Page 30 of Wedlocked

I cleared my throat and glanced back at the brothers. “I-I think I might have seen you both at the wedding.”

“Yes, we were there,” Alessandro answered in a gravelly voice, his dark bristles matching his eyes. Then he added drily, “Someone had to ensure my brother and his wife weren’t shot to pieces on their wedding day.”

I shivered, hating the disapproving vibes he exuded. “Then I should thank all three of you. Our day went off without a hitch.”

“Don’t thank us,” Evander said with a wry grin. “It’s our job, one we take very seriously. Ethan might be our brother, but he’s our don now too. We’d protect him with our lives.”

I shivered. Of course they’d protect him, but what about me?

Ethan noted my shiver, and drew off his jacket before he placed it around the back of my shoulders. Then he winked at me and explained, “Of course, one of these three brothers will soon be my underboss, so they’re competitive as fuck when it comes to looking after my wellbeing.”

I smiled back weakly. “Well then, may the best man win.”

“That would be me,” Evander boasted.

“Only in your wet dreams,” Alessandro barked out with a laugh.

I noted that Serafino stayed quiet. A man of few words. I had no doubt he was the silent and deadly one. A man who’d slit his enemy’s throat before he’d drawn his next breath.

I resisted touching my throat and instead refocused on my husband, though weariness was already dragging at me. “Are you going to tell me where our honeymoon is?”

“And spoil the surprise? No, angel, you’ll just have to be patient.”

I lifted my chin, hating his control over me. “My brother will hunt you down if I was suddenly to disappear.”

One of his brothers snorted into a headset, but I was too wary of them to turn around. Any one of them could kill me with their bare hands if I pushed too hard and disrespected their don, their brother, too much.

Ethan scowled at me as though I was a crazy. Was he already regretting marrying me? Yet there was a quiet intensity about him that frightened me more than his words when he said, “Don’t ever threaten me, wife.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t doubt for a second that I’d already pushed him too hard, and up until now he’d humored me. Little wonder my brother’s wedding speech had been all about warning Ethan I was never going to be a pliable wife.

But then, my brother had always tried to protect me, to cushion the oftentimes physical and emotional blows from our father and our life in general.

I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift, until the whomp whomp of the helicopter blades soon merged into the same recurring dream I had all too often.

I laughed out loud as I sat behind my brother on his pride and joy Harley-Davidson, following our dad on his Harley as he rode with our mom sitting pillion behind him.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining from a cloudless blue sky, the warm air whipping loose some strands of my hair that I’d pulled back into a tight ponytail beneath my helmet. If I tried hard enough, I could almost believe we were alone out here on the open road with none of our soldiers, AKA bodyguards, in big black SUVs in front and behind us.

All too often I liked to imagine I lived an ordinary life, without violence and bloodshed, and without bodyguards and criminal associates making it impossible for me to have a normal life with normal friends—any friends! I loved even more being on the back of my brother’s bike, pretending in that moment we were free to do whatever we damn well liked.

Dad slowed his bike in front of us as a T-intersection came into sight ahead, while our mom turned in the seat behind him to look at us and give us a thumb’s up. Her long, loose blonde hair, which was the same color as mine and Salvatore’s, was almost as bright as her smile. She loved riding pillion as much as I did.

It really was our escape from the violence and fighting, and every other criminal activity that went on in our lives. Our dad always made time to take his wife out for a Sunday ride, where more often than not my brother and I would join them.

Salvatore slowed for the intersection ahead just as our parents pulled out, following the black SUV in front. My brother was about to pull out too and follow them, when a pickup with dark-tinted windows seemingly appeared from out of nowhere, flying along the road toward my parents.

Salvatore swore, his whole body tensing in front of me. Then the pickup smashed into the back of our dad’s Harley. A distant part of me looked on in horror as our parents were thrown from the bike and sailed through the air. My dad hit a shrub and slumped to the ground. My mother hit the asphalt and rolled until she lay unmoving, a broken doll.

The SUV in front stopped, the soldiers jumping out. Two hurried to our parents while the other two fired at the pickup that had hurtled past them.

I clung onto my brother’s jacket, my heartbeat thrashing in my ears and black spots dancing in my vision. I sucked in a breath that didn’t seem to fill my lungs, then darkness took me away from the horrific scene.

Chapter Eighteen

Ethan

I glanced at my wife once again, though to be honest, I’d hardly taken my eyes off her the whole fucking journey. That she’d fallen asleep and woken with a start, her eyes wild and her breathing erratic told me I wasn’t alone with demons from the past. No doubt she too had nightmares thanks to her violent upbringing.

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