Page 30 of Trina Gabrini: Bring Him Back Home to Me

“Watch me,” Trina said and snatched away from her sons.

Even Carmine blocked her path. “Mother, it’s not feasible for you to go with Uncle Sal and Uncle Tommy. We’ve already lost our father. We can’t lose you too.”

Trina knew Carmine was no sentimentalist and was saying that shit to get her to back down. She knew her son too well. “You haven’t lost your father and you won’t lose me. He’s divorcing me, not you,” she added, and then began to move Carmine aside too.

“You aren’t going, Trina.”

Everybody looked when they heard that voice, because it was Tommy’s voice. And Tommy never got into petty arguments with anybody in the family. Tommy never minced words. “And if you want to know on whose orders you aren’t going, it’s on my orders you aren’t going. And that’s final,” he said.

It was one thing for Trina to mix it up with Sal. She and Sal always fought like brother and sister. But it was something entirely different when Tommy put his foot down. She knew, like she knew when Reno put his foot down, that it was useless arguing about it.

And she gave in. “I need to talk to her, Tommy.”

He could see the anguish in her beautiful hazel eyes. And he nodded. “You will. But not until we bring her in.”

Trina didn’t like it, but she knew the choice was no longer hers. She nodded, and stepped aside. And Tommy, Sal, and Robby left.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Reno was so exhausted he had to keep wiping his eyes to stay awake.

He was perched inside an abandoned warehouse that overlooked an abandoned junkyard. There was an old shed in the junkyard to where he had traced Lydia’s movements.

She didn’t know he could trace her. He planted a device on her when he was hugging her and telling her sweet nothings at that bar yesterday. He pretended they were going to go to a hotel room and talk it out.

But when they got to the hotel room, some dive on the west side of Vegas, she didn’t want to talk at all. All she wanted was sex. His sex. As in entrapment.

He knew the signs like the back of his hand. It happened to him more times in a year than most men had in a lifetime. There was always a crisis. But they didn’t want to talk about it in public. Meet them at some motel or hotel room. That was the usual line. And when he showed up, they’d be already naked and ready for action. Cameras were undoubtedly hidden and waiting to record the action. And then the extortion began. I won’t tell your wife if you give me x amount of dollars. He never caved. It rarely worked. But Lydia’s ass was trying it too.

But why was the question to Reno.

He hadn’t seen her in decades. Not after he tricked her into signing over her fake interest in the PaLargio. She left with her tail between her legs, that was a fact. But her old man couldn’t blame Reno. She was the one who fell for his lies. She was the one who should have seen it coming a mile away.

And after that war with his father, a war Reno won, he thought it was over. Now it’s back again?

Did she know about what his father did to her sister?

Or did she know about the other thing?

But how could she?

It seem about sex and sex alone when they first arrived at that seedy hotel room. As soon as they walked into that room, she began removing his suit coat and kissing on him as if he was her long-lost lover.

Although Reno pushed her away from him, she kept at it. He didn’t want to kiss her, fine. But she was betting the farm he’d want this.

She got her on knees, zipped down his pants, and before he could fully react she had pulled out his big, juicy, meaty rod and was about to put it in her mouth. Reno had to stop that too. What the fuck was wrong with this woman, he was saying in his head.

But he knew he had to keep his cool. She had her agenda, but he had his too.

“Get up from there,” he said to her as he took her by her skinny arms and lifted her up. “What are you doing? You don’t have to come with that kind of heat. We need to talk, Lydia. We need to talk first.”

The word first did it for her, as he knew it would, because it implied there was more to come. Because it meant she was going to get her video or pics of him in compromising positions, but only after they talked. Talking was the key for him. He had to know what she was up to.

They sat on the sofa. There was a faint smell of urine in the room. Why she had to pick a hotel like this one was beyond him. But he knew she didn’t pick it. It was a mob move. It was what mobsters picked. The seedier the better because they wouldn’t be the only crooks in that hotel. Because they would be able to pay off the front office workers just in case things got out of hand. Which made Reno certain that it wasn’t Lydia who wanted to show back up in his life. It was his old man. This had the Moose Vatelli gang written all over it.

But the question still remained: Why?

“I need to know the truth, Lydia. Why are you suddenly back in Vegas?”