Page 47 of Mafioso's Muse

‘Little Bourke.’

‘How much?’

Antonio swallowed. ‘$200,000—cash.’

‘For fuck’s sake…’ Vaughn met Finn’s questioning stare in the rear-view mirror. ‘Head to Little Bourke.’ He put his brother on speaker so he could track his location, then sent the address to Finn’s phone. ‘We’re fifteen minutes away. Do not move from that—’ The call ended before he could finish his sentence. ‘Shit.’

Finn accelerated. ‘How bad is it?’

‘$200K bad.’

‘Can you get that amount?’

Vaughn pressed his thumb into his forehead. ‘Not in the next ten minutes.’ He tried calling his brother back, but it went straight to voicemail. ‘Phone’s off.’

Finn muttered a few curse words that perfectly summed up Vaughn’s feelings also. They all had their vices, but Antonio’s unlawful gambling was the family’s most fickle demon. Just when they thought it was contained, they got a call like that one.

Ten minutes later, they turned onto Little Bourke Street. Vaughn checked Antonio’s last known location before his phone had been switched off. ‘Take a left up here.’

The car pulled into an alleyway, and Finn navigated his way around the dumpsters, stopping when they could go no further. Vaughn was out of the car and jogging towards the restaurant before the ignition had even been turned off. Finn followed a moment later.

As they rounded the corner, they came upon four silhouettes standing around what appeared to be a person on his knees. Vaughn’s eyes were adjusting to the poorly lit alleyway. Narrowing his gaze on the slumped figure in the middle, he saw that it was his brother—bloodied and barely conscious.

One of the men swung a foot at Antonio, connecting with his side.

‘Hey!’ Vaughn shouted, proceeding forwards.

Startled, the men looked in his direction, sizing up the new arrivals. This gave Vaughn and Finn the precious seconds they needed to act. The pair charged forwards, hands balled into fists. Vaughn went straight for the largest one, knuckles connecting with his jaw before the man could even get his hands up. The blow sent the man reeling backwards, but the victory was short-lived. Vaughn was tackled to the ground a beat later, just managing to keep his head from smashing into the concrete. Then another came at him, the toe of his shoe striking Vaughn’s ribs—hard. As he gasped for air, the mafioso used the man atop him as a shield to block the next kick, then shoved him off. While getting to his feet, he copped an uppercut that had him seeing stars. He managed to stay upright. Finn knocked one of the men flat on his back, but he didn’t stay down for long.

With Antonio in no condition to fight, Vaughn struggled to see how they were going to exit the altercation. But he didn’t let that thought stop him from trying.

‘Vaughn,’ Antonio groaned from a few feet away.

‘A little busy here,’ Vaughn said through gritted teeth. He ducked to avoid a second punch to the face.

The first man he’d hit pulled a knife as he stepped up to Vaughn. That changed the game considerably. Vaughn leapt backwards as the blade passed a few centimetres from his face, never taking his eyes off the weapon. ‘Four against two, andyoubring a knife to the party?’

The man spat blood onto the pavement before lunging at him again. Finn tried to come to his aid but was yanked backwards by his shirt. Buttons flew in all directions.

A deafening bang brought the chaos to a standstill.

The knife fell to the ground with a clatter, and that was when Vaughn noticed a dark stain spreading on his attacker’s side. The man dropped to his knees, hands going over the wound in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. It seeped between his fingers.

Vaughn looked at Finn, whose hands were empty, then at his brother. Antonio was propped up on one elbow, a gun in his right hand. His aim drifted between the remaining three men. They stood with shock frozen on their faces, watching their companion bleed out on the concrete.

‘You need to get out of here,’ Antonio said to Vaughn. ‘Now.’ When one of his attackers went to move, Antonio swung the gun in his direction and shouted, ‘Back up!’

The man stilled and raised his hands.

Vaughn crouched to check for a pulse. Nothing. Straightening, he looked down at his blood-splattered shirt, mind racing. All of the possible consequences and retaliations swirled chaotically in his head. The distant sound of a siren signalled that it was time to go.

‘We need to leave,’ Finn announced.

Vaughn went over to Antonio.

‘Just go!’ Antonio shouted.

Vaughn snatched the gun from his hand and flicked the safety before tossing it to Finn, who tucked it into his trousers.