Speak Easy

by Melanie Harlow

Lord have mercy, I did want him. As he slipped one finger inside me, I remembered how he’d awakened every nerve ending in my body, the way he’d filled me to bursting with need.

  “You’re wet already,” he whispered.

  “I—I just took a bath,” I said, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he did to my body without even touching it.

  He laughed softly as his fingers stroked the silky folds between my legs. “Does that mean you don’t want to get dirty again?”

  Resistance was leeching itself from my bones. My legs can’t hold me up. If I didn’t stop him now, I knew I never would. Pushing his arms aside, I moved away from him, holding the towel tight. I spoke firmly, and I meant the words. “The only thing I want is for your family to leave mine alone.”

  He looked at me, his breath coming heavy. “I could arrange that. But I want something in return.”

  “Take the necklace. I don’t want it.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’ll pay the rest of the ransom.”

  One side of his mouth hooked up as he moved toward me again. “That’s between you and my father. I want something for me.” He reached for my hips, and set them against his.

  “What?” I asked, struggling not to moan at the feel of him pressing on me. If I just rise on tiptoe, it would be the perfect spot.

  “I want you to work for me.”

  “Work for you?”

  “Your pal Joe is in with Scarfone’s gang now, and he’ll have all kinds of information I could use. All you have to do is pay attention when they talk.” He put his hands on my buttocks and squeezed, grinding against me. “And then come to me.”

  Oh my God, that feels so good. But he was asking me to switch sides, to turn my back on Joey, the only person who’d helped me. I felt no particular allegiance to Sam Scarfone or the River Gang, but I couldn’t betray Joey.

  Even if it means getting Daddy released?

  I swallowed and tried to find my voice. “You can’t hurt my friend. You have to promise me that.”

  Enzo kissed my forehead, my temple, my chin. “I won’t touch him, unless I find out he stole the necklace.”

  “He didn’t,” I insisted, although I was less sure of that by the moment. What other explanation was there? “How long do I have to…work for you?” The friction between us was melting all thoughts in my brain into one—I want him. Now.

  His mouth lingered on my ear. “Just for a little while, long enough for me to get back what Scarfone owes me. That’s fair, don’t you think?” I felt the towel being loosened and closed my eyes as it fell to the floor. Enzo ran his hands up underneath my breasts, rubbing my nipples lightly with his thumbs.

  “I can’t think when you touch me like that.”

  “Good. Then we have a deal.”

  This is how he operates. He likes to be in control, and then he makes you promise things when you’re weak for him. I knew his strategy by now.

  But he had a weakness too. I knew that as well.

  I opened my eyes. “We might have a deal.” Unbuttoning his pants, I took great pleasure in both his quick inhale and his solid erection, which swelled further in my hands as I stroked him. “But maybe I should punish you a little bit first, for sneaking in here while I was bathing. For scaring me.” I squeezed his cock a little harder, rubbed a little faster, and his skin became slick in my hand.

  His mouth fell open and a quick laugh escaped as he braced himself with his hands on the dresser behind me. “Yes. Ah, God, yes.” His eyes closed and his breaths became raspy and fast. A heady feeling surged through me as I brought him closer to release. I smiled hearing his low moans, seeing how he leaned into the dresser to keep his balance. Wearing only the necklace as I made this gorgeous, powerful man groan and tremble with only my hands, I knew the seductive nature of power and control. I can have what I want.

  My eyes widened as his jaw clenched and he fell forward against me, thrusting into my grasp. He clutched my lower back with one hand, fingers digging into my skin, and I felt something hot and wet against my stomach and slipping through my fingers. A smile crept onto my lips. “And you an altar boy,” I whispered, clucking my tongue.

  He shuddered once more and held me tighter. “I want to fuck you. Now.”

  I hadn’t thought it would be possible, but sure enough, he was still hard in my hand. “Don’t you at least want to catch your breath?”

  “No,” he said, bringing one hand to my breast and squeezing hard. “I don’t.”

  “Hold on a minute.” I had to stop him before I lost my senses. Bending down, I picked up the towel and brought it to my stomach. “I want something first.”

  He smiled. “I know what you want.”

  “No, not that. I mean, yes, that, but—” I pushed him back, feeling heat in my face. “First you’re going to make a phone call.” I used the towel to clean up a little and handed it to him. Then I went to the closet and pulled out my robe. “You’re going to tell your father I gave you the rest of the money and this kidnapping business is over,” I said, slipping my arms through the sleeves and belting it around me. Tight.

  “And then?”

  When I turned, I saw that he was put back together, pants buttoned and shirt tucked in. But his skin was still flushed with desire, his thick hair tousled, and it made me even wetter. “And then we can…negotiate further.”

  He reached for me, and this time my heart thudded only in anticipation. When he slipped his arms around my waist, I put my hands on his chest and kissed his lips for the first time that night. They were warm and soft, and they opened over mine as he teased me with his tongue. “I like negotiating with you,” he said, trying to untie my robe. I pushed him back.

  “Later. The phone is in the front hall.”

  He raised his brows. “Don’t you want to supervise me? Make sure I say exactly what I’m supposed to?”

  “I trust you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think. Enzo stared at me a moment, his expression curious, but he said nothing before leaving me alone in my room.

  When he was gone, I looked in the mirror. My damp hair was a tangled mess, and my face was as flushed as Enzo’s, but what caught my eye was the necklace. The stones at the base of my throat glittered in the lamplight. He bought this for her. Why—because he loved her? Because her father owned a distillery? Was this a token of affection or a bribe to sweeten a deal? What was she to him? And where the hell did I fit into his life?

  I didn’t. I wouldn’t.

  Reaching behind my neck, I unclasped the necklace, furious with myself. What are you thinking, getting all rosy-cheeked and puckering up for him? Don’t be a fool. You don’t trust him and he doesn’t trust you. What he said was right—you each have something the other wants, and that’s where the relationship begins and ends. You want to fool around, fine, but don’t fool yourself into thinking this “partnership” is anything more than another business deal.

  I put the necklace in the box, my bare neck hot with shame. I never should have worn it. I never should have told him I trusted him—he would only take advantage of it. Putting the top on the box, I pressed it shut and vowed I’d never wear the damn thing again. I’m giving it back. And if I ever see it on that lousy little tart, I’ll laugh in her pug-nosed face about where it’s been.

  Grabbing the box, I switched off the lamp and left my room. I was heading down the stairs when Enzo started to yell.

  Hurrying into the kitchen, I saw him shouting obscenities into the phone—at least I assumed that’s what they were, since he was yelling in Italian. He smashed the receiver onto the hook and ran a hand through his hair, seething. It was the most unhinged I’d ever seen him.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice high with panic.

  “I have to go.” With barely a look at me, he headed for the front door.

  “Hey!” I grabbed him by the elbow. “Just a minute. Is your father releasing him tonight or not?”

  Enzo closed
his eyes and exhaled. “Something is going on. I just can’t figure out what the fuck it is.” He looked at me again. “Your father is missing.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  My jaw dropped. “Missing?”

  Enzo nodded, staring me down. “As of this morning, although this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “You mean, he escaped?”

  “Impossible. Not without help.”

  I didn’t know whether to be excited that he’d escaped or worried that he was gone without a trace. Then I realized why Enzo was looking at me so intently. “It wasn’t me, Enzo.”

  “I don’t think it was you. At least, I don’t think you physically removed him.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “But you think it was my idea. That I arranged it.”

  He said nothing for a moment, and I slammed the necklace box into his torso. He grabbed it with both hands and grimaced.

  “Search the house, Enzo! He’s not here. Search the fucking garage, the store, I don’t care!” I pointed a finger in his face. “Only stop acting like you’re going to seduce me one minute and then strangle me the next.”

  He glared at me, seething. “That is, in fact, exactly how I feel about you.”

  I slapped him. Hard, right across his handsome face, fury pounding through my veins.

  I wanted to do it again, but he grabbed my wrist on the second swing, and when I brought the other hand up he got that one too, the necklace box hitting the floor with a smack. We grappled for a few seconds, knocking the phone off the hall table. I was overpowered quickly and backed up against the wall, my wrists pinned on either side of my ear. His breath bathed my lips, and his eyes flashed with rage and passion.

  “So which is it now?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “Both.” Smashing his mouth to mine, he released one wrist and wrapped his hand around the front of my neck, his fingertips digging into my skin without actually cutting off air. I should have brought my knee up hard, or at least bit him, but instead I licked his lips, searching for his tongue with my own, desperate to drive him as mad as he drove me.

  He stepped back, dropping his arms. Our chests rose and fell.

  “Go find him, and bring him back here,” I demanded. “You’ll get the money when I see he’s unharmed. And take that goddamn necklace with you.”

  Without another word, he picked up the jewelry box, turned on his heel and stormed out the front door.

  #

  Upstairs, I sat still as stone on my bed and tried to think through this new twist. Daddy is missing? Where the hell is he? And if he showed up here, what would I do? It would look like I’d lied to Enzo, and then he wouldn’t hold up his end of our deal—to leave my family alone. Tipping over, I lay my head on my pillow and curled into a ball. His scent still lingered in my bedroom, and I inhaled deeply.

  What am I doing with him?

  Despite our inability to keep our hands to ourselves, the two of us would always be suspicious of each other. His passion for me was matched by his need for power and a capacity for violence. I was torn between not wanting to betray a friend and protecting my family against further harm—not to mention my all-consuming attraction to him. But our desire could not dissolve our distrust, and our distrust poisoned our desire.

  We were toxic from start to finish.

  #

  Somehow I must have fallen asleep, because I woke with a start when I heard the shatter of breaking glass. Heart pounding, I bolted out of bed and dashed to the dresser, yanked open my underwear drawer and pulled out the gun. I’d never fired a gun before but my hands instinctively closed around the hilt, one finger on the trigger. I froze at my bedroom door, listening for an intruder.

  Nothing.

  I counted to ten, my heart thumping in my throat, and ventured through the doorway.

  Nothing.

  Holding my breath, I took the steps down slowly, both hands on the gun. The light was still on in the front hall. I looked left toward the kitchen and saw nothing amiss, and to my right the front door was still shut tight. Straight ahead, the front room was dark, but as I entered it, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  One front windowpane was busted, and a brick lay on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. Looking wildly around the room, pointing the gun in every direction, I listened for the hiss of a fuse, recalling what Enzo had said about explosives. But I heard nothing except crickets through the broken window. Lowering the gun, I turned my attention to the brick, which had a piece of paper tied to it with twine. I set the gun down on the table and sat on the couch. Pulling the paper free, I read it.

  It was Daddy’s writing.

  Bring the money to the boat house at midnite tonite or they will kill me

  What time was it? I scrambled to my feet and raced into the kitchen to check the clock. It was almost eleven. Terror squeezed my lungs, and I put my hand over my stomach. Breathe, I reminded myself. In and out. Make a plan.

  I had the money. I had no car, but I could go down to the boathouse on foot, although it would take me about half an hour. The bigger problem was that I didn’t have Joey to go with me, and I had no idea who I’d encounter there. Whoever it was had Daddy for sure—I knew by his chicken scratch handwriting and the way he spelled midnite and tonite.

  Midnight. Tonight.

  I had one hour.

  I raced up the stairs, ripped off my robe and threw on a chemise and dark blue dress. My hair had dried before I had a chance to even comb it, so I hid it under an oversized cloche. Forgoing stockings, I stepped into my shoes and shoved the money inside a large purse.

  Right next to the pistol.

  #

  By the time I reached the boathouse drive, my hip was aching, my feet hurt, and my dress was sticking to my skin. I peered through the dense shrubs and undergrowth, reluctant to leave the comforting glow of the lights on Jefferson behind. But I had no choice. Carefully I made my way down the dirt road, trying to avoid turning my ankle in a rut, and jumping at every snapped twig.

  When the boathouse came into view, lit only by a crescent moon, I stopped. A breeze rustled the trees around me, cooling my skin. I saw no cars. Heard no human voices. Closing my eyes, I exhaled and waited for my hammering pulse to slow down. I wondered how many of them were in the boathouse, and whether Daddy was with them too. How had they gotten here—by boat? I couldn’t see the dock from where I stood, and I’d have to get past the boathouse to check. A few more minutes ticked by while I put off stepping from the trees and facing whoever waited for me inside.

  Enough stalling. It’s got to be close to midnight.

  Squaring my shoulders, I left my hiding spot and headed toward the boathouse door with one hand in my purse, my fingers on the reassuring metal of the gun.

  I was three feet from the door when a shadow came at me from the direction of the dock. My hand closed around the gun just has a heavy object slammed against my left temple.

  The shadow eclipsed the moon, and everything went dark.

  #

  As the fog lifted, a man in a burlap sack mask with eyeholes stood over me, coiling a rope. When I could see, I realized I was lying down in the bottom of a boat, my wrists tied together in front. Lifting my arms, I touched my sore temple with the back of one hand. The pain reverberated throughout my skull. My hat was gone, but it had probably saved my skin from breaking open. I attempted to sit up, but my head throbbed, making me woozy and nauseous. I fell right back down again, moaning in pain.

  “Not so fast, doll.” That voice…it was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Confusion clouded all my senses.

  My purse—I need my purse, I thought through the haze. There’s something in there that will help me. I felt around for it the best I could, but my efforts garnered only a squawk of laughter.

  “Don’t bother, toots. I got the goods right here—the money and the heater. Quite a piece you were packing. Not as good as mine, though.” It was then I noticed the machine gun on the seat behind him. “But
I’m gonna pat you down anyway. Been waiting to get my hands on you.” He knelt and groped me roughly, taking perverse pleasure in running his hands all over me. He laughed some more, an annoying, scratchy heh-heh-heh that prompted my brain to make a connection.

  The pimply-faced goon, Raymond’s friend.

  I licked my dry lips. “Harry?”

  “You remember me, huh?” He pulled off the mask.

  “Unfortunately.”

  He squeezed my upper arm and snarled. “Kinda brave for a little girl without her gun. If I hear another insult, you might end up without more than that. Like your pretty face.”

  “What do you want with me? You got the money, so just let me go.”

  “No chance. Now stay put.” He started the engine, and we took off, heading downriver. Looking back, I could see Daddy’s boat bobbing next to the dock. Clarity was returning with painful jabs to the head. Am I being kidnapped? Where’s Daddy? Are the DiFiores behind this? But it didn’t make sense—unless Enzo had lied about my father being missing and set me up. Was the entire phone conversation a ruse? It was possible, but why would Angel need to trick me into giving him the money a day early? Why wouldn’t Enzo have just taken it earlier tonight?

  I tried to piece everything together as the boat picked up speed. The heist, the false alarm, the necklace, Enzo and I at the boathouse, the package from Joey, Enzo and I in my bedroom, the phone call, the brick through the window, the blow to the temple, being tied up and taken somewhere by Harry.

  But I was completely baffled.

  I tried not to panic as the boat swooped through the chop. Stay calm and think. Was it possible Harry was working alone? “Where are we going?” I shouted over the motor, tucking my knees inside my elbows. Suddenly I was chilled to the bone.

  “Niagara Falls, doll. For our honeymoon.” He cackled with glee.

  “Did you take my father?”

  He looked at me. “Maybe.”

  “Where is he?”

  “At the bottom of the river, waiting for you.”

  “You son of a bitch!” I yelled, kicking at his ankles and seething when he laughed. Frantic to escape, I looked at the black water. I considered jumping in and swimming for it, but knew I’d be no match for a machine gun, especially with my hands tied. I’d be dead in seconds, my bullet-riddled body found days later by some unsuspecting bootlegger or fisherman, the account written up in the papers. Girl Caught in Crossfire of Bootleg Wars. I didn’t want my sisters to suffer that. Hunkering down, I hugged my knees to my chest again and kept my face averted from Harry. If I had to look at him, I’d be sick. Where is he taking me? Did he really kill Daddy? And why doesn’t he just kill me, if that’s what he’s going to do? Finally, I laid my forehead on my knees and wept.