Plain Jane and the Mafia Beast

by Sam Crescent

  At first, she tensed up, afraid of what was about to happen.

  “Are you fucking shitting me right now? She’s got to die. You can’t take her to Galiza’s home.”

  “I’m taking her home with me. I’ll deal with her there.”

  “Are you fucking mental right now? That is not going to happen.”

  “Daniel, I put up with all your shit, but now is not the time to question me.” He stopped, and her head rested against his shirt.

  Everything was getting a little blurry, and she was starting to feel sick. The pain was there, swallowing her whole.

  She took a deep breath, which burned inside her, and cried out as he jolted.

  He started to shout, but she didn’t make out any words.

  Closing her eyes, she just wanted to fall asleep.

  Her feet hurt.

  Everywhere hurt.

  Would it be so wrong to fall asleep in this man’s arms?

  Dying a virgin would suck, but in his arms, that would be pretty amazing actually. There was something about Vince. He terrified and aroused her.

  Piqued her interest and now she was going to die.

  Such a shame.

  It would have been interesting to see just how much of a monster he was.

  Chapter Two

  “You know they’ll kill her,” Daniel said.

  “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” Vince watched as the doctor removed the bullet from the woman’s abdomen.

  This was the doctor he came to whenever he needed anything done without paperwork or attention. This man knew how to get everything done, and they’d worked together for a long time.

  Doctor Alverez.

  He’d been a little confused when he brought a woman here, but that was the point of paying the fee.

  Arika was out of it. He held her bag and jacket, waiting to see what would be said. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  They’d gotten in their car, Daniel moaning about not seeing Rachel, when they’d caught sight of one of the men whose names he’d just tortured out of the guy. It had been too good of an opportunity to pass up. Parking the car, they’d dragged him down the darkened alley, and when things had gone too far, Daniel had used his gun rather than his fucking brains. Vincenzo should just kill him now, but then he’d have to explain what happened and he had no interest in drawing his bosses into this. They’d want to test her loyalty, and he had a feeling she didn’t know enough about the mafia or the life to give a good judgment.

  “What the fuck was she doing near the alley?” Daniel asked.

  “Probably walking home, seeing as she was crossing the street, but you were too busy firing bullets to even care. How did you end up a soldier? Because right now, I’m not seeing any soldierly qualities in you.”

  “Fuck you, Vince. You don’t know the first thing of what I’m capable of.”

  “I know that you shoot your weapon like it’s a fucking dick and don’t care who gets hurt in the crossfire.”

  Daniel stood toe to toe with him. “You want to go there?”

  “Gentlemen, I don’t care what problem you have, but I need you to know and understand, you fight here, and this will be the last work I do.” Doctor Alverez looked over at them. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Vince said. “How is she?”

  “She’s doing good, all things considered. Her heart and pulse rate are stable. I’ve removed the bullet and sealed the wound. She’s going to need to take it easy. From her uniform I see she’s a waitress. She’s going to have to rest and relax.” The doctor placed a large bandage across her wound.

  Vince didn’t like seeing her on the table, eyes closed, looking pale.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Vince said.

  “She’s going to need to have this checked in two weeks.”

  “I’ll bring her here.”

  “I’ll come to you,” the doctor said. “You never know who is watching, and I’d hate to be responsible for this young woman getting hurt.” He removed his latex gloves. “Please, be careful, Vince.”

  He didn’t need a warning, and he respected the doctor.

  Men and women that were pulled into this world were often killed.

  “Are you going to help me or do I need to take care of her myself?” he asked, looking at Daniel.

  “I want you to remember this.”

  “Believe me, I’m not going to forget.”

  He paid the doctor the rest of his fee and lifted her up in his arms.

  “Be careful. She’ll hurt tomorrow,” the doctor said.

  Without a backward glance, he carried her to Daniel’s car. Resting her in the back seat, he climbed into the passenger one beside Daniel.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I didn’t have much choice. You fucking shot her.”

  “Why couldn’t you have just let her die?” Daniel asked. “What makes her so special? She’s fucking plain, and an hour before you even met her, you were torturing the fuck out of another guy. See the problem I’m having here?”

  “That guy deserved to die. This woman doesn’t.”

  “Vince, I know you’re a fucking weirdo and always have been, but even you can do better.”

  He clenched his hands into fists. “You mean the whores that often suck my dick.”

  “Yeah. One good thing about the Galiza family, they know how to take care of their own.”

  “Yes, and so they pick the ripest pussy to fuck. Haven’t you ever wondered about how many men they’d had inside them? That as they’re sucking your naked cock, their throats have already been covered in layer upon layer of sticky cum. A man’s sticky cum. Let’s face it, if you kiss one, you may as well be sucking a guy’s dick.”

  Daniel looked pale. “Shit, man.”

  “When you go to these whorehouses, Daniel, many, many men have already been there. Their mouths, cunts, and asses are always on the menu. They’re loose. They don’t have anything tight anymore. Besides, I rather like the thought of the chase. When I don’t have that need to chase, I use the whores.” It had been a while since he used the Galiza whores though. He only ever went there when he didn’t have time to find his pleasure elsewhere.

  “You actually want the plain waitress?”

  “She’s not plain.” He glanced into the back of the car. “I think she’s stunning,” he said.

  “I don’t … you know what, I don’t even need to get it, okay? This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have stopped at the diner.”

  “We did good tonight. One name is scrubbed off our list of enemies to kill. You should be happy about that.”

  “Fuck you, Vince. I don’t need to hear this shit right now.”

  “I expect you’ll keep your mouth shut about Arika.”

  “Who the fuck is Arika?”

  “The waitress.”

  Daniel rubbed at his temple. “Yeah, I will.”

  “I mean it, Daniel. If something happens to her or a hit is ordered, I will hold you personally responsible for her and then I will come after you. Then you’ll get to see what happens when I have a lot of fun and not just put on a show for you.”

  “I’m not going to tell. As soon as she’s good though, you need to let her go. You don’t want a weakness lying around for someone to come and pick up.”

  “Everything will be fine. I promise.” He wasn’t a fool. He’d not lasted this long because of his good looks.

  No one ever got one past him. He was able to read people better than they knew themselves.

  Daniel drove to his home and parked up. Vince had a nice place out in the suburbs away from any mafia family. If they wanted him, they called him. Galiza liked it that way. It gave him an added edge.

  Lifting Arika into his arms, Vincenzo carried her through his home, going straight upstairs and placing her on his bed. He’d never brought a woman home.

  The whores he fucked, he did so on their turf, never bringing them home to his sanctuary. This was the place he pract
iced, trained, and enjoyed reading. He didn’t own a television nor was there internet here. He enjoyed music, that was all.

  She looked so good on his bed though, her brown hair fanning out.

  Pulling himself away, he made his way downstairs to find Daniel waiting with her bag and jacket.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Daniel asked.

  “Make it the day after.”

  “Vince?”

  “Don’t. I don’t need to hear anything. I’m perfectly capable of doing what I need to do, thank you very much.” He took the bag and jacket, then saw Daniel out. He held her jacket up to the light, and he saw the hole from the bullet. That would have to go.

  Walking into the kitchen, he put the jacket on the counter. He’d burn it in due course. Opening her bag, he started to pull out books and her purse. Opening it up, he saw she had a couple of dollars and a few bits of change. Checking her ID, he saw her name was Arika Jane, just like on her name tag. It was a rather strange name, but he then pulled out his cell phone and dialed his private contact. Within half an hour, he had everything there was to know about the woman currently sleeping in his bed.

  Her name, Arika Jane. The fact she was in the foster care system. No one knew her parents’ identity so that made sense with the last name being Jane. She was in all senses a “Jane Doe,” but they named her Arika. No family to speak of. She was twenty-one years of age, enrolled in college, taking classes in between working at the diner. She rented a small apartment that wasn’t worth the money.

  In all senses, she was a nothing and a nobody, until tonight.

  Turning off his cell phone, he walked back upstairs and took a seat, looking at her.

  For a plain woman, she really struck him hard. There was no way he could turn his back on her, especially not now.

  She’d been an innocent, crossing the road, making her way home when Daniel’s carelessness had hurt her.

  This was all new for him. He didn’t care for anyone.

  What was it about this sweet little dove that he couldn’t seem to shake?

  ****

  Pain was everywhere.

  Arika opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Her side burned, and everything seemed a little fuzzy. Letting out a groan, she tried to roll over, but again, the pain was too intense.

  Placing a hand on her stomach, she let out a scream as someone touched her hand.

  “It’s okay. You’re fine. You’ve just got to take it easy.”

  She hadn’t even realized that a light had come on and now she was staring at a man. The one from the diner. The one that kept looking at her.

  “What’s going on?”

  He took her hand and pressed on her shoulders so she had no choice but to lie down.

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Remember what?” she asked.

  Like being struck, she remembered crossing the road, and the pain of being shot.

  “You shot me.”

  “I didn’t shoot you.”

  “I was shot.”

  “You were shot.”

  She glanced down at her body and saw she was only in her underwear.

  “Where are my clothes?” she asked.

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable without anything irritating your wound.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m not at my apartment.”

  “No. You’re in my bed.”

  “In your house?”

  “Yes. You’d have to be in my house to be in my bed.”

  He sounded way too amused, and right now, she wasn’t in the slightest bit.

  “I got shot.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “I have to tell the police. Someone needs to know that there’s a madman running around with a gun!”

  “You don’t need to tell anyone anything.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t afford to be shot.”

  “You don’t have to pay for anything. I had a friend take care of everything.”

  “Do I have all my organs?” she asked. Other than the pain from being shot, everything felt all right. She’d read an article in the paper a few weeks ago about organs being sold on the black market or something like that.

  This couldn’t be happening to her.

  “You have all your organs,” he said. “That’s a rather strange question.”

  “Between getting shot and waking up naked here, I have a bit of a blank, and I’m trying to figure out what to do about that.”

  “You don’t need to do anything about that.”

  “I’ve been shot.”

  “You keep saying that, but it’s not really a big deal.”

  “Okay, I can’t think right now.” She pressed her hands to her face. “What do I do?”

  “There’s not a lot you can do. You’ll stay here. Doctor’s orders, you have to rest.”

  “I can’t afford to rest. I have to go to work. I’ve got classes. My English assignment. I can’t just sit around and be … sick or in pain.”

  “You are in pain though. We seem to be going in circles over this matter. Getting stressed out is not good for you. You need to relax.”

  “I can’t. I need the money.” She winced at how greedy she sounded. “They’ll find a replacement.”

  “If I promise that I can guarantee your job, will you please relax and take it easy?”

  “You can do that?”

  “There are a lot of things I could do. I’ll only do them if you agree to my terms.”

  She didn’t see the point in arguing with him. He’d won no matter what. “Fine. Fine.” Dropping her arms down from her face, she turned her head to look at him. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  “No. I have no plans to.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to die. Not yet.”

  “You have a plan of when you want to die?”

  “I’ve got an idea, but there’s so much I want to do before that day. I know it sounds crazy, and I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She didn’t think it was fine, not at all. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Vincenzo, but you can call me Vince. You’re Arika.”

  “You remembered my name.”

  “I did.”

  She didn’t know what to make of what was going on.

  The rumors that filled the diner as she moved from table to table suddenly flashed through her head.

  “You’re part of the mafia?” She didn’t seem to have any filter either. Slapping a hand to her mouth, she groaned as pain struck her again. Any sudden movement seemed to cause her pain. She hated that feeling. Nothing she did seemed to help.

  Being helpless was something she wasn’t accustomed to, and right now, she needed someone a lot. There’s no way she’d be able to go into work like this.

  She loved her job, even if it was long hours that hurt her feet.

  “If you want to keep breathing, I suggest you keep those kinds of questions to yourself.”

  Gritting her teeth, she nodded her head, seeing the threat in his gaze. She didn’t want to die.

  “No questions. I get it.”

  “That’s correct. It’s better this way.”

  He wasn’t apologizing. Watching him, Arika saw he wasn’t used to making excuses for his life. This man was part of the mafia. No doubt about it and now her life could possibly be in danger.

  From the frying pan into the fire.

  “I won’t tell anyone. I don’t want to die.” She spoke slowly, softly, hoping he didn’t see her as any kind of threat.

  “You shouldn’t be worrying about this. What you need to do is rest.” His gaze moved down her body.

  She became more aware of her nakedness at his assessment of her.

  Did he like what he saw?

  Taking a deep breath, she looked at him, waiting.

  “Are you in pain?” he asked.

  “Yes.”
>
  “I’ll be back.”

  She didn’t move from where he’d put her.

  The last thing she wanted to do was to give him any reason to be angry with her. She didn’t do well with a person’s anger.

  Staring up at the ceiling, she admired his plain white walls. Not a crack in sight. On her bedroom ceiling there were three noticeable cracks. She’d gotten a ruler and measured them, which she did every single week to see if they were getting bigger. They weren’t, but that didn’t exactly give her any comfort.

  Why was she thinking about her cracked ceiling when she was lying in a mafia man’s bed?

  This man was deadly.

  Serious.

  Scary.

  He returned seconds later, holding a glass of water. “Here is the medication that the doctor gave. It should help you sleep and numb the pain for a little while.”

  She stared down at the pills.

  “What is it?”

  “They’re painkillers, Arika. I have no reason to drug you. I don’t do drugs.”

  He’d given her no reason to not trust him. Taking the pills and the water, she swallowed them down, thanking him.

  “You’re not used to having someone take care of you, are you?”

  She shook her head, not really sure what to say.

  “Do you take care of a lot of women?”

  “No, you seem to be special to me.”

  She rolled her eyes, not believing a single word he said to her. They didn’t know each other. Neither of them meant anything special to one another. He worked for the fucking mafia. There’s no way she’d have anything to do with him. Her life was planned out. She didn’t want, nor did she need, any complications.

  “You’re so easy to read,” he said.

  Turning to look at him, she found him smiling at her as if watching her amused him.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “You don’t hide your feelings very well, do you, sweetheart?”

  “I … this is all a little confusing for me. I don’t know you. You’re a killer for all I know.”

  He’s mafia. Of course he’s a killer.

  She tried not to think about all the ways he could kill her without anyone finding her body.

  He took her hand, at which she jolted from the contact.

  “You’re a real mystery. Does my touch repulse you?”