Speak Low (5 page)

And Enzo had no room to talk.

“You’re the one with the fiancée, not me.”

“I told you last night—that’s a business arrangement.”

“I remember.” Irritated at the thought of the squeaking little chippie he was engaged to marry, I tried to get off his lap, but he held me there. His flesh was still relatively hard inside me, but I was no longer in the mood.

“Jealous?”

“No.” But my cheeks were burning. “I just don’t like being reminded of your goddamn girlfriend while I’m sitting on your lap.”

“That’s more than just my lap you’re on, isn’t it?”

“Stop it. You know what I mean. Here you are talking about not wanting others to have me, but I don’t even know when we can see each other, between my father and your fiancée, and—”

“Your father won’t be a problem. He’ll be so busy with his new business venture, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

“New business venture…you mean the new building?”

“And the gambling. I set that up, you know.”

I blinked in surprise. “Your father let you do that?”

“I’m a grown man, Tiny. My father doesn’t control me.” Anger edged its way underneath his words.

“Sorry, but I thought it was Angel who’d made the deal with my father today. He never said anything about you.”

“Well, I was there,” he said, irritated. “It was my idea to move Jack to a new building, let him run a few games, and let Raymond take over the bootlegging from Canada on his own.”

At the mention of his brother, I froze. “Raymond was there?”

Enzo smiled. “No, he’s still recovering from the wrath of Tiny O’Mara.”

In my mind I relived the adrenaline-and-terror-fueled blow to his head. I felt no guilt, but I did fear further violence. “Is he going to come after me again?”

“If he does, he’ll have me to answer to.”

“But he’s your brother.”

“I don’t fucking care who he is—anyone touches you, anyone even looks at you in a way I don’t like, I’ll kill him.”

Unease slithered up my body, wrapping itself around my chest like a boa constrictor. I tried to shake it off and speak lightly. “So it’s OK for you to have a fiancée, but no one can even look my way?”

“You know, if your friends hadn’t stolen that shipment, I wouldn’t be in this position. I could probably even break it off with Gina.”

I raised an eyebrow. This was something new. Yesterday when I’d confronted him about the engagement, he hadn’t said anything about leaving Gina Meloni, whose father owned a whiskey distillery in Kentucky. “Oh?”

“But now I can’t postpone anything until I pay for the fucking whiskey I ordered. It’s in Meloni’s warehouse, but he won’t deliver it until I pay him. And his men won’t let anyone else deliver booze to the club, which is a big fucking problem, as you might imagine.”

I didn’t much care about his whisky problem. “Postpone what? I thought you were already engaged.” I tried to recall a ring on Gina’s finger, but couldn’t. The couple times I’d seen her at the club, I hadn’t known about the engagement so I hadn’t thought to look for one.

Enzo turned his head and stared out the window. “I asked her father for more time to get the cash for the whiskey, and he offered a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“If Gina and I get married now, he’ll forgive the debt.”

The irony that it was now Enzo forced to come up with thousands of dollars on a deadline wasn’t lost on me, but I couldn’t help obsessing over the word
married
, especially in light of our intimate seating arrangement. “Wait a minute…you’re actually going to marry her?”

“I’m trying to get out of it.”

My mouth fell open “Jesus Christ, Enzo!” This time when I wrestled my way off his lap, he didn’t stop me.

“What’s the problem, Tiny? It’s not as if you didn’t know about her. We discussed the fact that you and I are a secret, remember? That’s half the fun.”

We
had
discussed it, sort of—actually it was less a discussion and more his telling me how things had to be. If I wanted him, those were the terms. And while the secrecy did add a certain clandestine thrill to our meetings, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a married man’s mistress. Frowning, I looked away as he removed the spent condom.

“Listen to me,” he said. “Gina’s not important. What matters is that I can’t let Meloni see I can be bested by a bunch of fucking upstart delinquents from the Scarfone gang. He’ll make my life hell. He’ll think he can push me around. That’s why I have to go after them myself. Forget what I told you about talking to Lupo.”

At the mention of Joey, I froze. “What?”

“I need to handle this now. I can’t wait around and hope that he tells you something.”

“Can’t you just ask your father for the money?”

“I’m not a fucking child, Tiny. I can handle this myself.”

“So now what?” Pressing my knees together, I pushed my nightgown down and tucked it around my legs. My thighs were sticky.

“So now I get my money back from those assholes. I can’t let it be known that you can steal from Enzo DiFiore. I have to send a message.”

Chills swept down my arms. “How?”

He set his jaw and didn’t answer, but I knew what he was thinking. My stomach heaved, imagining it could be Joey on the receiving end of that message. “Don’t, Enzo. You don’t have to hurt anyone—let me help you.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Yes, I can.”
What are you doing?
a voice inside me screamed.

But I ignored it.

“The River Gang didn’t sell the opium. Joey brought it back to Detroit.” I whispered the words, as if the volume at which I betrayed Joey might lessen its reprehensibility.

Enzo fixed his eyes on me. “What? Who told you that?”

“Joey wants to talk to you. Maybe make a deal with you.” The words tumbled out quickly.

“Where is it?”

Finally I bit my tongue. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, I think you do.” He leaned closer, slipping his arms around me and dragging me across his lap on my back. My legs extended along the seat, and I pressed my knees together as his right hand slid under my nightgown again. “And you’re going to tell me.”

“Enzo, please.”

He kneaded my thigh, but his touch was gentle, too gentle for how I knew he must be feeling inside. And he was smiling. “Tell me, darling.”

I chewed my bottom lip as his eyes searched my face. Despite his warm hands on me, the curve of his lips was as chilling as the calm in his voice. It was the Enzo I’d first met, the one who could mask his emotions so masterfully that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He’d let some of that façade slip in the last few days.
But now there’s something he wants more than you.
“I can’t.”

His smile widened as his fingers slid higher and worked between my inner thighs. “You can do anything you want,” he said softly, bringing his lips close to mine as he began to stroke me. “You’re still wet. I love that I make you this wet.” Lowering his mouth, he slid his tongue between my lips and eased one finger, then another, inside me, his languid kiss mirroring the gentle rhythm of his hand.

Somewhere inside my brain was a voice warning me that this was wrong, that I’d made a promise to Joey, that Enzo wasn’t kissing me this way because he cared for me. But I silenced it by telling myself I’d done the right thing by revealing Joey’s secret—I’d prevented Enzo from hurting anyone. And even if Enzo didn’t love me, he certainly loved pleasing me, and maybe that was enough. As his tongue swept mine, my arms snaked around his neck and I widened my knees a little.

“Good girl,” he whispered, removing his fingers to caress my tender, swollen flesh before plunging them deep inside me again. “You’re going to come again for me.”

“Oh God…” I clutched at his neck and turned my face into his chest, but even the smell of him, smoky and masculine, drove me mad with desire.

He rubbed his wet fingers over the most sensitive skin on my body. “I know everything you want. And I can give it all to you, you know I can.” His voice was dulcet, the words dripping from his lips like honey. “Your own apartment, money to do as you please, new clothes…the life you deserve. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

When I moaned, he rubbed faster and harder, and I could only think
yes, yes, yes
. I murmured the words, and he brought his lips closer to my ear.

“Wouldn’t you like your own place? Where we can be together whenever we want? I’ll make you come all…night…long.”

His breath tickled my skin, his words echoing through the roar of blood and the buzz of nerve endings and—
oh my God
the way he touched me made me feel like nothing else mattered but the moment and the need and the heat and the spiraling climb toward release…

“Yes!” I cried out, lifting my hips against his hand as the second orgasm exploded inside me, no less powerful than the first. When the tightness finally eased, my bones were floating in my skin.

“Mmmmm.” He kissed me again. “You’ll need an apartment that has thick walls.”

I managed a tiny smile.

“So what do you say?”

“I…can’t afford an apartment.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“No.” Orgasms aside, I didn’t want to him to own me.

“Then I’ll get you a job. Would you like to work at the club?”

“Work at the club? What would I do?”

“Whatever you want. Hostess? Hat check? Waitress?” He cocked his head. “You don’t sing, do you? Or dance? You’d look fantastic on stage in a short little costume.”

“Uh, no.” Because one of my legs was slightly shorter than the other, the result of a difficult birth during which my hip was broken, I’d never felt terribly natural while dancing—sometimes even walking comfortably was a chore. And my singing made my cooking skills look good.

“Well, you can think about it then. But I’ll see to it that you’re paid
very
well, if you want.”

I exhaled, closing my eyes. Of course I wanted it. I wanted everything he just mentioned—the apartment, the nights with him, the money to do as I pleased, the freedom to make my choices and own my mistakes as well as my successes. What young woman didn’t want to live a flapper’s life with all its wicked delights?

But at what price?

If I told Enzo where the opium was and he took it back, Joey would know I’d betrayed him. But if I didn’t, Enzo would take matters into his own hands and people would get hurt, maybe even killed.

I opened my eyes. “If I tell you where the opium is, you have to promise me you’ll give me a chance to talk to Joey before you take it.”

“I can’t promise that, Tiny. But I can promise that if you
don’t
tell me, I’ll have no choice but to settle this score my own way.”

My heart stuttered. “Well…you can’t hurt Joey. Promise that.”

Enzo stiffened. “What is he to you?”

“A friend.”

Silence. “I won’t have to hurt him if he cooperates. And I won’t have to marry Gina if I get the cash for the drugs.”

It was so dark, I couldn’t read his eyes. I wanted everything he was offering. And I didn’t want him to marry Gina. What had he said to me this morning?
You and I are going to have to trust each other a little bit.

I took a breath. “It’s in the boathouse.”

A smile crept onto his lips, slow and sinister. “Shall we take a ride?”

I struggled to sit up. “No!”

He shifted me onto the seat beside him and started the car.

Panicked, I put my hands on his arm and tugged. “Please, Enzo. Just wait, all right?” It occurred to me that I wasn’t entirely positive the drugs were still in the boathouse. Even if they had been there earlier today, Joey might have moved them after dropping me off. I hung on as he swung the car around and headed back onto Jefferson. “Listen, I wasn’t supposed to tell you anything yet, and now I’ll be in trouble.”

Enzo laughed. “Trouble is your middle name, darling.”

Frowning, I scooted away from him and stared out the window. Enzo rarely used any terms of endearment with me, and somehow this one lacked a certain affection I was hoping to develop between us. Why the hell couldn’t I meet a normal fellow like Evelyn had? One who took me to the movies or a dance on a Saturday night?

Enzo turned off Jefferson onto the boathouse drive, and I had to reach out and steady myself again as the Packard bumped and shimmied over the tree-rutted and potholed dirt. Low hanging branches scraped against the windows, and Enzo swore softly. “Fucking trees better not ruin this paint job. I just got this car.”

I felt like spitting on the new upholstery, and I might have if I weren’t so scared.

When we emerged into the clearing where the abandoned boathouse stood, a shiver ran through me. This is where I’d been abducted just a few nights ago by Raymond and Harry, and I didn’t much feel like reliving that memory. Beyond the dilapidated old structure, Lake St. Clair loomed, black and silent. I wrapped my bare arms around myself, feeling exposed and vulnerable in my nightgown. “I’ll wait here.”

Enzo looked over at me but didn’t reply. After pulling his braces back onto his shoulders, he got out of the car and opened the door to the back. I thought he might be looking for his coat but instead he reached down and retrieved a pistol from beneath the seat. My mouth hung open as he checked it for bullets.

“What the hell is that for?” I whispered. “There’s nobody here!”

“Then there won’t be any trouble.” His tone was cool and confident—of course it was— but he glanced over both shoulders as he walked past the giant weeping willow to the boathouse door. The waning moon offered little light, so I didn’t see how he managed to pick the lock, but within seconds his white shirt disappeared into the shadows of the building.

I swallowed hard, murmuring a quick prayer that the drugs were there, that Enzo wouldn’t want to take them tonight, and that Joey would forgive me for this.

Before I even got the chance to say
Amen
, the gun went off.

Chapter Four

I opened the car door and took off running for the boathouse before I thought it through. “Enzo!” I yelled as I crossed the threshold into the cool, dark space. Stopping just inside the door, I was relieved to see him standing there, unharmed. His back was to me, and both his hands were in the air near his shoulders. Neither hand held the pistol.

“Tiny, go back outside please.”

I barely heard the words over the galloping of my heart, which felt like someone’s fist trying to punch through my ribs. I looked around, confused. The voice was deep and familiar, but it wasn’t Enzo’s. Inching forward, I scanned the shadows and saw Joey standing next to a large trunk, pointing a gun at Enzo. “Joey?”

“I said, go back outside.” He kept his eyes and his weapon on Enzo.

“No! What are you doing?” I tried walking toward him, but immediately someone threw a thick arm around me from behind and pinned my back to his chest—not hard enough to hurt me, but enough to prevent me from moving forward. I tugged at the wrist, to no avail. “Hey!”

“Take her out, Angelo.” Joey’s voice was colder than I’d ever heard it, which must have been why I hadn’t recognized it right away.

“Hold on, just wait a second.” I struggled to free myself from Angelo’s hairy left arm. Like Enzo and Joey, he wore no coat and his cuffs were rolled. His right arm extended toward Enzo, gun aimed. “What is this?”

“It’s a meeting,” said Angelo. “Thanks for setting it up.”

“What do you mean, setting it up? I didn’t do this!” I panicked, imagining Enzo would think I’d sent him into a trap.

“I figured you’d tell him.” Joey’s voice was devoid of any emotion, but I felt the sting of his words as if he’d slapped me. “And I had a feeling it might be tonight.”

“Joey, please,” I began.

“Get her out of here,” he said.

“Why?” Enzo asked. “If all you want to do is make a deal, why not let her stay? She’s hardly going to run away in her nightgown.”

Oh God
—I’d forgotten I was in my nightgown, and barefoot.
Jesus, what Joey must think!
And Angelo—my face burned with shame that a strange man held me so close in my pajamas. Frantically, I wondered why Enzo wanted me to stay. Did he think they’d be less likely to shoot him if I was in the boathouse?

Or did he want me where he could see me?

This was a huge problem with us—we were rarely sure whose side the other was on. My hands shook, and I tightened them into fists to keep them still. “Let me stay.” I forced myself to sound defiant. “I won’t be any trouble. I was trying to do as you asked and set up a meeting, Joey, but he insisted on seeing for himself if the drugs were here.”

“Of course he did.” Joey never took his eyes from Enzo. “He probably wouldn’t have met with me otherwise.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” Enzo sounded way too self-righteous for someone with two guns pointed at him. Silently I pleaded with him to show some humility. “You fucked up a huge deal for me.”

“Tough luck, I guess,” Joey said.

Angelo spit on the boathouse floor, and my stomach turned over at the splat. “You ready to talk business or you want to cry about the past?”

I braced myself for an angry reaction from Enzo, but he stayed calm as he regarded Angelo. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Shut your mouth,” Joey ordered. “We came to make a deal. You interested?”

“Can I put my arms down?”

“Be my guest. But stay the fuck where you are.”

Enzo lowered his arms. “What’s the deal you’re offering?”

“You have a buyer lined up for this?” Joey jerked his head toward the trunk next to him. It was large and rectangular, the kind used on steamer ships to make a long voyage.

“I might.”

“We make the sale together,” Joey said. “I’ll deliver the product.”

“And what do I get out of this deal?”

“A cut of the profit.”

“What kind of cut?”

“I think thirty percent’s fair.”

“I think you’re fucking crazy.”

“I could just kill you, you know.”

A high-pitched sound escaped my throat. Neither Enzo nor Joey looked at me.

“Killing me won’t get you what you want.”

Joey shrugged. “But it might be fun.”

“Please, stop,” I begged. Angelo tightened his grip on me, and I whimpered in protest.

“Let her go,” Joey said.

“Hunh?” Angelo was as surprised as I was.

“You heard me. Let her go.”

The arm around my chest didn’t loosen. “What the fuck, Lupo?”

“Just do it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Angelo released me and moved closer to Enzo, bringing his other hand to the gun.

“Tiny, bring me the pistol on the ground.” Joey’s voice was cool and steady, and he still didn’t look at me.

I hurried forward, scooping up Enzo’s gun from the cement floor and bringing it to Joey. As he took the gun from my hands, the moonlight shining through the high windows revealed the fury in his eyes.

I remembered a night not long ago when Joey and I had been alone in the boathouse, the night he’d kissed me on the lake…the night a storm raged outside and lightning had illuminated his features as he’d moved toward me in the dark, his voice teasing…I heard none of that levity now.

“So DiFiore, you can either agree to what we’re offering here, which is an even three-way split—more than anyone else would offer, by the fucking way—or you can kiss thousands of dollars goodbye like a goddamn fool.”

Enzo squared his shoulders. “I’m no fool.”

“Then make the deal.”

Unbearable silence followed. Finally he spoke. “How do I know you’ve really got the drugs? Could be anything in that trunk.”

Joey nodded at Angelo, who grabbed Enzo by the upper arm and put the gun under his chin. They were about the same height, but Angelo was meatier, with a thick neck and a beefy chest that bulged inside his shirt. By contrast, Enzo’s frame appeared slender. Angelo led him over to the trunk, which Joey opened. Tentatively, I tiptoed forward and peered inside too.

It was full of tin containers shaped like small bricks with rounded edges, and they were labeled, but I couldn’t read the words in the dark. Joey shut the lid. “Well?”

Enzo studied Joey. “What’s Sam paying you?”

“This is between us. Sam doesn’t know about it, and he’s not gonna find out about it, neither, understand?” Joey raised the gun a little higher.

Enzo’s lips twitched. “Lupo, you have no fucking idea what you’re doing.”

My heart skipped a beat—that was exactly what I was afraid of.

But Joey stood his ground. “Deal or no deal, asshole.”

Enzo stared at Joey for another few seconds, and then he glanced at Angelo. I might as well have been invisible. “Deal.”

To my astonishment, the two shook on it before Angelo marched us out to the Packard at gunpoint. I couldn’t even bring myself to glance back at Joey as we left.

#

Enzo was silent on the way back to my house, but he wore an eerily calm expression. He switched off the headlamps once he’d turned onto my street, and slowed the Packard to a crawl before pulling into the drive next to my house.

When the motor was silent, he looked at me. “Are you all right?”

“No.”

He smiled, the bastard. “I’d say I was sorry for taking you out tonight, but I’d be lying.”

“You enjoyed this?”

“Well…parts of it. Maybe even most of it.” He brushed a finger over my shoulder, but I leaned away from him.

“You could have been killed, Enzo!”

“Those guys were never going to kill me. They need me.”

“Well, it frightens me, all the guns and threats and posturing. Not to mention the stealing and the lying and the underhanded deals.”

“That’s how it works, Tiny.”

I crossed my arms in a huff.

Enzo smiled again. “Are you angry with me or with yourself?”

“I’m angry with everyone and everything right now. No matter what I do, I can’t get anything right.”

“Come on, now.” Enzo slipped his fingers up the back of my neck through my hair. When I tried to lean away, he closed his fist, keeping my head where it was and forcing me to look at him. “Everything is going to be perfect, Tiny. You’ll see.”

“How do you figure? Will your thirty percent cut of the opium be enough to pay off Gina’s father?”

His lips tipped up, the smile of an adult tolerating an ignorant child. “Of course not.”

“Well, then—how will everything be perfect? I don’t understand.” He couldn’t mean he was going to steal the drugs—Joey would take them from the boathouse tonight, I was certain, and this time he wouldn’t be foolish enough to trust me with their location.

Instead of explaining, Enzo leaned forward and kissed me lightly on each cheek. “Good night, Tiny.”

“Enzo, I—”

“Shhh.” He put a finger to my lips. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to take care of everything.”

“But—”

“Leave it all to me.”

I pulled his hand away from my mouth. “You can’t hurt Joey. You promised.”

“I won’t have to.” He released me and sat back. “If he’s smart.”

“And you can’t go to Sam the Barber with this information. He’ll kill Joey himself.”

Enzo’s voice took on a new edge. “You’re awfully concerned about Lupo. I’m not sure I like it.”

Be careful.
“I’m just trying to prevent people from getting hurt, Enzo.” That was the truth, wasn’t it? I thought it was, but for me the truth was becoming more nebulous every day. It was nothing I could cling to for safety.

“I see the way he looks at you,” Enzo said icily.

“You’re imagining things. Right now he wants to shoot me. I’m surprised he didn’t.”

“He’s not going to shoot either one of us. In fact, I think he’s going to negotiate further with me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because I’ve done a little research on your friend. And I have something he wants. I’m going to offer it to him.” With that he put both hands on the steering wheel. “Now you better go in. I’ll see you soon.”

After shutting the car door as quietly as possible, I snuck back into the house and crept up the stairs, attempting to avoid the ones that creaked.

Wait a minute, what am I doing? Why am I sneaking around like this?
It was probably three o’clock in the morning, but what the hell did I care? What’s the worst Daddy would do—throw me out?
To hell with it.
I walked up the stairs as if it were noontime, actually disappointed that my feet didn’t make more noise on the carpeted steps. How I would have liked to show Daddy he couldn’t police me anymore! I wasn’t his to control—I wasn’t anybody’s.

In the bathroom, I cleaned up a little before climbing back into bed. My body was tired, but my mind wouldn’t rest. I lay on my side, hands tucked under my cheek and knees drawn to my chest. What could Enzo possibly have that Joey wanted? It couldn’t be money.

The whiskey? No, he didn’t really have that yet either.

But I couldn’t think of any other asset Enzo had to offer Joey at this point, so I approached it from the other side.

What does Joey want?

Immediately, my stomach flipped. I curled my toes and squeezed my thighs together, bringing my legs tighter into my chest. Knock that off.
Even if Joey had felt something stronger than friendship for you before, which he’d never actually said, your behavior tonight was enough to splinter it.

The hideous weight of what I’d done dropped onto my chest like an anvil and stayed there, pressing the air from my lungs. Tears burned beneath my eyelids. Without Joey’s help last week, I never would have gotten the ten thousand dollars to free Daddy. And he’d never asked for anything in return. Yet I’d repaid him tonight with duplicity, giving up his secret to Enzo in exchange for my own pleasure, for promises whispered in the dark. The shame of it rained down on me—I gasped for air as if I were suffocating.

Hold on, just hold on
, said a voice inside me.
You did what you had to do to keep Joey safe, right?
Inhaling deeply, I held my breath for a moment and counted to ten before letting it out, slowly.
Yes, I did.

Somehow, it didn’t make me feel any better.

Weeping into my pillow, I wondered how I’d ever make things right again between us.

#

By the time I left my room the following morning, Daddy was up and out of the house. I’d missed nine o’clock mass, which I felt some guilt about, but instead of dwelling on it, I dressed and took a streetcar down to Mt. Elliott Cemetery, where our mother was buried. Usually the girls and I did this together on Sundays, and when I entered the scrolling gates and saw other families at gravesites, pulling weeds and sprucing up flowers, or even just holding hands as they strolled or sat on a bench in quiet contemplation, a lump formed in my throat.

Swallowing hard, I walked toward the section where our mother rested, keeping my head down. It was sunny but breezy, and I had to hold one hand on my hat, which was wide with an oversized brim. It wasn’t until I was nearly upon her simple Celtic cross that I saw someone already there. I froze, my Sunday dress flapping about my knees in the wind.

Daddy stood, hat in folded hands, feet apart. From the side, I could see his head was bowed, and I had the feeling that his eyes were closed. When I took a step closer, I saw I was right. His lips moved in silent prayer, or perhaps confession or apology—he certainly had any number of things he might have told her in order to unburden himself. I couldn’t even imagine what she’d have said back. Would she forgive him his sins and shortcomings as a father, as a man?

And what about your own?

An ache took hold of my heart, and the lump returned to my throat. What would she say to me if she could speak from beyond the grave? Would she tell me I was selfish to leave home? Would she ask me to think of my sisters first? Or would she agree with me that I’d done enough and it was time to move on with my life? She’d married young, like Bridget, and had a family almost as quickly. In fact, it was my mother who’d always talked of being a nurse if she’d had the opportunity or the education. She was always so proud of my high marks in school and my determination to go to college. After she died in childbirth with Mary Grace ten years ago, I made up my mind that I’d do as she’d wished she could have.