When she made it back home, she was glad for the peace.  But there was an eeriness to the peacefulness that dampened her joy.

She was alone.  Hammer had taken JoJo to Montreal with him that morning, and Rowena, JoJo’s nanny, had gone with him.  She had security all over the grounds, but they were outdoors, and her household staff did not live in.  Amelia was all by herself.

She poured herself a glass of wine, took a couple sips, and then went upstairs to soak in the tub.  She nearly fell asleep twice, but was able to soak and bathe and relax.  And think.  When, she wondered, was she not thinking?

She thought about Jerardo, and his scheming ass.  The idea that he would betray their friendship still annoyed her.  She thought he was one of the good ones.  What did she ever do to him?

She thought about her son, and wondered if he missed her.  She text Rowena throughout the day, and was given hourly updates on how he was doing, but it wasn’t the same.  She couldn’t smell him through a text.  She couldn’t touch him.  She missed her son.

And, too often for her taste, she thought about Hammer.

She leaned her head back in the tub and remembered how it felt to be in Hammer’s arms.  Ladies would have given their right arms to be in her position last night.  She had that gorgeous hunk of man naked and in her bed all night long; a man so confident in his skills that he truly believed his dick could cure all ills, and they didn’t make love.  He kissed her, and a couple times he fondled her breasts and grew hard just from fondling her, but he kept his word.  He knew she’d been through hell earlier that day.  He didn’t want to put it on her too.  He cared about her too deeply.

But that was Hammer, she thought, as she grabbed her glass from the tub’s edge and sipped more wine.  Mister Contradiction if ever there was one.  He was a righteous dude in so many ways, and a world-class thug in so many other ways.  He was a man who built his reputation at CIA on torturing criminals to gain intelligence and skirting the law shamelessly, a law he claimed to admire, to catch the bad guys.  He was despised by both sides, the bad and the good, for his tactics.

But that was Hammer, she thought again, as she finished her bath and got out of the tub.  He had a nasty reputation, and was as gangster as gangster got.  He was so underhanded with his thuggery that she had no clue what shit Hammer was into.  But she was certain it was big.

He owned JazzLight, which was a big deal in and of itself, but that, in her opinion, had to be his cover.  Mainly because he was mega-rich.  He had Mick Sinatra and Reno Gabrini kind of money.  That kind of cash didn’t flow just from owning a couple nightclubs.  That kind of cash only came about undercover, and she didn’t mean the vice cop variety.  Shit she was caught up in undoubtedly paled in comparison to whatever Hammer was doing.

But fuck him, she thought.  She had to stop thinking about that man!

She dried off, put on one of the big dress shirts he often left at her house, grabbed her cellphone, and made her way downstairs.  She had several messages, all from a few of her closest girlfriends, but she wasn’t up to gossiping with them tonight.  Besides, their drama was almost certainly going to be about men.  Men that beat them.  Men that used them.  Men that two-timed them.  Since Amelia had all of that and more wrapped up in her deceased husband, they took her to be an expert on bad dudes.  But her drama was life-and-death shit now that she couldn’t even discuss with them.  And she had her own man trouble on top of it, with one particular man she could never seem to get off of her mind.  She had what she called big time drama.  The last thing she needed tonight was to hear about theirs.

Once downstairs, she made a beeline for the kitchen.  But she had to pass the dining room first.  And as soon as she entered, she stopped in her tracks.  Because she suddenly realized she was no longer alone.  Sitting at her dining-room table, as if they owned the joint, were two very familiar faces.  But it still shocked the shit out of her.

“Mick?” she asked.  “Big Daddy?”

Both men rose to their feet.  She was so thrown, but so happy to see them again that she lost all inhibitions and ran to them.  The best thing that ever happened to her was to find out that these two men were her half-brothers.  It was the first time in her life she had a family to call her own.  And even though it was totally against type for Amelia, she just couldn’t hide how pleased she was to be theirs.

She threw her arms around Mick first, who was arguably the most feared mob boss in America, and who was notoriously cold when it came to outward displays of affection.  But he smiled, and returned her hug.  He seemed to welcome her embrace.

Then she fell into Big Daddy’s arms, her big brother, and remained there.

Charles “Big Daddy” Sinatra closed his eyes as he held Amelia.  He remembered most vividly of all the night of her birth.  She was nearly killed by their sorry-ass father because she came out of the wound a black child, which confirmed his suspicions of their mother’s infidelity.  Charles and Mick had to rescue her from their own father, and their aunt, the woman who would raise Amelia, had to whisk her away.  It was a traumatic way to enter the world, but that was how Amelia entered it.  He and Mick had never heard from her again after that night.  Until fate, so many years later, brought them back together.

When they stopped embracing, Amelia had to fight back tears.  Whenever she felt especially alone in this world, or lost as their aunt had called her when naming her, she thought about those two big lugs.  She was connected to them by blood, and that was an awesome feeling for an outcast like her.  One day she was going to find her father, and connect to the African side of her roots too, the side she most identified with.  But at least, right now, she had somebody.  Before they came into her life she believed she could fall off the face of the earth, and nobody would notice.

“So tell me what’s up,” she said.  “I see the front gate allows you two entry onto the property and don’t even bother to so much as give me a buzz, the property owner, to let me know you have arrived.  Now that’s either outsized respect, or outsized fear.  My money’s on fear.”

They laughed.

“You aren’t happy to see us?” Big Daddy asked.

“I am,” she said.  “I’m thrilled to see you, don’t get me wrong.  But I have to ask.  What in the world brings you two to Baltimore?”

“You bring us here,” Big Daddy responded.  “Can’t we come and see about our baby sister?”

“Said Mick Sinatra never!” Amelia added, and Big Daddy laughed.  Mick even smiled.

“Have a seat,” she offered cheerfully.  “You guys want something to eat or drink, or both?”

“No, we’re okay,” Big Daddy said as they sat back down at her table.  “You’re the one who needs to eat.  You’ve lost a pound or two.”

“Or three,” Mick said, looking down at her slender body.

“It’s been a little hectic around here,” Amelia admitted as she sat in the chair across from her brothers.  “But I’m good.”

As Mick and Charles sat at her table, both looking striking, she thought, in Ralph Laurent polo shirt and jeans for Big Daddy, and a tailored suit for Mick, Amelia was touched by their presence.  They were both very busy men, with major corporations to run.  The idea that they would drop everything and come see about her was something she didn’t know if she could ever get used to.  Especially the fact that Mick came.  He rarely came around.  It just wasn’t his style.  But he came this time.

Which made her certain: Hammer had called him.

“How’s everybody doing?” she asked.

“Everybody’s good,” said Big Daddy.  “Raising hell like you wouldn’t believe,” he added with a smile, “but they’re good.”

Amelia smiled, too.  She loved that man!  Although Mick was younger than Charles, and everybody called Charles Big Daddy, it was Mick who seemed more like a father to Amelia.  He was so domineering like a father, and always had so many damned questions about what she was up to.  But Charles, and his warmth, whenever he came around Amelia, just had love.

Big Daddy looked at Amelia.  His family might have been just fine, but that wasn’t why he was there.  “What about you?” he asked her.  “How’s everything going with you?”

She nodded her head.  Tried to stay upbeat.  “Everything’s going great,” she said.

Both of her brothers looked at her with that doubtful Sinatra look that made even Amelia know they weren’t buying it.  They were there for a reason, and the reason was not because everything was going “great.”

She looked at Mick.  “Hammer called you.  Didn’t he?”

Mick, never a man to mince words, nodded his head.  “Yes.”

“I don’t know what he told you, but I’m fine.”

“He was worried about you,” Mick said.  “Or do you take it as more than that?”

“I take it as Hammer getting his nosy-ass all up in my business.”  She hated that Hammer had involved her brothers.  She was still brand new to that family.  She didn’t want them to have to worry about her, or, more to the point, feel as if she was a burden too.  They had enough on their plates!

“You may take it that way, Amelia,” Big Daddy said, “but I take it as a very concerned man who felt you may need some help.”

“And if I ever need help, which I don’t; but if I ever do, he can help me.”

“He would love to,” Big Daddy said, “but you won’t tell him what he needs to know.  He thought we might have a little more success in that department.”

“I wish he would not have phoned.  I got this.  I’m good.”

“Fuck that shit!” Mick said in his usual explosive temper.  “You were nearly killed.  Forgive me if I missed the memo, but what about being nearly killed is good?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t have some situations I was dealing with.  I said I got it.  I can handle it.”

“What happened on Potomac?” Mick asked.

Amelia should have known Hammer would not have phoned them without telling them at least that much, so she cut the bull and leaned forward.  “There was an ambush, alright?  But it’s being handled.”

“It wasn’t just an ambush.  There was as kidnapping too.”

Amelia hesitated.  “That’s right,” she said.

Big Daddy exhaled.  Both brothers looked concerned.

 “Who was behind it?” Mick asked.

“Some scum named Jerardo Jovanni.”

Mick frowned.  “Who the fuck is that?  I never heard of him.”

“You wouldn’t have.  He’s not in your league.  Nowhere near it.  But he used to be a friend of mine.”

“And a lover?” Mick asked.

Big Daddy frowned.  “What is that our business?” he asked.

“Because it denotes betrayal,” Mick said.  “And betrayal puts a sharper focus on the affront.”

“English, please, Mick,” Big Daddy said.  “I speak English over here.”

“For a man to betray his lover by ambushing and kidnapping her suggests either revenge, or that he has some serious juice behind his actions.  Somebody forced his hand, or paid his ass in gold.”

Amelia looked at Mick.  He knew the game as if he invented it.

“Which is it?” Mick asked her.

“Somebody forced his hand,” she said.  “He owed a debt.  To repay it, he was told to do what he did.”

“What was to be the end result had Hammer not rescued you?” Big Daddy asked.  “Did they plan to let you go?”

“Not bloody likely!” Mick responded.

“No,” said Amelia.  “If Hammer would not have been able to find me, there would have been no letting me go.”

A depressed look appeared in Big Daddy’s big eyes.  “I hate that Mick is involved in all of that gangster shit,” he said.  “But he’s been doing it for so long, that I’m used to that lifestyle for him.  I really, really hate that you’re getting involved in that shit, too, Amelia.”

“But that’s the question, isn’t it?” Mick asked her.  “Just what shit are you involved in, Amelia?”

And that question was why Amelia could never tell Mick what Jerardo told her.  Leo Tamberelli was the king of the dope world.  If she were to tell Mick that Leo T was after her territory, and had already seized a huge chunk of it, he would automatically know just what shit she was into.  And he would automatically beat her ass.  He’d already warned her; he’d already given her clear orders to leave that shit alone.  He thought she had given it up.  She convinced him that she had.  But she never did.

“Gangsters want good wine for their various establishments,” she said, “but the regulatory boards make them jump through too many hoops, and the Feds keep them limited.  So they come to me to get all the fine wine they need at rock bottom rates, and to get it well out of the eyes of the prying public.”

“They used to have a name for gals like you,” Big Daddy said.

Amelia looked at him.  “And what name is that?”

“Bootlegger,” Big Daddy responded, and Amelia laughed.  She glanced at Mick.  She could tell he knew she wasn’t giving him the full story, and it angered him.

He stood up.  She and Big Daddy might have been sharing a joke, but it was no laughing matter to Mick.  He knew how dangerous that road was she chose to travel.  He walked around the table, and stood next to her chair.

Amelia’s heart was pounding nervously by the time Mick made his way by her side.  She looked up at him.

“Answer my question,” he said to her.

Amelia felt intimidated by her older brother, she always had, but that didn’t mean she was just going to sit there and take his shit.  She stood to her feet.  They were toe to toe.  “I answered your question,” she said.

Mick had one sleepy eye, and it looked particularly drooped as if he was bone tired, but he still was determined to confront her.  “You answered a question,” he said, “but not the one I asked you.”

Amelia looked perplexed.  Why didn’t he just let it be?  “What difference does it make, Mick?” she asked him.  “You’re into your shit.  I’m into mine.  What difference does it fucking make?”

“Those drugs you’re trafficking in destroys people’s lives,” Mick reminded her.

“Then people shouldn’t do them,” she reminded Mick.  “Nobody’s got a gun to their heads.  And speaking of guns,” Amelia added, “what kind of destruction are those guns doing to people’s lives?  Since you’re the king of the gunrunning trade and all.”

“Okay, you two,” Big Daddy said.  He could sense both of their temperatures rising.  “Knock it off.”

But Mick wasn’t done yet.  “You said you were going to leave those drugs alone,” he said to Amelia.  “You made a promise to me.”

“I have a business, Mick.  Same as you.  I’m handling my business!  You have to respect that.”

“I don’t have to respect a gotdamn thing!” he shot back.  “Especially when you told me you were getting out of that game.  Drug dealers are the worse of the worse, Amelia.  Why would you want to be a part of that shit?”

“Same reason you’re a part of your shit.”

“Stop comparing your ass to me!” Mick yelled.  “There’s no fucking comparison!”

“Whether you like it or not,” Amelia said, “this is what I do.  And you have to respect that I can handle what I do.  Hammer at least respects that I can handle it.”

“Hammer respects it because Hammer wants to fuck your ass!”

Amelia couldn’t believe Mick had gone there.  And it hurt her to her heart.  She opened her hand and slapped him violently across his face.

Big Daddy jumped to his feet when Amelia slapped Mick.  He knew the temper Mick had.  They didn’t call him Mick the Tick, as in ticking time bomb, for nothing!

But Mick had already blown his cool.  He grabbed Amelia’s shirt so violently, and jacked it up so high, that her naked ass was showing.  And then he leaned back, with his massive hand wide open, ready to slap the shit out of her.  He didn’t take shit from anybody.  He wasn’t taking it from Amelia either.

Big Daddy was just behind Mick, ready to grab his hand, but he didn’t grab it.  Because Mick was right.  He agreed with Mick.  Amelia was going to get herself killed if she didn’t leave those drugs alone.  She needed to understand the gravity.

Besides, Big Daddy didn’t believe for a second that Mick would hit his kid sister.

Big Daddy was right.  Mick remained poised to hit her, and Amelia braced herself for the impact, but he backed down.  Not because he suddenly agreed with her.  But because he saw the hurt in her eyes.  His words, that Hammer Reese only wanted her for her body, had hurt her deeper than any slap ever would.  And he felt like a shit for causing her that kind of pain.

He put his hand down, and released her shirt from his grasp.

Amelia was shaken.  Not because Mick had almost beat the crap out of her.  But because she revealed how much she loved, and depended on Hammer.  She wanted to convince them that she could handle the dope trade, when she couldn’t even handle her heart.

“Excuse me,” she said as she fought back tears, and then hurried away.  She hurried back upstairs.

Mick was angry with himself for taking it to that level.  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, and then began pacing the floor.  He loved Amelia.  The last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt her.  But that was exactly what he had done.

When Mick paced back toward Big Daddy, he stopped in front of his big brother as if he needed comforting too.  Big Daddy squeezed Mick’s arm; he knew Mick was sorry it had gone this far.  But then he left Mick’s side and went upstairs: to Amelia.