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

with a smirk.
    Sometimes I worried that Bones enjoyed the work a little too much.
    Johnny looked from his hand to me. “Two days. I can have the money in two days, max. Maybe sooner. Let me call my mom and she’ll get me some—”
    “Your hand, you damn mammone !” Bones shouted.
    Since Bones had spent his childhood providing for his mom, he had no tolerance for money-leeching momma’s boys.
    Johnny’s body began to shake. He slowly eased his hand toward Bones. “What are you going to do?” he asked. Fear hovered over him like a storm cloud.
    My stomach clenched. Johnny had been my friend once. In return, I’d been too kind and he’d taken advantage, bringing us to this point. It was his fault. He was the dumbass who gambled away my family’s money. So why did I feel so bad? Refusing to show my remorse, I gritted my teeth and steeled my expression.
    I knew Bones would do the deed for me; all I had to do was ask. But this was my mess to clean up, and I couldn’t afford to show weakness or grace. Father wanted me to learn the lesson, and I was sure as hell learning it. I stood and leaned against the bed.
    “Hold him,” I told Bones.
    An objection formed on my friend’s lips, but he didn’t voice it. He held Johnny’s wrist with both hands and waited.
    I gripped Johnny’s pinky finger. It felt so small and delicate, trembling in my hand.
    “Angel, no. Just give me two days. Please.” Johnny writhed on the bed, trying to get away. “I’ll pay. You know I will.”
    I couldn’t handle his begging anymore. I released his finger and picked up his discarded sock, stuffing it into his mouth. His eyes kept pleading, but they were easier to avoid. I returned my attention to his pinky. Grabbed it and yanked it upward until I heard the bone crack. Johnny screamed behind the sock, and the smell of urine filled the room. Then, I gripped his next finger and did the same thing. Another scream.
    Two fingers. Good enough. I couldn’t stomach anymore. I stood and told Bones to release Johnny. I was so pissed at him for making me do this, I wanted to break his entire hand.
    “We’re not friends, Johnny. Not anymore. No friend of mine would put me in the position you did. No friend of mine would steal from my family.”
    Tears ran down his face. I didn’t care. We left him like that, his feet and other hand still tied to that damn bed, lying in his own urine. He’d get free, or the maid would find him. Either way, Johnny would know there’d be no more leniency from my family.
    And maybe, just maybe, this knowledge would save his life.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Angel
     
    I COULDN’T ESCAPE from Johnny’s room fast enough. Fear, the smell of urine, and disgust threatened to gag me as I fled through the door, hurrying toward the elevator. The way Bones watched me made me feel like I had horns growing out of my head. The elevator doors closed, locking us inside. I ran a hand through my hair, wishing I could drown out the sounds of Johnny’s screams.
    Come on, Angel, pull it together.
    So I’d broken a couple of fingers. Definitely not the worst thing I’d ever done. Not by a long shot. Johnny would live, after all. Not the case for my first job. I was almost sixteen when Uncle Carlo picked me and Bones up in one of the family’s black SUVs.
    “Your father put out a contract. He wants you to fill it,” my uncle said.
    I’d always known the day would come, but still, it took me by surprise. My first hit. My pulse quickened as I climbed into the passenger’s seat and fumbled with my seat belt. Bones sat behind me, and I could tell he was as nervous as I was.
    Uncle Carlo drove for a while, taking us off the strip and into a run-down residential area off Main Street. He killed the lights and parked beside a chest-high wooden fence.
    “Here?” I asked, studying the area. Several blossoming Palo Verde trees blocked my view of whatever lay on the other side of the fence. It would be difficult to see someone, much less shoot