PROLOGUE
Amy
“AX?” I KNOCKED on his bedroom window and waited.
Nothing.
Fear gave into panic as I knocked harder the second time. The sound of glass breaking in the house behind me made my palms sweat. I could still hear my parents fighting. It was always the same with them; my father wanted to be more than just an associate. A made man, that was his dream. To become a made man for the De Lange family. One of the worst families in the American mafia. They didn’t play by the rules anymore and my dad wanted to be a part of their game — rules or no rules.
I knocked harder. “Ax, please, it’s Amy.”
The screaming got louder. I fought the urge to cover my ears as I glanced back at the house. Slinking further into the shadows I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. I hated Chicago. As soon as I was eighteen I was going to move. I wanted to be warm; just once in my life, I wanted to be warm.
The chill of fear and death surrounded me, had choked me from birth until now. I was seventeen. I only had one more year, one more year and I was running away. Ax said he’d help me, though I wasn’t sure what he could do since he was nothing but a mechanic.
Teeth chattering, I knocked one last time and prayed he was home. I’d already tried his cell, but my call had gone straight to voicemail.
Finally, I saw a shadow move in the window.
And then I saw his face.
It was always like the first time with Ax. He had sharp defined cheekbones, a strong jaw, full lips meant for kissing — though it’s not like I would know; I was his friend, nothing more. He was beautiful. Like the prince from a storybook. I’d always thought of him as my own personal prince and he’d always laughed it off saying princes in the stories never worked on cars and had grease on their faces.
“Amy?” He jerked open the window; his shirtless body stole my breath away as his muscles flexed to push the last part of the window up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Why the hell do you have a bruise on your cheek?”
“Too many questions.” I forced a watery smile. “Can I stay here tonight?”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping over with sadness, guilt, pity? Who knew? “Amy, this has to stop, why don’t you just move in?”
“Right.” I laughed. “Move in next door with the enemy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m related to the Abandonato family does not make me the enemy. I’m not in the business, neither is Pops. You know that.”
“Help?” I held up my arms.
Laughing, he reached over the ledge and hauled me into his room. His warm chest was all I needed; he was all I needed.
“Same fight?” He set me down onto my feet. I fought the urge to sway into his arms, to lie and say I tripped. Just being in his embrace made me forget about the pain on my cheek… and the accompanying pain in my heart due to the fact that my dad had hit me…again.
Ax steadied my shoulders with his hands then softly grazed his fingertips over my face as he reached up and touched the bruise. “I’ll kill him.”
“With a wrench?” I teased pulling away, even though that was the exact opposite of what I wanted.
“Ames…” Ax swore and ran his fingers through his messy dark brown hair. “Hitting you is not okay. It’s never okay for a man to touch you in a violent way. I don’t care if you yell in his face, I don’t care if you kick him in the junk and pull a freaking gun on him — it’s never okay for a father to touch his daughter in a way that isn’t an expression of pure love and devotion.”
“Nice words…” I bit down on my lip to keep myself from bursting into tears. “They sound pretty… a little too pretty for someone like me.”
“Amy.” Ax gripped my chin with his hand. “You deserve more than nights crawling into a loser’s house just because you have to escape your dad.”
I jerked away. “You’re not a loser.”
“I’m not exactly a winner either.” His lips twisted into a smirk “But I’m glad I’d get your vote for Homecoming King if it came down to it.”
I rolled my eyes. “How’s work?”
“It’s work,” he said in a serious tone. Something flashed in his eyes before he looked away and pointed to the bed. “Right or left?”
“Middle?”
Rolling his eyes he asked again, “Right or left?”
“Middle.”
“I can do this all night, Ames.”
“Funny, me too.” I crossed my arms and grinned.
He burst out laughing. “Fine, you can have part of the middle, and I’ll just try not to fall on the floor, but no promises.”
I moved towards the bed. “If I hear a loud thunk I promise not to scream.”
“Right, it’s just my head shaking hands with the nightstand, no big.” He winked and pulled the covers back. “Need something to sleep in?”
“Uh, yeah.” I looked down at my jeans and white t-shirt self consciously pulling it over my stomach. My dad always yelled at me for wearing skanky outfits but it wasn’t for lack of trying to wear normal clothes. We had no money, and I didn’t exactly have funds for shopping. How was it my fault I hit a growth spurt?
I hoped Ax didn’t notice the blush on my face. I was ashamed that I couldn’t even afford to go to Walmart.
I was even more ashamed that my father blamed me for his inability to stop gambling.
“He a made man yet?” Ax asked once we were settled into bed.
“No.” I wrapped my arm around his chest, my usual position when I spent the night. “And it’s not like things would get better even if he was, but you aren’t supposed to know any of that. It’s not like the mafia smiles on people who know their business.”
He snorted, his body tensed. “Right.”
“I mean it, Ax. I can’t lose you.”
“I’m a mechanic, hardly a threat.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now try to sleep.”
I closed my eyes and took a relaxing breath just as a loud gunshot rang my ears, jolting me awake.
“Stay down.” Ax pushed me against the bed, his body hovering over mine. His entire face changed from calm to rage in that instant. His muscles flexed as he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a .45.
“Ax?” I whispered. “Why do you have a gun?”
“Shh.” He held the gun to his lips. “I need you to be quiet.”