by Never, M.
Shit, I needed that. I lean against the wall, still bent over with Valentino inside me, until I catch my breath. Until we both catch our breath.
“Jesus.” Valentino finally pulls out and rests against the stall door. I right myself, pulling up my pants and zippering my hoodie as he discards the condom and closes his fly.
“The rest of the money will be deposited by the time you leave the club.” I fluff my hair and smooth my clothes before I try and exit the stall.
“Hey.” He blocks me, laying his hands on my arms. “What do you say we forget the payment and you just give me your number?”
I suppress a smile as I gaze at his handsome face. I’m such a sucker for pretty green eyes.
“You asked me why I pay for sex.” I grab just below the collar of his leather jacket. “I’m not really the relationship type of girl. My life is messy, and this is clean.”
“I think I just proved I don’t mind getting dirty.”
“You definitely did. No number, but maybe a repeat customer.” I press a lingering kiss on his lips.
“I really want to see you again,” he pushes the issue.
“This wasn’t a date,” I remind him.
“A guy can dream.”
“I’m flattered.” I unlock the stall. “But I have to go.” I slip by him and leave him to fend for himself.
I exit the bathroom like a dead weight has been lifted off me. I know the feeling won’t last long, so I’ll enjoy it while I can.
I snake my way through the club, the crowd now denser than it was before.
I scan the dance floor for Claudia. I’m not the best salsa dancer, but I can hold my own when I shake my ass next to hers. Which I’m itching to do.
I spot the guy she targeted earlier, but he’s still at the bar drinking alone. His demeanor is different though. He’s not laid back like he was when we first arrived. He seems agitated now. Tense, annoyed. I can tell by just his body language and the way he sips his drink. Guzzles is more like it. My defenses go up. Where the fuck is Claudia?
My search becomes a little more stringent as I scour the room. Strobe lights obstructing my vision now and again as they cross the path of my eyes.
Then I spot her, in an obscure corner. A dark, unnoticeable corner, and she’s not alone. My defenses go from alert to attack when I see her pinned against the wall. I stride across the floor, bumping shoulders with anyone in my way. I measure up the guy who has Claudia trapped in a body cage. I pick up momentum as I approach him. He’s a jacked motherfucker, but every brick shit house has a weakness, and I know them all, so I’m not overly concerned about his size. With a swift kick, I take out his knee, disturbing his balance so I can knock him onto the ground. He goes down hard, just like a ton of bricks would. Claudia’s shocked face says it all as I grab her hand and pull her away. She can explain what happened later. We don’t make it more than three steps when I feel a hand land on my shoulder. I don’t think, I just react, throwing an elbow back, I smash him in the nose. I feel the crunch and hear the crack as his septum shatters.
“Fuck!” he screams as he covers his face and blood seeps through the fissures in his fingers.
“Next time,” I hiss as he’s hunched over, “I’ll break more than just your nose.”
“Bitch,” he chokes.
“Damn straight,” I gladly own the accolade.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Claudia yanks on my arms as two juiced bouncers close in on us.
We run out of the closest exit and in the direction of the parking lot. Once safely inside her car, we both breathe a sigh of relief.
“Who the hell was that?” I ask as she starts the ignition.
“My past coming back to haunt me.” She peels out of the spot, thrusting me back against the seat.
“Take it fucking easy, Speed Racer!” I laugh.
“I could say the same to you!” She cackles. “You broke his damn nose, crazy bitch!”
“He had his hands on you!” I defend my actions.
“I know. You’re my hero.” She bats her long, black eyelashes at me.
“Was he one of your brother’s friends or one of your exes?”
Claudia chews on her bottom lip as she looks ahead at the road. “Both. Jacko just got out. I haven’t seen him in years, but I guess he thought he still has some kind of claim over me. Fucking caveman. He saw me dancing with Hector and ripped me right off the dance floor. Asshole. I really liked him, too. We were totally connecting. And then poof, once again my past derails my present.” Claudia bristles. “Hector even tried to defend me. It was really sweet, actually, but one death stare from Jacko, and he backed off. I sort of wish you broke more than his nose.”
“I would have if we weren’t in public.” I curl the corner of my mouth up deviously.
Claudia’s dark eyes widen as she looks over at me. “I believe you.”
A heavy, sobering silence blankets the small space before we both crack, giggles smashing the uncomfortable quiet.
“So where are we going now?” I ask as I wipe a tear from my eye.
“My place. I have a bottle of tequila and two fatties with our names on them.”
“Sounds like my kind of party.”
“I know it is.” Claudia and I continue to laugh all the way home.
“CHICA.” CLAUDIA NUDGES me, but I ignore her.
“Go away, I’m sleeping,” I roll over and mutter irritably.
“Chica, your phone has been ringing off the hook. Answer that shit already.” She kicks me in the thigh.
“Fuck! Give me it.” I raise my hand, and she places it in my palm. I throw it across the room then bury my head under the pillow.
“Seriously?” she bitches as it annoyingly chirps. I feel the mattress dip and then hear Claudia’s bare feet pad across the bedroom floor. “If you won’t fucking answer it, I will.”
I pop my head up, the sunlight blinding me. Fuck, too much tequila. I will never learn. Claudia drinks me under the table every time. “Who is it?” I ask with one eye open.
“It says G.” She shows me the screen.
Double fuck.
“Give me.” I reluctantly lift my hand.
Claudia once again slaps the phone into my palm and walks out of the bedroom. The letter G is permanently splashed on the screen as it continues to ring. I take a deep breath and answer. “Hello.”
“Well, it’s about fucking time. I’ve been calling all morning!” Regina snaps in her familiar bitchy tone. Always annoyed, always in a hurry, and always making you hurry up and wait. That’s G.
“What do you want?” I ask, trying to speed this convo along. Ever since Benny’s death, the only time G calls me is if she needs something.
“There’s a job. Get your ass over here. Like, now.”
“Really, now? It’s . . .” I look at the screen. “Almost noon,” I inform her disappointedly. I hoped it was earlier. Like eight.
“I don’t give a shit what time it is. Get here. Now.”
“Send a car,” I demand.
“What’s wrong? Your metro card stop working?”
“It’s a bitch to get to Staten Island from here. A car will be the quickest and easiest way.”
I can almost feel her frustration through the phone. She hates doing anything for anyone. Even me.
“Fine,” she spit’s, then click.
I smile to myself. G, you’re a fucking cunt.
“Leaving so soon?” Claudia bounds onto the bed holding a bag of chips.
“Were you eavesdropping?”
“Maybe.” She crunches away. “I’m making breakfast. You want pancakes?”
“Isn’t it a little late for pancakes? It’s lunchtime.” I stick my hand in the greasy bag and pull out a ruffled chip.
“It’s never too late for pancakes.”
“And chips?” I mumble with food in my mouth.
“You know I love chips with everything.”
I grab a handful. “I do.”
“Salt is my
vice.”
“Mmmmmm,” I agree. “And tequila and weed and men.”
“It’s why you love me. My vices are fun.”
“You’ll get no arguments from me on that front.” I grudgingly throw the covers off me. I planned to stay holed up in bed all day. So much for that plan. “I gotta go.” I slide off the mattress and look for my pants.
“They’re in the living room,” Claudia informs me.
“Did we have another panty party last night?”
“What do you think?” She points out the fact we are both dressed in our tops and underwear. “You performed ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ six times while standing on the couch.”
Oh, shit. I actually blush.
“They say in heaven love comes first.” I make fun of myself, and Claudia throws a chip at me.
“You’re an idiot.”
“And that’s why you love me.”
“That, and you can beat up all my ex-boyfriends.” Crunch.
“I’m good for something,” I mutter to myself as I walk out of her bedroom. I grab my jeans off the floor and head for the front door. We really did have a panty party last night; her apartment is a mess. Pink throw pillows everywhere, blankets on the floor, an empty bottle of Patrón on the table, and two dirty shot glasses sitting right next to them. I would help clean up, but I gotta jet. I’m in no mood to hear Regina if I’m late. “I’ll call you later!”
I then skip five yards down the hall to my apartment. I don’t ever lock the door, so I just walk right in. I rarely ever carry a purse or ID or keys. It’s simpler that way. No trail to follow. If someone is going to come after me, I’ll gladly invite them in right before I kill them.
I strip off my hoodie and lose the bra and panties. I take a long, hot shower to relax my muscles and mentally prepare for a conversation with Regina. Just being in her presence can be physically taxing.
Quickly, I dress in black skinny jeans, black riding boots, and a black and white striped pullover sweater. I keep my makeup light and fresh, but as I look in the mirror, I think about what Claudia said. Red is your bitch. Beneath this sugary-sweet façade is a woman who likes rough sex, hooker red lipstick, and bloodshed.
I fluff my wavy platinum hair just as there is a knock on the front door. My ride is here.
I open the door to a familiar face. “Kruger? She sent you? She must be entertaining.”
The walking Alp doesn’t delight me with a response. He just looks down at me with an impassive expression. But that’s Kruger. I don’t take it personally. He has that sunny disposition with everyone.
Kruger is Regina’s right-hand man and rarely leaves her side, unless she’s “entertaining.”
He starts for the elevator without uttering a word. I follow along. It’s pointless to try and start a conversation. He barely talks, but he is one hell of a dresser. I’ve never seen him in anything other than impeccably pressed designer suit’s. He has that whole Dwayne Johnson vibe going on with the bald head, huge muscles, dark sunglasses, and menacing presence. Most people shit when they see him.
Kruger isn’t even his real name, I just call him that because of the nasty burn on his neck. It has always reminded me of Freddy Krueger’s face.
I don’t think he appreciates the nickname, but I can’t be sure.
The ride from Jersey to Staten Island is a boring one. Even though I basically grew up here, I’m not particularly fond of the island. I don’t know why. It’s never really felt like home. And with Benny gone, it feels even less so.
A little over an hour later, we pull up to a pair of massive steel gates. I grew up in a fortress. A modern, red brick castle that Benny would have built a moat around if zoning permits would have allowed it.
I haven’t been back in months, and the same butterflies I felt the first time Benny brought me here resurrect. After that awful night. The night that truly stole my innocence.
The man who offered me a new life was so much more than just a man. He was a prince. A prince of one of the most corrupt crime families on the east coast. But the Velonas would be insulted if you called them out on what they truly are. In their eyes, they’re a corporation. An enterprise. A conglomerate of entrepreneurs. And on the surface, they conduct themselves as such. To the world, the family is a respected professional powerhouse. But underneath the beautiful, sparkly exterior is an ugly underbelly of corruption. Comprised of an army of assassins dressed in designer suit’s. Or in my case, dresses. They deal in such things as extortion, money laundering, and racketeering. You name it and the Velona family has a finger in it. Actually, an entire arm. And for years their setup worked like a well-oiled machine. Until the unthinkable happened.
Funny thing about family, you’d think they’d be the last ones to stab you in the back, but when one turns on you, it’s like twice the betrayal. Intrinsic trust and unconditional love is shattered all at the same time. A foundation that has been there your entire life, cracking under your feet like an earthquake. Disrupting everything you’ve ever known.
That’s exactly what happened when Gianni Velona made a play for power after the death of his and Benny’s father, Pasquale, the patriarch of the family. Killing Benny in cold blood so he could be the next Chairman of the underworlds board of directors.
My skin prickles as I pass through the doorway and walk through the extravagant halls of the mansion. Past the flashy gold molding climbing up the sitting room walls and the lavish French-inspired furniture. Gaudy would be a good word for the décor, but we don’t want to insult anyone, so we’ll call it grandiose. I wonder how G would feel if she knew I fucked one of her bodyguards on her beloved Versailles sofa?
Kruger and I stop in front of a door with a jeweled knob and more gold molding. Just as I go to knock, a scream erupts on the other side. Neither Kruger nor I are phased in the least. We both know what’s happening inside that room. Regina is “entertaining.”
I shoot Kruger a sidelong look. “Is she fucking serious right now?”
He just shrugs. I give her another minute before I bang on the door. “G! You better be finished cause I’m coming in.” I open the door to find Regina sitting pretty behind her office desk and the flavor of the moment fastening the last button on his dress shirt. Hello, hottie. Regina always finds the panty droppers. I sneak a quick inspection of the man candy as I stride across the room. Shaggy black hair, light eyes, gorgeous features.
“You like?” Regina catches me in the act.
“You apparently do,” I deflect her question.
But, yeah, to answer your question, I like.
“You can go.” The petite brunette in front of me dismisses her manservant. With a quick glance at me he vanishes from the room. I don’t know how she does it, but her ability to control men should be studied like a science. She’s like a two-legged siren. She’s also the other half of the duo that raised me. Regina Velona is the younger sister of Benny and Gianni. Much younger. Ten years younger than Benny and fifteen years younger than Gianni. And only ten years older than me. She’s more like a sister than a mother figure.
Benny may have taught me how to use my body like a warrior, but Regina taught me how to use it like a weapon. She’s pretty, poised, and well-mannered. She’s as close to an Italian princess as it gets. She’s also cunning, deceitful, and ruthless. Every bit as cutthroat as her brothers. Except she doesn’t like to get her hands dirty, unless she’s jerking someone off. Blood and violence makes her queasy, so she leaves the heavy lifting to Krueger and me. Which is why I’m here.
Once we’re good and alone, G pulls a file out from her desk. She throws it in front of me so I can read the contents.
I open the thin folder and scan it over. “Benjamin Sabatino,” I read aloud. “Colorado?” I’m appalled. I hate the cold. And the snow.
“Yes. Deal.” Regina eyes me the same way Benny used to. Sharp and unyielding. “There are only two speeds in life,” Benny used to tell me. “Fast and accelerate.” And that was exactly how he lived. Fast.
And he expected me to keep up. He never gave me a choice. Not from day one. Regina expects me to keep up the pace, too, even though he’s gone.
“Collect all the intel you can about the area. A private plane will be leaving the day after tomorrow.”
“Give me some time, why don’t you?”
“Stevie.” Regina slams her hand on the glossy wood desk. “Don’t fuck around. Execute and then get your ass back home.”
“Me? Fuck around? Did you forget who you’re talking to? I have a hundred percent kill rate.”
“Good. Don’t let this job break your perfect record.” She arrogantly smooths her brown bob.
“Why the hell would it?” I question.
Regina doesn’t provide me with an answer, which infuriates me. Usually, she has plenty to say, even when no one asks her opinion.
“Just get it done.” She dismisses me the same way she did her man candy.
“I will,” I huff. Did my stock as an assassin abruptly plummet? Why the sudden doubt in my abilities?
“Call me as soon as it’s over,” she instructs just before I leave the room.
I look back at her, squeezing the doorknob so tight my knuckles strain.
“I know the drill,” I spitefully remind her.
I STUDY THE blurry picture of Benjamin Sabatino. Memorizing the way his long, brown hair is tucked behind his ears and the path his thick, mountain-man beard takes along his cheek and over his lip. He has dark sunglasses on in the photo, so I can’t make out his features clearly, and the side profile doesn’t exactly help either. But I have to work with what I got. His anorexic file doesn’t tell me shit. Not an address or a friend or a hang out, so I’ll have to scout the town until I find him. This should be so fun.
There was an abundance of information on the rural area though. So, I studied up on that as much as I could in the short time I was given.
The jet lands at a private airport an hour outside Pagosa Springs. There’s a SUV waiting for me when I exit the plane. I didn’t pack much. One medium-sized duffel bag with all the necessities. Warm clothes, toiletries, makeup, binoculars, a .22 with detachable silencer, a collapsible sniper rifle, and a handful of throwing knives.
