by Suzanne Hart
“No! I’m not mad! Why would I be mad?” I was walking too fast to answer Mikey properly. He was keeping up with me, but I noticed him eying each exit sign and stairwell as we made our way out of the hospital.
“Then stop for a minute, please?”
Mikey gently grabbed one of my arms, then the other as I stopped and spun around to face him. He took both my hands in his and looked at me with such intensity that I thought I might fall or faint.
“This is just happening way too fast. Can we just go back to your place and take a minute?” Mikey’s eyes were burning into mine. I felt like he was about to fly apart into a million pieces. His whole body seemed taut, pulled by an unseen force that was about to whisk him away like dry leaves in the wind. I couldn’t let that happen.
My mouth was over his, feeling my way inside him, we shared a deep and passionate kiss in the lobby of the hospital and I felt myself wanting to bite down on his lip, to run my hands over his body, to feel his crotch through his clothes. He pulled back suddenly, putting his hands to his temples.
“I just need to…” He had looked over my shoulder, turning pale. Then grabbing me by the elbow, he bundled us both out of the hospital and into a waiting cab. He was looking out the rear window as the cab pulled away. I gave the driver the address and we settled into traffic.
“What was all that about?” I asked, trying to sound calm, but feeling like things were looking golden, then swinging from bad worse with each hour that passed that day.
Mikey was still craning his neck to see behind us, checking if we were being followed. I didn’t think we were, but something or someone he saw at the hospital had put the fear of God into him.
I put my hand on his leg to comfort him, moving in closer. He jumped and pushing my hand away, shot me a cold look. “Listen! Can I just have a few minutes here? Huh?! Just a few minutes to myself!” As soon as he’d said it I could see the regret in his eyes, and I crossed my legs and looked out of the window.
The driver had looked up at Mikey’s outburst. L.A. was a dangerous place. He relaxed once he saw it was nothing and we rode in silence for about a half hour before I felt Mikey’s hand slipping into mine.
I wanted to be angry with him, to get mad like he did. But it was a relief. I had been fretting the whole ride about us, about what was going to happen. I needed him now and more than ever. I didn’t want us to start fighting.
I looked over and saw his own eyes giving me that magical stare again. I melted. It was something I never fully understood about Mikey. It wasn’t the way he looked at you, it was like a different sort of light, like an energy was coming right out of him, holding me and caressing me, asking me what I wanted to feel and then giving me the feeling times a hundred, in all the right places.
I was spellbound by this look, in that cab and more than ever. I felt the incredible urge to touch myself right in front of him; he smiled, seeming to read my thoughts.
I gave a quick glance to the driver in the rearview mirror, but his mind was someplace else. On the road I hoped. I felt Mikey’s hand squeeze mine and then I felt my own thrust down the front of my panties, stretching the thin fabric out in front with my knuckles as I began to fiercely circle myself. I felt an instant rush of wetness and stifled a moan as I brought my fingers up to Mikey’s mouth. He held both of them in another kind of warmth for a few seconds before removing them to kiss me again, guiding his own fingers down my front, completing the circles I had started to make as I began to feel the shape of him swelling in time to our hearts through his pants, tracing the lines of the tip of him with my nails.
Briefly interrupted by the driver, we arrived at my place and Mikey slipped him a few hundreds from a giant billfold. We made a strangely pathetic sight, trying to make our way to the front door and undress each other at the same time. It didn’t matter though, the whole world could’ve been watching and we couldn’t have cared.
I knew my way in and around the place, so was able to guide us to some comfort and privacy. “Lounge or bedroom?” I panted, almost growling as I kicked off my heels and fumbled madly at the delicious and sizeable bulge that was in Mikey’s pant front. I could see a darkness spreading the tip of his manhood through his clothes. The need to be inside each other was overpowering.
“Anywhere inside you is great,” he beamed, slipping out of his pants in one movement, his huge cock bobbing free and pulsing to another degree of firmness as the single bead of his own juices were making themselves known to me.
I couldn’t help but gasp, and then my eyes widened and I felt my heart skip a beat then jump a gear every time I saw Mikey naked. I tore at my own clothes, one hand gripping him as he moaned with me. We fell backward toward the main bedroom, collapsing on the floor.
We had kicked ourselves free of the clothes, including the fears and restraints of the day, of the world. It was just the two of us, holding the line between us with our eyes as our hands became guides for each other.
There was so much I wanted to say, and I knew he felt the same way. It was like a giant statement, a silent and emotional force between us was aching to be pierced, to free the torrent of feelings and excitement which had reached fever pitch inside us.
I had only just taken Mikey into my mouth, his engorged head was dark purple, so hard but so smooth. I cupped his balls with one hand and felt them rising instantly as he began to moan, then whine. He was coming already.
His thickness jerked and twitched in my hand, he cried out in disbelief. I could feel the salty hotness tingle at my throat and more running out over his huge cock; streaming out of my mouth and down his shaft. I felt myself moaning and jerking in time, three of my own fingers inside myself as I too shuddered to a quick finish.
I lifted my head back, pulling my hair to one side. I could see Mikey had lost none of his hardness as the last few slow pumps of his seed ran clear of his body. I felt an intense energizing sense of excitement, knowing that he could and would stay hard. For me. Because of me. I felt a renewed ache, the pleasant itch of arousal pulsing through my sex and around my swollen, sodden lips one more time.
Our bodies shook and trembled, the force pushing through us was almost frightening. I had never had such intense orgasms, such a connection with another person; not even with myself. We were both in tears at one point, in sheer amazement and probably a bit of horror, that such a feeling could even exist between two people.
It was dark by the time we had both spent each other’s energy. Laying there together in the dark, the feeling we had started with, that we were indestructible, destined to be a united force. And then it started to ebb away again. The crushing reality of our situation would always dawn on both of us, eventually.
Leone and Bernardi. It just couldn’t work.
Twenty-Three
Mikey
I don’t think he saw me, he couldn’t have. His back was to us. I had grabbed Natalia and virtually pushed her out of the hospital and the pair of us into the cab. He definitely didn’t see us. He couldn’t have. He didn’t.
Claridge. What the fuck was he doing there anyway?
I had told myself I was distant from the goings-on of my family, of the underworld in general. Seeing him at the hospital had been a punch to the stomach, a stark reminder that the business of murder and mayhem didn’t work nine to five, and it didn’t always call to make appointments either.
I had fought internally again, in the cab ride to Natalia’s; about whether I could even bother to attempt to make this thing work between us. It made no sense, we should be trying to put as much distance between us as possible, not play hide the Leone baloney for six hours straight.
Jesus, what a woman, though!
It was like the mere touch of her was like a switch, making me so hungry again, making me instantly hard and being able to come so hard and so much that it even put my past efforts in the amateur hour hall of fame. Almost.
We had lain there, trying to have sensible conversations about what to do, but it was useless. She had to go l
ook after her son and her aunt, and I had to find out what Claridge was doing at the hospital, as well as try and figure out what I was going to do for the rest of my life, which seemed to be growing shorter and longer simultaneously, depending upon which way I looked at things.
I hadn’t told Natalia about Claridge. I couldn’t. It was too much of a coincidence. My mind was racing about the possibility of assuming another identity and just shacking up with Natalia and her son, and the aunt there in L.A. We could be one, big, happy family. Or rather, one small, very private and discreet family.
Fortunately, I didn’t have too much time to dwell on any of it. It was too late to get to the safe deposit box, but Natalia had to go back to the hospital with some gear for her son and aunt.
I drove one of the other cars at the house back to the hospital with her and the gear. It was past visiting hours by the time we arrived, but after calling ahead, Natalia had arranged to go up.
“You don’t have to come up, really,” she said. She was suddenly guarded, awkward about me even being there. I felt the hourglass of emotions turning the other way.
What is it now?
I couldn’t yet come to terms with the concept of reading others past the point of their intimate wishes, not accurately anyway. I thought me being with her was what she wanted. Now she didn’t. I was beyond confused and starting to get annoyed again.
She read me easily, coming in for another snuggle, and she let me know it was just for now, while she was with her son for a bit. They would let her stay the night, so I could go and come back later.
Gee thanks!
She’d given me the keys to the car and the house, a big trust there. And so I had to perform another alien maneuver of maturity, and accept kissing her softly and telling her I hoped her son and aunt would be fine.
Watching her disappear into the elevator, left to my own thoughts again; I was alarmed at how quickly they turned to running away, to doing the wrong thing. I decided to just get in the car and drive for a while. It was a warm night and some air in my hair with some tunes seemed like a good idea to clear the cobwebs. Plus, I was hungry, and something to eat was long overdue.
It took a little while to find the SUV we’d driven up in, but I clicked my way back in, started the car and was just backing out when I felt my heart in my throat.
“Good evening, Michael, I hope I haven’t caught you at an awkward moment? It seems Miss Bernardi, or is it Diamond, is having some family troubles. I do hope everything is alright.”
I had braked hard, jolting both of us, but he was unfazed. I fumbled under the seat, because every gangster car has a piece under the seat.
I heard the click of the hammer. “I really wouldn’t trouble yourself, Michael. I have it right here. Drive.”
I sighed and turned myself forward again. Before I moved one inch, I felt I was entitled to at least some sort of explanation. “Look, Claridge? Whoever the fuck you are, you’re fucking with the wrong people. I remember you from a drug deal, you’re a player, I get that. My family, Ms. Bernardi’s family are…”
“Sworn enemies. Certainly not someone you should be fucking, I would hazard to guess!” He spoke over me without effort, pressing the barrel of the pistol to the back of my neck. The cold steel forcing a line of sweat to run down from my hair and past my neck. “Now drive,” he said, collecting his calm again, but keeping the gun to my neck.
I drove, following his directions. And I was lost in no time. Not being familiar with L.A. freeways, especially at night, we could have been on Mars and I wouldn’t have been any wiser. My periodic looks in the rearview seemed to interest him. He was clearly waiting for something, and some time to pass before he told me anything.
Finally, I felt the gun leaving a deep, circular impression in the nape of my neck as Claridge settled back into the rear seat, adjusting the air conditioning to his liking. I could see the gleam of the dark steel barrel flashing as the overhead streetlights danced across it, strobing a warning that I knew I mustn’t forget. This guy was no small-time player. He knew who he was messing with and he didn’t seem to mind. That fact actually scared me more than anything.
“Next exit, that’s it. Good!”
We drove for another twenty minutes or so before he started to talk. His voice that seemed like it would be usually muffled and soft, was strong and clear, filled with fact and authority. He had raised his voice slightly for my benefit, but it was impossible to tell if he had a natural speaking voice. Every time I had heard him speak, he sounded slightly different. His looks too, they were purposefully vague. His glasses and a trilby hat were hiding what might have been pointed features, or they could’ve been blunted, flat features. His face might have been long and thin, or round and plump. It was impossible to tell.
Even before he had begun to speak, I had doubted, then reaffirmed to myself that this actually was Claridge in the car with me. It was something about his energy, his vibe that convinced me this was the man himself. He had a dryness about him, not like dead leaves, but a chemical dryness, like liquid nitrogen. Something interesting to look at, but could maim or even kill you if it was handled directly, or in the wrong way.
He chuckled softly to himself, easily reading my thoughts. Something I found more disturbing than anything. I had always prided myself on being able to read people instantly. This guy was like a vacuum. You could throw anything at it, but nothing came out unless it was planned. Unless he had figured that it was something else that was going to happen.
“Michael, I do owe you some sort of explanation…”
“It’s Mikey,” I growled, trying to sound fierce, the words falling at his feet, failing to even reach him.
He cleared his throat. “Your mother and I always referred to you as Michael.”
He deliberately paused and even preempted the swerving of the car as I spun around. The gun was held level to my face, even as the car pitched and jerked as it swerved between three lanes.
“Just drive, Michael, nice and easy. I’ll tell you some of the story, but you simply must stop acting like an infant.” I felt myself blush with anger and embarrassment. I felt like I was five years old again.
“Tell me how you knew my mother!?” I demanded, keeping my eyes forward, gripping the wheel tighter, now fighting the urge to turn around again.
“All in good time, all in good time, Michael. First, I have an interesting --no, a lucrative proposition for you. One so great, I doubt even you could refuse it, or even screw it up… completely.”
He seemed amused by his own wit and I could see a narrow row of small white teeth chattering silently in laughter in the reflection of life behind me. The play of freeway lights mingled with the shadows of this strange man, which had a terrible effect on my own power, my own senses. I was used to casting the spell, not being under it.
“All I need, Michael, is a list; a complete and accurate list, of the offshore trustees who hold the majority share of the family’s business.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he had started again. It was clear this was a one time, kinda doing me a favor speech. He began to speak over me again, quashing the first few sounds that had escaped my lips.
“You will receive one million dollars in advance, after accepting the deal’s terms, of course. The remaining figure, one hundred and ninety-nine million, will be held in escrow, released to you personally upon completion of the verification of the parties on the list and the execution of the necessary financial transactions to secure the majority share of the holdings of all family business interests to me, personally. It’s quite easy Michael, I just need a list of names and addresses.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pulled across three lanes, ignoring the screeching of tires and honking of horns as I skidded to a rough halt at the side of the freeway in the emergency stopping lane. I spun ‘round, confronting Claridge, baring my own teeth this time.
“You are fucking scum, Claridge! I will never rat out on my sister, her business is her who
le world, it’s the glue that holds our shitty family together. All I have to do, Claridge, is make one phone call, one! And your life isn’t worth shit anymore, not even two hundred million could save your ass right now. Why? Because you’re a fucking dead man! How dare you kidnap me only to suggest I should rat out on my own family!”
Claridge had cocked his head to one side, cracking a vertebra in his neck. He sighed, patiently, then looked at his watch. “Michael, I do apologize if I wasn’t clearer from the outset. I don’t want you to spy on your own family, no!”
“You don’t?”
“No! I want you to infiltrate the Bernardi’s. I want their list.”
As he raised his eyebrows in a friendly and inviting question, a proposition, I felt myself considering what I could do with two hundred million dollars.
Twenty-Four
Natalia
The sight of a cop at the doorway of Felix’s hospital room sent me into a panic. I was hardwired to avoid the law.
“Ms. Diamond? I’m officer Blakeney. I’ve taken a statement from your aunt and we have other officers interviewing the witnesses. There will be an officer here at the door all night, so rest easy.”
Rest easy? Well, I had to try out the Ms. Diamond act at a higher level at some point… so here goes…
“Thank you, officer. It’s a relief for all of us to know that. I appreciate everything that everyone has done so far.”
I was annoyed at my emotions spilling over again, but crying was the surest way out of most situations. Blakeney tipped his hat and gave the straight-line cop smile of reassurance, without committing to further conversation as he resumed his post. He began sitting down in a chair by the door. Knowing there was at least one gun between my son and the rest of the world was strangely comforting.
The camp bed was replaced with a hospital bed, we had late night cocoa and Felix had won everybody on the ward’s heart. My own was swollen with pride and admiration at how brave and brilliant he was through all of it. I had to stop hugging and kissing him so much, I told myself. It was cramping his style. I had to let him shine, to have his moment with all the hospital staff and the numerous other patients who couldn’t help but be drawn to him, like starving men and women following the scents of delicious foods.
