Wild Horses

Married to the mob

A mechanic showed up to fix the flat tire. Bucciarati washed his hands in a beach bathroom, looking at his face in the mirror and wondering how he got to be this person who uses zippers for torture. He used a payphone to call Pericolo and give him the information he'd extracted about Steve Stromboli and the Garden Olive Pub. When he returned to the car, a surge of panic coursed through him as he realized that Lira wasn't there. He frantically looked around the parking lot before her voice chimed behind him, "Hey, you alright?"

"Where were you?" he asked, clearly worried like a mom or something.

"Rinsing off in the beach shower. I told you, I felt dirty," she shrugged and rubbed her arms. "And it's kind of weird to just sit in the car while someone fixes the tire."

He looked at her for a few seconds. "Can I touch you now?" he hesitantly asked.

"Yea."

He grabbed her hand as he looked into her eyes. "Uhh is that all?" she asked. Bucciarati wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back, leaning on him so that his back was pressed against a car.

"You don't think I'm trash?" he asked as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

"Mm," she grunted. "Should I?"

He chuckled, "Yes."

"You may be a homicidal gangster with a talent for torture, but I know you're a good person," Lira said and tightened the hug. "You have your own convictions. You take care of Fugo and the guys, you saw something good in them when no one else did. You're not selling heroin to kids, you looked after my mom... should I keep going?"

"My ego is going to explode if it gets any bigger, cara," Bucciarati said and kissed the side of her head. Lira let go and stepped away. The subtle, disgusted look on her face hurt Bucciarati briefly before she spoke up.

"Hold on, did you wash your lips? You still need mouthwash after licking that guy's face, Bucciarati," she said, half-teasing but half-serious. He scoffed. That was all? She kept defying his expectations - surprising him, even.

"Why don't we go enjoy the ocean while the mechanic finishes his job?" Bucciarati suggested before leading her to the beach. Bucciarati handed an umbrella vendor some cash to rent an umbrella and lounge chairs. He took his jacket off and hung it on his chair. They lounged peacefully, watching the ocean waves and tourists walk by. Lira stole glances at Bucciarati's chest tattoos. It gave her butterflies to think that she designed it, that he liked it so much he had it tattooed on him so he could wear it forever.

"Like what you see?" he teased her.

She scoffed. "I can't believe you got that tattooed on you."

Bucciarati simply smirked. He unzipped his torso and pulled a small velvet box out of his chest. He then reached over and handed it to her. "Pericolo thought it would be nice if you had this," he said nonchalantly.

Lira took the box and opened it. Inside was a dainty gold ring with a small Passione symbol on it. "Whoa," was all Lira could say as she looked at it.

"Pericolo wanted to make you an honorary member if we pulled this job off. Which still isn't the same as an actual member, but essentially it means you work for us."

"What if I don't want to work for Passione?" Lira asked, still gawking at the ring. Bucciarati sat up and looked at her sternly.

"Don't even entertain that idea, tesoro," Bucciarati said with a hint of panic. "It's not an option." He took the ring from the box and held her hand before gently sliding it on. Lira's face exploded in embarrassment as she looked from the new ring on her hand to Bucciarati's face. She turned her gaze to the ocean as she started to blush. "Bruno," she whispered, "that's, uh, I mean," she gulped, "it's like we're married or something, haaa," she nervously chuckled.