by S. W. Frank
“Holy Shit!” Marchese screeched causing Carey to look up from her mystery novel inquisitively.
“What you got?” She said sliding up from a slouched position.
Marchese pointed to a sleek BMW and the two men standing at the curb. She’d seen those faces before, but where?
As she tried to recall, her partner looked around frantically. Where the hell was the FBI detail? He immediately called the Lieutenant. “L.T., what the hell is going on? We’re outside the Diaz residence and the Serano brothers have arrived. Where the fuck is the FBI on this?”
That’s it! The Serano’s were mob hitmen from Palermo. She sat the book down and checked her weapon. This didn’t make any sense. Why were they ascending the steps to the Diaz home? What connection did the Diaz’ have to the mafia? Too many unanswered questions and she wanted answers. She reached for the door-handle when Marchese stopped her.
“Hanlon wants us to lay low, he’s contacting the Bureau.” He pointed at the men, “It looks like they come bearing gifts.”
“It’s a ruse, we can’t sit here and do nothing if a hit is about to go down.”
“They know we’re here. They’ve spotted us. This isn’t a hit, it’s a cordial visit.”
She holstered her weapon, “This is getting interesting. We need to get a court order to bug the house.”
The front door was opened by a teenage girl. The men were not let in. Good!
They monitored the situation from their vantage point as a woman, Alfonzo’s mother, appeared in the doorway. From her expression she was not pleased to see the visitors. The twin on the right handed her a present and said something. Carey was anxious to know what it was. Too bad they didn’t have proper surveillance equipment in place.
Marchese’s cell phone vibrated and he answered. The Lieutenant was giving him a rundown on what he’d been told by the Bureau. Somehow the FBI lost the men near the Fifty-ninth Street Bridge an hour ago and were heading to their location. They were told to tail the men if the agents didn’t arrive and contact Lieutenant Hanlon.
The twins descended the stairs, one turned in their direction then without concern causally entered the BMW. As the car pulled away Carey saw someone peer from the window. This was becoming more interesting by the hour.
“The FBI lost ‘em and now we have to do their fucking job!” Marchese said through clenched teeth. He worked years undercover and got to know people on the street. There are inconsequential street players and professionals. The Serano’s were professionals. If they wanted to wipe out somebody they wouldn’t arrive in full view bearing gifts. They were big-time mafia protectors sent to handle sensitive jobs. The brothers were suspects in countless murders of mob informants in America and Europe. The fact they were never tried or convicted of any of the crimes was a testament to their expertise. Marchese remained a safe distance from the BMW. His summation, Maria Diaz was withholding information.
***
Freddie watched from a safe distance. The block was very active. A party was taking place at the home. He didn’t venture too close although the darkness helped shield his identity. He saw the burly figures get into a car and pull off followed by those detectives. Instantly, he stopped to let the mutt pee before continuing down the block. He strolled casually past the house to assess areas of weakness and found three. The door to the brownstone opened and he peeped inside. There were stairs in the foreground and possibly a living-room entryway on the right. The mutt barked at a bespectacled kid standing on the steps. “Shhhhh.” He cautioned and tugged on the leash.
The mutt sniffed the ground as it walked. Stupid fuckin’ dog!
Headlights at his back propelled him forward. The area was busy tonight, he’d review other options. He’d been paid for the job and sure he could leave, take-off with the money but this became personal. The Diaz punk left scars. Each time he peeled away his clothes he’d see the cut. His father scarred him once and the bastard paid for it. Yeah, he’d make him pay and his little girlfriend!
At the next block he tied the mutt to a fence then disappeared.
***
Shanda was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and eyeballing her best friend, “You’re seriously going, even after everything my dad told you about him?”
“I don’t care, I’m going!” Selange exclaimed.
Eversince, she started hanging with Alfonzo, Shanda was on a mission to discourage her from dating him. She enlisted the help of her father of all people. Selange didn’t understand her friend’s sanctimonious attitude especially since many of her male acquaintances were pot smoking thugs. Alfonzo wasn’t like those guys despite what Shanda or her father said. Alfonzo awakened an emotion she hadn’t felt before with any guy. Besides, she didn’t want to continue searching in the dark for answers. How long was it going to take for her life to return to normal, months, maybe years? Well, she decided she wasn’t going to mope around, feeling sorry for herself. She had to start living and Alfonzo made her feel just that…alive.
The nights were difficult. She didn’t want to sleep alone with the nightmares. She needed someone who understood how she felt. Alfonzo was the only one who did. She found a semblance of normalcy with him and enjoyed his company. Sure, he was tough on the outside but he was nothing like Jay. He wasn’t a thug. He was a perfect gentleman on dates and displayed a sense of humor, something unexpected due to his stern demeanor.
“My father’s saying he’s a drug-dealer and there are people trying to kill him.”
“Give me a break, as many drug-dealers you hang around and your dad’s stressing over my friend. Jay’s a hood-rat and you’re all mushy-mushy with the dude and you have the nerve to be clocking me, are you guys serious?”
“We’re trying to look-out for you.”
“Shanda I appreciate the concern but he’s your dad not mine and he’s got his priorities twisted.” She replied indignantly. How dare Mister Johnson try to influence who she dated when he couldn’t control his own daughter.
Shanda tossed her natural-looking weave over her shoulder. She was doing that a lot eversince she came from the salon. She wasn’t accustomed to the length, yet, “Selange chill, don’t get bent out of shape.” Then she changed the subject, “Jay’s coming over tonight. How do I look?”
“You look good Sha’, you know you do!”
Selange grabbed her purse, “Is it okay if I take your car. I do not want unnecessary attention tonight?”
Her friend shrugged, “ Go ahead. I plan to hang out here anyway.”
Selange rushed through the kitchen door and headed out to the garage. She was late. Alfonzo’s birthday party started over an hour ago. She ran her hands down the back of the sexy Vera Wang sleeveless dress careful not to wrinkle it as she got inside Shanda’s car. Tonight she dressed to entice. Secretly, she hoped Alfonzo couldn’t resist her...because it was getting hard resisting him.
Lights danced along the topiary as the car rolled away. Shanda rushed to the window. Her friend already rounded the cul-de-sac, “Oh shit, I forgot to tell her a guy named Freddie called!”
CHAPTER TWENTY—ONE
Alfonzo’s cousin Jessica answered the door and quickly ushered Selange inside to join the other guests. The place was packed; revelers danced to rhythmic salsa music, swaying effortlessly to the infectious beat. She twisted her body to the side as she navigated through the crowd searching out the birthday man. She clutched the small gift box smiling at familiar faces until she emerged near the kitchen. She lost Jessica and peered in the kitchen.
Alfonzo’s aunt Carmen waved, “Hola Selange! Mira Maria que ella está aquí!”
“Selange hello. Alfonzo’s downstairs with the others waiting for you!” Maria shouted over the loud music. Her high heel shoes clicked atop the terracotta floor as she carried the tray of quesadilla’s to the enormous center counter where used copper pots hung from a black metal display rack. She sat the tray down beside the other selection of colorful food and wiped her hands on a dish towel.
Maria covered the quesadillas with cellophane then removed a steaming pan from the oven. “No…no…you go have fun. I’ll send down food.”
“Si,” Carmen interjected.
The women laughed as Selange departed. “What a beautiful young woman. Alfonzo has good taste.” She heard one of the women remark.
Alfonzo took another sip of Bollinger and turned toward the staircase when a certain pair of legs came into view. He recognized them immediately.
“Whoa, who’s that?” One of his buddies exclaimed.
Alfonzo smiled, “Back-off, she’s with me.” He said proudly when Selange came into view.
She spotted Alfonzo in the dimly lit basement at the bar with some friends and he smiled. He stood out in the crowd of people in his cream short sleeve shirt and dark trousers. His arm gripped the edge of the bar as he turned on the stool to await her approach. His friends stared and she blushed under their scrutiny but sashayed in his direction with the confidence of a runway model.
Alfonzo checked her out grinning, she looked hot in the form fitting sleeveless dress and high heel shoes which displayed her killer legs. He played it cool and the muscle in his neck pulsed under the strain. The guys slowly dispersed covertly nodding their approval.
“You better keep this one,” Horatio whispered as he relinquished his spot near Alfonzo.
She waved at them before taking the empty stool at his side and announced, “Happy Birthday.”
He felt hot or was it the liquor causing the heat?
“Thanks babe, you look ni-ice.” He responded checking her out from head to toe.
“So do you.” She lifted the small box, “I have a gift for you.”
“I was hoping for a different type of gift first, “ he said and got off the stool and stood over her.
“Oh really?”
She blushed and he thought it was cute. He spread his arms on either side of her, hands pressed against the counter, trapping her on the stool. The small gift box sat on the counter ignored as he stretched his neck to kiss her. His mouth demanded a response and she acquiesced with timid passion. He retracted his mouth, “Best present I ever got.”
A romantic song played on cue. Peripherally she noticed several people move to the dance floor as she pushed the box toward him, “Don’t you want to see what it is?”
“Okay,” he smirked then unwrapped the case and opened it. His smile faded as he removed the expensive platinum Rolex watch. He hadn’t expected something this expensive. “This…this is really nice, thank you. Mucho gracias.”
“I noticed your other watches but I haven’t seen you with a Rolex.”
She paid attention to fine details. His collection of timepieces did not include a Rolex, she was right.
“Do you really like it, your initials are inscribed inside.”
He removed his Patek Philipe Celestial wristwatch and replaced it with her gift. “I love it, seriously thank you…come here.” He hugged her tight with one arm and shoved his more expensive Swiss timepiece in his pocket. “Come dance with me.”
She stood taking his hand and he backed out on to the floor with the others. His arms went about the slim waist as he moved with her to a slow song. “You could’ve brought your friend Shanda.”
“She has a date.”
His eyes went dull, “Jay?”
“I guess.”
Alfonzo’s hands slid to her hips, “The dude is trouble.”
She didn’t come to discuss Jay and changed the topic, “So birthday boy did you get everything you wanted?”
Lips lightly caressed her temple, “Not yet.”
Their bodies fused and swayed rhythmically to the slow melodic tempo. Alfonzo danced effortlessly and he moved with ease as the beat changed. The crowd became hyped and he taught Selange the fundamental salsa steps.
Jessica approached as they danced and whispered in Alfonzo’s ear.
The smile erased from his face, replaced by an angry scowl.
“Lo siento,” Jessica apologized as she exited.
“Everything okay?” Selange asked as they left the dance floor.
“Wait here for a minute, I have to take care of something?”
She nodded, “Sure.”
He marched away and she went to the bar and mixed a drink. What’s that about?
Three songs later he claimed a stool and sat a plate piled with food in front of her. “Compliments of my mom,” he said.
“Thanks.”
She consumed the arroz con pollo y plantanos and ensaladilla avidly then washed it down with a liquid concoction.
“What are you drinking?” He asked.
“A Bombshell.”
A baffled expression transformed the masculine face, he’d never heard of it. “A what?”
“Here taste it.”
He took a swallow. The stuff tasted nasty, “What’s in it?”
“Twist of lemon, vodka, gin, red wine and a teaspoon of sugar,” she said.
Her speech was slurred. No wonder she called it a Bombshell. It could kill you. Obviously, she wasn’t a drinker. Behind the bar were bottles of quality wine, rum, vodka and beer. No one but a novice would mix such a concoction. He placed this on his list of discoveries about her. Selange was definitely an anomaly.
“So….why don’t you have a girlfriend?” She asked boldly.
Alfonzo frowned and leaned his back on the bar, “I haven’t had a girlfriend since High School,” he laughed, “but to answer your question there is this woman I’m seeing at the moment.”
Selange stuttered, “Oh…oh…well…where is she?”
Alfonzo saw the discomfort and replied, “I’m sitting next to her.”
She pushed him, “You’re terrible! I was contemplating getting out of here before the drama started.”
He hugged her around the neck, “Jealous?”
“No.” She lied.
Meanwhile, he dismissed the potential drama cut short when Antonia arrived uninvited. She almost caused a scene upstairs until he surfaced and escorted her to the door with cautionary words.
Domingo made sure she left and did not come back. Instead of dwelling on Antonia, he socialized with his guests keeping a watchful eye on Selange. He disappeared for a short time and returned to find a neighborhood player getting too close. The sight upset him. “Yo, I see you met my woman,” he said aloud.
The player stepped away from Selange, “Mi mala…no disrespect.”
Alfonzo was pissed, “Este es mi mujer y no una puta, lo tengo?”
“Yo no sé, lo siento. Estamos bien?”
Selange detected tension in Alfonzo’s voice and stance. To diffuse the situation she moved to his side and encircled his waist. “That’s my song, dance with me please.”
The object of his anger seized the opportunity to flee. He didn’t want any trouble. Alfonzo relaxed, the thought of the abusive hustler trying to hit on Selange made his blood boil. The dude was notorious for hitting his women. He didn’t respect men like that. Who the hell invited Ramone anyway?
She leaned against him and he forgot about Ramone and gave her his undivided attention the remainder of the night. Around six in the morning the last guest departed and they sat together in his mom’s kitchen drinking coffee.
“I guess it’s time for me to leave, too,” she said and stood.
Alfonzo refused to let her drive home, she consumed way too much alcohol and appeared fatigued. “Stay, get some sleep and I’ll escort you home later, alright?”
Her heart beat wildly, “Is your mom okay with a woman sleeping over. She’s very religious you know?”
“Selange, my mom’s cool. Trust me it’s fine.” He took the coffee cup from her hand and placed it on the counter, “Come on, you’re not going to allow the birthday boy to sleep alone are you?”
She never experienced such an intense physical attraction to a man and quietly allowed him t
o lead her downstairs to the bedroom. He closed the door and observed her nervous expression, “Listen, I can leave the door open if you want and we don’t have to do anything. Your choice, chica.”
“No, close it.” Her eyes were trusting.
“Are you sure because if you really want to go home I’ll drive you.” He said moving toward her. He was confused by the sudden timidity. He would never force a woman to have sex. There were countless willing participants on his call list, ready and eager to hook-up. By now, they would’ve gotten undressed and been in his bed legs cocked open –but this one looked scared as a mouse.
Selange rubbed her hand up and down her arm shyly, not knowing what to do with her hands. She felt awkward and inexperienced. “I’m just a little nervous,” she admitted.
“Touch me.” He instructed as he lifted her hands and placed them on his chest, “See, I’m just Alfonzo. I’m human, not the boogey-man,” then he smiled reassuringly as he brought her close to his chest to feel his heat.
His mouth covered hers and she relaxed against him claiming his warmth as her own. He released her and quickly undressed and she could not take her eyes away from his magnificent body. He stood naked, inches from her, reaching toward her and she trusted the expert hands as they peeled down the fabric of her dress until she stood only in her lace panties and high heel shoes. She remained mannequin still, afraid to move when warm lips trailed kisses from the corner of her neck then across her collarbone in worship. Masculine hands caressed her form, becoming acquainted with the curvature of her flesh. The seductive movements of his lips as they lowered to her breasts made her weak in the knees and she held his firm shoulders afraid to let go for fear of falling. He suddenly gripped her waist and carried her to the bed where he continued the pleasurable assault. The intimacy of his mouth aroused an intense desire that caused her legs to throb. He removed her shoes then her panties.
Oh my God! Oh my God! Her mind silently screamed. Her legs opened to his probing tongue and an unfamiliar craving surfaced. It surprised and frightened her. She succumbed to the pleasure and permitted exploration into her depths. The healing scars etched on his shoulder caused her eyes to soften. During the evening he showed no sign of discomfort. Transfixed, she watched Alfonzo move away to retrieve a prophylactic from the bureau. With ease he donned the condom and joined her in bed.
