Page 11 of Mafia Heiress
“No, I didn’t mean it that way, but yeah, kind of. You don’t have that Brooklyn boy attitude.”
“That’s why my mother sent me out here. She wanted that taken care of at an early age. I got in trouble a lot when I was younger and she could sense I needed an outlet. Horses were it.”
Driving through Jersey isn’t like New York. You see the change in landscapes and how it gets quieter the further we go south. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to live in a place like this, where it’s quiet and there’s hardly any crime.
We pull onto a dirt road and travel until an arch hangs over us. It says, “Whispering Willow Ranch’ with a picture of a horse on it. The paddocks start from where the entrance begins, horses turned out, some alone and others with friends.
“This place is gorgeous,” I whisper, my whole body twisted to see out the window.
“It’s become a refuge for me. Somewhere I can go when things are crazy in the city. I’m not like the other men, Jack. I have a full-time job. Working for the FBI isn’t easy, and it cost me a lot to get there.”
“Why did you become a cop? Your family isn’t exactly straight laced. There’s a lot of mixed blood.”
“Because I wanted to make a difference, whether or not my family is involved. I may bend the rules, but I’d never break them. No way I’m killing for the family.”
I appreciate his honesty, but it hurts to hear it. His job and life is the priority. One I don’t see myself stepping into, especially if he’s not willing to break the law for the family. I have one goal and it isn’t to be a law abiding citizen.
The smell of horse and grass hits my nose as soon as we step out of the truck. I inhale deep and close my eyes, pointing my head to the sun. I could live in this moment all day.
“Ready to ride?” he asks, taking my hand and dragging me out of my bliss. I scowl for a second and then remember, I have a horse!
“Yes, I want to get to know her first. And she needs a name. Something sassy, but not cute. A Gambino can’t ride a horse named Daisy.”
He chuckles and pulls me along toward a large open barn. The red siding outside looks brand new, and the walkway between the stalls is swept and tidy.
Several horses poke their heads out of their stalls and take a look at the new people. One horse chuffs loudly when we approach. He’s so black it’s like his skin is ink, not a stitch of white on him. He’s a big boy too, around seventeen hands, something I’d have a lot of trouble commanding.
“This is Death. I’ve raised him since he was a foal, all boney and skinny. Now he’s a monster with a temper. He needs a firm hand and an intelligent rider or he’ll walk all over you, hence the name Death. He’ll drag you to Hell if you let him.”
Death seems to know we’re talking about him because he paws at the ground and shuffles back and forth. He’s beautiful, one of the most impressive horses I’ve ever seen. I reach my hand out slowly and wait for him to come to me.
He gently nudges my palm, nipping at it looking for something to eat. I take a peppermint out of the pocket in my breeches and hold it out to him. He greedily takes it, chopping on the candy.
“You’ll spoil him.”
“That’s the point. I figure all males, regardless of their species, can be bribed with food.”
Marcello’s smile widens and he takes me down a few stalls. My horse is munching quietly on some hay, not paying any one any attention. When she notices our approach she gives us a backward glance, but turns her butt to the opening of the stall.
“She’s happy to see me,” I say, a frown on my face. Not that I was expecting the type of warm welcome a dog would give, but a little interest would have been nice.
“The thing with her is she’ll only give you attention and behave if you make it worth her while. You have to work for her affection. You’re the same, I figured you’d get along.”
I smack him on the chest and he fakes being hurt. A giggle comes from the left and I look over Marcello’s shoulder to see who’s joined us.
“Marcy, how are you?” Marcello asks, the teen girl. Her hair is tied up into a high ponytail and her jeans are sullied with dirt.
“Good as can be, I guess.” Her jovial smile falls as she considers herself. It hurts to watch someone go from smiling to sad in a moment.
“We’ll talk later if you need to. But first I want to get Fire and Death tacked. Jack is her new owner and they should get to know each other.”
“You bought Fire?” A bit of shock comes over her face as she looks between Marcello and I.
“Is something wrong with that?” I ask, cooly. Not that I want to be a bitch, but I will if I’m pressed.
“No, it’s just. Well, she’s lazy as fuck. I didn’t think anyone would want her after the shit she pulled at the open house.”
Marcello bites his lip and gives Marcy a wide eye. Why do I feel like I’m missing something?
