Complete Corruption (Corruption #1-3) (35 page)

“I aimed over your head,” Paulie said. “I was trying to get your attention.”

“You were always impulsive. Always reckless.” He grinned and looked at his shoes for a millisecond.

I’d enjoyed and feared his impulsiveness at the same time. He’d been valuable, but I’d so often had to smooth over an overzealous shakedown or unnecessary insult that, in the end, I stopped letting him manage politicians by himself.

He still needed me. But I didn’t need him, and that scared him. He wasn’t breaking with me because of his ambition; I had to remember that. This break wasn’t about money, and it wasn’t about power. It was about fear.

“I wanted to tell you something. It’s gonna hurt, Spin. Gotta admit.”

“About?”

“This thing we have—”

“You," I said. "This is your grudge.”

He admitted nothing. He’d already said everything he was going to say the night he burned the shop. He wouldn’t tolerate me with a woman so deep in the establishment’s pockets. He would never trust her. He would never trust me. I had to choose between him and Theresa. I tried to understand why he’d make such an ultimatum but came up empty-handed.

“You heard about the Sicilian virgin’s fiancé?”

“
Stupido
?” I said.

“Nice Neapolitan kid. But yeah, a little dumb. He and his girlfriend just washed up in Malibu. You know why? He refused to marry a nice Sicilian virgin because he already had a girlfriend.
Stupido
is right. Made enemies on two continents.

“And?” I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Theresa.

“Numbers Niccolò. Our accountant. He’s mine. I’m the future of this side of town. You know why?”

“Is that what you shot at me for? The accountant?”

“Niccolò’s playing the odds. I got the bloodline for the virgin. She’s mine now that
stupido
is dead.” Paulie glanced up. The helicopters had gotten closer. “I know you’re there, Princess,” he called out. He jumped from the hood of the car to the uneven ground of the alley. “Don’t get too comfortable. This asshole’s shit’s gonna be mine in a few months.” He got too close. Not to me, but to her.

Something took over me. It was the old Tonio-botz, the man who wasn’t much more than muscle, bone, and rage. Even if Antonio was a thoughtful man, Tonio moved quickly because he didn’t think.

Paulie had never seen that side of me. He didn’t know how swiftly I’d react to him addressing Theresa, even if there was a wall between them. He didn’t know I didn’t give a shit about his restraint, and he didn’t have his guard up when I grabbed the front of his shirt. The defense came up, but it wasn’t fast enough.

I heard the
thunk
of his head on the brick wall. When he tried to push away, I leaned all my weight on him.

“Don’t talk to her, Paulie. Not a word to her.”

It was too late. She came out from behind the wall and leaned in the doorframe with her arms crossed.

theresa

ad I gone through my adult life without once thinking I was going to die? Had I never been threatened? Never almost been in a car wreck? Had I never been in the wrong place at the wrong time?

When Antonio threw himself on top of me, while his chest rose and fell as the gunshots broke the windows, I knew I’d never tasted life as closely as I had with that man. The blood rushing between my legs, the juice collecting there, every point of light in my life dropping to that point was painful in its speed and intensity. I thought I’d explode from the desire for his cock before a bullet could even touch me.

Then it stopped, and all I could think about was his mouth and his neck and his sweat, scented with worry and adrenaline. I knew we were in grave danger, and I’d follow him through it. I’d follow him anywhere.

I’d followed him through the store, my ears dulled from the shots, while outside, Paulie waited with his threats and talk of the virgin, the wedding, and a poor, stupid boy sold into a marriage he didn’t want and who was killed along with the woman he loved.

Even after that, when Antonio pushed himself against Paulie, close as a lover and angry as a pit bull with the stink of savage rage coming off him, I didn’t panic because I didn’t need to. All my passion, rage, panic, and arousal stayed tightly confined behind a hard black shell.

Antonio and Paulie were evenly matched, physically, but my Antonio was stronger in his fearsomeness and clarity of purpose. He would never back down, not until he stood over his enemy in victory. His determination was clenched in his jaw and held fast in his fists.

Leaning in the doorframe with my arms crossed, I saw the meaner man take advantage of the weaker one and the force of their bodies against each other, the intensity of Antonio’s face, the force of his arms, and I wanted those tight lips and that rigid cock between my legs.

“Antonio,” I said.

“Get inside,” he growled, his fingers resting on Paulie’s cheek and tensing, tensing, until a shadow of a divot appeared in the skin. Their bodies were so close they could have been one person.

“This what you like, Princess?” Paulie grunted. “You like a thug? You think you can make him into a gentleman?”

Antonio pulled his gun out and leaned it against Paulie’s head. “I should kill you for what you did already.”

As if knowing where his bread was buttered, Paulie relaxed his body and kept his eyes on me. “Theresa, you see what he is? Go back to your lawyer. It’s safer.”

“Contessa. In
side
.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. He was going to shoot him. It was clear as day.

Antonio leaned his elbows on Paulie and chambered a bullet. “This is for the good of everyone,” he said.

“After what we been through, it comes to this? You’re going to shoot me for a woman? I killed for you, man. I stuck a dead dick down a dead throat for you.”

“Antonio. Don’t.” I was whispering, but I knew he heard me. At least, his ears heard me. There was nothing less than murder in his eyes. “Please.”

“I wish I coulda tasted that magic pussy, Princess,” Paulie said. “Must be something.”

“Inside, Contessa. Don’t make me say it again.”

I stepped back into the doorway, into the shadows, shaking my head and mouthing the words
don’t do it don’t do it…

“Pray, Paulo,” Antonio said. “Say it with me.
Ave Maria, piena di grazia
.”

I could still see them in the slit of light between the jambs. Paulie cringed. “The Lord is with thee.”

Antonio stepped back and aimed the gun.

“Tu sei benedetta fra le donne.”

“And blessed is—” Paulie’s voice hitched, and he continued. “The fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” He leaned into the wall, but sagged, eyes shut tight.

“Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, prega per noi peccatori.”

“Now and… now and…”

I stepped into the sunlight, softly. Antonio had moved backward, to the Ferrari. He leaned in the window and quietly removed the gun, his own weapon still trained on his partner.

“Finish, Paulie.”

“At the hour of our death.”

Paulie opened his eyes.

“
Amen
.” Antonio pulled the trigger. A spray of brick dust flew out of the wall above Paulie’s head, dredging his hair, and he barked a sound that was neither consonant nor vowel but a mingling of both.

Or maybe I made that sound.

“See?” Antonio said. “I shot over your head.”

Antonio grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out of building. The last I saw was Paulie stumbling back as if he couldn’t believe he was alive.

Antonio practically threw me into the Mas, taking off before the helicopter got over us. I had my hands over my mouth to stifle all the emotion that wanted to spill out.

“Contessa,” He rolled the top up and drove slowly and legally. “What?”

“He’s right,” I choked out. “If something happens to you, it’s my fault.”

He pulled over, slammed the car into park and took my wrists in his fingers. “Listen to me.”

I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anything. It was all too big. Too overwhelming. He was ready to shoot his best friend, right there, for me.

He pushed into me until all I could see was his face, his hands cupping my cheeks in my peripheral vision. I inhaled his smell of burned forests and charred cities, his voice of salted caramel. He was my world, right then, and my heart rate slowed.

“Listen. To. Me.” He took a deep breath, and I felt it and mimicked what he did, calming myself by tuning my body to his. “I am responsible for the years of my life,” he said. “Nothing you do will change them. This position I’m in is my own. And now, you’re in it. We can talk about that later. But now, do you hear the sirens?”

I listened. Nodded.

“The shop is almost a kilometer away. We have only a minute to leave or we’re going to be found here.”

“We didn’t do anything. We were just standing—”

“If I’m here, there are questions. If I’m not, there are layers of paperwork between those shots and the owner of the building.”

The
thup-thup-thup
of helicopters was a few blocks away, over the store. Paulie would have left the scene, and we were just two people in a parked car, but we couldn’t ignore the impending descent of the law.

I took a long blink. The crisis was over, and there were only three things left: Antonio. Me. And God.

Could I keep two realities in my head at the same time? Could I believe he was good and sound, even though I knew he committed murder while he was with me? I feared it would become too much, some day. The struggle would eat my soul until all that was left of me would be my body, the physical manifestation of ache, need, and desire.

theresa

 knew there would be ramifications to Paulie’s near-death experience. I’d have to deal with all of it, and yes, I was going to have to deal with my responsibility in his current state of affairs. I breathed once, twice, and I put my fear, arousal, and self-loathing behind a thick shell of ice and control. I knew it swirled underneath, an ever-growing, self-propagating ball of hysteria.

The size and power of that ball terrified me. Once we were in the car, I hardened the shell around it. Blinked. Breathed. Swallowed. Became myself.

Antonio drove like a model citizen. The police sirens died out; the
thup
of the helicopter faded away. I could tell he was trying to be calm and to breathe evenly. Eventually, his grip on the wheel loosened, and he leaned his head back on the seat.

“Will they find us?” I said. “Or Paulie? Or anything?”

“The building is owned by an offshore trust.” He took a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and poked one between his lips. “The police will find nothing. The insurance company will get a bill.” He offered me the pack, and I declined. He pocketed it and pulled out his silver lighter. “Case closed.” He lit his cigarette and snapped the lighter shut with a
clack
.

Antonio drove. Smoked. I wondered if this would be our new small talk. Instead of the weather or the financial markets, would we share a quick description of police activity and the traceability of ownership?

Since the Mas had been parked in the back, no one would know it had anything to do with the shooting. If they did know, they expected it there. The possibility that everyone in the neighborhood kept silent for their own protection occurred to me.

Antonio coiled like a spring, pushing on the steering wheel, even as he drove like the sanest, soberest man alive.

“I am going to fucking kill him.” He slammed the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. “What did he think he was doing? Son of a whore. He could have killed you.”

“I’m fine.”

He put his hand on my cheek. His touch lit my skin in a crackle of firing nerve endings. “I’ll rip him apart if anything happens to you. If he scratches you, I’ll drive a knife into his heart. Do you hear me? He’ll be dead before he hits the ground.”

I groaned. I didn’t want him to kill anyone, but I didn’t want him to stop talking. “You don’t need to kill for me.”

“Killing him would be kindness if he hurt you.” He curled his fingers into a fist. “If anyone hurts you, I will kill them.”

Our lust was all mixed in with viciousness. I wanted to take it and swallow it without reservation, even if I blew apart from the intensity of it.