Making the Break Read online

  “I was going to ask you, but I wanted to take you to that restaurant on the shore you like so much. Take a walk on the beach in the moonlight and then ask you.”

  “What?” Gloria exclaimed, one octave away from a shriek. “Well, if something happens to Saks, you can forget it. I won’t have anything to do with a man who hurts the man Chrissy loves.”

  “Stop saying that!” Chrissy was at the end of her patience with Gloria.

  “I wasn’t hurting Saks,” protested Marcus.

  “You knew about it and didn’t stop it,” said Gloria, fully outraged. If Chrissy wasn’t driving, she would have kissed her for it. Not that she loved Saks. Yeah, he was incredibly hot and set her afire just thinking about him, but that was lust, not love. But Chrissy did appreciate her little sister sticking up for her.

  “Women!” Marcus threw up his hands. “Who can understand them?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Saks turned his head away from his cousin, not knowing what to say. Yeah, things were not going in the right direction. This was going to turn into a gang war. Someone had engineered it that way. How could he explain that? He did not know whether it was Vits or Pandolfo Serafini who started the whole crazy scheme.

  “What I know is Uncle Vits and Pandolfo Serafini are playing a sick game and I’m in the one in the middle, along with Serafini’s granddaughter, Chrissy. They chose two of the most unlikely family members and tried to pair them. Except they knew both of us would be kicking and screaming about the ridiculousness of it. Someone wants a war. Who it is? I’m not sure.”

  “What is this about pairing family members?” Louis shook his head.

  “Yeah, they had this arranged marriage all planned. Me and Chrissy Serafini. Vits and Pandolfo came together and said we had to marry to cement relationships between the Rocco and Serafini families.

  “Holy shit! How the hell’s that supposed to work?”

  “It didn’t. At least, not very well. According to Miss Serafini, I’m not fit to wipe her boots.”

  “You, Saks, struck out with a woman?”

  “I can’t say I struck out. Game called on account of rain.”

  Louis was about to say something when the doorbell rang.

  “Finally,” said Saks. “Someone used the doorbell. It’s probably Oakie. He’s supposed to come by to keep an eye on me.”

  “Why?”

  “Long story.” Saks crossed the room to open the door, and immediately flew back as the door slammed opened. Two beefy and clearly threatening guys stood crowding the doorway.

  Louis drew his service weapon and pointed it to the doorway. “Police! Stop!”

  But the two men didn’t stop. One picked up Saks and threw him against the wall. The other flung himself forward and landed on Louis. The gun went off, but then fell to the floor. Saks got three vicious jabs to his midsection before he could get off a fist to his attacker’s jaw.

  “Sonafabitch,” grunted his attacker.

  Saks letting loose a volley of blows to the man’s face and midsection. The big man backed up, flailing his arms as Saks pummeled his flesh. But the man picked up the lamp on a table on the long wall in front of the bedroom and attempted to slam it on Saks’ head. Remembering the doctor’s instructions to avoid further head injuries, he raised this arms over his head to block the assault. The lamp hit the underside of his arms painfully. He groaned but managed a half-turn, transferred his weight to his right leg, and kicked out with his left foot.

  The man, unbalanced from swinging the lamp, fell. His ass thumped on the floor.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” Oakland Walker stomped into the room and hauled the man attacking Saks away and forced him onto his feet. He shook him like a rag doll. “Who the fuck are you?” Oakie, with his Spawn leather coat, long grey beard, and muscular arms looked like a nightmare ready to unleash hell.

  The man on Louis stood. His face blanched when he spotted Oakie holding his buddy like an errant toy and attempted to run. But Oakie shoved his first captive toward Saks and threw out his arm, catching him under the chin. The force of the attacker’s forward motion meeting the unstoppable force landed him on his butt.

  Oakie hauled him up by the back of his neck as well. “Who the fuck are you? Do either one of you muscled-bound gym bunnies have any idea who you’re fucking with? Anyone who messes with a Spawn messes with the whole club. Do you want the Hades Spawn on your ass?”

  Both men glowered at Oakie, but kept their mouths shut.

  “Who do you work for?” questioned Anglotti. Again, neither man said a word.

  “Nothing, eh?” said the detective. “One of you will talk when we get to the station. One of you will stay out of jail. The charge is assault and assaulting a police officer. Gets stuck on both of you since you’re working together. So, I wonder which one it will be who spills his guts.” Louis took out a pair of handcuffs and a zip tie. He pulled at the one Saks held. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be held against you...” Louis continued his spiel as he handcuffed the man. Then he did the same thing to the other and pulled out his phone and called for backup.

  “What about him?” complained one of the attackers, nodding to Oakie. “Doesn’t he get arrested, too?”

  “This ain’t no domestic fight, asshole,” said Louis. “Sit, both of you, on that couch until the patrol cars come to take you to the station.”

  They sat with encouragement from Oakie as Louis looked around the room.

  “What are you looking for?” asked Saks.

  “My service revolver. I dropped it in the fight.”

  “Is this it, asshole?” said one of the attackers. He had freed his hands from the zip tie and in a flash bent to the floor, picked up the gun, stood, and pointed it at Anglotti.

  Louis looked over his shoulder toward the man pointing the gun at him. “Shit.”

  “Now you,” he ordered Louis. “Unlock his handcuffs and then all of you will get away from the door.”

  “Fuck you,” said Louis. “I’m not letting you leave here with my gun.”

  “How about it I give you it to you a piece at a time?” The man pulled the trigger. Saks reacted without thought. He flew at his cousin and knocked him over. White-hot pain flashed in his shoulder as Oakie moved forward. Saks groaned turned to see Oakie plow into the man with the force of a bull, dropping him against the wood coffee table in front of the couch. The man grunted as the coffee table splintered in pieces on the floor.

  Saks clasped his hand to his shoulder, trying to ignore the pain and the blood streaming from it.

  “Fuck,” said Louis. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Shouldn’t have done what?” said a feminine voice. “Saks! Son of a bitch! What’ve you done to yourself now?”

  “What the hell?” said another male voice.

  Saks groaned when he saw it was Marcus. Of course, when he got hurt Marcus wasn’t far away.

  “Gloria,” said Chrissy. “Call an ambulance.” She knelt beside him. “Give me a pillow for him,” she ordered to no one. “And towels.”

  Marcus ambled in while Oakie and Louis secured the man who fired the gun once more. Oakie stood guard over them with a scowl on his face, daring either to move. Sirens sounded in the background as Marcus handed Chrissy a pillow she slipped behind Saks’ head.

  “You just can’t do without me,” she tutted. “I leave you alone for half a day and you get yourself shot.”

  She said this with a slight smile and a worried look on her face at the same time. All he wanted to do was kiss her pretty pink lips. The pain was making him delirious.

  “Did you get my flowers?” He was feeling woozy, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his eyes open. He felt pressure on his shoulder and Chrissy held one of his expensive white, one-hundred- percent cotton towels to the gunshot wound.

  “You sent the flowers?”

  “Sure. Who else would send you a card with a quote from Shakespeare? Or do yo
u have a bunch of men who do that?”

  “No,” she said gently. “No one sends me flowers but you.”

  “The florist did sign my name, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, yes,” she said thickly. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “Don’t cry, Chrissy.” He tried to raise his hand to wipe it away.

  “Where’s the damn ambulance?” she yelled.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  They wouldn’t let her go with him in the ambulance. She was so frantic that Marcus drove them all to the hospital. This time, however, the fiction of Chrissy’s sisterly relationship to Saks was ripped to shreds. The staff would give her no information about Saks at the desk and told her to go the waiting room.

  Chrissy, Marcus, and Gloria entered the waiting room to find two men wearing Hades Spawn jackets. One was the man at Saks’ apartment. His jacket had embroidered badges that announced him as “Oakie” and “President.” The other’s jacket said “Spade.”

  She remembered seeing the man at the party at the Red Bull, talking with Saks.

  Spade stood with his arms crossed when a nurse in blue scrubs talked with him. He signed something on a clipboard and gave it to her. His face was grim.

  When the nurse left, Chrissy worked up the nerve to talk to him. “What’s happening with Saks?”

  “They took him to pre-op to stabilize him for surgery. He lost a lot of blood. They had to fix that before they could take him in.”

  Chrissy didn’t know how to respond.

  “Maybe you should go,” growled Oakie. “We’ll take care of this.”

  “No,” said Spade. “She should stay. Anglotti may want to talk to her, and he said he’d be by once he booked the two assholes.”

  “His family should know,” piped up Gloria.

  Oakie snarled when Gloria spoke. “Yeah,” he said with a dismissive rumble. “That’s why Saks made Luke his contact on all his papers.”

  “Hey,” said Gloria, raising her hands. “You don’t know a thing about Saks’ family.”

  “You’re right. Because he didn’t want to have anything to do with them.”

  “Gloria,” said Chrissy. “Just give it a rest. If it wasn’t for us, or his family, Saks wouldn’t have a bullet in his shoulder right now.”

  “Still—” said Gloria.

  “Leave it, Gloria. For once in your life, just listen,” said Marcus. “I’ll be right back.”

  The two bikers paced while Chrissy sat, miserable and worried sick about Saks. When she faced her grandfather, she’d have some choice words for him.

  The two bikers on the opposite side of the room wouldn’t stop glaring at them.

  Marcus strolled back into the waiting room and sat next to them. “I called your grandfather,” he said quietly. “He’s furious.”

  “Furious,” snapped Chrissy. “Why? Because those goons didn’t finish the job?”

  “It’s not like that, Chrissy,” rumbled Marcus. “He didn’t send those guys.”

  “Right. You told me—”

  “He didn’t send those guys. He’s making a call to Saks’ uncle and letting him know what happened.”

  “That’s gutsy. Or incredibly stupid.” Chrissy crossed her arms and glared at Marcus.

  “No. It’s necessary. Better Vits hears it from your grandfather than the streets.”

  More leather-jacketed men entered the waiting room and spoke to Oakie and Luke in hushed tones. Some of them glanced toward Chrissy, Gloria, and Marcus with undisguised curiosity and contempt.

  Half an hour later, and with a great deal of noise, her grandfather, father, and mother entered the waiting room.

  Immediately after them filed in another group of people. The only one she recognized was Vits Rocco, Saks’ great-uncle. There was a man and an older woman and a younger woman who crowded to the Spawns’ side of the room. Chrissy stared at them. The man had the height of Saks, and the same kind of face. But the nose and the eyes of the woman marked her as Saks’ relative as well. This must be his mother and father. And the girl? She had a more feminine version of Saks’ face. She must be his sister.

  They spoke with Luke and then glanced at Chrissy. She wanted to fade into the wall she stood against and possibly to the depths of Hell to hide. It was her fault that Saks was hurt.

  “So sorry to hear about this,” rumbled her grandfather.

  “Chrissy, are you okay?” asked her mother.

  “Yes, yes, of course. We came in after—” All of a sudden, tears welled in Chrissy’s eyes. This was impossible. She was worried, frightened, and angry as hell. Chrissy trembled, wanting to explode, but all that came out were tears.

  Her mother wrapped her arms around her. “There, there,” said Maria Serafini. “I didn’t know you cared about him.”

  “Care?” snapped Chrissy too loudly. Suddenly all eyes in the room were on her, but she paid no attention. “Why should I care? He’s just another piece on the Serafini game board, just like I am.”

  “Christina!” growled her father in warning. He glanced over to Vits, who looked away.

  “No! I won’t stop. This was entirely ridiculous, this whole thing. And now Saks is in surgery, having to literally fight for his life!” She pushed her mother away and straightened. “There’s one thing I will never do. And that’s to have anything to do with you or the Roccos ever again.” She spun around and started for the door when a doctor entered.

  “You all the family of Anthony Parks?” He seemed pretty surprised.

  You could hear a pin drop as the three different factions that held sway over Saks’ life waited for some someone to come forward. It was a Rocco who did.

  “I’m Anthony’s father.”

  The doctor blinked. “He mentioned a... Chrissy. Asked if she was here.”

  “That’s me,” she replied, stepping forward.

  “He’d like to see you.”

  “But what about him? He’s okay? If he’s talking, he’s gotta be okay, right?” asked Mr. Parks.

  “The surgery went well. He’ll need recovery and physical therapy, but he should be fine.”

  “Can I see him?” said the woman next to Saks’ father. “I’m his mother.”

  The doctor looked around the waiting room and pursed his lips.

  “In a bit. He did ask to see this young lady here, so let’s start with that. And his immediate family. But the rest of you should go home. He’s still in recovery and shouldn’t have visitors. He’s had a concussion and now a gunshot wound.” He shook his head and sighed. “Don’t you people ever stop?”

  “We keep you in business,” said Oakie. “One of us will hang around. He’s our brother, and obviously someone needs to stand watch over him.” He glared at the Roccos and the Serafinis in the room, the faces of whom drew up in anger at the insult.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” spit Vittorio Rocco. “We’re his family.”

  “And he’s our brother,” said Oakie. The rest of the Spawn lined up next to Oakie, forming a wall of biker muscle.

  “Enough,” said the doctor. “As I said: all of you, out of here, or I’m calling security.”

  “Come,” said Chrissy’s mother. “Vittorio, Carmello, Maria, to our house while we wait for news.”

  “That’s generous, daughter,” said Pandolfo. “We’ll eat, have some wine. And relax and talk.”

  “Sounds like a party.” Chrissy snorted. “I’m going to talk to Saks.” She glared at the doctor. “Can you get me out of this room?”

  The doctor looked happy to help her.

  She flounced down the halls of the hospital, following the doctor as he took the winding hallways to the recovery room. It took everything not to gasp when she stepped in. Saks was hooked up to tubes and wires, and lay very still in bed with his eyes closed. “I thought you said he was okay.”

  “Yes. But this was major surgery. He’s going to be okay. Just needs to rest.” He stood as she turned to stare again at Saks. “I’ve got other patients. If you have any questi
ons you can ask the nurse.”

  “Okay,” said Chrissy. For the first time in her life she was totally at a loss as to what to do. Saks was hurt, all because her crazy family got on board with an insane scheme to get her married into the Rocco family. Marcus said it wasn’t Serafini men who did this, but who? His own family wouldn’t try to hurt Saks, would they? It was all damn strange and she couldn’t parse any of it.

  She walked toward Saks, quietly and scared. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his leg.

  Saks’ eyes fluttered open and he smiled dozily. He shifted and groaned. “Hey...”

  “Hey,” she replied weakly.

  A nurse came in and checked Saks’ stats. Chrissy stood silently, watching her. “You did a good job,” the nurse said. “The EMTs said you put the compression on his shoulder and slowed the blood loss.”

  “Yeah,” she said. What could she say? That pressing one of Saks’ towels to his shoulder was the least she could do?

  When the nurse left again, she asked Saks quietly, “How do you feel?”

  “Pretty doped up.” He grinned sloppily. “So, pretty good considering I had a bullet lodged in my shoulder.”

  “Yeah. That guy was an ass for shooting.” She couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

  “Tomorrow,” he fought to keep his eyes open, or to stop from rolling, “will be a different story when they put me on a morphine drip.” He moved the hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Or I’m on it now. And they take if off. It’s different... drugs are wack.”

  “Oh.” Wack?

  He blinked a few times and then squinted as he stared at her. “Chrissy, your eyes are red.”

  “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” She dropped her gaze and then brought it up when he chuckled.

  “Ohhh yeah,” Saks said, grinning again. “I remember that.”

  “How can you even talk to me?” she burst out. “If you hadn’t gotten involved with me none of this would have happened.”

  “Hell, Chrissy. This isn’t a thing. Just a shoulder wound.”

  “Those men could have killed you.”