Page 79

I scurry forward and stop near a group of six more. I pull out an atomizer. Smiling at them I give myself a spray down that marks them with a stinky cloud of phosphorescence.

Sal’s ten feet ahead of me and slams open two doors that must lead to the dining area. In that split second of looking around, I realize I don’t smell garlic or gas from stoves. No one is cooking. There’s no crash of pans or bustle of servers.

“SAL! It’s a shell. It’s a trap.” It all happens in a moment. There’s a gun at my back and his head. He steps back from the gun, and they shuffle me closer. Sal simply puts his hands in front of him. He’s so calm it’s eerie. He’s moving like a tortoise and smiles as if he knows a secret they don’t. I mirror the smile and rate of motion. Brick can’t kill anyone or we’ll never find Gia.

One man holds his elbow. Sal stares at the man’s hand and he removes it immediately. Then Sal turns his head slightly towards the man pointing the gun directly at his head. The man doesn’t lower it, but his hand shakes a little simply at the look my husband is leveling him with. Scary as hell.

Then, in a calm tone reserved for asking for directions in a Best Buy he says, “Perhaps you could lead me where you’d like me to go. I won’t run. The suit is new, so don’t fucking touch it and holster your shit. We’re not armed. No one’s getting shot here.” He repeats it in Italian, “Riponete le vostre fottute armi, siamo disarmati.”

The gun is removed from my back, and I realize he’s signaling Brick we’re not staying here. No one gets shot here. We’re going to be brought to Enzo. All of our plans are fucked. And I’m sure not seeing moves ahead has Sal more pissed off than anything. I can feel my stomach sweat and my hands churn. I’m pretty sure I have no air in my lungs and my face has to be alabaster.

He nods at the men surrounding us. I sneeze and drop my purse again, but this time it simply slid from my fucking hand.

“Sorry,” I say as a man picks it up for me.

Sal doesn’t flinch. This is the calm monster he keeps caged. His voice gets deeper and darker. “Don’t fucking worry about her. Do your fucking jobs. Enzo, the pussy, has my sister and my balls, and apparently yours. I’m not doing anything to compromise those things. I like my balls. You guys? Huh? I know you do. I can see it on your fucking faces. You like your balls. Hon, do you like my balls?”

I answer, “What’s not to like?” Playing my girlish part. But I don’t know what to fucking do. He blows me a kiss.

“Great. See gentlemen, no one’s gonna do shit and we all keep our balls.” His soft playful tone disappears and is replaced by a dark menacing voice. “But I’m not going to die because some asshole tripped on the way to the fucking car. Lower your god damned piece or I’ll lower it for you, you pussy, turncoat fist fucker. Your flesh is already gonna burn for eternity for breaking your oath.” He swallows and lowers his gun.

Sal continues, “Unless you want me to rip your dicks off and shove them down this asshole’s throat so he can gag on them, I’d keep the metal lowered fuckers.” I might mount him right here and not care who watches me ride him.

The guns all lower, and two of the men actually nod to Sal. Whether they know him or not, they recognize that he is the Don. It radiates off him in waves that bolster my confidence. I step away from my guards to stand next to him. I place my hand on his elbow.

“What’s the fucking hold up, assholes? You heard him. We have places to be so let’s get moving.” The men move quickly on my order, and that’s a bit intoxicating. They lead us to a back door. I pretend I’m confident, but my knees buckle. Sal lifts me back up before anyone sees me.

The sun is thinking about setting as we step outside. They pull me away from Sal and try to blindfold me. “Hey!”

Everyone stops, and I say the first thing that comes into my head. “Um, I get car sick here in Italy. Can I look out the window?” Sal growls not understanding I have a fucking tiny camera in my headband that Becca put in. I keep babbling, “Or can you just tell me if it’s a long ride? I could take some Dramamine, but it takes about 20 minutes for it to kick in and I don’t want to puke.” I know I’m compromising my Comare status but I’ll use their bias against them. I’ll do anything to keep us all safe.

The balding man with the dark blue eyes approaches and gets in my face. I snap my teeth at him. I see Sal smirk out of the corner of his mouth.

“Can you handle ten minutes?”

“As long as you don’t fucking touch me.” His brows lift. And now I seem like a loose cannon. I think that’s who I’d be in the underworld. The one you never know what they’ll do or say. He leans into me again, and I meow.

I bite my inner lip to stop myself from laughing. Sal pulls me to him while squeezing my hand.

“Let’s go kitty. Back down, your claws.”

I rear and he chuckles under his breath, then I scratch the man next to me. They all exchange looks and hopefully won’t fuck with us. And hopefully I’ve stalled long enough that Brick has packed the fuck up so he can follow us.

We round a corner to see four black sprinter vans. My stomach drops to my toes. They’re going to separate us. We approach one van together and Sal leans into my ear.

“Say nothing. Make those fucked up noises but do not react. Do you hear me, my love? Do nothing. Don’t ask questions or try to help. Take the ride, and they’ll bring you to me. Do you hear me? For once in your life listen to me.”

I nod, but if there’s an opportunity for me to do anything, I’m going to do it. I’d love to listen to him. However, I will tear out anyone’s fucking eyes to get back to him. I’ll try to be calm. They pull my arm from him, and he kisses me quickly.

“Let’s not forget they can’t end us. Because your eternal butt fuck asshole nephew wants us alive. They need Gia alive for whatever the moron has planned. We have to be alive, or he would have killed us.” I shout.

“Get in the van asshole,” a man says behind Sal.

As we’re both led to our separate vehicles, he stops just before they put blindfolds on us. His voice is what their nightmares will sound like for the rest of their lives. If murder had a voice, it’s his.

“One fucking hair and each and every member of your families and any of you pieces of fucking garbage that dropped from a whore’s belly will die slow fucking painful deaths. I will carve you up one at a time and make everyone watch in some kind of fucking gore theater of fucking pain. I’ll video that shit as a fucking lesson to anyone who thinks it’s ok to hurt her. Do you understand? I don’t like people touching my things. And I certainly don’t like the way you’re looking at my wife. So, keep your eyes off her as well as everything else you have at your disposal. Or you’ll lose parts first. And we’ve already established we all like our balls.”

My wife. Sigh.