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Authors: Mallory Monroe

BOOK: MOB BOSS 2
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“She’s in bad shape, there’s no other way to put it. It’l be a miracle if she lasts the night.”

Reno’s heart, which he didn’t think could drop any further, did. He looked at Trina, who could have been dead, thought about her mother fighting for her life, and al because of their association

with him. Al because of his selfish need to have a good woman in his life. And the guilt that was already agonizing enough, almost unbearable even before this craziness, felt like an ice pick through the heart that kept stabbing him over and over again. And Pags was back, that maniac Pagnini, ready to avenge Partanna’s death.

“Good Lord,” Reno thought with the anguish that only a drowning man could feel. Carmine and the doctor looked at him. “What have I done?”

FIVE

Earnestine Hathaway did make it through the night. It was touch and go, but she made it. Her husband would spend that night in her room, praying al night for her, and Reno and Carmine spent the

night in Trina’s room, praying for them both.

Trina woke up a couple times through the night, and once she recognized Reno and he assured her, prematurely, that her mother would be fine, she would go back to sleep. Reno sat in a

comfortable chair Dr. Kaye was able to wrangle for him, and watched her sleep. Her always smooth black skin had taken on an ash color, and her normaly gorgeous eyes, whenever she did open

them, looked glazed-over and unfocused. But miraculously al of the tests they ran on her were negative and the only damage was the actual smal bruise on her arm. Reno couldn’t praise God enough.

Although that guilt stil clung to him like slime.

Carmine looked at his brother-in-law. He was the strongest man he’d ever known, and every time he was around him he understood more and more why Reno’s old man so much wanted Reno

to be in the business with him. He knew how to handle situations.

Like Dirty for instance. Carmine hated doing it, but had no choice but to leave Dirty in charge of the family back in Jersey so that he could be Reno’s personal bodyguard to Mississippi. They

had others around him, but they weren’t trusting anybody at this point.

But Carmine found out late last night, when he caled Dirty to check on the situation there, that Reno had the entire family on a plane to Nevada, to the better fortified family compound in Spring

Valey a few miles from the Strip, and he had his own Vegas people, not Vito Giancarlo or any of those east coast bosses, handling security. And Carmine thought Reno was so distraught that he could

barely think straight, let alone handle anything. But that was Reno, he thought, staring at him. The only man he trusted without question. The only human being on the face of this earth he would die for.

“What is it?” Reno asked him. Although he was slumped down in that chair staring at Trina, he could see Carmine, through the corners of his eyes, staring at him. “What’s on your mind?”

“What’s the game plan, Reno? It al seems like it’s kind of out of control right now.”

Reno closed his eyes then opened them back up again. Sometimes he wished he could just walk away from everything, to not have to deal with anything in his life for the rest of his life. “We

need some backup,” he ultimately said.

“You mean Vito Giancarlo and the Drag and Fabruccio and those guys?”

“I mean Tommy and Sal Luca.”

Carmine stared at Reno as if he’d lost his mind. “You’re kidding me, right? Tommy and Sal Luca? As in Tommy and Sal Luca Gabrini? Your crazy-ass cousins?”

“What do you mean crazy? What’s crazy about them? They’re former cops for crying out loud!”

“Yeah, that’s why they’re crazy. Cops. Please. Your old man pissed on the ground their old man walked on.”

“I know what Pop did, and I know how he felt about his brother being a cop and his brother’s sons being cops. But I’m not Pop.” Reno sometimes wondered if he despised his father for

getting the family caught up in so much crime and violence. He used to wish his father was more like his Uncle Benny, more like Tommy and Sal Luca’s old man. “I was glad they stayed out of the

business quite frankly,” he went on. “I envy them for not getting dragged into this cockamamie business.”

“Yet you’re looking to drag them in now.”

“Hel yeah I’m dragging them in. Until I can get a handle on what’s going on here. I thought our hit on Partanna would be the end of it. I thought we had got’em al, Partanna and his entire crew,

when we probably hadn’t even gotten most of them.” Reno looked at Trina. “They tried to kil my wife, and I don’t know who they are. That’s some scary shit, Carmine. That changes the game.”

Carmine didn’t think he’d ever seen Reno so uncertain, so flustered. “You know Joe Ralston’s disappeared,” he said.

“I know. That’s my point. Who can we trust?”

“Word on the street,” Carmine said carefuly, “is that JoeJoe was working for Pags al along, and they had their eyes on you even before the Partanna hit.”

Reno looked at Carmine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why the--” Reno had to calm himself back down. He glanced at Trina, to make sure she was stil asleep, and then back at Carmine. “Why wasn’t word on the street giving us this

information before now? If word on the street is so damned reliable.”

“I’m just teling you what I heard, Reno. I worked my sources and that’s what they told me. They said no contract was out, nothing like that, but Partanna figured you would try a retaliatory

strike. But there was no chatter, no evidence of it. Besides, they figured you was too legit, too moral, to ever go down a serious retaliation road. They didn’t think they had a beef with you. You know they cal you Saint Dominic behind your back.”

Some saint, Reno thought, and looked at Trina.

Carmine looked at him. “You think Tommy and Sal Luca wil even come?” he asked.

“They’l come,” Reno assured him. “I asked them to come and they said they’l come.”

“You asked them? What, already?” Carmine couldn’t believe it. “When Reno? I been with you twenty-four seven since we got here.”

“Before we got here,” Reno said. “On the plane. I knew JoeJoe was ful of shit when he caled me. He knew it too, that’s why he took off.”

“He’s a dead man, you know that?”

Trina opened her eyes. Reno jumped up and hurried to her side. He sat on the edge of her bed. “Helo, sweetheart.”

Trina touched the side of his face. “You look awful.”

“Me?” Reno said with a smile. “Check out yourself, sister. You don’t look like no beauty queen laying up there either, you know. I look awful? Please.”

Trina smiled, although she was sore and it was painful to do. But if Reno was joking, she thought, it couldn’t possibly be as bad as she thought it was. “How’s Ma?” she asked him.

“She’s good, Tree,” he said. “I saw her this morning. She’s a little beat up, I ain’t gonna lie to you, but she’s in no danger. Your father’s with her. He kept checking on you through the night

too, kept coming in here. I told him I got you, don’t worry about you.”

too, kept coming in here. I told him I got you, don’t worry about you.”

Trina nodded. Then a serious look came over her. “Who did this, Reno?” she asked him.

“I’m not sure yet,” Reno said, “but I’m working on it.”

“But I thought you said they got everybody when they took care of Partanna.”

“Yeah, that was the thought.”

“But you were wrong?”

“Yes, I was wrong like I am ninety percent of the time. But stop worrying about that, you hear me? Just get wel so I can get your gorgeous self out of this hick town and back safely at the

PaLargio where you belong.”

“It’s a mob war, Reno,” she said, stil worrying.

“A mob war,” Reno said with a smile. Looked at Carmine. “Check her out. A mob war.” Then he turned back to his wife. “Stop worrying, I mean it.”

“You’re worrying,” Trina said.

“I’m worrying? Says who? You? Do I look worried? Wel, do I, Tree?”

“You don’t look worried, no.”

“Then what you worrying for? I want to get you out of this bed and back at the PaLargio. Then we’l talk.”

Trina began drifting again. “Some honeymoon,” she said as she drifted off.

“Yeah,” Reno said, rubbing the hair out of her face, fighting back the tears. “I hear ya’, sister.”

***

Two hours later and the Sheriff entered the hospital room. By now Trina was awake again and talking with her father, who sat on the edge of her bed. Reno was further away, leaned against the

back wal talking on his cel phone to Vegas, and Carmine was seated in a chair on his cel phone talking with his people in Jersey. They didn’t have any west coast mob connections where Partanna’s

main base of operations were, so the information either one of them were getting was sketchy.

Cecil Hathaway, Trina’s tal, handsome father, stood to his feet when the Sheriff arrived. Although Reno and Carmine noticed the arrival, they continued their separate phone conversations.

“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” Cecil said. It seemed to Reno that he was eyeing that sheriff suspiciously.

“Afternoon, Cecil,” the Sheriff said as he walked further toward the bed. He was a big, burly man, tal and strapping, and had a tank-sized cowboy hat on his head and wore a blazer with a

stitching of bulhorns on its back. Although he glanced at Reno and Carmine, his focus was on Trina. “Is this the victim?”

“Yes, sir, this here is my daughter Katrina.”

“I didn’t even know you had a daughter, Cecil, til they told me about the fire. Helo, there,” he addressed this to Trina.

“Helo.”

“Seems you got yourself in quite a mess here,” he said. “And just got in town, from what I understand. Which means you brought the mess with you. What kind of craziness you done got

yourself caught up in, little girl? Nearly got your own mama kiled.”

“Let me cal you back,” Reno immediately said into his cel phone, flipped it shut and headed for the bed. Carmine cut his cal too, and folowed Reno.

“Helo, Sheriff,” Reno said, “can I help you?”

The sheriff looked at Reno as if he had some nerve. His men had told him that they believed this daughter of Cecil’s was a prostitute or something and nearest they could figure Reno was

probably her pimp. “Can you help me?” the sheriff said. “Yeah, you can help me. You can keep your nose out of this here business, that’s how you can help me.”

“I choose not to do that,” Reno said. “What else you got?”

“Sheriff, this is--,” Cecil started, to introduce Reno, but the Sheriff cut him short.

“I’l tel you what else I’ve got,” the Sheriff said, his body now turned toward Reno. “I’ve got a mind to sail your ass straight to the penitentiary, that’s what I’ve got. What you’ve got is about

thirty seconds to get out of this room and stay out of these people’s business.”

“These
people
are my
people
, you dick!” Reno said, his control gone. Carmine, realizing law enforcement was not who they wanted to tangle with right now, hit him on the elbow.

“That’s my wife,” Reno said, ignoring Carmine. “So anything you need to say to her, you say to me.”

The sheriff seemed a little off put by this revelation, but he stil wasn’t charitable. A pimp, in his book, was as low as a murderer or rapist. “I don’t know if she’s your wife or not, I didn’t know

pimps married their hookers. But even if she is--”

“What?” Cecil said, astounded. “Pimp? Hooker? What are you talking about Sheriff?”

Reno was staring at the sheriff. Any other time and that red neck’s teeth would have been on the floor by now, at the very least that would have happened. But this was no ordinary time. There

had been an attempt on Trina’s life. And he wasn’t even sure by whom. Reno wasn’t about to do anything that would get him locked up in some jail and unable to protect her the way he knew he had

to. That was why he backed up. That was why he held his tongue. Trina’s father, however, didn’t hold anything.

“Are you out of your mind?” he asked the Sheriff. “My daughter is nobody’s prostitute, never was and never wil be. And this man you’re caling a pimp owns the PaLargio Hotel and Casino in

Las Vegas, Nevada, Sheriff, what are you talking about? He’s nobody’s pimp.”

The sheriff looked at Reno. “The PaLargio?” he said, stunned.

“In Las Vegas, Nevada, yes,” Cecil replied.

“I know where the PaLargio is,” the Sheriff snapped. “It’s right on the Strip, along with Caesars Palace and Baly’s and the rest of those places.”

“That’s right,” Cecil said. “So I don’t know what those Klansmen deputies of yours told you, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. None of them interviewed any of us last night

anyway, and it’s in the afternoon already before you get here.”

“That’s because the arson people had to be caled in first. I didn’t want to talk to anybody until I knew what I had to talk about.”

“That’s because the arson people had to be caled in first. I didn’t want to talk to anybody until I knew what I had to talk about.”

“What happened?” Cecil asked. “The stove exploded or something?”

“No, Cecil,” the sheriff said, “that thing was intentionaly set. This was no accident.”

Although Reno didn’t bat an eye as he stared at the sheriff, and pretended to be as astounded by the news as Cecil was, his heart was hammering. And he knew, just hearing the official version,

that his days of trying to play Mr. Nice Guy, of trying to stay the hel away from that helish life, were over. Whether he liked it or not, he was in, and he was in, with Trina right by his side, at the center of the storm.

SIX

Two weeks later

Trina woke up, in her soft bed at the PaLargio, to the feel of Reno’s hard penis entering her from behind. Her eyes fluttered and then closed again as he slid inside of her, and the feel of his rod

caused her body to become so relaxed that she began to ache in anticipation of what she knew was soon to come. Reno had his hands completely around her, and the side of his face was resting

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