Page 17 of Consumed By the Mafia

He could hear the sirens now.

Abby straightened and planted her feet before they could get too deep into the alley. “Ryoma, stop hiding shit from me. We just nearly died and I had to kill a man. You say I’m being targeted because I was seen talking to you in public. What the hell’s going on?”

Ryoma frowned. “Baby girl, I want to tell you. But not here, okay? Those sirens don’t mean anything good for us. Can you trust me a little longer?”

She pursed her lips but didn’t release his hand. “It’s not that I don’t,” she said. “I just … I don’t like being in the dark. Ihatebeing left out of things that involve me.”

He stepped closer and kissed the top of her head. His voice was low when he spoke. “You’ve figured out that Silva’s dirty. The other guy, Brendan Coughlan, he’s the head of what used to be a big Irish mob. There’s a story there that isn’t my place to tell, but it seems like the bastard’s basically living for misguided revenge. He’s the real power behind the gang that calls themselves the Ink Blots, you’ve probably heard the name. And all of those groups are looking for us right now, so we have to get off the streets, okay?”

Abby’s mouth had fallen open while he talked, her eyes getting bigger until he finally finished. “That’s—Are you … shitting me?”

“Wish I was, baby girl.” He gave a gentle tug on her hand. “Let me make a call?”

She licked her lips, her gaze promptly dropping to their hands. “How did you get tangled up in all that mess?” Her question was quiet. Hesitant.

Ryoma frowned, looking up to check behind them again. The sirens were louder, definitely headed their way, but they seemed to still be in the clear for the moment. “Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” he said. “But this isn’t the place for any of those stories, Abby. I know you want to know, and I’ll tell you everything I can. I promise.” He tipped her chin up, guiding her eyes back up to his. “Maybe then you’ll tell me a little about you?”

Her mouth opened. Closed. She swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

This time she let him pull her further into the alley, properly out of sight of casual passerby. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. On foot and injured as they were, they’d never escape a chase from either likely group of pursuers who rolled in next.

Ryoma kept her up against his side and put the burner to his ear. It wasn’t his usual phone, so he wasn’t surprised that Cris answered with a more guarded tone.

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve got a problem,” Ryoma said. “More than one, actually.”

“Ryoma? What’s going on?”

“Abby made a surprising new enemy today, my car’s toast, now we’re stuck on foot running from the cops who forgot we fucking own them, and the goddamn Irish mob’s back in town. That’s what.” He drew a breath. “She got us a pictureof the fucker, though. I did get that to Mikey before my phone bit the dust.”

Cristiano was silent for a second. “This is worse than we thought.”

“You’re fuckin’ telling me. I could use a ride, and some backup. None of which will be here before Silva’s boys.” Saying it out loud made it a little too real for Ryoma’s liking. It’d been a damn long time since he’d been in a situation this sticky.

Cris’s voice was tight and firm when he spoke again. “Tell me your direction and keep moving as best you can. We’ll find you. Just stay the fuck alive, brother.”

Ryoma exhaled harshly and gave him an approximation of where they were, and which way he hoped they’d go. “There’s no use calling in a team, I just saw the first flashing lights cut by. This one’s gonna be a headache.”

“Then it’s a good thing this one was defendable. Now get out of there.”

Ryoma disconnected and shoved the phone into a pocket. Cris was right, they needed to keep moving, even if it hurt. He curled his fingers over Abby’s hip, absently wondering if they’d ever get the chance to do normal couple things—and why he suddenly wanted to. “Come on, baby girl, we can’t linger here.”

She flattened her palm on his chest, leaning into him with her head bowed and her shoulders shaking. “All my life,” she whispered, “I only ever wanted to see the right thing being done. To be part of making that happen.”

Ryoma frowned. “What’reyou talking about?”

Abby sucked in a breath and her fingers dug into his shirt, her short nails scraping his chest through the fabric. She lifted her head just enough to reveal tears brimming her beautiful eyes.

They really needed to be moving, but whatever she’d decided to say, it was obviously important. Ryoma couldn’t bring himself to shut that down. He wouldn’t.

six

Off the Rails pt II

Everything was spiraling outof control. Abigail was supposed to be rooting out the source of organized crime in New Jersey, not getting caught in one giant clusterfuck of a blood feud. She was supposed to be making the city—the state—a safer place, not contributing to the violence by shooting a man dead in the middle of the day. Granted, that man and his cohort had genuinely been trying to kill both her and the man behind the wheel of the vehicle she was in. Most people would call it self-defense and pat themselves on the back.

She’d never killed anyone, though. Knowing she could shoot and watching her target drop were two very differentthings.

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