She grins, but it’s sour, as if she’s not at all fooled by my offer. “That sounds lovely. Will you join us, baby?” she practically purrs, rubbing against JD.
He flushes, staring down at her. “Not tonight. I have to meet Dutch at the club. Lots to go over.”
She sighs and he kisses her forehead. “Well I suppose we’ll just have some girl time, then.”
“Great. I want my two best girls to be best friends,” he says with a little too much enthusiasm.
Best girl? I could laugh. JD was nothing if not a notorious womanizer. In our whole lives I’ve never seen him with the same dame longer than a week.
Waving toward a table, I grab a second glass of bubbly. “Let’s go over here,” I say, leading her through the crowd and towards a table in a darker corner of the club.
I make it to my seat first, and when I glance over my shoulder, I pause. JD is stroking her neck below the chin the way one might pet a cat. She says something and he laughs. There’s something in the way he looks at her, a reverence perhaps. It’s the way dames usually look at him.
It’s almost comical to see him on the giving end of that look.
Releasing him, June sashays her way to our table and takes a seat. “You really don’t have to babysit me, you know,” she says, taking a drink. “Despite what JD thinks, I can take care of myself.”
“Glad to hear it,” I offer, staring past her to the band on stage. “I’m not great at being responsible for myself—much less anyone else. I can’t even keep potted plants alive.”
That earns me a genuine smile. “Good thing then. Listen, I just want to say, I’m sorry about your mother. JD introduced me to her once. She seemed like a real fine lady.”
I feel myself frown. JD never took girls home. Not once. Not ever.
“Thanks. It still doesn’t feel quite real,” I say, fumbling on the lie. “I mean, it is, obviously. I know that. It’s just…” I trail off, searching for something else to say. “I didn’t see you there today.”
I don’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but her eyes flicker downward. “I didn’t go. JD, that is, Dutch doesn’t really approve of JD and I.”
I’m not surprised, but I’m curious why. I wasn’t aware that Dutch cared enough about JD’s love life to have any opinion on his lady friends. Though I really want to pry, I keep quiet.
“He thinks I’m just a distraction, you know. Some floozy trying to climb the ladder to a penthouse. But honestly, I couldn’t care less about the money. It might all be gone soon anyway,” she waves her hand.
“I wasn’t aware Daddy’s financial issues were public knowledge,” I say, growing uneasy of my new companion.
“Oh, they aren’t I suppose. But JD talks about it a lot, and I overhear things. Impossible not to, you know? Besides, JD knows I’d never talk about it—to anyone except family at least.”
“What else do you hear?” I pry, waving for another round of drinks.
She shrugs, “This and that. I know that JD is glad to have you home. I am too. Things are tense with him and Dutch right now. They could both use a little buffer, if you get my drift.”
“Well, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
She raises her glass, “Glad to hear it. Now, let’s get our feet wet.” Snapping her fingers, the two fellas she’d been chatting with earlier appear at her side, each holding out a hand to one of us.
I except, more than ready to put the whole conversation behind us.
We dance until my feet ache. Not even the multiple glasses of champagne can dull the ache when I finally see Vinny across the room and slow to a gentle sway, my partner taking me by the waist and pulling me close. He watches me, and before long the pain is gone, eaten by something else. Each swing of my hips, each twirl that lifts the hem of my skirt high enough to see the top of my stockings, each wave of my arms is for him. When the song ends I disentangle myself from my partner and head to my table, turning my back on the room—and Vinny. I don’t turn back until I feel him behind me, the air practically crackling between us.
“How you doin’, Mas?”
I force a smile and hold up my glass. “Better now,” I say, repeating our conversation from the night before.
“Look,” he begins, stammering, “I just wanna say, I’m not sorry.”
“Oh?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.
He grins, leaning against the bar, “I know you’ve been gone a while, but you know me well enough to know that I’m a fella who goes after what he wants. I ain’t gonna apologize for that.”
“Nor should you,” I agree, saluting him with my glass. I wanted him too, after all. Just as much as he wanted me. And I won’t apologize either.
“But, I know you’re in a bad spot right now, what with just losing your ma, so I ain’t gonna press either. Just know, that I’m around if you need me. When you’re ready.” He moves to walk away, then stops himself, lowering his chin, “Just don’t take too long. Patience ain’t something I’m good at.”
His words deflate me, and I feel myself frown. I hadn’t asked for him to back off. I don’t want him to. But how can I tell him I’m fine without telling him why I’m fine? How can I make him believe that my mother’s death hasn’t crippled me?
“Thanks for understanding,” I mutter, angry with the whole situation.
He’s gone before I can say anything else, off with a group of fellas in the crowd that I recognize as some of Daddy’s associates.
“Who’s the fella?” June asks, returning to our table.
“Vinny, he’s my….”
I don’t get to finish my sentence.
“Vinny? As in Vincent Coll?”
I nod, surprised she’d heard the name.
“I thought he looked familiar. As I live and breathe, Mad Dog Coll,” she muses, taking a sip. “I thought he’d be…bigger.” She tears her gaze from him to me, her eyes widening, “Say, are you two…?”
I shake my head, “No. Just friends. He’s been with the family for a long time.” I don’t mention that our relationship has never been just business or just friends. Apparently, I don’t have to, because she immediately reads it on my face.
“Oh, honey, you better watch that one. He’s got quite a reputation. But then, I suppose in his line of work, reputation can be an asset. Though, if even half the things they say about him are true, Well, I’d be counting my lucky stars to be on his good side.”
I frown. “You can’t believe everything you read in the papers,” I say. The Vinny I know, the man who wrote me those letters, he’s not what people think he is.
She blinks at me in a mixture of pity and embarrassment. “Well, he’s Dutch’s enforcer, everyone knows that. He’s the muscle behind the man. And he’s known for being particularly ruthless, too. I heard just last week he beat a fella so bad that he’ll never walk again.”
I swallow a dry lump of air, trying to keep my expression in check. People are afraid of him, of course they are. He wouldn’t be doing his part if they weren’t. Maybe it’s all exaggerated, a myth to keep people in line. He’s always been so kind to me, so wonderfully patient. The person I keep reading about in the papers doesn’t really exist. Mad Dog is just a mask, a face he uses to do what Daddy asks him to do.
Still, something about the absolute certainty in her words makes me hesitate. I’ve been away a long time. Could a person really change that much?
Could I be with him if he had?
I steal a glance over my shoulder and watch as he leaves the club without so much as a backward glance in my direction.
Determined to cast off my cares, June and I dance the night away. The booze flows in unending rivers and by the time we climb into the back of my car, everything is spinning around me. Albert pulls up outside the penthouse and June climbs out of the car, waiting for me to join her. But there’s something in the air—or maybe just the copious amounts of alcohol flowing through my veins—that makes me hesitate, seized by a sudden reckless desire.
“You go on, I’ve gotta take care of something,” I say, closing the door.
She shrugs and allows one of the guards to escort her inside. Reaching over the seat I tap Albert on the shoulder.
“Take me to Vinny’s place.”
He hesitates only briefly before pulling off the curb and heading south. I roll the window down, letting the cool night air wash over me. I’m warm—too warm—and the air prickles my skin. By the time we arrive, I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to let anything stop me this time.
All around me the men in my life take what they want, why should I be any different?
I climb the back stairs to the apartment. Below is a grocery store, silent and dark, but the light of a single street lamp illuminates the entrance. Outside his door I take a deep breath, setting my resolve before I knock.
The door falls open, light spilling into the hall.
“Vinny?” I call out, pushing the door fully open.
A muffled grunt comes from the front room. I step inside, cross the wooden floor and around the couch I see him. Crumpled on the floor, a pool of black liquid beneath his head.
I don’t scream, the sound catching in my throat and nearly strangling me. For a moment, I’m sure he’s dead, but then he moves, just a bit, his chest drawing a ragged breath.
Rushing to his side I fall to my knees, rolling him onto his back.
“Vinny,” I cry. His face is swollen, his shirt torn and there’s blood coming from the back of his head but his hair is so matted I can’t see the wound. “Vinny what happened?”
His mouth moves, but no words escape, just a dep, low growling sound.
“We have to get you to a hospital,” I say, panic and adrenaline flooding through me. Raising his hand, he seizes my chin, shaking his head in a tremble. One eye swollen completely shut, his lips cut and bleeding, he shakes his head again. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
Then, I remember Albert down at the car. Stripping off my coat I fold it and stuff it beneath his head. “Wait here, I’m going to get help.”
Rushing back down the stairs I spill out onto the street, my hands covered in blood. Albert, leaning against the car with a slim cigar in his mouth, jerks his head up at the sight. “What’s wrong?”
I grab his arm, “It’s Vinny. He’s hurt. You gotta get help.”
He follows me back up to the apartment, glancing over the now unconscious Vinny as I move the jacket, laying his head in my lap instead. “Please, Albert. You gotta get a doctor. Something.”
“You try to keep him awake, I’ll make a call.”
And with that Albert vanishes, no doubt to find the telephone. As gently as possible, I stroke Vinny’s cheek with the tips of my fingers. “Hey, you gotta wake up, Vinny. You need to stay with me, alright?”
His good eye flutters, opening for just a moment before closing again.
Unsure what else to do, I sing. Softly, stroking his forehead and along his chin. I sing his favorite lullaby, and try very hard not to cry.
It’s a few minutes before Albert returns. “I’m going to pick up the doc and bring him here. You should come with me.”
I look up at him, struggling to make sense of his request.
“I’m not leaving him alone.”
Crouching beside me, Albert rubs his chin. “Miss, if the people who did this come back to finish the job…” he trails off but I understand the implication. “I can’t leave you alone. Help is coming but I gotta go get the doc.”
I lower my head, looking at him from beneath my wet lashes, “I. Am. Not. Leaving. Him.”
With a huff he stands, pulling back his coat to reveal a holster. He slides the revolver out, holding it toward me. “Your brother is on his way. Anyone other than him or me comes through that door, and you do what you have to, understand?”
I nod once, taking the gun though I’m not even sure how to use it.
“And don’t you ever tell Dutch I gave that to you. He’d skin me alive.”
“I got it, just go.”
With one last reluctant sigh he bolts from the room. Wiping my bloody hand on my dress, I turn the gun over, examining it carefully before setting it on the floor beside me. I wonder if I’d actually be able to use it. Looking back at Vinny, I already know the answer.
JD arrives just before the doc, and he helps me get Vinny to the small bathroom. I set to filling the copper tub with hot water while JD strips off his shirt, socks and shoes. The sight of his bare chest makes bile rise up in the back of my throat. Every inch of his back is covered in red-purple welts, some punctuated by black, already formed bruises. Leaning him forward over the tub we begin pouring cups of water over the back of his head, trying to clear the clots formed in his hair. Once we find the wound, JD presses a clean cloth to it.
“What were you even doing here?” he demands as we wait, perched on either side of Vinny, kneeling over the tub.
I bite my lip. “I wanted to talk to him.”
Though the panic managed to drive the drunkenness away, I could still feel it’s effects, the haze in the corners of my mind, slowing my words, and making my thoughts sluggish.
“At three in the morning?”
I shrug. He rolls his eyes. “Dutch is going to blow a gasket.”
“About me being here? Or about Vinny being attacked?”
“Both,” he says flatly.
The doc arrives before either of us speak again, brushing through the door and moving me aside. I stand just beyond the door, leaning against the jam so I can see inside.
“Where is my father?” I ask Albert, who stands at my back.
He clears his throat. “I couldn’t reach him.”
I jerk my head so fast muscles in my neck strain with the motion. He flushes pink in the face at my scrutiny.
Unreachable. That’s code for he’s with his mistress and left orders not to be disturbed.
Today.
He’s with her today.
I clench my fists but say nothing even as a mixture of rage and disgust roll through me.
“Put a guard outside this door tonight,” I bark, demanding an authority I don’t actually possess. “I don’t want him left alone for any reason.”
Grunting in response he walks away.
The doc finishes his examination, then, with JD’s help, puts sutures into the long gash in Vinny’s head. I can tell he’s awake when he begins swearing brilliantly and clutching the side of the tub with white knuckles.
I head for the kitchen, opening cabinet after cabinet until I find a bottle of brown whisky. Pulling the cork, I hand it to him. The doctor moves to object but Vinny shoots him a glare and he clamps his mouth closed. He takes a long drink, then hands the bottle back to me.
“Well, three broken ribs, a dislocated finger, and a concussion. All in all, we’ve had worse nights,” the doc says, slapping Vinny on the shoulder, ignoring his visible wince. He pulls a vial of laudanum from his bag and sets it on the sink. “Use as needed for the pain.”
JD stands, following the doctor from the bathroom.
“Time to go, Mas,” he says, holding his hand out to me.
I glare. “Albert, the guard?”
“Is on his way,” he says curtly.
“Then take the Doc home. Come back for me. I’m gonna help Vinny get into bed.”
He and JD exchange a look.
“Or you can fight with me about it for an hour and still end up doing as I say,” I demand, hands on my hips. “We all know I’m going to get my way anyhow.”
Albert nods once and follows the doc out the front door. JD hangs back, frowning.
“You shouldn’t be here, Mas.”
I sigh, “I don’t really care.”
“That’s what worries me. I want you back at the penthouse by dawn, you got it?”
“Order me around again and you’ll be lucky if I come home at all,” I snap back.
He rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers, “I cannot wait till you go back to school.”
His tone is tired, but his words hit me sharply. It never occurred to me that I’d be sent back. Not with everything happening here.
“Fine,” I agree. “I’ll be home by dawn.”
He gives me a questioning glance.
“I promise,” I add.
He moves to leave but pauses, turning back to me, “Oh, and if Dutch asks, you weren’t here tonight. I came by and found him. You were safe at home, got it?”
I nod and he leaves, closing the door. I lock it behind him.
When I return to the bathroom, Vinny has slid into the tub, pants and all, and is soaking in the still warm water.
He splashes his face over and over, turning the water pink.
Grabbing a cloth from the pile, I kneel behind the head of the tub, plunge it into the water, and begin slowly, carefully, washing his neck and shoulders. He sits forward so I can do his back, then relaxes and I move toward his chest and arms.
We are both silent for a while, until all the unspoken words become too much and I break the dam.
“I hate seeing you like this.”
“Well,” he offers in a horse, throaty whisper, “I hate you seeing me like this. So I guess that makes two of us.”
“What happened?”
“Business,” he says flatly.
I cup a handful of water and splash it at him, “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”
“Some of our competitors decided to pay me a visit. They’re like sharks, Mas, they know Dutch is going down and they can smell blood in the water. So they circle, waiting for a chance to take a bite.”
Looking back over his shoulder he takes my hand, “You shouldn’t be here. You need to go back to school.”
I tug myself free. “I told you I wouldn’t leave and I won’t.”
“It was wrong to ask you to stay. You aren’t safe here. These people, they are gonna bring Dutch down any way they can, that means hitting him where he’s soft.”
“You’re saying I’m a liability. Tell me something new.”
“I’m telling you that he has sunk everything into that club and it will be bankrupt before the end of the year. I’m telling you that if you stay, you aren’t just putting yourself in danger, but you’re putting everyone who would have to protect you in danger. And I’m telling you that…I don’t want you here.”
Glitter and Gold (The Canary Club Novels Book 1) Page 4
