The Heist

by LLC Dark Hollows Press

  Petra felt ill. The large man, the one who everyone treated like Royalty had picked her out himself. The other men with him chose their ‘victims’ and soon the four of them were hauled over to the changing rooms where a harsh looking woman shouted at them, gesticulating. Petra and the others couldn’t understand the language, but they had learned that certain words meant that if they didn’t please the man, they were as good as dead.

  Petra glanced over at the girl standing to her right, and offered a reassuring smile.The girl was shaking more than she was, and Petra hoped for her sake that she would overcome the nerves long enough to remember the dance that had been beaten into them to learn over the past few weeks.

  As the lights start flashing and dry ice filled the stage, Petra stood tall, and walked out onto the stage with the other three girls. They were all dressed in partial pinstripe ‘suits’ that barely covered their breasts, hips and thighs — fedora’s and umbrellas. As the routine started, Petra kept counting in her head so that she could keep in time with the music. It didn’t matter if the others got the dance wrong, she wasn’t giving anyone the excuse to give her another punishment today. The girls swayed their hips until they reached the front of the stage, turning their heads to the crowd, and plastering on a smile as they gyrated to the music.

  “How are you liking our entertainment, here in Mexico, Alfredo, eh? Our pussy wet enough for you?”

  Snr Belcastro hit the back of the smaller man’s back as Martinez winked then laughed, throwing money onto the stage as the girls performed. The other man answered, but Shuggie, watching from his vantage point, wasn’t interested in him.

  Only Belcastro.

  “You will not get looked after this well back in Sicily, I guarantee you.” Snr Belcastro took a drink and turned his attentions to the dancers. “These are the finest Russian stock, just fresh in. They aren’t as skilled as I’d want them, but I am training those two myself.” His ugly laugh almost made Shuggie vomit, he could not imagine the horrors that these women had to endure.

  Petra faced the crowd, keeping her eyes front, although she knew that the cigar-man was staring just at her. On cue, she and the other girls lifted their umbrellas high above their heads horizontally before opening their legs wide and reaching back to thread the umbrella’s through their open legs, on hand behind one hand in front as they dip and rub their bodies back and forth over the length of the umbrellas in time to the music.

  This earned leering cheers and cat-calls from the men, which made her skin crawl.

  As they discarded the umbrellas, Petra and the nervous girl turned their backs on each other and both slowly bent at the knees wind down to the ground, their hips swaying as they synchronised unbuttoning their short jacket tops, before snaking back upright to turn and remove each other’s jacket, sensually, letting the crowd whip up into a frenzy at the sight. Petra wanted to spit on the men — claw their smug sneering faces with her nails — but she wanted to live, and that meant dancing, stripping and pleasing these animals until she could find a way out of this hell on earth.

  Shuggie’s anger was almost palpable as he continued his surveillance of Snr Belcastro. He was busy telling Martinez what he had in store for two of the girls on stage afterwards and shouted approval as the dancers who were now only dressed in their fedora’s, matching bra and panties, stocking and suspenders and lethal heels as they bumped and grinded on the stage. Shuggie had almost had enough and was going to call it a night when Snr Belcastro’s conversation turned more interesting.

  Snr Belcastro smiled over at Alfredo, and beckoned him closer as he spoke.

  “You heard about our little trouble some months back? The robberies, well, the attempts. No, they never got away with shit, but we found out who was behind it,” he paused to take a few puffs of his cigar, tilting his head to the side as he watched the girls strip and dance right in front of him. “It was that Greek — the one who proclaims to be a Commander. Yeah, the stupid bastard was arrogant enough to think he could offer his services to catch the thief, but all the time it was him! I had him killed for his impudence. No one crosses a Belcastro.” Sneering, he stubbed the cigar out on the table and leaned forward, snorting a line of coke as the seams of his trousers took the strain.

  Shuggie smirked to himself at the way Snr Belcastro was trying to play down just how skilfully Alicia had robbed from him — and at the description of Xavier, and his alleged ‘demise’.

  Sticks and Stones, he thought ruefully and ordered another beer.

  The spotlight circled, and fixed on Petra as the crowd whistled and cheered. As the room darkened once more, the beam settled on her once more, and she could hear cigar-man’s voice over everyone else’s. She was glad that she couldn’t understand what he was saying - everything about him was danger and cruelty. Petra tried to keep calm and perform as she had been taught. As much as her mind and body protested, if she didn’t the alternative wasn’t something to think about. The nervous girl that had been beside her on the stage had finally burst into tears and stood shaking, looking lost on the stage. She had been swiftly removed by a huge wall of muscles in a black t-shirt, and Petra knew deep down that no one would be seeing that girl alive again.

  As the lights nearly blinded her, Petra moved her body to the beat, pulling the zipper of her too-short skirt down, and kicking it away in the direction of cigar-man. She brought her fedora down to cover her bra before flinging it out in the same direction. Cigar-man gave her a look that made her stumble. Petra covered up her mistake quickly, shaking her hair loose and putting a fake smile on her face as she lowered into a crouching position, her back straight. Slowly, she opened her knees to demean herself completely, her pussy just inches away from cigar-man’s face, but luckily for her, he was engrossed in conversation with the other men, so didn’t make a grab for her like she had seen him do to other girls before.

  “I let the Greek think he had fooled me and then…” Snr Belcastro drew a finger along his chubby neck, grinning. “Anyone who is dumbfuck to think that they can take on the Belcastros and live, are really just asking to die,” he laughed and rubbed at his nose, his small eyes sparkling as he held court.

  Shuggie gave a derisive snort at hearing Belcastro lie about having the Commander killed. He knew the old man was trying to save face. It wouldn’t look good for him if the truth that Xavier had ended the contract between them and disappeared from his radar got out to his associates and competitors.

  Still, he had to laugh internally at the shit Belcastro was spouting.

  Martinez was making a call on his cell, but Alfredo was hanging on his every word and was encouraging him to continue.

  “We Belcastros have a fine tradition of defeating our enemies! You ask anyone from the Old Country and they will tell you how fearless we Belcastros are — our name is mentioned to children like the Bogeyman,” laughing as his whole body jiggled in a disjointed spasm. “In fact, the Greek is lucky I didn’t ‘Carberletti’ him, eh, Martinez?” Snr Belcastro called over to Martinez, then sat back, his eyes pawing over the girls on the stage, saliva on his chin and his chest wheezing slightly.

  Quickly putting his cell away, Martinez laughed and nodded.

  “Yes Boss, he’s very lucky. Last thing anyone wants is a ‘Carberletti’.” He caught Alfredo’s confused expression, then turned to Snr Belcastro. “You want me to tell him Boss?”

  “It is my story to tell, Martinez,” Snr Belcastro scolded as he hesitated for dramatic purposes before clearing his throat. “My grandfather was a formidable Boss. He ran the North of Sicily like no other before him, and his enemies either moved out or were disappeared. The most impressive of his clearances was the family Carberletti.”

  “The father was Alessandro, and he had already built a very lucrative business. Other families were envious of his power and influence and he had started earning the respect of the elders. Well, my grandfather decided that he wanted Alessandro’s business, and when he refused? Not only did Alessandro meet his end,
but his wife, son and daughter and all the extended family — even their staff — were executed,” Snr Belcastro whistled. “All wiped out, extinct! Anyone even saying they had a connection to the Carberletti’s didn’t live to see another day, and that my friend, is why we call it a ‘Carberletti’. We will wipe out a family line in one swift move.” A smug self-satisfied smile formed on Snr Belcastro’s purple face as he judged Alfredo’s paled complexion as the appropriate reaction to his story.

  Shuggie hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Dirty Fucking Bastard.”

  He had heard every word, and suddenly understood just why it was that Alicia wanted to bring Belcastro down so badly. How she could deal with the knowledge of what that family had done to her own, and to deal with it alone and with such dignity made Shuggie respect and understand Alicia more than he did previously. He also knew that when he told the Commander what Belcastro had said, all hell would break loose. He was already protective of the youngling, but in light of this news? There was no telling how murderous he would become. The party seemed to be breaking up, so Shuggie stood up and started to make his way out of the club. He didn’t want to be seen by any of Belcastro’s group, and there was nothing he could do to help the enslaved woman tonight. For now, he needed to get back to base and report to the Commander.

  They had much to discuss.

  Petra ran to the back of the stage as soon as the lights went out and the music stopped, heading straight to the grubby, smelly bathroom beside the storeroom. She flung the door open, and lurched over the toilet, emptying her stomach. The wrenching of her stomach hurt her, but she couldn’t stop. Just as she lifted her head to turn on the faucet to wipe her mouth, she caught a whiff of the cigar.

  He was coming to get her.

  Chapter Fifty Four

  “I don’t see how bringing me here is helping me bring down Belcastro! Don’t you look at me like that, when did you become all tiger cub eyes for Commander Prick? Yes, I know what he said that I need combat training before I go after them la la fucking la! Anyway you’re a tiger, you don’t get an opinion here Frazzle!”

  Alicia crouched down on her knees and placed the little custom made black ear defenders on the white Bengal tigers head. Once satisfied his little hearing wouldn’t be affected she spun around, pointed her left hand up to the window and with precise shots, fired bullets at the ten empty Scotch bottles that were lined along the window frame.

  “I hate being bored Frazzle.” The cub was now lying on his back with an equally bored expression on his face.

  Closing the door to his bedroom and throwing himself onto the bed Xavier kicked off his shitkickers, then slowly opened one eye scanning the room, then the other.

  Sitting up slowly, he cursed under his breath. Someone had been in here.

  The room looked tidy enough to the casual observer but he knew — he just knew —that his belongings had been moved. Standing up to walk over to the wardrobe, his hand reached for the handle, but just before he pulled it open, there was a smashing of glass and a whoosh of air close to his left ear.

  Turning sharply, looking in the direction of the open window, he stared at the shattered Scotch bottle that had been perched on the windowsill, then looked behind him to the wall, where there was cracked plaster and a rather small puncture mark, with a bullet casing lodged inside it.

  “What the Fu…? Alicia!” Growling Xavier walked over to the window and saw the small ‘weapon of mass destruction’ loading up and aiming to fire again he barked, “You’re fucking lucky those bottles were empty!” Glaring down at her, before adding, “Get your ass up here, now, Sweetcheeks!” There was a crunch of broken glass underfoot as he started to clean up the mess.

  Alicia rolled her eyes as she clicked the safety catch to her weapon, slowly bent at the waist to place the gun into her boot and scooped Frazzle into her arms. With a leap she was sitting on the window ledge of decaying building also known as home.

  “You roared for me darlink?”

  Ignoring her, he continued cleaning up the collateral damage, counting in his head how long it would take for her to finally comply with a simple goddamn instruction. He pointed to his bed.

  “Sit down, and that’s not a fucking request.”

  Alicia waltzed past Xavier, let Frazzle out of her hold where he padded over to the corner of Xavier’s room.

  “You won’t mind if I lie down will you Com-an-derr? I’m bored out my box here —and why the fuck are you so grouchy? You needing some ‘leopard’ time?”

  Alicia smirked to herself as she belly flopped onto Xavier’s neatly made bed, her boots swinging behind her head as her chin rested on her hands.

  Knowing that was a dig towards his ill-advised un-date with the real ‘Friera’, Xavier grunted in response, grabbed the edge of the blanket on the bed and pulled hard, throwing Alicia unceremoniously off and onto the floor.

  Fixing the blanket neatly onto the bed again, his wolf started it’s now familiar chant of “mine”. This combined with the fleeting image of putting the rebellious little pixie over his knee and spanking her for all the trouble she’d just caused, didn’t help keep his mind focused on being angry with her.

  “Grouchy? You nearly shot my fucking ear off, Sweetcheeks, so I think grouchy is the least of my problems, yeah? How the hell can you be bored when you should be training to go into battle against Belcastro? I swear to fuck I have never met anyone as irritating and out of control as you” or as sexy. Damn that wolf, Xavier thought, he needed to get it a fucking virtual muzzle.

  “Oi you fucking prick!” Alicia rose to her feet from where she had been thrown to the ground and stalked towards the giant male in front of her, raising on her tiptoes, she prodded his chest with her forefinger. “I’ve been training hard and I never actually hit you did I? No, I didn’t and do you know why soldier boy? Because I never miss my intended target and those bottles were said target, so get off your fucking low cow and chillax.”

  “High horse, not low cow,” Xavier corrected her, smirking a little. The fact that his wolf found her mistakes so damn cute, was something he would definitely keep between him and it. “And the reason you didn’t hit me was that you were too damn distracted with that mutt,” looking over at the tiger cub, “so we can add criminal damage to your growing list of misdemeanours.”

  As he spoke, Xavier was taking slow steps forward, forcing Alicia to walk backwards, trapping her between him and the corner of the bed. He reached down to push a strand of loose hair back behind her ear, his fingers ghosting over the slim column of her neck. Narrowing his eyes, he stilled as he found he was reluctant to let the tendril of hair free from his touch, then remembering himself he snatched his hand back, and cleared his throat.

  “When you’re preparing for war, Sweetcheeks, there is no time to chillax as you put it. I need to make sure you are battle ready, yeah?” His hand reached up again to wind her soft brown curls around his finger, distracted by the feminine scent of her body which was starting to make his wolf impatient.

  With the bed and Xavier trapping her Alicia felt the now all too familiar racing in her heart, the flow of blood sounding like thunder in her ears as Xavier’s scent teased her nostrils. She knew she was moving but couldn’t stop herself as her body got closer to his.

  “If we are preparing for war then why aren’t you spending more time with me Xavier?” The ‘R’ of his name rolled off her tongue, hinted with seduction thanks to Alicia’s Italian accent.

  He was touching her — well her hair — but she was doing nothing to stop it. No moving away, just getting closer. His strong hand cupped the back of her head, thumb brushing her jawline as he lowered his voice, the husky gravel tone making Alicia shiver slightly when he dipped his head to talk into her ear.

  “I would spend every waking minute of the day and night with you, Alicia, if I could ensure your safety.” As he spoke, Xavier moved closer to her, putting his other arm past her and leaning the flat of his hand against the window f
rame. “But you don’t seem to be able to stand ten minutes in my company without wanting to bust my balls, so you’ve got me between a rock...” moving his body against hers so that his hips and chest rolled against her, “… and a hard place.”

  “Maybe if you gave me some credit and didn’t keep me locked up like a caged elephant…”

  Oh duck he’s hard

  With a mind of its own, Alicia’s body was moving once more. She was rising further upwards on her tiptoes, the brown of her eyes meeting the shining green of Xavier’s. This was a new shade, she thought as she gulped hard.

  Xavier honed in on the way Alicia’s throat worked as she swallowed, the pad of his thumb brushing over her lush bottom lip as he subconsciously licked his own. The timbre of his voice had lowered again, so that he was almost growling into her ear. Closing his eyes he inhaled deeply as his wolf was baying to be set free.

  “Alicia, I am demanding of you because I know you can take it, I force you to rise to challenges because I know you have it in you. Sometimes I need to ram as much of my experiences into you as I can so that you can soak it all up like a sponge. I want you wet with my knowledge.” The innuendos were deliberate as the heat between them was starting to scorch his skin.

  Alicia’s head was slowly tilting to the side, she was pushed as far as her tiptoes could go, she was aware that their bodies were touching almost moulding together. As she exhaled, Xavier started to pull back, his hand still firmly entwined in the hair behind her head, slowly lowering his other hand to barely trace down her shoulder, arm, resting on her hip with a bruising, possessive grip. As he looked down he focused on her lips, memorising every curve and dip of her cupids bow, as his own parted slightly and he leaned down, feeling her hot breath on his face.