Men of Mayhem (9 page)

I waved my hand in the air. “Can you go back there and get it for me? I left it on the sofa in his office. It’s a small black rectangular purse.”

“No. No one is allowed back there right now. Not even me.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

He arched one eyebrow. “I don’t care. Just find somewhere else to do it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

His dark eyes jerked to mine. “Look, lady, you can either come back in an hour, or I’ll have someone escort you out of here.”

“Thanks for your time.” I spun on my heel. “Asshole,” I said, flipping him off without turning around.

Admittedly, it was childish, but I’d gotten sick of men pushing me around. Gian had probably already moved on to some other woman for the night, and this time he added security so they wouldn’t be interrupted. Well, he and his goons could go fuck themselves. If that man refused to let me get my purse or go back there to get it for me, I’d try the exit door I saw earlier. It might be locked, but it was worth a shot.

Gian

Tony Red and Sal escorted Tommy Calvo in my office with a gun pointed at his head. His stringy dark hair stuck out in every direction and blood dripped from his nose. Carlo followed them inside, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Shut the fucking door,” I yelled at Carlo. I didn’t know why Tony Red recruited him tonight, especially when I was one second away from putting a bullet in Carlo’s head. Some of the guys told me Carlo had attempted to persuade Dominick to take me out based on fabricated charges. If he didn’t watch himself, I’d punch his ticket and worry about the implications later.

I dragged a wooden chair to the middle of my office and pointed to Tommy. “Have a seat.”

Tommy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind if I do.”

I circled his chair with my hands behind my back. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue,” Tommy snarled, his nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed. “You better have a damn good reason because Tony Red yanked me out of The Smoking Gun in the middle of a lap dance.”

“Where have you been for the past week?”

He stretched his legs out in front of him, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Taking care of my nonna. She’s been sick.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

I slammed my fists into his face.

First, an uppercut to his jaw.

Then, a left hook to his right cheek.

And finally, one more punch to his nose.

A sickening crack echoed through the room as his nose bent sideways. He slumped forward in his chair, cupping his face. Blood seeped between his fingers, dripping onto his shirt and pants.

I pulled a gun out of the waistband of my pants. “I strongly advise you to start showing me some respect, or you won’t like the consequences, and yes, this came from him.” I brushed my hand along my jaw to indicate I meant Dominick. To avoid being caught on a wiretap fingering Dominick for a crime, we weren’t allowed to say his name out loud. Instead, we touched or pointed to our jaw.

Tommy dropped his hands, his eyes wild. “I’m sorry, Gian. I had some shit come up this week, but it won’t happen again.”

“By shit coming up, do you mean skimming money from deadbeats to feed your drug habit?” I asked.

“I don’t do drugs, and I would never steal money from the family.”

I released the slide of my gun. “Is that right?”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I borrowed some here and there, but I’ll pay you back.”

“When?”

Tommy swallowed hard and then grabbed a white handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. “Tonight. I can borrow the money from my brother.” His brother wasn’t part of the Trassato family. He owned a deli in Bensonhurst.

I pointed at Tony Red. “Check his pockets.”

Tony Red grabbed Tommy by his collar and wrenched him to his feet. He pulled a roll of cash out of one pocket and a bag of white powder out of the other. He handed them both to me and shoved Tommy back into the chair.

I stuffed the roll of cash in my pocket. “How much is here?”

Tommy licked his lips. “Two grand.”

“You owe me ten grand more.”

Tommy nodded without giving me eye contact. “Okay. I can get it tonight.”

“And what about this?” I asked, holding up the plastic bag filled with white powder.

He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Somebody gave it to me at the club. I wasn’t going to touch it.”

I threw the bag at his face. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He glanced at me, then looked away. His eyes were red and dilated. “You’re a soldier. You’re a member of this family, and you’re walking around high as a fucking kite. People see you shoving drugs up your nose. You’re making a fool of yourself, and you’re making the family look incompetent.”

“I’m not,” he said, shaking his head back and forth.

“So you’re telling me if I had you pee in a cup, it’d come back clean?”

“Fuck you.” He jumped to his feet, and the chair fell backward, clacking against the floor. Contempt slithered across his face. “What I do in my free time is none of your business. If I want to do a few lines or get drunk, I’ll do it. The family doesn’t own me. You don’t own me and Dominick sure as hell doesn’t own me.”

Before I could even reach for my gun, Tony Red had his out. I held up my hand to stop him, but he didn’t even glance in my direction before he shot him.

Tommy’s body tumbled to the ground with a large thud. His head bounced on the floor like a ball. Blood stained the front of his white shirt. His dark eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

I wiped a splatter of blood on my cheek with the back of my hand. “Tony, what the hell? Do you realize what you just did? We weren’t supposed to kill him.”

Tony shoved his gun into the holster hidden inside of his suit. “I’ve been patient, but I couldn’t take it anymore. He mentioned
him
. He disrespected you. He skimmed money, and I was sick of him talking to us like we’re a bunch of jerk-offs. If you get in trouble from the higher ups, you can pin this on me. I don’t care. He deserved to die.”

I ran my hands through my hair as my mind searched for a way out of this mess. Dominick wouldn’t like that Tommy ended up dead. If we explained the situation, he’d probably think Tony was justified, but it reflected poorly on me that I couldn’t control my soldiers. “Carlo, go out the side door and pull the car around. Tony will carry out the body.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Carlo asked.

I threw the plastic bag of cocaine on top of Tommy’s body. “Dump his body along with the drugs on the street in the Bronx. Make the police believe it was a drug deal gone bad.”

Carlo folded his arms across his chest. “What are you going to do?”

“Clean up this fucking mess.” I gestured to the door. “Now move, before this blows up in our face.”

Evangeline

Exhausted, cold, and beyond pissed off were the only words to describe how I felt when I yanked on the exit door to Gian’s nightclub, and it didn’t budge. I walked to the corner of the building and watched the people laughing, talking, hugging, and stumbling as they left the nightclub.

Leaning against the brick wall, I brushed strands of my hair away from my face and tipped my head to the sky. Things like this only happened to me. I must have done some seriously bad stuff in my previous life to deserve my non-stop run of back luck, or maybe it meant I needed to suck it up, pack my bags, and move home.

Resigned to waiting until the full hour expired to go back inside, I closed my eyes. An air conditioning unit thrummed somewhere in the shadows. I shivered. The early summer air had grown damp and clammy since I’d sent the taxi driver away almost an hour ago after exchanging phone numbers. He’d been surprisingly accommodating.

Less than thirty seconds later, I heard the swish of the side door as someone pushed it open. A dark-haired man in a pinstriped suit kicked a wooden wedge under the bottom of the door and jogged down the street.

I didn’t waste a second. When he turned the corner, I shimmied through the opening, careful not to disturb the wedge. I slipped off my heels so I wouldn’t make any noise and tiptoed across the hall. The door to Gian’s office was cracked. I paused by the entrance, listening for voices. First came the low rumble of Gian’s voice followed by a muffled voice I didn’t recognize.

With one hand balanced on the doorjamb, I leaned forward and peeked inside. Unlike the bright overhead fluorescent lights in the hallway, Gian’s office was dimly lit. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a man with his arms and his legs spread wide on the floor, a dark liquid stained the front of his shirt. I leaned forward another inch. The man looked vacant, pale, and his eyes were fixed and unblinking. Then, reality slapped me in the face. He was dead.

An involuntary gasp tumbled from my mouth. My heart exploded in my chest and my knees buckled. I reached for the wall to stop my fall and my shoes slipped out of my grasp, clattering onto the floor.

My head jerked up, and my gaze collided with Gian’s. His golden eyes looked like the fires of hell. He stared at me, his face a blank mask as long seconds ticked by. I shook my head trying to clear my foggy brain and backpedaled a few steps. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I forgot my purse, but I’ll come back later.”

“Evangeline, come in here. We need to talk,” he said, his voice hard and forceful.

I swallowed the lump lodged in my throat. “I have to go.”

He lunged forward and I ran, but I only made it a few steps before his arms closed around my waist. My muscles tensed, and adrenaline surged through my body. My heart fluttered erratically inside my chest. My arms flailed wildly through the air like a wounded animal. I donkey-kicked backward, and he grunted. Within seconds, he whirled me around and pinned me to the wall. The bass from the music in the club vibrated the drywall.

“Let go of me,” I hissed through gritted teeth, ignoring the stomach-turning cocktail of anger and fear swirling inside of me.

“Listen,” he seethed. “You need to shut the fuck up and do everything I say, or you will end up at the bottom of the Hudson River.”

I sucked in a breath. “My friends know I’m here. They’re waiting right outside for me. They’ll call the cops if I don’t come out in a few minutes.” I choked back a sob.

“You’re lying.”

I forced my gaze to the floor so he couldn’t see my eyes. “You don’t know that.”

His body curved over mine, his dark eyes imprisoning me and my shoulders slumped. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my earlobe. I squeezed my eyes, hating the equal measures of lust and terror churning inside my gut like a tornado. “But I can’t promise my associates won’t hurt you unless you play along right now.”

Tears burned the corners of my eyes. “How? What do you want me to do?”

His thumb brushed over my lower lip, and I struggled to take a breath. “You can start by painting a smile on your face and acting like you’re not afraid of me.”

Every instinct told me to fight. My mind circled through a dozen or more escape plans, all with equally horrific endings. “How do I know I can trust you?” I said softly.