Page 88 of Sweet Prison
“I hope you burn in hell, Spada.”
“Been there, done that.” I give my men a slight nod and head in the direction of the exit. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Efisio.”
A sound of pebbles and metal scraps cracking under the soles of our feet follows us as we head across the clearing. The sun is high and it shines on the debris surrounding us, making the stink even heavier. I fucking hate it.
As soon as we round the corner and enter a long alley between two rows of cars, I slip behind the nearest wreck and take out my gun. “Remember, Efisio is mine.”
“I doubt he’ll try anything,” Peppe says as he assumes a position across from me while the rest of my guys spread out nearby. “He gave his word.”
“He did. But that was before we released his niece.”
“Yes, but—” He doesn’t finish because all eight of Efisio’s men come into view, guns raised.
Gunfire explodes in the next moment.
The Camorra guys obviously didn’t expect to come up on us this quickly, so the first three drop dead even before they get the chance to aim their rifles. The rest scatter, taking cover among the rusted-out vehicles. I manage to hit one in the back before he dives behind a junker of a truck from the last century, but then have to dodge when bullets rain down on me. A piece of shrapnel gets blown off the fender of the car I’m using for cover and flies at my face, nicking my cheek.
My phone starts ringing inside my pocket. If it wasn’t for the notes of a classic melody I set as Zahara’s custom tone, I might not have been able to pick out the shrill among the gunfire. Typically, my phone is always on vibrate only—at least, ever since Nera’s eloquent “goodbye” nearly blew it up. The regular ringing was too reminiscent of the alert sound that bounced off the walls just before the cell doors were unlocked each morning, and I couldn’t stand hearing that goddamned screech. But for Zahara, I installed a special ringtone and activated the feature that allows her calls to always ring through, regardless of “silent” or “do not disturb” modes. I never want to miss her calls.
“Zahara.” Another bullet whizzes above me. I move to the other end of the car and glance over the hood. “All good there?”
“The designer just called. Apparently, stock is low for the tile I picked out last week, and it’ll be a while before they can get more in. So, he wants to know if you’d prefer the same ones in all bathrooms or if— Where are you?”
“Just wrapping up the meeting with Efisio.” Aiming at the Camorra goon crouched by an overturned pickup truck, I pull the trigger. “Actually, I was thinking white for the master en suite and, maybe, for the rest of the third floor.”
“Massimo? Is that… gunfire?”
“Of course not. Could you ask him to bring us a few new options to look at?”
A round of rapid shots erupts, and the side window to my left explodes, sending shards of glass every which way.
“You lunatic!” Zahara yells into the phone. “Don’t have a freaking chitchat on the phone while you’re being shot at!”
“Doubting my ability to multitask? You wound me, angel.”
“Jesus! Call me when you’re done!”
The line goes dead. I look at Peppe, who’s crouched less than four feet away, changing the magazine on his gun. He’s shaking his head.
“You think she’s pissed at me?”
“Yup.” He nods. “Y’know, I’ve never heard Miss Veronese yell before. With all the shit you’ve been through, she’s gotta figure you’re not that easy to kill. But still, she must be truly scared for your life right now. You gonna marry her?”
My head snaps toward him. “That’s not your fucking concern.”
“That meansyes. I’m glad. You two are good together. Like opposing forces finally combining into one, and their polarities fusing in harmony. Just like vinegar and oil in mayonnaise.”
“You did not just compare my future marriage to goddamned mayo!”
“Don’t wait too long to propose, though. Or someone else may snatch her up.”
A series of shots spray the side of the vehicle I’m using as cover. I send a few answering bullets in the direction of potential shooters, then duck back down to change the magazine.
“I’m… worried, Peppe. Terrified, actually. She’s so delicate. I’m not sure how she’ll handle the blowback from the Family.I swear, if anyone even looks at her sideways, never mind says something, I’ll obliterate the fucker. Even if it means I’ll end up massacring the entirety of Cosa Nostra. I just don’t want her hurt, you know?”
“Hurt is what makes us strong, Massimo, and she has already been through quite a bit of it. Give her a chance, and I’m certain she’ll surprise you.”
He cocks his gun and moves along the line of busted cars, sneaking up on the last of Efisio’s men still standing. The rest are scattered among the junk, either dead or on the fast track to meet their maker. However, there’s no trace of Efisio anywhere.