Page 47 of O'Mega's Revenge
One of his men came out holding a box.
“We checked it. No bomb or shit.” They handed it to Nonno.
He pulled the envelope off the top and checked the words written on it. “Fuck.” He opened the box and peeked inside.
It was one of those fancy store boxes. Foiled outside, velvet ribboned, and huge.
The lid got tossed into the dirt. He tugged the fabric inside and shook it until the contents spilled out.
Tits sucked in a breath.
The dress inside was blue silk. The kind that gets named.
Nonno checked the label. “Fucking Dior.” He tossed it at Tits, who caught it.
The matching blue underwear were in the dirt. I picked them up and tossed them into a fire can next to the door. “You ain’t wearing those.”
Her lips thinned into a line. I leaned into her face.
“You ain’t.”
“It would make raping me easier without them.”
I roared and kicked the ash can into the yard. My hand cocked back to hit something, but Tits dropped the dress and grabbed me before I did something stupid like break my hand on the wooden post that held our porch up.
“I didn’t mean it, baby. I didn’t. Please, Wolf. I didn’t mean it. Don’t hurt yourself, please?”
Instead of raging, I grabbed her and held her close. Probably too tightly, but she didn’t complain. She wrapped her legs around my waist and dug her fingers into my neck. Her lips kept whispering into my ear as she peppered my jaw with kisses.
“Get her inside.”
Nonno was right. Even if there wasn’t a good sight line from anything nearby, we were vulnerable in other ways out here. I kicked the dress away from my feet and carried Meghan into the club house. I wasn’t going to put her down or let her go. Any man who tried to separate us would die. I know I wasn’t thinking right but hearing her be so matter-of-fact about what she faced broke something in me.
Nothing would make me accept that fate for her. We’d been through too much, spent too many nights fighting those demons. She was strong, but maybe I wasn’t.
That was a weakness I hadn’t expected, and I needed her skin on mine to be reassured the worst wasn’t going to happen, yet.
Jackson motioned for me to take a seat next to him. Trot was at the table, and Nonno filled out the final seat. Meghan tried to shift off me, but I pulled her back onto my lap and growled into her ear to be still. She settled in, fitting into me perfectly. Two pieces, finally whole.
Nonno put the note onto the table. It was one of those fancy invitations. A handwritten note accompanied it.
Trot pulled it to her and read it, then translated it for the rest of the table.
“Looks like Tits has an engraved invitation to a party. Nonno, too.”
“He wants to make the hand off tonight. There’s a fancy fundraiser in Philly. She’s supposed to be my escort.” He made a face.
“What’s his game? This is a public place.” Trot tapped her finger on the text. She motioned to Fell to look up the information.
“Got a hit on the party. It looks legit. A fundraiser for the children’s hospital.” She whistled. “A senator and the mayor are expected to attend. That’s one hell of a guest list.”
“Probably a few representatives from the family will be there.” Nonno motioned to one of his men. “Call Angelo. See who we’re dealing with.”
“Again, what’s his game? He attacks our businesses, shoots at your people. Why this?”
“He’s showing power,” Tits answered Trot’s question but kept her eyes on Nonno.
He squirmed under her scrutiny.
