“You. Get over there and join your friends.” Tony Rigatoni waves a very large gun at my face. He’s not a big man, but there’s something about his eyes that screams crazy person! It’s hard to describe other than they lack any sign of human warmth. Apart from that, he looks like your average Joe—short brown hair, medium build, and a paunch. Nothing menacing or scary about him, including his outfit. Brown pants, a gray golf shirt, and a Members Only jacket.
Okay, there is the gun, so I guess that makes him scary. My eyes gravitate toward a figure lying on the couch.
Now that makes him horrifying. Apparently, Tony has killed one of Dean’s teammates. Or could be a roommate. I really can’t tell from the angle of the hand mixer sticking out of the guy’s face.
What is with this guy and kitchen stuff? Maybe his mother was a mean chef.
Everyone else is gagged and has their feet and hands bound with rope. I count two girls and three guys, including the dead guy. I glance at the body again and realize it’s Mike, Dean’s roommate.
Oh no…
“Tony,” says Dean, holding Fia tightly, “your fight’s with me. Not anyone else.”
Tony’s brown eyes twitch, and he jerks the gun at Dean and me. “I’ll give you both five seconds to put down that baby, dump your phones, and sit on the floor.”
“We can’t put a baby on that carpet. It’s dirty,” I say.
Tony cocks his gun.
“Okay. Carpet it is.” I go to help Dean, who doesn’t want to let go of the baby. He gives me a look like he wants me to stop.
“Get behind me,” he whispers, and then he looks at Tony. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, because you’ll be living on the run the rest of your life if you kill us. And for what? Did you even love Marli?”
I want to point out that Tony is up the creek either way because he’s already killed Mike. Marli, too. Tony’s screwed the pooch on this one.
“What’s love got to do with it?” Tony says. “Marli was my property.”
Dean shrugs. “I had an old car once that just became a money pit. I would have been much better off trading it in for something more reliable, but did I? No. I just kept throwing money at it, and—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Tony yells. “Get on your knees.”
“What are you going to do with the baby?” I ask.
“Not your problem,” Tony says.
“You can’t take care of her—it’s a full-time job. You’ll be on the run. I can just leave her outside, okay? It’ll take two seconds. Someone will find her and take her to a good home.” I don’t know if that’s true, but at least she’ll have a chance.
“She’s not even mine. Why do I care if she lives?” Tony growls.
It dawns on me that he intends to kill us all. Or as many as he can manage with the supplies in Dean’s kitchen.
“She might be yours,” I say. “Don’t you want to know for sure before you…” My voice fades. I can’t say the words.
“All I know is she came out of that whore of my wife. The kid’ll just grow up to be trash like her mom.”
Ouch. Harsh.
I can tell that Tony’s reached his limit, and our attempt to buy more time has ended. I hoped someone would show up for the party or one of those pesky reporters might knock on the door and distract Tony long enough for me to make a move. God knows Dean has his hands full with precious cargo.
Dean and I exchange glances. I’m not sure, but I think we’ve both reached the same conclusion. Only a miracle is going to save us.
I walk over to join the group crammed together on the other side of the living room in front of the sliding glass door. Dean crouches and sets Fia on the carpeted floor. She instantly begins screaming bloody murder.
“Make her stop!” Tony says.
“I can’t do that without picking her up,” Dean says.
I’m about to say I’ll get her because I want Dean to have a chance to use that famous speed and powerful body to steamroll this guy, but Dean is too quick, eager to protect his baby daughter. He scoops her up and starts to soothe her with a back rub.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door.
“You go sit down. No one makes a sound, or I’ll shoot you.” Tony waves his gun right at Dean.
Are we saved by the bell? Please be the police looking to interview us. Please, please, please.
Tony waits until we’re seated and in position at the furthest edge of the room, making it impossible to rush at him without getting shot first.
The person at the door knocks again, and Tony goes to answer it.
“Yeah. What do you want?” Tony says.
I hear a sound, like something smashing into flesh and bone. There’s a grunt, followed by a groan. I know in my heart that whoever was at the door is victim number two for the night.
I have to do something. I have to get that gun away from Tony. I know he’ll shoot me, but what choice do I have? Once, a very long time ago, I didn’t stand up and fight for someone I loved very much. She was my flesh and blood, and I just gave her away when I should’ve made a stand. But I didn’t. And I’ve lived with nothing but regret. I refuse to go back to that place in my heart ever again.
I hop to my feet and rush toward the small entryway, ready to jump Tony the second he comes into view. I collide with a tall body and fly back, landing on my ass.
I look up and see a guy who looks like a thinner version of Dean—tall, hazel eyes, and broad shoulders.
Dean rushes over with a crying Fia. “Flip?”
DEAN
My little brother is standing in my apartment, and Tony Rigatoni is out cold on the floor.
I reach for Flip and hug him tight, trying not to crush a hysterical Fia. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but, man, am I happy to see you.” I release him and bask in the wonderful absurd luck that he showed up when he did. “What are you doing here?”
“I left rehab.”
Crap. He did this last time—said all the right things, pretended to follow the program, took his meds. He behaved just long enough so he could get out early. Which means he’s back on drugs again.
My heart sinks. But now is not the time to get into it. Mike is dead, people are tied up in my living room, and there’s an unconscious killer on my floor.
“No, Dean,” Flip says, reading my thoughts. “It’s not like that.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I see it on your face, bro. You think I’m free and looking to party. But I’m not. I’m working hard. I got clean and earned a spot at a halfway house.”
“You have?”
“You’d know that if you bothered answering my calls.”
“I tried calling you back, but—” I run a hand through my hair. “You’re right. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you’ve been MIA lately. It made me realize I needed to do this on my own. I needed to prove I could make it through the program and stay clean on the outside.”
This is amazing. In the past, he only did the bare minimum so he could get out and go back to drugs. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Guys,” Lara barks, picking up Tony’s gun off the floor and shoving into her waistband, making her look dangerous. So hot! “Can you save the family reunion for later? I need help untying everyone. And it would be great if someone called the police before Mr. Kitchen Magic wakes up.” She looks at Flip. “By the way, it’s great to meet you.” She goes right in and hugs Flip. “How did that even happen?” She glances at Tony on the floor.
Flip shrugs. “He opened the door, and I recognized him right away. The news showed his face right after you held that conference before the game.”
Finally. Those stupid reporters are good for something. “What did you hit him with?” I ask.
“My fists. Finally paid off growing up in that shitty neighborhood.” Flip bobs his head at Tony, looking proud of his handiwork. For the first time in a long time there’s life in his eyes. He looks good. Healthy.
“Fia, meet your uncle Flip.” I hand over my crying daughter.
“No. I can’t hold her…” He takes her anyway, and Fia immediately stops crying.
“She likes you.” We might have a future sitter. Not now, of course, but I can be hopeful. Today has been a day of miracles, after all. I’m alive. My family’s okay. And Tony is no longer a threat. Plus, touchdowns.
I look at the unconscious piece of shit on my floor and give him a hard kick to the ribs. “That’s for Marli.”