Page 54 of Married to the Mafia

The man still standing with Brandi guided her to move back, putting himself mostly between the movement and her. It was distasteful, but she refrained from complaining. Cristiano’s car was at her back and she could see just enough to see Cristiano himself pull open the driver’s door of the other vehicle. On the passenger side, another man she didn’t recognize had come up and trained their weapon on Gustavo, too. An obvious deterrent to keep their target from trying anything violent when Cristiano had to move his gun.

Still, the action Gustavo chose surprised Brandi.

Another gunshot rang out, glass shattered, and her impromptu bodyguard jerked back with a low grunt. Three more shots followed before Cristiano shouted for someone to stop and everything went terrifyingly silent.

Flashes of the confrontation at the gate, with Ralph George and Mikey’s security team exchanging gunfire and one man effectively losing his arm right before her eyes, flooded Brandi’s mind. She struggled to breathe for a precious second. Her hand reached up as if to catch the man in front of her. He’d definitely been shot. Because of her. Again.

“Ryoma, you good?” Cristiano asked.

The man in front of her grunted again. “Yeah. Just hurts like a bitch.”

The breath rushed from her. “Didn’t he shoot you?”

He turned and offered her a grin that wasn’t nearly as strained as it should have been. “Bulletproof vest.”

Brandi slumped against Cristiano’s car, feeling equal parts stupid and relieved.

“Let’s go,” Cristiano said, already striding up. “The idiots who went ahead have finally circled back, they can wait for the tow. We’ll have Mikey’s guys pull whatever we can get off the car’s computer.”

Brandi straightened.

Ryoma nodded. “Is the asshole dead or did we manage to hit non-criticals?”

Cristiano cut another glance toward the car. “He’s not dead yet. Not sure he’ll make it to holding, but it’s worth a try.” He clapped a hand on Ryoma’s shoulder. “Ganbatte.”

“Speaking Japanese to me will not make me any more successful at keeping the jackass who tried to shoot you alive. Quit trying.” Ryoma started toward the car and the pair of men who were working on extracting Gustavo from it.

Cristiano faced Brandi after only a moment. “I’m sure you’re in pain,” he said, “let’s get you home.” He pulled open the passenger door for her and ushered her inside. “They’ll handle the rest here, don’t worry.”

Brandi obligingly ducked into the car, wincing as she reached for the seatbelt. She managed to buckle herself in as Cristiano dropped into the driver’s seat beside her and slipped them out from between the returned SUV and Gustavo’s car. Her mind raced as her gaze drifted toward the scene they were leaving behind. She spied a trail of blood connecting Gustavo’s prone figure to the emptied car, though she couldn’t clearly see the man himself through the figures crouching around him.

“Do you need a doctor?” Cristiano asked once the scene was properly behind them.

She shifted her attention forward in time to see another black SUV approaching from the opposite lane. It looked like Cristiano flashed his lights at them once as they passed. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m a little sore, but nothing I can’t sleep off.” Behind them, the SUV flipped a sharp U-turn and fell in at their rear. “Um, is that a problem?”

“No. They’re with us. Ryoma’s got that scene under control. If the Ink Blots send anyone else out this way, I would need backup to keep you safe.”

Brandi felt her throat constrict for a moment. “They were … trying to scare me into working with them.” She wasn’t even sure she should be admitting that, but she’d committed to this new life. The least she could do was be honest. She hoped.

Cristiano muttered a curse. “They wanted to use you to spy on us?”

“It sounded more like they were hoping I could help them work against you.” The conversation she’d overheard replayed, again, through her head. “The Coughlan guy called me an ‘acquisition.’”

Cristiano growled another curse, and instead of replying, he punched a couple of buttons on his dashboard. The call was already ringing through the car’s speakers by the time Brandi looked over to see the name she most yearned for on the display.

“This better be good fucking news,” Mikey said in greeting.

Another layer of relief ripped through her and Brandi’s breath faltered. “I don’t suppose that escort offer’s … still on the table?”

“Brandi?” Mikey blew out a breath that sounded like another curse. “Are you hurt? Where are you?”

“I’m bringing her home,” Cristiano said. “She said she doesn’t need a doctor. What the hell happened to that signal I was chasing? It wasn’t with her. And the guy Miguel recognized was not the one we just shot up.”

“How can we get information out of people when you shoot them, Cris?” Mikey returned.

“He took a shot at your woman. We didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m fine,” Brandi said quickly. “Ryoma took the hit for me. Which I feel horrible about.”

---