Franco's Fortune (Redemption Book 2) (16 page)

“What if one of the neighbors saw you? The police
could be on their way now.”

He pushed her face against the wall, making her
grunt. “No one saw me, but if they did, I’ll be gone before the
police get here.”

Her phone, still in her pocket, rang. She hoped
DiGiacomo wouldn’t make her answer it. If it was Harris or Franco
or the detective, and she didn’t answer, they’d know something was
wrong.

“Don’t even think of answering that phone,”
DiGiacomo said.

She swallowed.
Thank you, God.
The phone
finally went silent.

“What do you want?” she asked.

His garlic-laced breath against her neck made her
cough. “That pretty boy Callahan fucked my wife. No one does that
and gets away with it.”

“So you want to kill him for banging your wife? Kind
of extreme if you ask me.”

“I ain’t asking you.”

Anger pulsed through her, along with a big dose of
fear. “Well, you’re shit out of luck. Franco’s not here. So
leave.”

His low, raspy laugh sent shivers along her
spine.

“You’re a feisty one. I know he’s not here. Who do
you think sent him on that wild goose chase?”

“The break-in at the site? That was you?”

“Some kids will do anything for a couple hits of
coke.”

With any luck, when she didn’t answer the phone, the
police or Harris and Franco would be on their way. “If you’re not
planning to kill Franco, why did you send him away? And why are you
here?”

“I’m not gonna to kill that prick. Least not yet. I
figured out another way to hurt him.” He trailed the knife down the
side of her face. “I’m gonna see how he likes it when another guy
fucks
his
bitch.” He grabbed her breast and squeezed. “I
like ’em bigger, but you’ll do. I guarantee once I get through with
you, you won’t want that pretty boy.”

“Apparently your
wife
found someone else
after you had her.”

“Shit, bitch. When I’m through fucking you, I’m
gonna cut your pretty face. See if your rich boyfriend wants you
then.”

Her head hurt worse than ever. The aspirin hadn’t
kicked in yet. She had to get control. “What makes you think Franco
will care who balls me? He has a lot of women.”

“Don’t give me that crap. I saw you two at the wine
shop. He took what was mine. I’m taking what’s his.”

“
You
slipped the note into his pocket?”

He pressed against her. She felt his hard erection
at her back. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed it along with
the memories of other times, other horrors.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he said, rubbing himself against
her backside. “A wig, glasses, uniform and everyone too stupid to
notice. That waiter’s probably still strung out on all the dope I
gave him.”

They’d really messed up. They could have had him
that night. How had all three of them missed him? DiGiacomo was
getting turned on. She had to shortcut him somehow. “That you in
the drive-by?” She knew better than to antagonize a jerk like
DiGiacomo, but if she could get him to lose his cool, she might
have a chance at escaping. “If so, you’re a lousy shot.”

He stopped rubbing himself against her and shoved
her up against the wall again, hard. “Shut up! If I’d wanted to hit
him, I would have.”

“And the turnpike?”

“Same deal. Just wanted to scare the prick.”

And now for the big one
. “So why do you want
his money?

“Money? Why would I want his damn money?”

“You don’t want any money?”

“What the fuck is this? Twenty fucking questions?
I’m the one who—hey!”

In his agitation, he’d moved slightly, inadvertently
giving her some space. Pulse racing, Jo dropped her right shoulder,
loosening his grip on her, twisted around, and before he could gain
control, double-punched him in the stomach.

“Fucking bitch!” he bellowed, stumbling.

Jo raced for her gun. She grabbed it and whirled on
him, but before she could get off a shot, he tackled her, throwing
her to the floor, face up. Her head hit the hard tile. For a
second, she thought she saw stars. Her gun flew out of her
hand.

He straddled her, his knees squeezing her hips. With
one hand he imprisoned both hers above her head, and with his other
hand he held up the knife. “I’m gonna cut you so bad even your own
mother won’t recognize you.”

“Been a long time since my mother gave a damn about
me.” Jo spat in his face.

“Fuck!” He dropped the knife and slapped her. The
metallic taste of blood sent a wave of nausea through her. She ran
her tongue over her lips, feeling the cut, and looked him in the
eye. “That all you got?”

“Like it rough, do you?” Slowly, his expression
changed to a smile. With a low chuckle, he released her arms and
stretched out to lie on top of her, nearly crushing her with his
weight. “Feel that, baby? That’s me wanting you. Like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” she moaned. “Bring it on.” Her arms
freed, she sinuously slid them up between their bodies, grabbed his
ears, pulled his face down to hers, then locked her legs around
him. At his surprised grunt, she poked her thumbs into his eyes and
pushed his head back. He screamed in pain. She dropped one of her
hands, slipped one knee under him and flipped him over. Still
screaming, he felt along the tile for his knife as Jo jumped off
him and grabbed her gun from the floor.

“Make one move and you’ve got a bullet in your sorry
ass,” she said.

His screaming stopped. A split second later,
pounding resonated from the front door, followed by the shouted
word, “Police!” Then the sound of wood splintering and the door
slamming against the wall. The slap of running feet heading to the
kitchen was music to Jo’s ears. Holding the gun steady, pointed at
DiGiacomo’s head, she allowed herself a small smile while a SWAT
team, guns drawn, ran into the room.

“Drop the gun, lady, and put your hands where we can
see them!” one of the cops yelled.

What
? Holy cow, they thought she was the
perp. Slowly, she set her gun on the counter, then raised her arms
and backed away. “What took you so long?”

***

T
he paramedics and SWAT
team had come and gone. Jo let out a long sigh, feeling the tension
leave her body. She’d done no lasting damage to DiGiacomo’s eyes
according to the paramedics. Despite her protests that she was
fine, they’d examined her also and put an antibacterial ointment on
her cut lip. Detective Morelli came in as the uniforms were
escorting DiGiacomo out, complaining loudly about his eyes, in
handcuffs.

Jo had just finished giving her statement to the
detective when Franco, followed by Harris, rushed into the house.
Grabbing her hands, Franco pulled her up from the sectional and
into his arms, almost crushing her in the process.

“The police called while we were at the site. When
they said there’d been trouble at the house, I was afraid I’d lost
you.” His breathing harsh, he pressed her to him again.

Forgetting about Morelli, she rested her cheek on
Franco’s firm chest. Why not? It was where she wanted to be right
now anyway. The rapid beating of his heart pulsed through her. His
closeness and his concern flowed over her like a soothing balm and
warmed her all over.

He drew away and cupped her shoulders, holding her
at arm’s length, studying her. “I should have been here.” He
reached out and dabbed a gentle finger over the cut on her lip.
“That sonofabitch hurt you.”

“I’m okay. Really.” She searched his eyes, wanting
to reassure him. “You couldn’t have known DiGiacomo set you up so
I’d be alone. I should have been more careful and suspected
something.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Franco said in a
fierce voice. “If anyone should be blamed, it’s the police.”

Gripping Jo’s hand, he whirled on the detective.
“How could you have let this happen? I thought you were watching
DiGiacomo.”

Detective Morelli put up his hand. “We’re sorry,
Franco. We’re doing an internal investigation to see where the
breakdown occurred. We had men staking out the house in Delaware
County where our source told us DiGiacomo was hiding. After the bad
intel about the South Philly house, the judge refused to grant a
search warrant without proof the suspect was there. DiGiacomo
created a diversion that distracted our men. The stakeout team
called me as soon as they figured out the diversion was to help
DiGiacomo get away. I had a feeling he was headed here. I was clear
on the other side of town, so when I couldn’t reach Jo by phone, I
sent the response team.”

“Franco.” Jo pulled on his hand to grab his
attention. “Detective Morelli tried to call me to warn me but
DiGiacomo had already gotten in. The police got here quickly. I’m
fine and DiGiacomo’s in custody. It’s all okay.”

He shook his head. “It’s not okay, Jo. I could have
lost you.”

“But you haven’t.”

In the awkward silence that followed, the detective
cleared his throat and Harris coughed. Her face heated. Feeling
vulnerable and exposed, she pulled free of Franco.

Detective Morelli closed his notebook and stuffed it
into his pocket. “I think we have all we need now. We’ll process
DiGiacomo and start questioning him. I’ll keep you posted.” He
nodded at Jo. “If you ever want a job with the Philadelphia police,
we’d be glad to have you.”

Jo held out her hand to the detective. “Thanks,
Detective. Your men got here just in time.”

With a smile, he shook her hand. “You had everything
under control.”

“That’s my Jo.” Harris grinned at her. “I know you
can take care of yourself, darlin’. But we shouldn’t have left
you.”

“Let’s stop with the blame game,” Jo said. “Bad guys
are part of the job.”

The detective shook Franco’s hand, then Harris’s,
and with another nod at Jo, he left.

Quiet settled around them as Jo glanced at the
splintered front door. “You can’t leave that door like that,” she
said, turning to Franco.

“I’ll call one of my construction supervisors to
send over a couple of men to fix it.”

Harris glanced at his watch. “Jo, how about you take
a break tonight? Strong as you are, I know you’re shaken. I’ll take
over your watch, but if DiGiacomo is our perp, we might not have to
worry much longer. Just to be safe, we’ll keep our backs up.”

“That’s right.
If
DiGiacomo is our perp,” Jo
repeated.

“What do you mean?” Franco asked.

“Something’s bothering me about this whole thing.”
She began to pace.

“We’ve gone over this before,” Franco said. “It’s
got to be DiGiacomo.” He reached to take her hand and stop her
pacing. “I don’t want you worrying about that tonight. Harris will
handle things while you rest.”

“Harris can’t stay up all night and go with you to
work tomorrow.”

Franco pulled her closer. “For once, listen to me
and Harris. Get some rest. I’ll cook up something for us while you
lie down.” He glanced at Harris. “Don’t worry about driving me to
work. I’m taking off tomorrow.”

“Why?” Jo asked. “You never take off.”

“You need to rest and I’m not leaving you
alone.”

“I can take care of myself, Callahan.”

“For God’s sake, woman, let someone else handle
things for a change.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“Listen to him, darlin’,” Harris interrupted. “He’s
right. I’ll take your shift tonight while you sleep and while you
get some rest now. I’ll call Logan. Fill him in. I’m sure he’ll
want us on the job a little longer until we’re sure the cops have
their guy.”

“See, it’s all handled,” Franco said.

“Stop ordering me around, both of you. Harris, you
need your sleep. I’ll stay up tonight. That’s my
job
.”

“I’m used to all-night stakeouts, darlin’. I need
very little sleep. You know that. Once the door’s fixed, I’ll even
patrol outside from time-to-time to make sure things are okay. I’ve
got plenty to keep me busy.”

“Fine,” she snarled. “Have it your way. Both of
you.” With that, she stalked out of the room. Truth be told, she
was exhausted. All those nights of staying awake had taken their
toll. She knew Harris had a lot of stakeout experience, but she
wondered if his mention of patrolling outside was to give Franco
and her time alone.

No. Harris was a professional.

Three hours later Jo felt refreshed after a long
shower, a short nap, and a delicious meal of baked salmon with
jasmine rice and mixed vegetables in a cream sauce. Franco was a
great cook. Delicious-looking, sexy, strong—and the man could cook.
What more could a woman ask for?

As they ate, two of Franco’s construction workers
repaired the door. Franco had asked them to start once Jo had woken
from her nap. He didn’t want the sounds of hammering to wake her.
Warmed by his consideration, she basked in feelings of security
that lasted all through dinner.

While Harris patrolled outside now, making sure the
perimeter of the house was secure, she sat at the kitchen counter
and watched Franco load the dishwasher and clean up. Wearing jeans
and a white T-shirt and brandishing a kitchen towel, he looked
sexier than a man had a right to.

He turned and caught her staring. His mouth turned
up at the corners in a smile that quickly faded. “How are you
feeling?”

“I’m really okay. I could stay up tonight and keep
an eye on things. Harris can go home.”

He threw the towel on the counter and strode to her.
“Let me watch over you for a change. I know how capable you are,
but you’ve been running yourself ragged. Harris is willing to help
out tonight.”

He placed a butterfly kiss on her lips. “I want to
take care of you. Okay?”

His kindness brought a lump to her throat, and she
nodded. She heard the truth in his voice and recognized the resolve
in his eyes. She dropped her gaze. The same weakness she’d
experienced earlier threatened to overtake her again. Since her
father had died when she was six, no man, except for Logan, the
brother of her heart, had wanted to take care of her.