Auto Mechanic for the Mafia

Chapter 18

Marco POV

"Ok lads, here's the deal. I hacked into the system and found that the Mexican's are getting a huge shipment of cocaine to the north west docks near their base on Wednesday. If I did the calculations right, I'll of course check with Bex tomorrow, this should be the incoming 80% of their new product, giving them 6 million in new profit, and raising their net worth by 2%, including the investors that they will gain. If we can attack it and raid the docks, that will be a real win!" Rosco says.

A huge smile forms on my face, mirroring those of the boys around me. "Alright tomorrow we will make a plan," I say. "But for now, whiskey!" and I reach into my desk and pull out a new bottle.

It is currently 2:08 in the morning, now Sunday. We have been working all day, sending out fake dates and times for shipments, but making it look like we are trying to conceal them so that the Mexicans fall for our plan. Then, we have been actually planning our shipments so that nobody except my inner circle do and will know about them.

I start pouring the whiskey into 6 glasses, listening to Enzo make some dumb joke about Antonio's mom and Gio talk about his latest whore. 

My thoughts turn to Bex. Its been about a week since we stayed at hers. Since then, everything has been going really well between us, I'm not sure if it is because I saw her home or her nightmares, but she has been more open and I so have I.

Everyone in the house has begun to love her. She makes us breakfast in the mornings, and makes sure all the guards and men have a full cup of coffee before she starts her work. The boys and I have even gone to hers one night because we were bored, and when she got home from her shift, instead of freaking out, we had a movie night. I have taken her on two dates in the last week, both ending in mind blowing, hot, endless sex, with loving mornings. 

Something about that girl... I really am catching feelings for her, they are apparent even when I just look into her eyes. But the last few days of this week I can see have been hard on her. She has worked every day at the bar all week, and still comes to us at 8 the next morning. 

I told her that we wanted to raid the Mexicans in three weeks time, a week after the Mafia Ball, so she needs to have the cars ready. Because of this, in the last few days I haven't seen much of her. She is constantly in the garage working as hard as she can, she still gets the breakfast and coffee, but goes straight to work after.

I can tell she is getting tired, I haven't asked about her sleep as well, but due to the huge bags she poorly conceals under her eyes, I assume the nightmares have still continued. I offered that she could sleep with me some nights, I know I'm such a SIMP, but she refuses due to "Getting home late from the bar and her house is closer and she doesn't want to "intrude on my life".

I think I am going to give her tomorrow off, but not tell her until she gets here, because then she can spend the day with me. I have also been debating asking her to be my girlfriend. 

I am a fucking Mafia Don, I shouldn't have these feeling. I shot three people yesterday after intercepting a truck load of drugs. But she makes me feel like I can be good, that I am good for her and that I deserve to have some goodness in my life.

As I pass the whiskey to the boys, Enzo gets a call. "Oh, its Bex. She must've got off work." He accepts the call and puts her on speaker, but before he can say anything, she starts talking, and my heart drops out of my chest and past my stomach.

"Zozo, I fucked up. Real bad. I need help, please I need help." Bex says, her voice breaking, clearly on the verge of crying.

Out of instinct I stand up and all the boys come to circle around my desk, all of us with looks of concern on our faces, ready to go get Bex.

"Angel, talk to me. What happened are yo-you ok?" Enzo says, now his voice breaking, which definitely surprises me. I have never seen him like that, even when we saw her cornered by the Mexican Mafia.

Bex starts stuttering and murmuring so fast, nobody knows what she is saying. I grab the phone from Enzo and say, "Principessa, slow down baby, tell me what's happened!"

She takes a deep breath and starts again. "I was working my shift at the bar, and I got a headache around 1:30. I've had a long week, I don't know, I already wasn't in the mood and now I got that headache, I was just ready to leave."

"But some guy was harassing me yelling at me to get some drinks for him and his friends, telling me I should dance with him, and that I would have the best night of my life if I followed him to the bathroom or I would regret it." Her saying what this guy implied made my hands shake in anger.

"So of course I did the only rational thing to do and hopped over the bar, lifted his fat ass over my shoulder,  opened the back door and dumped him out onto the street, then locked the door and warned the security at the front," she says, gaining a snicker out of all of us.

"But my shift ended so I left, and while I was going out the employees door, he found me. He beat me bad, real bad, kicked me in the ribs and the stomach, slammed my head into the ground and the wall repeatedly and then left. I-I can't get up, please come get me." Then she starts to cry.

It doesn't take us more then two seconds for us all to sprint and grab our cars. Enzo's terrified face replaced with pure focus, he was going to get to her. On the way as we all speed down the highway, all I could think was this is my fault. 

If she wasn't so overworked maybe she wouldn't be so pissed off to shove a damn man out the door. She is a bad ass though, the thought making me grin.

We reach the bar and Enzo all but skirted out, rushing down the alley. I can't see her at first, every second longer that I can't find her makes my heart pound in fear so loud I can hear it. 

What if we didn't come in time? What if the man came back for a second round, or worse, took her? The thought makes my firsts curl in rage, and my eyes become more frantic as I look for her in a worse state of panic.

Then I see the heap of a person, lying against the wall on the ground, covered in bruises. 

No.

"So," Bex states, "Do I look as sexy as I feel?"