Gangster Moll (Gun Moll #2)

“All right, that’s enough,” Mac said, never taking his eyes off the road in front of them. “Act like children on your own time.”


He should have known that with these two, given their entirely opposite personalities, having them close together would only end badly. Enric was too aloof, and didn’t mind telling someone to cut out their bullshit. Victoria was loud and sometimes her personality was a bit much.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Mac sighed, knowing he didn’t have very many other options at his disposal.

Hopefully, his mother would keep Enric and Victoria from killing each other.

That was his piss-poor plan.

“I get the Challenger, right?” Enric asked from the back.

Victoria’s eyebrow cocked at Mac. “What’s he talking about?”

Shit.

So maybe Mac hadn’t told Victoria everything just yet.

Mac waved a hand, dismissing Victoria’s bitter question. “It’s nothing—just a secondary precaution while I figure some things out.”

“What precaution?” Victoria practically screeched.

That migraine was beginning to make its appearance again.

Awesome.

“Oh, your brother forgot to tell you?” Enric asked, smirking at Victoria in a way that said he was going to enjoy this.

“Enric,” Mac warned.

The younger man didn’t even act like he heard him.

It seemed like Enric was enjoying teasing and torturing Victoria. Maybe a little too much.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on your mother … and you,” Enric said, his grin deepening. “For a little while. Should be fun.”

Victoria turned her burning eyes on Mac.

He pulled into his mother’s driveway at the same time.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, Mac tossed them back to Enric and opened the car door to get the hell out before Victoria could say another word to him. Was it cowardly? Hell yes.

He was not in the mood to deal with his sister, though.

“Call me if you need something,” Mac said over his shoulder, heading for the road. He hadn’t directed his statement to one particular person in the car. Already, he could hear them arguing behind him again.

He’d call a fucking cab to get home.

This was for Victoria and his mother’s own good.

Yeah, that’s what he was going to keep telling himself.





Mac had gone back to the apartment first, thinking his wife would be there waiting for him. After the day they had had, together and separately, he figured she would want nothing more than a quiet night in with some good food, a movie or two, and him.

The apartment was empty when he had arrived.

Melina was nowhere in sight.

He found the note she left behind, scribbled in her familiar feminine scrawl.

The tape is off The Dollhouse.

Be home after supper.

Love, Melina.

It would have been better—safer—had Melina stayed home and waited to go into work once Mac was back, but that wasn’t the way his doll worked. She intended to keep that business going, and make it a fucking success, no matter what it meant or cost them to do it. He couldn’t even find it in himself to get annoyed that she had gone as soon as the tape had been taken off the place.

Mac had passed the clock on the kitchen wall a look. It showed that by the time he had gotten home, it was well beyond supper time.

Melina probably didn’t even realize the time.

So, he’d locked up their apartment, and gone to her.

Keeping his mother and sister safe by making sure they were together, quiet, and had someone watching them was one thing. But Melina? That was not as simple. His wife wouldn’t go quietly into the night to hide out in an apartment until he had shit straightened out and gotten done whatever else he needed to do in the process.

Frightened, Melina was not.

Mac didn’t even think the word was in her dictionary.

That only left him with one real option, as far as he was concerned. He would have to keep his wife close—closer than he normally would. Usually he did his business, and she did hers, and they were almost always apart because that was their nature of works. Mac had to be everywhere at once, all across the city, visiting men, collecting money, and seeing to his crew and their activities. He couldn’t just sit in one place and wait for the money to come to him. That wasn’t how a Capo’s job worked.

The Dollhouse was sometimes the exception.

When things were quiet, Mac could chill out there while Melina did her thing before it had opened. Even now, he suspected he could still hang out there with his wife if he wanted.

And that was probably what he would need to do now.

At least for a little while.

Melina likely wouldn’t think much of Mac being around more, especially after the second shooting. But he wasn’t sure on how much of the other stuff he was going to let her in on. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his wife.

God, he trusted that woman with his life.

He just didn’t think it would do her any good to worry about things she couldn’t control.

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