by Tessa Thorne
A spike of adrenaline hits my system and my eyes focus on the screen as I check the searches. My mouth gapes open at what I read on the screen. There are multiple news articles and a draft police report available. I open up the article on the NY Post.
Restaurateur and Family Slain in Flatbush!
“Marcello.”
I stand up and pace the length of the room, my hand covering my mouth so I don’t start screaming out curses. The article said Marcello and Angie were killed in their home late last night. The police are calling it a home invasion. An unnamed source says the crime appears to be similar to another one committed in another home nearby, just a little over two months ago.
Blood is pounding in my ears. My face feels flushed. I flex my fists by my side, wishing I had a punching bag to work over.
What was it Michael Delluci said before I killed him?
There’ll be more families killed like this before he’s through.
I sit back down and stare at the laptop screen. I can’t act on impulse. I’ve got to think this through.
Allie, please forgive me for whatever I must do.
Chapter Fourteen
Alessandra
Hush is a cacophony of loud noises. Contractors are crawling in and out of every corner. I’m having the place redone for the height of the summer season. You have to keep a club looking fresh if you want to stay hot, and the place has been bumping lately. So it only makes sense to keep my foot on the gas pedal while we’re hot.
I’m keeping an eye on the place from my office. It’s really the perfect place to make sure everything’s going okay while staying out of the way. So far everything looks on track for us to open on Friday night. It’s really not bad, being closed for only two nights we’d normally be open. And weeknights, too. I’m glad I didn’t have to close during the weekend, since that’s our busiest time.
I take a look at my phone. Sarah’s a bit late for lunch. It’s fine. I’m not hungry yet, and I’m not as much of a stickler for punctuality as my dad is. Except with my employees.
There’s a soft knock on the door.
“It’s unlocked!” I yell out loud enough to be heard over the noise.
Marco steps inside and closes the door behind him.
“Hey, Marco.” I smile. “What do you need?”
He unbuttons his suit jacket as he walks up to my desk and reaches inside. My heart leaps into my throat as he pulls his hand back out, holding a gun. He holds it low and close to his body with the tip pointed at my gut. He smiles apologetically and shrugs.
“What the hell are you doing, Marco?” I stammer out.
“It’s nothing personal.” He gestures toward my phone. “Slide that across the table, will you?”
“Is this a joke?” I manage to steady my voice. “If it is, it’s not very funny.” I turn away dismissively, half-expecting him to put the gun away and make some cliché joke about the look on my face.
“You know what?” His voice grows louder. “It is kind of personal. Now slide over your fucking phone.”
I give a startled blink, and my heart clenches at the anger in him. Suddenly the threat of that gun seems so much more real. I put my hand on the phone and slide it across the table.
I wince as he grabs the heavy stapler on my desk, and smashes it down on my phone repeatedly until it's completely smashed to pieces. He looks up at me from the shattered phone. “How the fuck did you end up with some piece of trash like Gio?” he sneers.
I open my mouth to defend him, but he talks over me. He’s not looking for me to answer. He’s just trying to vent. “I’ve been around you for what...two years now? And what do I get? The occasional smile? A pat on the back?”
“Then this fucking wannabe goomba comes strolling in, and you sling your cunt at him like he’s some fucking boss?” He shakes his head in frustration. “Fucking unbelievable.”
I press my lips together so I don’t tell him how I really feel about him. It sickens me that I ever felt good about him checking me out.
“You know what?” He grins. “After all this goes down, I may just take you as my fucking side dish. Use that pretty fucking mouth of yours the way you deserve.”
“I’d bite off your little dick if it came anywhere near my mouth, you piece of shit.” I spit the words out before I can stop myself. He comes around the table and whips the pistol against my face. It hits me like a brick and I bounce off the floor, gripping the side of my face.
I cry out from the pain and pull back my hand, and see him leering at me through my blood-covered fingers.
“A whore like you needs to watch her fucking mouth.” He spits at me. “Your dad’s not going to be around for long to protect you anymore.”
He grabs the box of tissues from my desk and throws it down at me. “Clean up your fucking face. We’re leaving in your car.”
I stand up slowly, dizzy from the hit to my head, and nearly vomit. My head is pounding, and blood is pouring out of the side of my face. I take a clump of tissues out and press them to the side of my face, keeping a wary eye on him.
The realization is starting to hit me that I’m probably going to die. My heart is pounding in my chest; my breath is coming in shallow gasps. I need to get a hold of myself. I can’t panic. I need time to think. I’ve got to stall.
“I need to wash my face.” I look to the bathroom.
Marco steps around the desk, keeping his gun on me and takes a look inside the bathroom. He gestures for me to get into the bathroom with a tilt of his head. “Keep the door open, and if you try anything, I’m going to make you wish I’d killed you a second ago.”
I try to quicken my pace into the bathroom and wash my face with shaking hands. Sarah could be here at any moment. I need to get out of here before she gets caught in the middle of whatever this shit is.
I take a face towel and press it against my face. I pull the towel back after a moment to take a look at how bad it is. The gash isn’t too deep, but it’s a head wound so it’s bleeding pretty badly. I take the bloody towel and throw it on the floor.
I look down at the sink. It’s a deep square cut out of stone. I don’t think he can see the bottom of it from his vantage point. I close my eyes, count to three, and quickly write HELP on the sink in my blood, hoping she’ll see it, and Marco won’t.
I take a fresh towel and press it against my face and walk out of the bathroom.
Marco is leering at me while he leans against the table. My purse is still on it, along with my Nokia. Thank God he’s never seen me with it.
“Alright.” He gestures at the door. “We’re going to head out the back door. If anyone stops you, you tell them you had a spill and you're going to get it taken care of. I’ll be behind you with a gun in case you think about trying anything stupid. Got it?”
I look at the gun pointed at me. A peek at the safety tells me he isn’t fucking around. He’ll shoot me if he has to. I reach for my purse and he levels the gun at my head.
“I don’t think so, princess.” He laughs cruelly. “You’ll have to leave your tampons behind.”
I stuff down the urge to yell useless profanities at him and head out of my office, being careful not to fall.
Once we're down the three flights of stairs, I walk slowly through the crowd of contractors, occasionally drawing an odd look from them. As we're about to head out the back door, Johnny, one of the security staff, looks at me with alarm on his face.
“Are you okay, boss?” He looks at the bloodied towel on my face.
“Yeah.” I resist the urge to look back, afraid to see Marco’s reaction. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I don’t sound convincing, so I do my best to put on a good face. “I fell on some equipment. Going to go get it checked out. It’s worse than it looks.”
“Alright, boss.” He smiles at me. “We’ll hold down the fort till you get back. Don’t you worry.”
He nods at Marco as we pass him and I head out the back door.
Chapter Fifteen
&nbs
p; Giovanni
The engine roars as I tear down the backwoods heading toward Allie’s house. I’ve got my trunk loaded with weapons, and a bulletproof vest on. I’m ready for all-out hell, but I haven’t decided what to do.
Part of me wants to tear into his house and rip her dad limb from limb. The other part of me wants to trust in Allie’s judgment and believe that he has nothing to do with this. I’ve spent the past month living a normal life, pretending I can be happy.
Marcello and his wife have paid the price for my complacency. They’re dead, along with my family, because I wasn’t up to the task at hand. Now all that I have left is to get vengeance.
I pound my fist on the steering wheel as I tear down a straightway at 100 MPH. The car jumps at the end of a hill and lands hard on its suspension, but I couldn’t give a shit. My dad wouldn’t think that I deserve to drive a car like this.
My mind races trying to come up with a plan. I spent an hour going through the recordings I hadn’t listened to, but there was nothing. That fucker is too careful. He doesn’t discuss business in the house, and I gave up on him too early to have tracked down where he works.
The only thing that’s gone right today is I know where Enzo is right now. I picked up the sounds of him working in his basement study. So I know he’s home. The rest of the house is silent. So at least Gina isn’t home. I don’t have to worry about her being there when I do whatever it is that I have to do.
The tires screech as I make a sharp turn and the back of the car fishtails onto the side of the road. I’m close now. Time to make a decision.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist down on the steering wheel as I pull to a stop.
My mind is racing with every possibility, but I’m too full of conflicting thoughts and emotions to come to a clear decision. I’ll compromise. I won’t go in guns blazing, but I’ll be armed. And I’ll sit down and have a talk with him. I’ve always been able to spot a lie, and there’s nothing more telling than that moment when you ask someone a direct question. In that split second, their face is an open book. Before they have time to formulate a lie, the trick is to pick a question they don’t expect.
I glance at the shotgun on the passenger seat and shake my head. I’ll stick with this plan. A pistol is more weapon than I'll need to take care of the Don. Though I bet he can take a hit.
I get out of the car, parked on the side of the road and slip through the gap in the fence. A long couple of minutes later and I’m up in Allie’s room. I climb inside and reactivate the alarm. My ear bud connects to the hidden Wi-Fi in the house and I tune it to the bug in his office. I can hear faint movements in the office. He’s still downstairs.
I open up her door and sneak downstairs and head to the basement. I stare at the heavy wooden door with the security panel I’ve already hacked into. I pull my gun out, and carefully enter in the override code, waiting on the last button. I can’t help the sound of the door unlocking, so I’ll have to be ready to move in. God help me if he starts shooting.
I take in a deep breath and finish the code. The door clicks and I shoulder it open and level my gun at Allie’s father. He looks up at me, a genuine look of shock and sadness on his face. That was the fucking moment. I don’t even need to ask the question. If he had ordered the death of my family, there would be no sadness in his eyes.
He recovers from his initial shock and looks between my eyes and the gun. He presses his lips thin, waiting for me to say something, but then takes advantage of my silence. “Did you use my daughter to get to me?”
I walk into his office, closing the door behind me and fall into a chair across from his table. “No. I didn’t even know who she was when I first met her.”
“You think I ordered the execution of your family?” There’s no fear on his face. Like he knows I no longer plan on using the gun.
“Not anymore.” I engage the safety on the gun and put it on its side on the table, and slide it midway between us.
He sits up in his chair and straightens the collar on his jacket. “If my daughter didn’t love you, I’d have you killed for pointing that gun at me. You understand?”
I look him in the eyes. “Yes.”
“You know, Alessandra asked me to look into what happened to your family.” He leans in toward me. “Did she tell you?”
“She told me she would.” I say. “But I didn’t know she had.”
“I started asking around, expecting to hear what I’d heard the first time.” His stare is powerful and unnerving. “But that’s not what I heard this time.”
I remain silent.
“Word is, I’ve been killing anyone who could flip on me,” he says. He takes his laptop and turns it around to face me. “And then I see this today.”
It’s an article about Marcello’s killing. But from the Daily News.
“I imagine that’s why you're here today.” He cocks an eyebrow at me and I nod.
“Of course, I didn’t have anything to do with this.” He turns the laptop back to face him. “Another friend of mine, and a business associate. Killed in my name, but without my knowledge or authorization.”
“Do you know who’s responsible?”
“No, but I have an idea who does.” He stands up and I stand up with him. “I asked Marco to look into your family’s death when I first heard the news, and he lied to me. I mean to find out why.”
“I take it you were responsible for the deaths of Michael, Tommy and Rizzo?” he asks.
Might as well put all the cards on the table if there’s even a small chance it’ll lead me to who's responsible for my family’s death. “They were the ones who killed my family.”
“Then I should be thanking you for clearing my ranks of those traitors.” He locks eyes with me, nods and slides the gun back to my side of the table. “And now I know you’ll be able to get whatever information we need when we find Marco.”
I take the gun back and return it to the holster tucked into the back of my pants. “I’ll do whatever's necessary.”
Enzo stands up, buttons his suit, walks over to face me and cups my face in his hands. “You understand by us having this talk, and you having heard what I’ve had to say, that you'll be required to swear yourself into my family?”
I steel myself and nod. “Yes.”
“Whatever happens between you and my daughter notwithstanding.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” He takes his hands off my face and pats me strongly on the back. “And my original warning stands. You break Alessandra’s heart, and I’ll take yours.”
I grin. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“I didn’t think you would.” He gestures for me to move ahead of him and I open the window into his office. “You bring any extra guns? I’m a felon, I can’t have any laying around for when the feds feel like doing a random sweep of the place.”
My grin grows wider and he cocks his eyebrow at me. “Yeah, I brought extras.”
As we jog upstairs my cellphone buzzes lightly in my pocket. Not loud enough to be heard, but enough for me to feel it against my thigh. I check the phone. It’s Allie’s burner.
I answer the phone as I continue upstairs. “Hey, Allie. I thought you were too busy to talk until tonight.”
“Oh my God.” It’s Sarah’s voice. She sounds like she's in a panic. Her breathing is loud and rapid. “Is Allie with you?”
“No.” I stop once I’m upstairs and Enzo comes to a stop behind me. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”
“I showed up late to meet her.” She’s crying now. I can barely make out her words through her whimpering. “The door was locked, so I asked Johnny to let me in. Her iPhone was smashed up on her desk and there was blood all over the bathroom. She wrote help on the sink…in blood. She’d left her purse behind and she had the burner in it. I’ve been calling all the numbers trying to get you.”
My heart starts hammering in my chest as Sarah falls apart on the other end of the phone. Enzo can see there�
�s something wrong from my face. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Put it on speaker.”
I put the phone on speaker. “Sarah. Slow down. Take a deep breath and tell me everything. You need to pull yourself together and help me find Allie. Got it?”
I can hear her taking deep breaths and repeating a mantra to herself. Then she speaks, in a shaky voice. “Johnny said he saw her leaving with Marco. He said she was holding a bloody towel to her head and she said Marco was taking her to get looked at after she fell.”
A look of rage flashes across Enzo’s eyes. He looks at me and sees the matching emotion in mine. I speak through gritted teeth. “Sarah. You did really good calling me. But now I want you to go home and stay inside. Don’t call the cops, you got it?”
“Yeah.” She blubbers. “Please save her, Gio.”
“I will.” I hang up the phone. I turn to Enzo. “I have a tracker on his car, so we need to get to mine now.”
I dash for the exit and Enzo follows me. He’s not as fast as me but he’s keeping up well for a man my father’s age. He doesn’t even ask as I cut through his yard instead of going for the gate. I head straight for the gap in his fence and hold it open for Enzo to slip through.
He cocks his eyebrow at me again, ducks under the loose flap of chain-link fencing and I follow him through. My car is parked on the other side, off the road.
“I’m going to have to fix that gap in my fence,” he says as I pop the trunk to my car.
“I’ll show you the other gaps in your security after we get Allie back.”
He steps by my side, claps his hand on my shoulder and whistles as he sees what I have in the trunk of my car.
“What did you expect to find here?” He laughs. “We aren’t the Narcos in Colombia, you know?”
I shrug. “I was trained to always be ready for anything. Take what you want.” I reach into the back of the trunk and pull out another bulletproof vest. “Definitely take this.”
