A Loaded Gun

Chapter 42

Brooke POV

2 months later

Life had kind of evened out. I was back in school and my friends had accepted the simple story that Molly had gotten caught in the crossfire of a shootout due to her father's shady business. 

I told them that I only knew about it due to my brothers' connections.

Wanda was right; about two weeks after the second kidnapping, I had burst into tears in the middle of physics, right as the teacher was blabbing about pendulums. 

That had been a fun day. Luckily, all my emotions were out, and I could express them in a healthy way now.

Still, school was exhausting. And Lucas being endlessly cheerful didn't help.

"It's Christmas!" yelled Lucas as soon as I walked through the front door after a particularly brutal day at school.

"It's only December 1st," I groaned, dropping my backpack. I was two seconds away from crying after an hour and a half of precal and logarithms.

"My Brookie is sad! Luckily I made brookies!" Lucas seemed determined to be cheerful.

I frowned. "What the hell are brookies?"

His jaw dropped and he let out an exaggerated gasp. "TO THE KITCHEN!"

Grabbing my arm, he dragged me to the kitchen, the smell of fresh baked food making me sigh in delight.

On top of the stove was a large, deep pan, with what looked like brownie batter swirled around a layer of chocolate chip cookie.

He eagerly cut a piece and held it out to me. I studied it, the warm gooey chocolate chips melding with the golden cookies and rich brownie.

Shrugging, I took a bite, and my eyes bulged. Holy crap, this was amazing! I chewed slowly, taking my time with the explosion of flavor my tongue was experiencing.

I turned to him. "You made this?" I asked, incredulous. My big tough mafia brother made fresh baked goods?

He smiled and looked down, scuffing his foot against the tile. 

"It was our Christmas tradition. You insisted on brookies when you were 2, because they were named after you. After you left, we kept making them every year. It was our way of keeping you in our tradition."

My heart melted faster than the warm chocolate chips. I couldn't believe how sweet my brothers were.

Grinning, I threw my arms around Lucas, feeling all warm and fuzzy.

"Thank you Lucas," I choked out. I wanted to cry, he was so sweet.

He ruffled my hair, smiling softly. "I know it's only December 1st, but Christmas is big around here. Come on, we're making white chocolate peppermint bars."

His tone allowed no argument, and I didn't give any, just followed his lead in baking.

Four hours later, we had made white chocolate peppermint bars, thumbprint jam cookies, sugar cookie bars with Christmas themed sprinkles, Reese's chocolate chip cookies, and gingerbread men.

The swing of the front door interrupted my hysterical giggles at Lucas's flour-covered face.

"Not funny, Brooke! It looks like I shoved my face in a pile of cocaine!"

"Who's doing cocaine?" Marcus's voice boomed in the kitchen, his jaw dropping as he looked around.

Glancing around, I understood his shock; sugar granules and chocolate chips were scattered on the counter, a stray egg yolk had fallen on the floor, and plates of dessert covered every surface.

I couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up as Lucas froze, grinning sheepishly at Marcus's comical distress.

A few minutes later I gasped for breath, the giddiness wearing off. I looked up to see both of them staring at me in contented amusement.

"I'll clean this up," I said, still grinning.

"Good idea," said Marcus wryly. "Lucas can help."

"What?! This mess was all Brooke! I didn't do anything!" Lucas attempted to get out of cleaning, unsuccessfully it seemed, based on Marcus's firm expression.

Still chuckling, I wiped down counters and swept up crumbs while Lucas boxed up the treats we had made, earning a scolding from me when he snuck a piece of each.

"Save some for me, Lucas," I whined playfully as he swiped a bit of frosting from a sugar cookie bar. He smirked and bopped my nose, leaving a dollop of light green frosting behind.

I glared at him and stuck my tongue out, reaching my nose and licking the dab of frosting off of it.

His jaw dropped. "You can touch your nose with your tongue?"

He immediately tried to do it himself, only reaching his nostrils before giving up.

I laughed. "Guess I'm just special," I shrugged, scrubbing a stubborn spot on the counter.

"So Brooke," Marcus said later at dinner that night. "What do you want for Christmas?"

I frowned, having not thought of that at all. Crap, I needed to get them gifts. "I don't know. It's been a while since I thought about gifts,"

I regretted the words as they left my mouth when I watched them collectively wince. Lucas broke the awkward silence by leaning forward and speaking abruptly. "Well, I personally want–"

"Yeah, we don't give a damn what you want. This year is about Brooke," interrupted Daniel. I fought back a laugh at Lucas's wounded expression.

"Well it's nice to know where your priorities lie," he huffed, crossing his arms but breaking his pout by shooting a grin at me. "But I completely agree."

I smiled at him, feeling awkward with the touchy feely emotions flying around the room. I hated asking for things.

"Going along with this line of thinking, what do you all want for Christmas?" I asked curiously.

"The only thing we wanted was you, and we got that," Lucas said softly. I almost cried, honestly.

"Oh Brooke, that reminds me. Come to my office after dinner, I have something to give you," Marcus said.

I nodded, hiding the questions swirling around in my brain. Was it good or bad? Did I mess up? I didn't do anything in school.

"It's nothing bad, I promise," he said, observing my wide eyes. I nodded sheepishly, embarrassed that he could read me so easily.

After finishing off the last of the sugar cookie bars as dessert, Lucas, Daniel, and Michael went their separate ways while I followed Marcus to his office.

After digging around in his desk drawer for a minute, he straightened, holding something in his hand.

"Here," he said abruptly. I carefully took the piece of plastic from him, observing the matte black finish against shiny silver numbers and...my name?

I stared up at him in wonder. "Is this...a credit card? For me?" I couldn't believe it.

He nodded, his face imperceptible. "No limit, and no matter how much you spend, it won't even come close to breaking the bank."

"I...Marcus, I could just get a job. Seriously, this isn't necessary."

His eyes softened. "You're an Amoretti, you don't need to work. Seriously, I could quit our legal businesses right now and every single one of us could retire as billionaires. I know how much you want to get us gifts, so go wild. Just make sure to spend a little on yourself."

I smiled, clutching the credit card against my chest. I had never had more than $50 in my possession at a time, so this was unbelievable.

"Thank you Marcus," I choked out, already running gift ideas through my mind.

He smiled and shooed me away, turning toward some papers.