Page 16 of Merciless Attraction

While it’s been a long time since my voice has come up on a wiretap, I have no desire to be surprised again. The recent uproar between the mafia families of San Francisco doesn’t blind me to the fact they, and their known associates, may be under federal law enforcement surveillance.

‘Known associates’ is a loose term for my role in Bash’s life these days, but being good friends with Luca Devlin and Julian Blackwell, puts me high on the list of people the feds would want to watch.

Gemma’s foot rocks in the seat beside me as we drive through Oakland to snake our way up the cliffside to Ronan’s secluded house. There isn’t a view of the ocean or jagged beaches below because the hedges around the property are nearly ten feet tall.

Ronan’s pacing in circles by the time we pull to a stop in his circular driveway. He’s smoking and while it’s jarring to see, it lets me know just how fucked up this situation is. Ronan doesn’t smoke unless he’s down thousands of dollars at the poker table. He’s feeling like there’s no way out and I have to help him.

The moment we’re in earshot, Ronan rushes toward me, grabs me by the arm and pulls me around the side of the house. It’s not a large place, but it’s big enough for Ronan. The privacy from surrounding properties with the tall hedges gives us enough cover, but we still have to be careful.

Ronan leads us to a small shed beside his back door where it’s clear someone’s been bleeding on the doorstep. I have no idea what he’s done so far to solve his problem, but we soon find out when he opens the door to his shed.

Frankie is still in the clothes with dried blood stains from the night before from when I broke his nose. He has fresh pools of blood from a shot through his stomach and one through his leg.

“What’s the plan?” Gemma questions from behind us. I wasn’t thinking of shielding her from the sight of a dead body because I know her family. She’s a Marzano, and her question proves as much. But, I’m supposed to be keeping her safe and dealing with the dead body of the guy who put us in this predicament, feels like a failure on my part.

“How did he get here?” I ask Ronan.

Ronan takes another pull of his vape pen, runs his fingers through his ginger-red hair and swipes across his phone’s screen.

“I put his car in the garage until we figure out what we’re doing with him,” Ronan huffs out between pulls.

Gemma barks out instructions, a surprise to both me and Ronan. “I need toothpaste, a bucket, scrub brush, peroxide, bleach, and that dish detergent that cleans oils off of baby ducks.”

Ronan and I swap glances of confusion but immediately let her take the reins. The way she takes charge strengthens my attraction, but now’s not the time for me to fawn over Gemma.

“I probably have everything you need, but while you two work on that, I’m going to dump his car somewhere,” Ronan says, taking steps closer to his garage.

“Ronan, you’d better come back.” I tell him, even though I know better. He doesn’t do well in highly stressful situations. He’s the type to wait out the storm in a basement under a blanket. All of that is fine when you don’t agree to treat the wounds of mafia associates. Fear isn’t helpful in our professional lives or this one.

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” he asks with a shrug of his shoulders and his voice pitching too high for my liking.

“Because you think people are trying to kill you. I remember the last time this happened. It took me three weeks to find you.” I shake my head, hoping Ronan doesn’t turn tail and run away now I’m here to clean up the mess.

Ronan takes a quick drag of his vape pen. “But you found me, and I’m just a doctor, Antonio. I’m not like you. I’m not cut from a different cloth. I’m cut from a cloth of self-preservation that keeps my neck away from the guillotine. I’m going to park his car at an airport or somewhere with long term parking.”

It makes sense for us to handle the car and the body separately. Who knows how much time we have before someone starts looking for Frankie? Once Ronan brings out the supplies Gemma requested along with a box of disposable latex gloves, he heads to the garage to leave us alone with a dead body.

“I’m going to work on the blood stains.” Gemma says as she starts pouring portions of her requested ingredients into the bucket. She turns to me as she snaps on a pair of gloves. “You should work on the body.”

I can’t stop the smirk from slowly spreading on my face. “What would you have me do with the body?”

The way Gemma’s nose scrunches is cute as she plots how to get rid of evidence. She pauses for a moment and says, “Aren’t there sharks just off the coast? Let’s strip his clothes. We can burn his fingertips off, so it’ll take a while to identify his body, if it’s even found. You’ve already disfigured his face.”

“You sound like this isn’t your first time.”

The subtle flash of innocence lost in her eyes disappears as soon as she sees me looking at her, studying her. I want to know the story behind those soft gray eyes that have clearly seen too much. It reminds me of her earlier confession; the one I didn’t want to hear. She squares her shoulders and shifts her gaze to the blood stains on the concrete doorstep.

Gemma kneels, talking through her process as if I’m back in my residency observing an operation.

“The mint scent from the toothpaste obscures the scent of bleach. The toothpaste also treats any surface like enamel. If it’s porous, it seeps into the stain and starts to break it down. Peroxide and dish soap are a woman’s best friend when it comes to her period. Everyone doesn’t have to be a murderer to know how to clean up blood, Antonio.”

She scrubs the stain until the suds run pink. I kneel beside her, putting my hand on top of hers to stop her erratic movements.

“You’re right. You don’t have to be a murderer to know how to clean up blood. But you’d have to understand that getting rid of the blood before the body—”

She cuts me off with a hint of a smirk. “Getting rid of that body will be a lot easier than getting rid of the concrete attached to the foundation of this house.”

Chapter 7: Gemma

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