Page 56 of Mafia Star

“Mmm-mmm. I’m taking you out for breakfast. If we don’t leave here for a while, I’m going to keep you in here all day. Neither of us will get a damned thing done but each other.”

“And the problem with that would be?”

“I heard your call yesterday. You have designs due today. I won’t get you in trouble at work.”

She exaggerates her sigh of resignation.

“Fine. I suppose going out to breakfast is nice. But only if I get some afternoon delight back here.”

“That you can count on.” I waggle my eyebrows. “What are you in the mood for?”

Chapter Twelve

Beth

I’m ashamed of how I acted this morning. Maybe it was sub drop— the crash that sometimes happens after the euphoria ends and the endorphins decrease. It’s why there’s such a thing as aftercare in the BDSM world. But I usually don’t experience it, and there was no reason to think I would have since it was pretty tame sex compared to what it could have been— what I hope it will become with Marco. Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe the focus on sex wouldn’t be such a bad thing right now. It would take us back to what we originally envisioned this being between us. What the fuck do I know?

I still feel like a fickle bitch. One moment I’m telling myself that meeting Marco and being with him is the best thing since— forever. Then I’m ready to run naked from his apartment. PMS? I don’t want him to fear I’m going to bail on him when things are hard. I don’t want him to think I’m going to shut down on him. Time. I think that’s what we both need.

We’re headed to a little bistro that apparently has an amazing breakfast menu. It’s a few blocks away, so we’re walking. The guys guarding me today are a bit more spread out, letting Marco and me have some privacy. Marco’s walking on the curb side as we hold hands. There’s a guy about ten feet ahead of us and one about that far behind us. The one on my right is making it hard for anyone to pass between us, but he’s leaving about a four- or five-feet gap when he can.

When we get to the restaurant, the lead guard— Pauly —goes in ahead of us. He comes out with an expression I can’t read. I can’t understand what he says either.

“C'è qualcosa di strano lì dentro.” There’s something off in there.

We’re standing in the doorway when I hear a scuffle. Marco and I look to our right, and one guy from the subway is fighting with Vinny, the guard who trailed us. Immediately, Pauly and Marco close in, putting me between them. I look to my left, and I don’t see the guard we had in front of us.

“Where’s Tony?”

Marco turns his head at my question. His arm goes around my waist and pulls me flush to his body as he twists to look around. I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s obvious Pauly knows his job is to protect me ahead of anything else since he isn’t going to help Vinny. Pauly. Vinny. Tony. With names like those, I was feeling pretty fucking immortal when we left Marco’s place. Now? Not so much.

I glance back to my right, and I notice the man from the subway is out cold on the sidewalk. Vinny’s rushing toward us, pushing through the crowd that formed to watch the unexpected show— two muscle-bound men wailing on each other.

“Over there, Marco. That’s the guy who bumped into me in the street.”

I point to where we expected to see Tony. How the hell did these men know where we were going? I get the subway guy might have been following us. But how is the other one always ahead of me?

“We gotta get Beth inside. Straight to the restroom, Pauly.”

“I know.”

He knows? Is this their crisis strategy? Get the woman into a space with few people and probably no windows and only one door?

Pauly turns on his heel and yanks the door open. Marco still hasn’t taken his arm off me. He propels me forward so fast I almost lose my footing. It’s a good thing he’s holding me. Maybe that’s why. It’s crowded, so Pauly has to push his way through with a few “excuses me’s” and some shoulder bumps.

“Check it.”

We’re almost to the hallway with the sign for the restrooms. Pauly hurries forward and knocks on the women’s door. Nothing. I expect him to go in, but he rushes to the men’s door and knocks there too. He inches it open as he draws a knife from his pocket. That makes me look down, and I realize Marco has a knife in his left hand. It’s a switchblade— I think that’s what they’re called —and it’s open.

“It’s less noticeable than if I pull my gun. Neither of us will until we need to. They’ll expect us to take you to the ladies' room.”

All four men were in suits as I’ve come to notice is the norm. After finding the gun holstered at Marco’s lower back, I get that means the other men are carrying too. I don’t want to know if they’re licensed. I don’t want to know if they have permits. I just want to know they’re there, and these four men will use them to protect Marco— and me. Mostly Marco. Whoever this is might hurt me, but I’m fucking certain they’d kill him.

Pauly nods, and Marco nudges me forward. We enter the restroom, and it’s a single. Pauly flips the lock before they both back me into the far corner. They have their guns drawn now, and Pauly’s speaking rapid Italian into an earpiece. He’s looking at Marco and shaking his head. What the fuck does that mean?

“Beth, no matter what happens, you stay behind Pauly and me. If I tell you to get down, you curl into a ball and cover your head. Back to the wall, knees up, head down. Leave nothing exposed.”

Exposed? Like vital organs?

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