Free Betrayed (Chianti Kisses #3) by Tara Oakes

is.
    “I’ll call him, V. Go get some rest. You look tired.”
    She blows me a kiss and gently closes the carved door behind her leaving me to my charade. The instant the heavy door clicks shut, the pretense of a smile falls from my lips.
    Between her texts, John’s calls, and even Mikey’s emails, I feel like I’m dodging bullets in all directions trying to avoid them all. I can’t keep this up much longer.
    I pick up the phone and pound in the numbers.
    “Get your ass over here,” I command into the receiver when answered.
    I don’t wait for a reply, a question, or even an acknowledgment… although he knows better than that. I simply take out my anger at myself by passing it along to him.
    Comes with the territory and he knows how to take it.
    It takes him mere minutes to show himself, meaning that for once he’d actually been where he’s supposed to have been. In his own place. Good. Maybe  that sneaking around shit between Theresa and him is finally over.
    “Yeah, boss?” Carmine doesn’t even bother to knock while rushing in with a half –eaten sandwich of some god-awful cheesy mess and a soda in the other.
    I roll my eyes at his meal choice. “You really do eat like shit, don’t you?” 
    He answers by taking another messy bite, threatening to drop some tomato sauce on the imported area rug that costs more than he makes in a month. He makes a save, though, and holds the crispy-crusted sub high to lick the glob of red from the bottom.
    “That crap will kill you one day,” I finish.
    He shrugs his shoulders. “Better this than a bullet.”
    The agitation building in me throughout the day finds an escape. “Not likely.”
    He stops mid-chew and freezes, taking in the weight of my words. Considering he’s already taken a bullet for me and at least three others judging by the scars that I’ve been able to see on his upper body, I realize that phrase probably hits a little too close for comfort.
    “Sorry… I didn’t mean that.” I quickly try to douse the flames but I can see the damage has been done.
    His lifestyle and career choice have a limited shelf life and unfortunately …not a very long life expectancy. Just one more reason why he doesn’t need to form ties with people who would be left behind to mourn him like V did with her dad. Like Theresa would….
    Carmine’s suddenly lost his appetite and looks at the sandwich like it’s a pile of raw dog food, tossing it into the nearby wastebasket. He busily chews the food in his mouth and dabs at his greasy fingers with the paper napkin from his pocket.
    “No sweat,” he puts on a brave face. “What do you need?”
    Men like Carmine, cold-blooded killers, they don’t want to dwell on hurt feelings and sappy stuff so I move on quickly.
    “I need you to go over to Joey’s shop. He’s got some files for me. Things I don’t want sent electronically. Good old-fashioned paper charts that can be burned later without a trace. I need them.”
    I know Joe and Carmine get along like two starving dogs fighting over a bitch in heat. Joe’s made no secret of his distrust for Carmine, and Carmine’s had no qualms about calling Joey out on his lack of experience being out of the game for all the years our family has chosen to remain apart from the action.
    With Joe as my right-hand man and Carmine as my left, these two need to get over their issues sooner rather than later before it ends in some petty garbage or a careless slip that could cost someone his life.
    “Sure thing. I’ll go pay Joey boy a visit and take a look at this garage he’s always bragging about. I’ll bet it’s nothing more than a glorified Jiffy Lube.”
    Carmine uses his thumbnail to scratch off a bit of melted cheese from his sandwich on one of the shell buttons near his collar. Knowing him and his penchant for style, I’m sure he’ll go have a GQ wardrobe change before going to meet his “buddy”.
    “And don’t get lost on the way. I want you back ASAP, kid. No