“I guess Garnet’s been a bad influence on me.” Romeo laughed with her. “You wanna go grab something to eat? We’ll look for a legitimate restaurant?”
“I knew you’d get back to food.” Jules poked him in the side playfully. “You always do.”
“And I need real food. None of this empty calorie shit we’ve been eating.” Romeo emphasized. “You take it outta me. I need genuine fuel.”
“Then let’s go find ya real food.” Jules crawled off Romeo and set her tea on the nightstand. She walked over to her suitcase. “But it’s gonna take me a bit to do something with my hair. I forgot a dang hairdryer. I wonder if the hotel’s got one.”
“Don’t count on it.” Romeo snorted as he also rolled out of bed. “I’m gonna get dressed and go down to grab my phone. I left it in the car for sanity purposes.”
“Better you than me. I still ain’t worked up the nerve to turn on mine.” Jules stepped into a clean pair of panties and frowned when she saw Romeo grab a pair of jeans out of his suitcase. “I thought we were going somewhere nice?”
“I didn’t say nice; I said real. Like a pizza place or something?” Jules laughed as she fussed with her bra. “That’s real food to you?”
“Yeah.” Romeo held up his hands as if it was obvious. “Pizza has all the major food groups. It’s the most balanced meal you can eat.”
“It doesn’t have legumes.”
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Romeo cupped himself through his jeans that were still unbuttoned and hanging open. “Legume this.”
Jules laughed harder and had to turn away from him or she’d never get dressed.
“I’m just gonna tie my hair up if we’re going someplace casual.” ROMEO GOT DRESSED faster than Jules did, perhaps because he was more motivated. Living on love was good in theory, not so great in execution. He was seriously starving. They should have gotten snacks like Jules suggested. Then they could have stayed in bed the rest of the night.
“I’m gonna take care of you when I get back,” Romeo promised as he put on his slip-on shoes by the door. “Don’t think I forgot.”
“I ain’t worried ’bout it.” Jules turned from the open bathroom door, her hair in her hand as she worked on tying up the long, wet strands. “I know you’re good for it.” Romeo left without the key card, knowing Jules would let him in when he returned. He was two steps out of the door when he looked up and his brain had a painful flip-flop moment.
For one instant he thought he was looking at Nova down the open hallway to the motel that faced the street. With six other guys behind him, there wasn’t anything at all odd about that picture, except he was too old to be Nova. He was too thick around the middle and several inches too short. Their mother had been tall for an Italian and Nova and Tino had both ended up close to six feet, when their father wasn’t more than five-eight. This was the exact same moment he had whenever he ran into Frankie. It made his brain hurt that someone he hated with every ounce of his being looked so very much like someone he’d loved.
Romeo turned on his heel, slammed his hand against the door that was dented on the side and hadn’t clicked shut. He burst back into the motel room. “Call 911!” Jules spun and looked at him with wide eyes. Wearing only her white lace bra and jeans, she ran to the motel phone and picked it up without asking questions. Instead she
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shouted, “Guns!” and then promptly dropped the receiver without talking to the 911
operator.
Romeo was way ahead of her and silently promised if they made it out of this alive, he’d never again give Jules shit about being prepared because she’d sat down last night and actually loaded all their weapons—just in case.
Jules dashed up to him, grabbed a 12-gauge shotgun, and asked in a panicked voice. “You’re sure it’s Frankie?” Crouched behind the bed, she tucked another gun into the back of her jeans. “Absolutely sure?”
“I’m sure.” Romeo pointed a 9mm at the door that he realized now he hadn’t closed fully due to that damn dent in the side of it.
He would have rushed to close it, but Frankie’s crew was already there. The pounding of shoes echoing down the hallway ended with the door being jerked open.
As the lights from the motel parking lot suddenly flooded the dimly lit room, the double click of a shotgun shell being forced into the chamber preceded a blast that nearly deafened Romeo. He stared in horror as Alberto Moretti flew back against the railing with a gaping, grisly hole in his chest. The blood spread over the cement floor in the hallway and splattered the door frame. There was so much of it. Romeo could hardly comprehend that his wife had just mutilated Gino’s father.