MOB RULES (James Harris Book 2)

by Richard Nesbitt

  Bonnie had the soft, glowing buzz of her third wine coming home to roost. She had also done a few shots of tequila at the bar. Now, as she felt her inhibitions heading south for the evening, she studied the man who was just a few easy feet away. She could feel his strength and knew that he might be a solution to her problem, the problem of breaking away. She also knew that the man could feel her gaze yet remained stoically “on-duty”.

  “Lighten up,” she joked with just a slight slur to her speech. “Have a beer or something.”

  “No ma’am,” the man answered. “Alcohol is a bad idea.”

  “Says you,” she laughed, tossing her hair. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  The man gave her a wry smile.

  “I meant for me, ma’am.”

  “Stop that ma’am, shit! I told you before, my name is Bonnie!”

  “Yes, ma’am…uh. I mean. I don’t think that’s a great idea either. I prefer to remain professional.”

  “Why? What are you afraid of?” She asked softly. She pouted and allowed her voice to take on a girlish lilt. Lowering her chin, she looked up at him with big, doe-like eyes. “Don’t you like me?”

  The man shifted uncomfortably. He looked down the hallway towards his bedroom longingly.

  “It’s just that it’s getting late, Ma’am. Err…Bonnie. I need to be well rested to be at my best.”

  “You look well rested to me, Mike,” she said as she smiled, allowing her eyes to dance. She looked at him over the edge of her wine glass as she took another sip.

  “And even if you’re not at your best, I won’t tell,” she said with a laugh.

  The man swallowed hard but remained silent.

  She laughed. “Oh my God, are you blushing?”

  Mike locked eyes with her.

  “Ma’am,” he spoke firmly, emphasizing the word. “I think I’m going to call it a night. The fire is low. It should burn itself out safely.” He stood.

  “You’re supposed to be taking care of me,” Bonnie pouted again. She slurred more noticeably now. “Have a goddamn drink with me.”

  “Ma’am, it’s my job to protect you. Nothing more.”

  “So take a break from your fucking job,” she spoke bluntly. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and we’re all alone. We have a beautiful fire. We have wine and beer and tequila and whisky. You look like a whiskey man to me. Am I right?”

  “I don’t want anything. I’m very tired and I’d just like to go to bed.”

  “Now you’re talking,” she laughed.

  “Good night, ma’am.”

  “Don’t-don’t you think I’m pretty?” She slurred as her mouth curled suddenly downwards. Her eyes filled with tears.

  The man let out a long breath. He looked down at the woman.

  “Ma’am, you’re going through quite an ordeal. I can see how that would make anybody…”

  He was unable to finish the sentence.

  “What?!” She demanded loudly, daring him to finish his thought. Her mood was turning ugly with his rejection and the alcohol was pushing her past the limits of normal decorum.

  “Nothing, ma’am. I just think maybe it’s time we both called it a night.”

  “You’re a fucking pussy,” she spat with disgust as she turned away from him. She scowled and felt all of her anger returning. Anger towards the situation. Anger towards Jimmy. Anger towards this asshole who wouldn’t take her up on a sure thing.

  “Okay,” Mike spoke calmly. He turned to walk away.

  “I’m s-sorry, Mike!” She said loudly. “I didn’t mean that! Come back!”

  The man stopped and turned back to face her.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “It’s just that my-my husband is an asshole.”

  “It’s okay, ma’am. I understand. But I still think we should call it a night.”

  “I don’t want to call it a night!” she said loudly. She placed her wine glass on the table and struggled to her knees. Using the coffee table to brace herself, she rose to her feet. She balanced precariously and started to fall backwards. Mike rushed forward and grabbed her elbow. Bonnie reversed course and tumbled into his arms. She hugged him and pressed her face against his chest as she began to cry.

  “Why don’t you think I’m pretty?” She sobbed, clutching at his back. “I was real pretty when I was younger.”

  “Ma’am,” Mike offered, doing his best to remain professional. “You are a very attractive woman. But this isn’t going to happen.”

  She looked up into his eyes and saw that there was no chance of turning the tides in her favor. She placed both hands against his chest and pushed him. Instead of the man moving, Bonnie staggered backwards and before Mike could catch her a second time, she tumbled onto the floor and into a wooden magazine rack with a loud crash.

  “Christ,” Mike blurt out as he quickly rushed to assist her.

  “Oh fuck you,” Bonnie spat again. “I don’t need your fucking help. You’re all alike. Every fucking one of you.”

  “You good man?” A voice asked from behind them. Steve stood in the hallway.

  On his knees, Mike turned towards his partner with a look of exasperation and gave a small, frustrated shake of his head. He reached out to Bonnie and grabbed her arm to help her up. Steve was there in a second and grabbed the other arm.

  “What are you doing?!” Bonnie yelled.

  “We’re just getting you to your room, ma’am,” Mike spoke gently.

  “The fuck you are! I’m having another drink and you’re going to have one with me!”

  “No ma’am,” Steve spoke up, taking charge. “You are calling it a night. Right now.”

  “Hey,” Bonnie slurred. “You work for me!”

  “No ma’am, actually we do not.”

  With a firm grasp on each side of her, the two men half carried, half dragged the inebriated woman down the hallway towards her bedroom.

  Danny’s door opened and he shot both men a panicked look.

  “Mom! What’s wrong?!”

  Steve threw up a hand of reassurance.

  “She’s fine Danny. Your mom just had a little bit too much wine. We’re helping her to her room.”

  “Danny,” Bonnie gushed. Her eyes filled with tears and she broke away from the two men and grabbed her teenage son. “Don’t-don’t grow up to be an asshole.”

  “Mom, what’s the matter?” Danny asked in a fearful tone. He was not used to seeing his mother like this.

  Bonnie stared at her son and saw his concern. She seemed to sober slightly as her maternal instincts kicked in. She looked to Steve and Mike.

  “I’m-I’m okay,” she slurred as she ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it back.”

  “Ma’am, do you need help into your room?”

  Bonnie sniffed loudly and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks.

  “I’m-I’m sorry, Mike.”

  “Nothing to apologize for, ma’am.”

  Bonnie’s shoulders shook as she felt herself getting emotional again. Danny grabbed her and held her tight. He looked over her shoulder to the two bodyguards.

  “I got this, guys. Thanks.”

  “You sure?” Steve asked.

  “Yeah. We’re good.”

  The two men looked at him and Mike nodded. “Okay kid, see you in the morning.”

  Danny simply nodded back and turning, led his mother to her bedroom. Supporting her with one arm, he walked into the room and closed the door behind them.

  Steve looked to Mike and raised an eyebrow. He smiled coyly.

  “Don’t you fucking start,” Mike spoke in a low voice.

  His partner let out a soft chuckle.

  “Very funny, asshole. Next time she pulls a cork, you’re on baby-sitting duty,” Mike continued.

  “Okay, man,” Steve said with another smirk. “Good night.”

  The man turned and walked to his own bedroom as Mike walked back towards the living room to clean up.

  Mob Rules

  22

&nb
sp; The streetlights bathed the asphalt in a shimmering yellow glow as night had blanketed the city an hour earlier. Harris drove home with his radar on full alert. He knew he was a target and he drove cautiously, scanning each passing alley, each passing vehicle. He had his 9mm lying next to him on the passenger seat alongside two extra magazines filled with hollow points. He checked his rear view mirror for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes.

  Rounding the slight curve that led into his neighborhood, Harris made the left onto his street. He knew most of the cars parked alongside the road as neighbors. There was only one strange vehicle that he didn’t recognize. It was in front of his house. Harris felt his pulse quicken as he reached for the gun and continued at a normal speed bypassing his house. He glanced quickly to his left and abruptly relaxed his grip on the gun when he saw who was in the vehicle.

  Hitting the brakes, he stopped and threw the car in reverse. Turning the steering wheel, he backed into the driveway and killed the engine. Harris opened the door and climbed out of his black Camaro. He walked over to the parked car just as the woman inside was getting out.

  “Hey Christi,” Harris spoke. He managed a slight smile.

  “Hey yourself, Jimmy,” she answered with a cheery grin. “How are you?”

  “Been better, kid. This isn’t the best timing on your part.”

  The two embraced. He smelled her perfume and tried not to notice.

  Christi felt the power of his embrace and a rush of familiar feelings returned. She stepped back and looked into his weary eyes.

  “You look tired, Jimmy.”

  “I am. A lot going on.”

  “I heard.”

  Harris shot her an inquisitive look which lasted a brief second. Then he rolled his eyes and grimaced.

  “Sylvia.”

  “She’s worried about you, Jimmy. So am I. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

  “I’m taking care of it.”

  “That’s one of the reasons she’s nervous, Jimmy. Can we go inside and talk?”

  “There’s really nothing to talk about, Christi.” The smile was gone from his face and he made no attempt to hide his annoyance.

  “Let’s just have a drink. I won’t stay long.”

  “I appreciate your concern Christi. But I have a lot to do and not much time to do it. I hate to sound like an asshole but this is not a good time for a visit.” He turned and headed towards his front porch. Christi followed.

  “Maybe I can help? Can’t we just sit down for ten minutes?” She quickened her pace to keep up with him.

  Harris made it to the porch and put his key in the door. He unlocked the door without opening it and then he turned back to face her.

  “Christi, I literally don’t have ten minutes to spare. If you want to help me, then please listen to me. Get back in your car and go home. I will reach out when this is all over.”

  She stared at him, doing her best to stifle what she really wanted to say, what she longed to tell him.

  “I promise,” he finished.

  “Jimmy, I drove all the way out here.”

  “I never asked you to, Christi!” He snapped. “I have enough to worry about right now! I don’t need some bullshit guilt trip!”

  Christi bit her lower lip and simply stared into his eyes. She nodded slowly.

  “Look,” Harris spoke apologetically. “I’m sorry. But if you spoke with Sylvia then you know what I’m up against.”

  “I know. I just really care about you, Jimmy. And I’m worried.”

  Harris looked into her eyes and saw the genuine concern. He understood that this went beyond simply wanting to help. He knew that she had stronger feelings that had to stay beneath the surface. He felt them as well. But there was no time for that. No time for anything.

  “I know, kiddo. I care about you too. But I need you to go home now. When this is all over we can catch up. Will you please do that for me?”

  “Ok, Jimmy,” she answered. “But you don’t always need to tackle everything alone. I’m just a phone call away.”

  Harris leaned forward and hugged her. She squeezed him warmly and whispered in his ear.

  “Be careful.”

  Harris pulled back from her and nodded.

  Christi turned and left the porch. She made her way around the curving walk which led to the driveway and then towards her car. She looked back at the porch to see Harris standing silently, watching as she left. She went into her purse for her keys.

  Both Harris and Christi heard it before they saw it. The engine of the van roared as the vehicle sped down the neighborhood street. Christi whipped her head to the right in time to see the cargo van almost upon her. She froze and heard Harris call out to her. The tires locked up and screeched loudly as the van slid to a stop beside her. The sliding door opened and three men tumbled out. Before she had time to react, two of the men grabbed the startled young reporter and threw her violently into the van. Christi hit her head on the side of the sliding door and saw an explosion of stars. Time slowed to a crawl.

  Through the haze of the moment, Christi heard Harris yelling. Dazed and in shock, she looked out of the open door to see him dive off the porch and into the bushes between his and his neighbors house. In the surreal confusion of the moment, she wondered to herself why he would do such a thing. And then she heard the loud banging of the AK-47 as the third gang member pointed the rifle at the house and let fly with a volley of lead. The deafening boom of each shot rang in her ears and seemed to go on endlessly. The man fired round after round.

  And then it ended as quickly as it had begun. The man joined his friends as they all scrambled back into the van. One of the three jumped on top of her and pressed down with his full weight. She could smell his breath. It was sour and reeked of cigarettes. It mixed grotesquely with the smell of cordite from the smoking rifle. In the next instant, she heard the tires squeal again and felt momentum throw her backwards as the van peeled away and sped out of the neighborhood.

  Mob Rules

  23

  “You guys are going to get me clipped!” Skinny Vinny’s face was beet red. He was beyond agitated and drummed his fingers nervously as he sat at the long, metal table in the back room of the meeting spot. His eyes darted from one cop to another. There were three of them in the room with him.

  “Relax, Vincent,” a captain spoke. The twenty-two year veteran of the force took a long pull on a Marlboro Red. He leaned back and blew the smoke towards the ceiling. Lowering his head, the cop stared at the mobster. He was unimpressed with Vinny’s hysterics and made it clear with a condescending look.

  “Harris doesn’t know your name. And we will never give it to him. So calm the fuck down.”

  “Harris was in the fucking pool hall! He spoke with Tony!”

  “Scalaro doesn’t know shit.”

  “He knows somebody’s talking!” Vinny screamed in anger. “Holy shit! I gave you guys that information to help save the guy’s family! I thought it would score me some points! And you let Harris go to my fucking boss!”

  “We didn’t let him do shit. He just did it.” A lieutenant spoke up.

  “Why would you even tell him where the information came from?! Why couldn’t you just tell him it was from an anonymous source?!”

  “Look,” the captain piped in. “He’s never going to know your name or who you are. We need you alive, Vinny. Don’t you think we know that?”

  Vinny simply stared at the man. It was clear that he was genuinely afraid. He knew what Scalaro would do to an informant. He licked his lips and nodded his head. Looking from one cop to another he assessed their demeanor and weighed their words.

  “Okay then,” Vinny spoke forcefully, changing the course of the conversation. “I want a new deal. I want to be relocated in Hawaii. Or the Virgin Islands.”

  “Fuck you,” the third man, a sergeant spoke.

  “Fuck me? How about fuck you, tough guy? How about I suddenly don’t feel like cooperating anymore? And
I’m just getting started here. You fucks need to keep me happy from this point on. Like you just said, without me you got nothing.”

  The room fell silent as the three cops allowed Vinny to enjoy his moment. He stared at them with a triumphant grin, the upper hand now his.

  “What do you think?” The captain asked the other two cops.

  “Gee, captain,” the sergeant answered. “He’s got me pretty nervous. I think we should give him what he wants.”

  The captain exhaled loudly, playing along.

  “Remember that mansion on the beach from the old Magnum P.I. show?” The sergeant continued.

  “Yeah,” the lieutenant answered. “I remember that place. Right on the beach in Hawaii. Sweet.”

  Vinny narrowed his eyes and stared with open hostility.

  “Maybe the D.A. can get the feds to arrange that,” the captain continued. “Would you like Magnum’s beach mansion, Vinny?”

  The other two police officers laughed loudly. The gangster continued to stare, saying nothing.

  “Yeah,” the lieutenant added. “Maybe we can even get you that red Ferrari, Tom Selleck used to drive?”

  “Who knows?” The sergeant answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s worth a shot.”

  “Very funny, assholes,” Vinny finally spoke, interrupting their fun. “Just remember, without me you got nothing.”

  The three cops stopped their laughing and stared down at the mobster.

  “Yeah, but at least we get to go home at night,” the lieutenant spoke, his voice now serious. “You try to screw with us and you can ride that heroin bust all the way down, Giovanni. You’d be looking at twenty years and I’m pretty sure Tony would whack you just as a precaution.”

  The captain smiled at him.

  “Wouldn’t he?” The lieutenant asked with a wry smile.

  Once again, Vinny looked from man to man. He tried to think of a clever reply but in the end he simply lowered his gaze to stare at the table.