by Kris Calvert
I pulled my head back up, licking the blood from my bottom lip. “It’s at Jackson House.”
“You’re lying.”
I shook my pounding head. “I’m not. You can torture me all you want, but the fact is, we had a new safe put in and repaired the closet you blew up. I put it in the wall safe this morning. That’s where it is.”
The younger of the two grabbed my hair again, forcing my head back. “I’m gonna call Leo, and he better come through—for your sake.”
The two of them walked away and for the first time, I inventoried my surroundings. It was a basement—the small windows near the top of the ceiling were blacked out. Around me were boxes, tables and trash. Wherever I was, they never cleaned.
I held back my tears. My body ached and Leo was going to kill me for leaving Tree. That was if the Balivinos didn’t do it first.
29
LEO
I’d sent five of the eight security officers to the warehouse we’d used for Oscar. I had to set up an ambush—and fast. Barbie, Maestro and HD had already arrived. Taco Six walked through the back door with Tree in tow. Immediately I rushed him, pushing him backward. “What the hell happened? Why did you leave her?”
Tree stood at attention, taking my fury head on. “Sir, I went to the bathroom and when I came back, she’d taken the keys and run away.”
I screamed in his face. “Why did she have the keys to the SUV in the first place?”
“Sir, it’s a long story, but the short version is, I emptied my pockets before using the restroom. We were at a high school and my father made me remove my weapons before going to the boys’ room. It pissed me off and I emptied my pockets for him. Polly took the keys, told my father she was going to the girls’ room and took off.”
The house phone rang, letting Tree off the hook for the moment. I was waiting to hear from Al Jr. This had to be my call. “Yes,” I answered.
“Well, well, well. Little Leo.”
It was Balivino’s voice. I knew it well.
“Where’s Polly, Al? What have you done with my wife?” My voice was calm. Inside I was dying—my mind racing with every horrible action I knew the Balivinos were capable of.
“That’s right. We’ve got your wife. She’s not much of a talker, but we’ve managed to beat a few things out of her.
A knot filled my stomach and bile spewed into my throat. “Don’t you hurt her, Al.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. Surely, if you know anything about me by now, it’s that.”
I took a breath and closed my eyes. A vision of my beautiful wife tied up and beaten passed through my head. “What do you want, Al?”
“You know what I fucking want. I want the diamond.”
“Fine,” I replied quickly. “I’ll bring you the diamond, but don’t you dare touch my wife. Meet me at my warehouse on Charbonnet Street in an hour.”
“What makes you think I’m doing what you tell me?”
“Because I have your stupid ass son Vito with me and I’ll kill him with my bare hands, torturing him every step of the way if anything, and I mean anything happens to my wife.”
“You fucking—”
“The warehouse. One hour.”
“Don’t bring your fancy guards with you, Leo, or the whole deal is off.”
“I’m only bringing your idiot son and the diamond. Now get your ass in the car and meet me there with my wife. I’m giving you the ring and Vito. Do you understand me, you fucking piece of shit?” My emotions were on full tilt. I wasn’t holding back. My FBI training prepared me for many situations, but not to have my heart ripped out. I was running on pure adrenaline and rage.
Balivino growled into the phone, his voice deep and feral. This was a man with no morals—no emotion—no remorse. “I’ll be there. But I can promise you Leo, any funny business and you and your wife are dead.”
“I’m calling the shots here, Al. The warehouse. One hour. Or I’ll track you down and make you wish you were dead.”
I slammed down the phone and picked up my Glock, locking and loading. Looking to Taco Six, I said, “Get out of here. I want you in place before Balivino arrives. The rest of the team is there, along with Tristan.”
Tree stared me down. “What about you, sir?”
I locked and loaded the second gun, a 9mm suppressed Beretta, shoving it in the waistband of my jeans. “I can take care of myself, and boys,” I said without taking a breath, “Take care when you’re aiming. If anyone misfires and hits my wife? I’ll kill you myself.”
They looked at each other, then nodded at me. “Move out,” Taco Six commanded.
I took the steps of the grand staircase two by two to get to our room. Rushing into the closet, I opened the safe using our wedding date. There it was on a ring stand—The Soul’s Eye. I tucked it into the top pocket of my jeans, shoving it all the way to the bottom.
Next to the newly concealed safe, I spied Polly’s clothes in a pile. Picking them up, I inhaled her scent. “Hang on, cher. I’m coming for you.”
30
POLLY
With one Balivino under each arm, they practically dragged me up the wooden stairs of the basement, head pounding with each step they made me take. They’d released my legs to walk, but had gagged me again with the duct tape. It wasn’t a good trade off.
Once outside, a blast of sunshine hit me and I stumbled, blinded by the light. They walked too fast, their strides longer than mine.
“Move it, bitch.”
I wanted to head butt them both and make a run for it, but I knew Leo was waiting to make the exchange. Me for the ring and Vito. I tried to remain calm, but the gag was making me nauseous and the last thing I needed was to vomit and choke to death.
Pressing down on my aching head, the older man, Al, shoved me into the backseat of a black sedan. “Lie down and stay down. If you don’t I’ll fucking blow your brains out and you’ll never see your husband again. Got it?”
I nodded, the tears welling in my eyes.
They drove for a good while in silence, then finally the son spoke up. “So this ring, there’s a map on it?”
“I told you already. Numbers. Latitude and longitude.”
“And that takes us to a treasure?”
“Shut the fuck up and just do what I tell you.”
“Fine,” the son whined. “Then tell me who’s meeting us there. I know you told him to come alone, but sure as fuck we aren’t walking in blind.”
“I’ve got back up covering us. They’re already there. We’re going in, taking the diamond and Vito, spraying up the place and getting the hell out. I should’ve killed Leo a long time ago—back when he went to the FBI instead of working for the Family.”
“But he fed us information.”
“You stupid ass. He gave us only what he wanted. He proved where his loyalty was when he killed Geno.”
I dried my tears. The idiots in the front seat didn’t have a clue. They thought Leo killed Geno—The Shadow. They had no idea it was me. I realized then if they’d known the truth, they would’ve killed me straight away. They might get my ring and my life, but they were lost when it came to The Soul’s Eye, those numbers would never lead them anywhere.
Coming to an abrupt halt, I nearly fell into the floorboard filled with dirty napkins, fast food receipts and an open pocket knife. I moaned out in pain, unable to control the spasm in my neck. The butt end of Angelo’s gun had wrecked me. My fingers trembled as I reached for the small knife, grasping it using my index and middle finger like tweezers.
I stayed in the floorboard of the backseat, maneuvering the knife into my right hand. Little by little, I began to hack away at the tape on the inside of my wrists. I knew I couldn’t open it completely, but I could at the very least weaken it to the point I could break it if I needed to.
With a watchful eye, I glanced out the window. We were a good three to four minutes away. I sawed at the tape with the dull knife faster. Making it to nearly the three quarter mark,
I stretched my body out and slipped the open knife into the front pocket of my jeans just as we rolled to a halt.
When Angelo put the car in park, I raised my head to glance out the window and felt the gold key shift inside the cup of my bra. I was right. Leo had sent them to the warehouse.
“Get her out,” Al demanded. Angelo opened the back door of the sedan, punching and grabbing, finally yanking me from the space, throwing me onto the gravel parking lot.
“Get her up for God’s sake,” Al said. “Just make her walk.”
I’d lost both my shoes somewhere along the journey and the gravel hurt the undersides of my feet. This was it. For better or worse. As the thought ran through my head, I realized when we’d taken our vows a year ago I’d said those words, but had only experienced the better half of the vow. This was definitely the worse. I pulled my chin up. If I knew Leo—and I did—he was watching me. I didn’t want him to think they’d beaten me. I needed to be strong. I said a silent prayer for Leo to make it out alive. I’d tested fate so many times, maybe this was it. Maybe my number was up. But not his. If anything, I prayed for the safety of my husband. He’d given me the best two years of my life. I could leave this earth today knowing I had in my possession the whole heart of the man of my dreams.
31
LEO
Everyone was in place when the black sedan pulled into the gravel lot of the warehouse. I was forcing Al and Angelo to the main open space. There, we’d tied Vito to a chair. He was bound, gagged and unconscious. I stole a syringe and a vial of sedative from Oscar’s room and drugged him. I didn’t want him to be of any assistance to his father and brother. From inside the main room of the warehouse, the security team could hide and even watch from afar. I waited at the door and stared out the window, my eyes fixed on the car. I needed to see Polly. One Balivino under each arm, they dragged her out of the car, each holding a gun in their free hand, tossing her into the rocky parking lot. She caught herself before laying her head down in the gravel. She was tired and beaten. My jaw tensed, my body nearly trembling with fury. “Motherfucker.” I ground the word out between my teeth, rage filling every part of my body.
“Take it easy, Z,” Tristan said from behind as he watched the scene unfold through the tiny window. “She’s alive. Let’s keep it that way.”
Dressed in her red shirt and jeans, she’d lost her shoes, but from the way her clothes were still buttoned up and not torn in any way, I breathed a sigh of relief. Angelo had a reputation of raping his female marks before killing them. I hadn’t allowed the thought to cross my mind until this moment.
Polly stumbled as they dragged her body. I gripped the trigger of my gun, wanting to blow both of their heads off right then and there.
Tristan raised his hand in the air, signaling to the others we were a go, then he made himself scarce.
The three of them approached the door, both of their guns aimed squarely at her head. I swung it wide, the metal knob slamming against the side of the warehouse. My Beretta behind the door, I locked eyes with Polly. It was only then she broke. Tears welled in her eyes. I gave her a quick wink when the Balivinos scanned the hallway for more men and guns.
“Leo,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with fear and pain.
“S’agapò,” I replied softly.
“Stop with the fucking reunion. You’re not getting your hands on her until I get the diamond and Vito.”
I stared daggers into Alphonso. I never knew what real hate was until today. Until he had in his hands the single most important thing in my life. “Follow me and stop dragging her around.”
“Shut the fuck up, Leo and just get me to Vito. Your wife is alive. How do I know you haven’t whacked my son?”
I kicked open the door to the main warehouse floor. The ten thousand square foot space was mostly empty, save for the makeshift hospital room in the back. Hawk’s men had done a decent job of tearing it all down and covering the remaining bed and leftover equipment with trash and boxes. The wooden pallets and stacked cardboard in the corners of the area made for decent hiding places for the security team, but the space provided no cover. Everyone was exposed. All of us.
“What the fuck?” Angelo yelled, dropping Polly’s arm to rush to his brother. “Kill her Dad! Kill her!”
“Wait!” I said, stepping in to hold a hand in Alphonso’s face. “He’s not dead. He’s sleeping. Check his pulse.”
Al, Angelo and I exchanged heated glances as Angelo checked his brother’s wrist for a pulse. Polly kept her head down, watching her hands, quietly working her bleeding wrists in the duct tape.
“He’s alive.”
Al turned to me, pressing the barrel of the gun tightly against Polly’s temple. She didn’t wince. “Hand over the fucking diamond.”
Reaching in my pocket, I slid the four carat emerald cut stone out of my pants and into the palm of my hand. Holding it so Al could see it, I looked him in the eye. “Was all of this worth this one diamond, Al?”
Alphonso took the stone, Angelo coming to his side to look at the diamond—the diamond I knew they believed would take them to Lafitte’s treasure.
He dropped the gun he’d held to Polly’s head. Without warning, she changed from her beaten and crumpled stance to an upright and strong position. Doing a two-handed grab around the barrel of Angelo’s gun, Polly broke the tape around her wrists, tossing the gun in the air. A bullet spat into the open warehouse. The gun misfired then fell to the concrete floor.
Taken by surprise at Polly’s move, Alphonso stuttered. Burying my elbow into his windpipe, he dropped his gun and fell to his knees. Angelo yelled for help. Polly picked up the gun, scrambling to find cover.
Six men rushed the building, guns drawn. And then it happened. A single shot fired from somewhere in the warehouse. One of Balivino’s six men hit the ground. Dead.
Alphonso dropped the diamond and I watched Angelo kick it with his shoe, sending it flying across the concrete floor of the warehouse into the unknown.
Now armed, Polly fired off a few shots and we were separated during the scuffle. A firestorm of bullets rang out inside the building.
Angelo tried desperately to free his brother from the chair he was tied to like a sitting duck. Gunfire rang out from the back of the building hitting Angelo twice, both times in the chest and he collapsed at his brother’s feet.
Another shooter came from the back of the building. He wasn’t part of our security team, but he stared Angelo down. When Angelo kicked his feet and was still breathing, the mystery shooter administered the kill shot—right in the head. Vito stirred, finally waking from his drug induced state. His eyes squinted for only a moment and he said one word. “Wait.”
Another gunman joined the first at the foot of Angelo’s corpse. “Shoot him,” he ordered, his voice raspy and deep.
The man squeezed the trigger, burying a bullet in Vito’s forehead. He slumped in the chair.
On the move, I searched for Polly. I didn’t have to search long. Alphonso came out from behind a stack of wooden pallets, Polly in his grip. Yanking her back with each step he took, rage filled his face at the death of his two sons. “Where is the diamond?” he shouted. “Give me that diamond or I’ll fucking kill her.”
I stepped out into the open, the two unidentified gunmen uninterested in me. They seemed only fixated on Alphonso. “Let her go.” I ground the words out through my clenched teeth. “Your boys are dead. You’re fighting a losing battle. You’re outnumbered. This is it. This is how it ends.”
He gripped Polly tighter, shoving the barrel of his gun under her chin. She winced and my heart stopped. My breathing shallowed. I’d always known it would come to this. My past, my family. It had finally caught up with me. I could run, but I couldn’t hide. And now I’d dragged the only thing that mattered down the rabbit hole with me.
“Let her go,” I said, my voice strong, but pleading.
He forced the gun barrel tighter against her. Polly wailed in pain.
I took o
ne step toward them and watched Polly slip something from the pocket of her jeans.
With one swift jab, she drove a small knife into Angelo’s leg. He cried out in pain and Polly fell to the floor, giving any of us a clear shot. Bullets rang out from all across the warehouse. Everyone pulled their weapon and fired. I put two in his face, the men next to me riddled his chest and one shot came from afar, striking him right through the temple. Barbie.
Rushing to Polly, I gathered her into my arms and rocked her. She collapsed under me, sobbing. I looked up at the two men who now numbered six. Standing over me, they were silent. Hawk and the others came out from their hiding places.
“Who the hell are you?”
“They’re with me.” Tommaso Falconi stepped into the light.
I shook my head. “What?”
“Look kid, I know you don’t like to get your hands dirty. Your mother wouldn’t like it either. Now,” he said, moving closer as I picked Polly up from the ground to stand, “I’d say this makes us even. I won’t bother you and you and your FBI friends can leave me alone too.”
“You know I don’t have control over what the Feds do. I’m not an agent anymore.”
His gaze narrowed and he looked at Polly and then back to me. “Do what you can. Now get the hell out of here. I’ll have my guys clean this mess up and dump the Balivinos in the river. Leave now.”
I picked Polly up and carried her in my arms, the rest of the team waited as I knew they would. On guard until the moment we pulled away. I finally left out a sigh of relief.
Polly curled into my chest, her battered and bleeding wrists crossed over her body. I lifted her face to kiss her swollen and bloodstained lip. “I’ve got you, cher. I’ve got you.”
32
POLLY
Foam covered my body all the way up to my chin. The bath Leo had drawn for me had a little too much bubble bath and not enough water, but after the day we’d had, I knew he was only trying to ease my tired mind and body.
