Scarlett and the Feds

by Baker, S. L.

  Scarlett and the Feds

  By

  S. L. Baker

  Published by Hot Ink

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Copyright © 2016 by Suzanne Sweeney

  Cover Designed by Riley Steele

  Edited by EAL Editing Services

  Though some of the places are real this is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and situations in this work are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead, or situations are merely a coincidence.

  No part of this work may be reproduced in any form, other than a brief quote in a review or article without the written permission of the author.

  All rights reserved.

  Dedication:

  To my husband Paul, You are my soul mate who inspires and motivates me every day. Thanks for having my back and being my rock. I love you!

  To Mom for always encouraging me to achieve my dreams.

  Chapter 1

  My body surrendered to the trauma of the last few hours. Luke lay passed out in a pool of his blood with only nine fingers, and I had a target on my back — put there by the Godfather of the East Coast Mob. I collapsed into Victor’s arms; even the smelling salts Scarlett, my badass alter ego, fished out of her purse didn’t work. I drifted between the two worlds of consciousness and un-consciousness. I felt myself floating and realized Victor was carrying me in his arms. I tried to muster enough strength to form Luke’s name. I pointed in his direction desperate to tell Victor to help Luke first. Victor sensed my urgency.

  “Baby, it’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

  “Luke,” I said, garbled, but coherent coming out of my blood caked lips.

  “Hawke will get him. Let me just make sure you’re safe first. Then we get you both to a doctor,” Victor said as he placed me in the back seat of the Escalade.

  I watched Hawke re-appear from the building carrying Luke’s badly beaten body over his shoulder and laid him in the very back of the Escalade. Luke was still out cold.

  “Is he breathing?” I asked, my voice barley a decibel higher than a whisper.

  “Yes!”

  “His finger, we need to get it so it can be re-attached.” I was frantic, fumbling with the door handle trying to get out. “I dropped it on my way out, it’s wrapped in a piece of my blouse.”

  “Stay here,” Victor ordered. “You’re in no shape to be walking. Hawke will get it.”

  I watched Hawke disappear back into the building.

  Hawke returned with the bloody shred of my shirt, the finger wrapped inside, and handed it to him. Both stood immersed in deep conversation. I tried to fumble with the window control so I could hear, but I need the key.

  “Fucking Cadillac,” Scarlett mumbled being less than patient with the window control, smacking it with her shoe. I stopped her short of smashing the window with her stiletto.

  Hawke nodded, handed Victor the keys, and bolted back inside the building.

  Victor slid in the driver’s seat and started the Escalade. He glanced in the rear view at me as he put the Escalade in gear.

  “What about the bodies?” I cringed asking the question.

  “Hawke will take care of them.” His tone was cold, harsh.

  Both Scarlett and I knew they would vanish in traditional Mob fashion, and no-one would ask any questions.

  Scarlett shuddered as she imagined the men being dismantled. Their teeth pulled out one at a time, placed in a small bag, and tossed in the Passaic River, any hair shaved off and burned. What was left of the bodies would be driven to some remote farm and fed to the hogs.

  I never wanted to know, and still didn’t, but my suspicions led me to believe the same ritual was carried out with my attacker that night in the alley a few months ago. The disposal of a body like they never existed was a sheer talent of the Mob, their trademark. The thought sent chills racing through my body and the pit of my stomach felt like I had been kicked in the gut by a horse.

  “We need to get him to a hospital,” I said, wincing. My head felt like it was about to explode.

  Scarlett rummaged through her purse looking for some morphine. Her heart was racing as fast as mine was. She wasn’t happy, she mumbled, “Fucking Mob!” under her breath. I wish she’d hurry and find the damn morphine. The pain was getting unbearable.

  “No hospital. What are we supposed to tell them, Angelina? That you both were abducted and tortured by the Mob? That would unleash a huge shit storm.”

  “He needs a doctor,” I snapped.

  “And so do you. I have a family friend who’s a physician. He’ll meet us at my house and take care of you both.” Victor yanked out his phone and scrolled down to he found the number and hit send.

  “Of course you do,” I mumbled under my breath. Scarlett had her arms folded and was tapping her foot. Why was she was not surprised?

  Victor was in the middle of explaining the situation to the doctor on his family’s payroll when I heard Luke gurgle in the back like he was choking on his own blood. I unbuckled my seat belt and, with my body screaming at the top of its lungs in protest, scrambled over the top of the seat to check on him. I had to make sure he was breathing. I crawled next to him, rubbing his arm to comfort him. Silent tears ran down his cheek, those brilliant green eyes flooded with fear and anger. He gurgled, coughed, and passed out again. I gasped for an instant thinking he was dead. I placed two fingers on his neck and felt his pulse. He was still alive…for the moment.

  “Drive faster!” I screamed.

  Scarlett hopped in Victor’s lap and slammed her foot on the accelerator. If she could have pushed him out of her way, she would have. “Let me drive,” she grumbled under her breath.

  Victor snapped the phone shut and pounded the accelerator. A silver Mercedes was waiting when we sped into the driveway. A tall athletic man in his late fifties with a receding hair line rushed out with Cooper and Donovan who flung open the door to the Escalade. They tried pulling me out first, but I protested and grabbed the edge of the seat, refusing to move.

  “Luke first, he’s in bad shape!” I screamed.

  The doctor and the goons carried Luke inside. Victor scooped me up like a child in his arms. Kissing the top of my head, he gently brought me into the house and laid me on the couch.

  Scarlett fluffed the pillows behind my back and took my pulse.

  “How’s Luke?”

  “I’ll check,” Victor replied, not hiding the concern in his voice.

  “His finger, where is it?” I asked.

  Victor bolted out the front door to grab it from the Escalade. He glanced at me on his way by to give the finger to the Doctor. I tried to get up off the couch and the pain radiated throughout my body. I let out a loud enough groan to bring Victor running.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” Victor asked placing his hand on my thigh. My sweet spot sputtered like an engine trying to come to life. Even in pain, the man could make me weak kneed from his touch.

  “I want to see Luke,” I said, trying to push myself off the couch.

  “Not right now. Doc is trying to re-attach his finger. You need to rest,” he said while pushing me back on the couch.

  Ignoring Victor, I tried one more futile attempt with Scarlett pulling my arms to help. Victor promptly picked me up and cradled me in his lap deterring my attempt.

  “You are staying put until Doc checks you out. Understand?”

  I nodde
d, ‘yes’ in defeat.

  “Good girl,” he said, gently stroking my hair as he pulled me close to his chest.

  My thoughts flashed to how devastated Ella would be if she saw her son at that very moment. I struggled to hold back tears. The trauma and terror of the last few hours, witnessing three men die in cold blood and the brutality of it all, was just too much and came crashing down on me.

  Victor sat silent. His expression hard and calculated, his thoughts were elsewhere. Plotting his revenge, I suspected. Scarlett had the flip chart set up and was writing down her own devious plan. I fought the urge to close my eyes, but failed.

  Luke, Curran and I were riding our bikes around the neighborhood laughing. In the distance we heard the faint sounds of carnival music playing and knew in an instant what was coming, that jingle got louder and closer, the ice cream truck. Luke rode his bike as fast as possible back to the house, grabbed two dollars, and then race back to us. The older man who drove the white, ice cream truck waited patiently for us to decided, but we always got the same thing each time. Luke had a chocolate fudgesicle, Curran and I got the ice cream sandwiches. Greedily tearing the wrappers off, we devoured our treat sitting on the curb.

  I woke up, not knowing how much time had passed, or even if Luke was dead or alive. I tried to dart up and was stopped by Victor and the Doctor. There was an I.V. in my left arm, and I was in one of my night gowns. I turned my head scanning the room for Luke.

  “Luke?” My eyes filled with tears. “…is he okay?”

  “Angelina, I’m Doctor Mayer. Luke is resting. He has suffered some severe bruising and three broken ribs. I was unable to attach his finger. I’m sorry. He will recover, but it will take some time to heal. You had a laceration above your right eye that I stitched up. The good news is that there will not be a scar. You have some bruising, but will be fine. You need to stay in bed for a few days and rest.”

  I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes again. I felt terrible about Luke’s finger.

  Scarlett flipped through the pages of her dirty joke book, hoping to cheer me up, but threw it the corner and opted for Plan B, ice cream and lots of it.

  Doctor Mayer unhooked the I.V. and I winced when the needle came out. He gently patted my arm and stopped to talk to Victor as he walked out the door. I turned away from them as the tears flowed down my cheeks. Victor rushed to my side and held my head against his chest. Wiping my tears away, he gently kissed my cheek.

  My emotions had been hit by a tsunami of what was coming. This wasn’t over. It was just the beginning. I was a marked woman. We both knew that. I had no control over my fate and that terrified me. I trusted Victor with every fiber of my being, but the mere thought of Victor taking a bullet with my name engraved on it was overwhelming. I couldn’t even fathom that thought.

  Scarlett whipped out her measuring tape, to fit us both for bullet proof vests.

  I wasn’t convinced that they would be enough. This was the Mob. They were invincible. I buried my head deeper into Victor’s chest and sobbed violently, my body rebelled against the pain, but I didn’t care. It would pale in comparison to what I imagined was in store for me and those I loved. Victor’s body was rigid, tension etched on his gorgeous features. I knew he was worried, but would never let me know that.

  “We can’t stay in Jersey, Victor. We need to lay low until this blows over,” I said in between sobs.

  “Blows over? This is the Mob, Angelina, it doesn’t work that way. It’s cut and dry. It doesn’t matter where we go. My father will hunt us down, but not without leaving a trail of bodies, starting with Nicole, your aunt and Luke, and anyone else that has any connection to you.”

  The panic in his voice sent my emotions into over drive.

  He was in crisis mode. “We are the safest here for now. That book is our only protection at the moment. As long as you have it, they will keep you alive.”

  “Then what? I can’t imagine watching someone else I love be tortured. I will cave and hand over the book. Then I’m dead.” The hopelessness of the situation was overwhelming.

  “That’s not going to happen. There is no way in fucking hell anyone will ever hurt you again. I will not ever allow that to happen.”

  ***

  I couldn’t sleep. The events of the last twenty-four hours replayed over and over in my mind. I rolled over and looked at Victor sleeping. He was so peaceful and gorgeous. I gently traced his chiseled features. He stirred and rolled over. I slid out of bed and my body throbbed. I grabbed the bottle of pain pills the doctor had left for me.

  Scarlett peeked out from under her sleeping mask, flipped me the bird, and went back to sleep.

  Clutching the pill in my hand, I slowly headed for the kitchen. Each step was a challenge. The time on the clock on the stove said 3:30 a.m. I grabbed some water and popped the pill in my mouth. I realized I had never been awake in the middle of the night at Victor’s. It was quiet in the house, but the comfort of knowing that lurking in the shadows were Victor’s goons with enough ammo to take out a small third world country. Especially now, I always wondered if there was some underground command center where the goons went to plan who got to babysit Angelina the next day. I could see them sitting around drawing straws and the one that drew the short straw got the job. Scarlett had perked up at the thought of a secret lair with all of Victor’s hot goons and their weapons of mass destruction, when I mentioned my theory to her.

  I headed down the hallway to the back of the house where the guests stayed when they visited. Victor built the house so that he would always be able to maintain his privacy. The guests stayed on the first floor in the back of the house by the gardens and his suite was on the second floor, isolated from them. Though, I had my suspicions that no one had ever stayed in those suites before now.

  Luke was in the larger of the two. It had been converted into a small ICU. There was a goon sitting outside the door. He nodded at me and pushed open the door. Luke’s breathing was labored and the beeping of the monitor was comforting. Dr. Mayer had deployed two nurses to stay with Luke until he recovered. There was no sign of anyone as I entered the room. I pulled up the antique chair in the corner to his bed and held his hand. The other was bandaged tightly. His eyes were swollen shut and the cut above his brow was stitched closed. Tears streamed down my face. The door to the suite creaked open and a petite woman in her mid-forties with auburn hair and plain features walked in.

  “Oh, you startled me! I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

  “Luke is my cousin. I want to sit with him.”

  “Of course,” she replied, checking the monitor. “If you need anything, my name is Linda,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

  I forced a smile and turned back to Luke. I could tell his sleep was tormenting and frightening as he would flinch and groan. I rubbed his arm. My thoughts drifted back to our childhood again. Even though he’d made it clear that having a girl in the house was cruel and usual punishment, I knew he loved me. I saw Luke, Curran, and I walking to the candy store around the corner with the four dollars we each made for working at Costa’s. Luke loved Red Vines, Curran favored Swedish Fish, and Peanut M&M’s were my own version of paradise.

  I smiled when I remembered the time he’d found out his buddy Ned had had a crush on me. He was so protective of me and had told Ned that if he even so much as looked at me, he’d give him a black eye or two, which was probably why my first real boyfriend wasn’t till college. Luke intimidated every single one of my potential suitors. He took the role of man of the house seriously when Uncle Sid was murdered.

  My heart ached and that feeling like I’d been kicked in the gut flashed over me like throwing grease on an open fire. This was my fault. I was the reason he was lying in this bed, beaten within an inch of his life, missing a finger. Was Luke just the preview of the events to come? The thought was more than I could handle. My head throbbed and I jumped up, ran to the bathroom throwing my hair over my shoulder, and vomited violently. I laid down, t
he coldness of the Italian marble felt good on my skin. I heard voices echoing in the distance.

  “Luke?” I tried to get the words to come out, but my mouth was so dry.

  The bathroom door hit my feet as it was flung open and Victor pushed in wearing his jeans and no shirt. Scarlett rushed to my side and put a cool wash cloth on my forehead. Linda took my pulse.

  “Mr. Salvatore, she will be fine. Did she take any of the pain pills the doctor gave to her?”

  “I don’t know,” he said not taking his eyes off of me for a second.

  “Yes. I did,” I mumbled, trying to sit up.

  “I think you had a reaction to the pills. I’ll have Dr. Mayer give you something else.”

  “No.” I nodded, trying to stand, but before I had the chance, I was in Victor’s arms being carried back to bed.

  As Victor carried me, I heard Luke moan. Linda was unwrapping his bandages.

  It was after noon before I woke up. My mouth still felt like a hot August day in the south. However, I felt better. I inched out of bed in case my pain decided to make an encore appearance. I just wanted to take a long hot bath.

  Though first, I wanted to check on Luke, my cell phone ringing stopped me before I made it out the door.

  “Shit,” I mumbled.

  Scarlett smacked her palm against her forehead. “Aunt Ella! She must be bat shit frantic worried about Luke!”

  “Hello?”

  “Angelina, love, it’s Aunt Ella.” The panic in her voice was on high alert. “Have you heard from Luke by any chance? He hasn’t been home in three days and I fear something awful has happened.”

  “He is here at my boyfriend’s house. He came to visit me and we both were involved in a car wreck.” Fuck I hated lying to her. “He’s pretty banged up and lost his pinky finger on his left hand.”