Page 9 of Their Princess

RAFE

The Arizona desertlooked too much like Afghanistan, Iraq, Saudi—any desert armpit I’d been on assignment in—this looked almost exactly the same. I narrowed my eyes at the horizon. This body shop seemed isolated here in the canyon, but the ghost of a tiny town could be seen in the distance.

We weren’t safe here, because it lacked the high ground that would give us a good vantage point. I was wrong to believe we would be safe. MCs weren’t safe, but neither was the Mafia, and here we were, setting up a deal that would use the MC to facilitate the arms trade between the Mafia and the cartel in northern Mexico.

It didn’t matter. I was here to protect Adelina. After I’d turned down several jobs Massimo had offered, this one seemed a better fit. Plus, I’d get to ride on the open road—the only love I might experience in this life. Furthermore, I wouldn’t have to deal with all the politics between the Don and capos.

On this assignment, I could focus on my niece and her safety.

Adelina had been innocent while living at the center of one of the largest crime families in the States. Something my older brother now controlled. But I could thank him for sheltering hisgirls, keeping them away from the ugliness of the business while giving them a very comfortable life. Too bad he couldn’t do the same for me.

The problem had arisen when my brother’s ambitions outgrew his station in la Famiglia. With that, Adelina became a pawn. Guess I was too, because Massimo handed me over to the MC without batting an eye. I was a good soldier though, or even a good pawn.

I would keep an eye on Adelina and answer when my brother gave orders.

I tightened my hand on my gun, watching for signs of danger. Adelina moved closer to me, her hot breath dragging across my neck. I wanted to hold her until she was no longer trembling, but any comfort I would offer wasn’t my rightful place.

Protection. Safety. Those were mine.

She might be putting on a strong front, but when I looked, I could see the signs of anger and distress—her pouty bottom lip, the way she clenched and released her fists at her sides, and how she tapped her toes when she thought no one was watching.

The big guy—her soon-to-be husband—released her, basically throwing Adelina toward her father, and stalked over to stand beside Wilde. The Prez and VP argued quietly, their voices barely buzzing like bees at work.

I was now a patched member in this MC, so I had every right to insert myself into their argument. But I had my duty.

To Adelina, who now stood barefoot and bloody beside my brother.

Massimo had his arm wound around Adelina’s shoulders, holding her like a good father might comfort his daughter. I hated him for that touch. For stealing it from me.

If he hurt her anymore, I might break every one of the fingers in the hand responsible.

I looked away, shame washing over me at the wrongness of my protective need for her.

Everything about this was wrong. We shouldn’t still be out in the open, especially after being attacked. This had gone sideways, and we never should’ve brought Adelina to the desert like this.

I blamed my brother. I thumbed the safety of my gun, considering who to shoot first: my brother, Adelina’s future husband, or myself.

The adrenaline spike during the fight was slowly washing away, and I missed how it deadened my falling sensation. Without the buzz of a fight coursing through my veins, I started to spiral.

The world twisted around me. The gunshots still rang in my ears, mixing with the blood rushing past my eardrums and the red haze over my vision. The visions of the faces—all the lives I’d stolen—lurked at the edges of my mind. It all left me clenching my jaw.

I had been in combat, in the thick of bullets raining down from unknown vantage points desert war zones. All of this felt too familiar.

Too carelessly cruel.

Too blindly violent.

Instead of my Marine brothers, I had a ragtag MC. A renegade band of brothers with no military skills. They had a saying in the Marines about allies and enemies: “No better friend, no worse enemy, than a U.S. Marine.”

Right now, I didn’t trust these outlaws enough to call them brothers. No goddamn Semper Fi in this hell hole.

A few capos gathered around my brother, getting their asses chewed while Adelina still huddled at Massimo’s side, and I wanted to pull her away and tuck her inside. Away from the chaos.

The voices layered on top of one another, an onslaught of arguing that would tear apart this delicate agreement between a Mafia Don and an MC Prez. I pressed my palms to either side of my head to try to dull the noise and focus.

After every present voice, I could hear Adelina’s Nonna in all her disdain for me, taking out her frustration for her husband’s infidelity on me. “Figlio di puttana.”

“NO!” I gritted out.

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