“Fucking bitch.”
Melina bit her lip as hot tears cascaded down her face. She wanted to fight back. She wanted to rip their faces off, but her continued resistance could cost her the baby’s life. Instead, she allowed the two men to lift her to her feet. Holding her tight by both arms, they marched her out of the kitchen and down the hall. When they came to the living room, she saw Enric lying face down. His blood soaked the carpet. Two bullet holes in his back continued to ooze blood.
She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
Enric was young.
So young.
Too young for the brutality of this lifestyle.
It was only when she noticed that three more bodies lay face down in the living room that she felt a small measure of comfort. Enric may have gone down, but he’d taken some of the bastards with him. Melina gasped as a sharp pain stabbed her in the side. Her ribs were bruised and possibly even broken from the force of the kick she’d received. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not ever. As she was dragged out of her apartment, Melina could only wonder just how deep the betrayal ran and if Mac even had a clue about the shit storm he was about to walk into.
“Ma?” Mac called, stepping further into the house. “Vic?”
“In the kitchen,” came the response.
Mac found his mother, and his sister, prepping dough at the island with flour up to their elbows. Both women looked perfectly happy in their element, and especially together. It made him smile.
It wasn’t often that he got sentimental, especially where his mother and sister were concerned. But seeing them like this, it reminded him of his younger years when his mother was just teaching them how to cook. Those were some of his fondest memories.
They hadn’t had a lot of money. That really hadn’t made much of a difference to the life his mother provided to him and his sister. Cynthia had given Mac and Victoria something better in her love, and that was what he remembered the most.
“Something smells good,” Mac noted, pulling up a stool to sit on.
Cynthia smiled over at her son, her hands still kneading the heavy dough. “I have a batch in the oven already. You can take some with you when it’s done.”
“If he stays long enough,” Victoria muttered.
“I’ll stay,” Mac assured.
“Where’s Melina?” Cynthia asked.
“At home, getting some rest.”
Mac chose his words carefully, knowing damn well his mother wouldn’t like the truth of the matter. He’d managed to keep the bomb incident from reaching his mother’s ears, and he planned to keep it that way forever, if he could help it. Cynthia wouldn’t like knowing how dangerous things were becoming for Mac, never mind Melina.
As it was, his mother didn’t approve.
She was barely dealing with the enforcers he had trailing her and watching her home.
Barely being the keyword.
“Is she not feeling well?” Cynthia asked, a smile starting to grow.
Mac wondered why on earth his mother would smile about Melina not feeling well.
“Something like that,” Mac settled on saying, still confused.
Victoria nudged her mother with her elbow, also smiling in a way that said the two were sharing a private secret that Mac was not privy to.
He wasn’t sure how much longer he was supposed to let this go on, but he was just about done with it all.
“All right, what am I missing?” he asked.
Cynthia tipped her head to the side, giving Mac a sly smile. “How long have you two been married now?”
“What does that have to do with you two acting strange?”
Victoria sighed, flicking her fingers at her brother and splattering him with dots of flour. He brushed off the spots from his suit as Victoria said, “Is she pregnant or what?”
“Victoria!” Cynthia exclaimed, looking mortified.
His sister acted like their mother hadn’t said a thing, never taking her eyes off of Mac. “Listen, Ma won’t ask because she’s too proper for it—your business, you handle it, okay. But Melina’s been shut in for a while. She hasn’t called me and she seemed tired the last time we did meet up, and maybe a bit more irritable than normal.”
Mac cleared his throat, amused. “And that made you think she’s pregnant? Because we all know Melina has her days, Vic.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Cynthia pressed her lips together and then quietly said, “She’s right. That wasn’t an answer, James.”
“You two are far too nosy for your own good.”
“I think what you mean is we’re very much alike,” Victoria replied, grinning.
Mac shrugged. “Same difference.”
Cynthia was not paying either of the siblings any mind, she only wanted her answer, Mac learned. “Well, is she? Pregnant, I mean.”
“Well …”
His mother stared, still and with excitement palpable.
She would be so happy, he knew.
Cynthia would make the best grandmother.