A Two Twirl Christmas – Eagle Elite Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Novella, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 6
Estimated words: 6007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 30(@200wpm)___ 24(@250wpm)___ 20(@300wpm)

For fans of the Eagle Elite, #1 bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken brings you the heartwarming short, A Two Twirl Christmas.

For the first time, Sergio, made man of the Abandonato Family, faces the demons of his past with the help of his cousins.
The mafia cries for no one.
It justifies everything.
But this Christmas, it will honor one of its own.
Fallen mafia princess, Andi Petrov Abandonato.
And the patriarchs of the Cosa Nostra will give her two more twirls under the snow.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



Tears burned the back of my eyes when I finally glanced at the field. It took me around forty minutes to finally make my way outside on Christmas evening and another two hours to finally walk my way around the massive house and look up at the night sky.

So many stars and I had to wonder if she was up there somehow looking down at all of us.

I’d be doing her a favor by killing her. The words tasted so bitter and hateful in my mouth that I felt like shit all over again.

“Everyone is afraid of dying. The hardest part is never admitting we’re mortal but coming to terms with the fact that we have no control over how long we’re given. You. Do.”

“No… I don’t. You’re trying to take that control.”

“Say the word.” My hand moved to the Glock strapped to my thigh.

“I’m not afraid.” Her lips trembled. “At least not of death… but I am afraid of something.”

“Oh yeah?” I hissed. “What’s that?”


Confused, I stepped back, immediately looking for a weapon. “I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I remembered that day like it was yesterday, sitting by the fire, thinking about death, wondering what the whole point was about this life, literally feeling the itching from the tally mark tattoo scarring on my ribs, and wondering if she would just be one more.

And she would.

Just not in the way I thought.

I squeeze my eyes closed.

A hand clasped hard on my shoulder. “It will never get easier.”

“That was a horrible pep talk,” I muttered, knowing immediately it was Chase that had chosen to come out with me.

“He sucks at them.” Phoenix’s voice came next. “But at least he’s here and not upstairs with—“

“—Kids? Because they’re driving me insane.” Chase laughed. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Never.” Tex joined in.

How many of them had come out for this moment? For this celebration? I’d always done it by myself. I guess they realized it was ten years since she’d left us.

Left me.

I’d thought I was so old at the time, but I’d been an idiot, so young, so stupid, so ridiculously arrogant about the ways of this life and this world. And she’d seen it so clearly that even to this day, it’s almost embarrassing, maybe because she had so much pain that she recognized it in others. She knew I was a boy trying to be a man—but that’s what she did to me… she made me a man.

I’d like to think she made me a good husband and a good father, even though I might actually murder my future son-in-laws one day if they talk shit to me. And yet, I’m stupidly smiling at the fact that my little girls will get their happily ever after, one that took me at least one try to get right, not because I chose wrong but because the universe had something different in store.

And sometimes. Sometimes it’s important to remember that life isn’t fair, and we shouldn’t expect it to be.

When life fails you, the temptation is always to fight first, and then once the fight leaves, you want to give up because you’ve spent so long fighting and trying to look strong to everyone else, yourself included. You look in the mirror, and you say: I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.

And all it fucking takes is one person who you know truly cares to walk up to you and ask, “Hey man, you doin’ good? You okay?”

To mentally and spiritually break. Sometimes the reaction is anger out of the desperation you feel, and other times you just lose it because you’re at your breaking point and you can’t lie to yourself or others anymore. It’s when your throat gets clogged, your chest starts to pound and tighten all at once, and tears burn the back of your eyes, but the more you try to hold it in, the worse it gets over and over and over again, like a sickness taking hold, it consumes you to the point of feeling like you may never come back from it.

But your body needs it. It needs a cleansing. It needs something that’s going to tell it that it’s okay to grieve.

It’s okay to let go.

Let. It. Go.

The guys next to me were those guys.

My wife was that woman.

My family saved me from losing myself to that grief.

And the sky, the sunrise—well, that was Andi the entire time, wasn’t it? Helping me day in and day out when the dark clouds poured.

“It’s supposed to snow,” Nixon’s voice chimed in.

“You sure?” Dante asked, approaching. I can hear his footsteps crunching; his voice is more distant.

“Doubtful,” Andrei said, his voice low. “There aren’t enough clouds.”

“Stars,” I answered thoughtfully. “There are stars.”

Everyone was silent.

“You didn’t have to all come, you know,” I whispered. “I know it’s close to the anniversary, and I always promised her I would—“