.”

“I don’t care about her because she’s self-centered. I don’t fall for that prissy good girl bullshit for a second. You don’t know her.”

CC’s tone drips with haughty judgment. “You have a lot of nerve calling someone self-centered.”

“Assume for once in your life that someone else knows more than you do.”

“Humility isn’t exactly a Corsini trait.”

“No,” I grumble. “It isn’t. Now give me that stupid phone so we can leave.”

Why isn’t she in a hurry anymore? I don’t answer my question and I don’t remember anything past the next sixty seconds. My hands clamp around the phone. I glance at my sister. Then everything fades and a black hole engulfs me and strips me out of time for several hours.

When I wake up, I have no memories and no awareness. Everything is just black – both inside and outside of my head. I don’t even know where I am…