Free Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1) by Amanda Washington Page A

a bomb, my father’s armory, all the shit I couldn’t do anything about. But Markie’s sister… I could help her. I needed that, needed to feel like something other than a useless pawn in a war I didn’t want.
    “We’re going in there, aren’t we?” Bones asked after a time.
    Resigned, I sighed, swung open my door, and got out. Bones followed me back to the apartment door. I knocked with a little more force than necessary, but I was pissed and didn’t know if it was because of my decision, the situation, or life in general.
    Markie answered. “You’re back? Matt’s still not here and my sister is—”
    “—the reason we’re here,” I said, cutting her off. “We need to come in, Markie. We need to see her.”
    “Why?” Markie asked. “Did she do something wrong? She really is sick, I swear. Can’t you come back when she feels better?”
    I hadn’t anticipated her resistance, and it irritated the hell out of me. I was trying to help, after all, and couldn’t think of what to say to get her to let us in.
    Luckily Bones didn’t need an invitation or even approval. He barged right in, somehow squeezing between Markie and the door frame, and marched into the living room.
    “Hey!” Markie shouted, jumping aside. “You can’t just come in here! You got a warrant?”
    Bones ignored her and kept walking.
    Markie looked to me. “What the heck?”
    I shrugged and sniffed, confirming what I’d suspected. Recalling her last name from the driver’s license she’d showed at the restaurant, I said, “Sorry, Ms. Davis. Smells like marijuana in here and we’re looking for a suspect. Reasonable suspicion.”
    I didn’t know if that was a “thing,” but it sounded good. Hopefully good enough to keep her from calling the real cops.
    Her cheeks reddened. “It was Matt. I swear.”
    “Angel, get in here!” Bones shouted.
    I followed his voice to a small, dark bedroom. Clothes were bursting out of the closet on the left-hand side, and more clothes were folded and stacked on a chest of drawers in the corner. Bones stood beside the bed, tugging back the pile of blankets to reveal a waif of a girl who looked barely out of high school. Sweat glistened over every inch of skin that her shorts and T-shirt revealed.
    Markie gasped. “She looks even worse.” She hurried to the bed and grabbed her sister’s hand. “Ari, honey, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
    Ariana’s eyes popped open. She looked up at us and her bloodshot eyes widened. She sat up and reached for the blankets, tugging them with her as she scooted away from Bones.
    “What the hell did you do, Markie? Get them out of here. Get out of my house!” Then she winced and grabbed at her lower back. A stream of obscenities shot out of her mouth like a spray gun, drenching us in vulgarity. Midtirade she fell over, passing out cold.
    Bones sprang into action. He checked her pulse, her arms, and her eyes. Then he looked around the room. “Do you know what she used?” he asked Markie.
    “What she used for what?” Markie asked.
    Bones shook his head and ripped open the drawer of Ariana’s nightstand, riffling through the contents.
    “Hey! I don’t think you should be going through her stuff,” Markie objected.
    Bones pulled out a small plastic bag, halting her protests. He licked the tip of his finger, stuck it in the baggie, and tasted the contents.
    “Shit. This is absolute shit.” He looked at Markie and added, “Get her to a hospital. Now.”
    I expected Markie to argue or freak out or something, but she looked from Bones to the bag to her sister, and her whole demeanor changed. She took charge.
    “She doesn’t have a car. Can you take us?” She turned her gorgeous blue eyes on me. They were glassy from the smoke and watery from the tears she fought. “Please?”
    The smart move would be to have her call an ambulance. But then there’d be cops and probably a search of the apartment. Matt seemed like the type of idiot who stashed enough