Dancing with the Mob: A Dark Mafia Romance Two-Book Collection

by Suzanne Hart

  I clutched at my chest, feeling my own heart race, then soften to an almost dull thump as I curled into a ball. The floor was cooler, by degrees, the air slightly better for a time. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to see Jack, but hearing Mikey instead.

  …He always wanted a son, but he loves you more! It’s not fair! Mia this and Mia that. I’ll never be good enough, not like you! Perfect little Mia, just like Mama! But now she’s dead, it’s all your fault she’s dead. You made it happen, all you, Mia! You take everything away… so there’s nothing left for me…

  Mikey blamed Mama’s death on me. And everything else after that. He was so angry that he had to blame somebody. And Papa was too broken, too fucking high and terrifying most of the time, so he couldn’t blame him. If he did, he would’ve been sent away, like me. But Mikey saw my going away as a treat, as a reward for being better than him. I got special service, money and gifts sent overseas, anything I wanted; and everything I didn’t need. Mikey’s grudge grew from his fantasy, that I was the most loved child over himself.

  I’m sorry, Mikey. I’m sorry for everything. I wish it could’ve been different. But what did you do? I know you did something terrible to help make all this happen, to hurt me and Papa. What have you done? Maybe it’s not too late; maybe I can help you make it stop… Mikey? Why won’t you let me in?

  I couldn’t tune into Mikey, or anything else. And I knew the air in the room was running out, and I had lost count of the time I’d been in there. My head pounded, and my eyes were almost as dry as my throat. I felt so sleepy, but kept gasping awake every time I dropped off. There were things, people, and other terrible things in the room with me now. I knew they weren’t real, but I could still see them. Shutting my eyes tightly drew them closer. I could feel them, hear them, getting inside my thoughts and making me feel worse than I ever thought possible.

  Bernardi has won, this is it. I’m done. I just hope that Jack or Papa can send someone to finish him off after I’m gone.

  I didn’t hear the swish of the door, or the men who came in either side of Carlo Bernardi, once the room had some breathable air in it again.

  “The levels were at a critical low, Mr. Bernardi. A few more minutes and she’d have been comatose.” Bernardi had nodded, sadly to himself, perhaps reflecting on the fragility of all life. And not just that which he took so freely through mumbled instructions to others.

  I felt a huge hand, holding mine in it. It was cool, soothing and soft. I smelled the sea. Ozonic, clear air that felt far away, even though it was creeping up my nose and gradually into my lungs as I found new energy to force a breath every now and then. The pounding in my head continued, but the buzzing had lessened. I opened my crusted eyes, there was a figure sitting on the bed, holding my hand. It looked like Papa.

  “Papa, I’m sorry. It’s Mikey, he...” My eyes focused, I could see it was Bernardi. I wanted to snatch my hand back, but I was too weak. Bernardi held it tighter, but still gently in his.

  I felt his other hand trace down the side of my face, brushing back a sweaty curtain of hair. Normally it would’ve made my flesh crawl, but I could only feel the delight of something cooling, like menthol or ice where I ached. I ached all over.

  “Give her the air,” I heard him say softly.

  My head was pitched forward by a different set of hands, a sharp pain as elastic pinched at my hair, then the icy mist of oxygen from a plastic mask. I had resisted at first, fearing they were choking me. But once my body felt the oxygen, I breathed deeply again, cupping the mask with my hands, a life raft in the sea of the white dome, threatening to close over again at any moment. I could feel my panic rising at the prospect of the air being taken away.

  “You know, Mia...” It was Bernardi. He’d given me a minute with oxygen, saving his speech until he knew I was lucid enough to hear it. “The air… is… nice, eh?”

  He was looking around him with one hand up, exclaiming at nothing in particular.

  “…Something we all take-a-for granted, all of the time.” I knew what was coming, I wanted to steel myself against it, but I couldn’t.

  I was so afraid of being locked back in there, without enough air. I opened my mouth, to plead with him. Only a dry rasp escaped my cracked lips. He smiled down at me as he stood up, pacing the room with his large hands behind his back.

  “I want to talk with you, to make some business…arrangements. But, I need you to be sensible, to be clear. I need you to understand, Mia.” He had stopped at the end of the bed, his back to me, addressing the wall as if it was his most captive audience.

  “The world, she is a changing place. Business isn’t what it was when I was a boy. I can remember, before you were born, before any of you were born that your papa and I used to send thugs to each other’s neighborhoods. Yes, to try and wrestle a few thousand dollars from one another…” He sighed loudly, and turning around he looked down at me, scanning me from my feet, then right up my whole body until our eyes met. They were warm and friendly again. I was having trouble focusing.

  “Your brother, ah… Mikey, he’s-a smart.” I tried to sit up, wanting to mouth something. Strong, unseen hands forced me back onto the bed. I was exhausted anyway, and I could only gasp at the air, wondering how much longer he would let me keep it.

  Bernardi continued to smile down at me. A light from behind him giving him a Franciscan glow, like a friar from an ancient stained glass window I’d had installed in my library at home. He spoke gently and clearly, urging me with hands and body language to stay still and to listen. I got the distinct feeling that the lack of breathable air in the room was getting to him too.

  Your father is dead, Mia. I have seen to that. Your boyfriend who you like to think about while you fuck yourself with your claws, he is the one who set it all up.” He had paused, waiting for a reaction, but I didn’t have one to show.

  “Our doctor, Doctor Cartwright. Our lawyer, Hamilton and his cronies. All working for us, Mia. Us!” He beamed, and his eyes shone with delight, then they grew dark again, more serious. “But, it’s not enough. They have done a small part for us. We need you to do the rest. But I need you to do it willingly. I need a willing business partner, not some fish in a tank.”

  He sighed again, turning away, looking for a window to stare out of, and one that simply wasn’t there. He thought a moment, then spun around again.

  “We need to join forces, Mia. Not so I can be the biggest gangster in the city, or even the country, No! We need to join forces because there is something, something so big that is coming for all of us. If we don’t act together as the wave breaks, we will be crushed, like insects, Mia. Insects!”

  I turned my head away, counting to myself the amount of breaths I was taking. Counting down inside myself to reach a calm center. I could hear the therapist’s clock, its metallic timbre as it ticked was swaying in time with my breathing. I knew Bernardi was lying, he had to be. Papa wasn’t dead, and Jack was no turncoat, Jack wasn’t like these men. He wasn’t like anybody.

  “Your father’s death leave’s his share of Mia Bella to Jack Slade, as an executor of his will, and trustee of his estate. Jack will act on our behalf, and we will orchestrate a hostile takeover.”

  He paused, letting his words take effect. There was none that he could see.

  “Or…” he continued. “You can join us. Mia and Mikey at the helm of Mia Bella, front door to the biggest family operation in the country!” I had turned my head away, blinking back tears as I tried to tell myself this guy was crazy. Papa wasn’t dead; Jack was coming to rescue me. Period.

  I mustered all my strength to look Carlo Bernardi in the eye, feeling the grip of his men tighten on my wrists.

  “Bernardi! Go fuck yourself with one of my claws. I’ll file one up for you!” I felt my eyes flutter as I fell back, still gasping.

  “Take off the mask,” I heard Bernardi say as he left.

  The mask was snatched off and the door swished shut behind them all. I could feel the thick, hot air
creeping back over me as I turned on my side, trying not to cry out.

  Thirteen

  Jack

  The branch at the window had stopped scratching, and there was no thunder or lightning. I got up out of my little bed and looked out the window. It had started to snow in the night. A white static that seemed to hang as it fell slowly, pushing the scenery back and forth between dancing flecks of frozen light.

  A musical aria played from the living room. I braved my father’s scorn and crept down the hallway, edging toward the warm amber triangle of light at the entrance to the living room. I peeked around the corner. My parents. They were alive. Well. Happy. Father smoked his pipe, standing by the fire, while my mother looked up at him with a great tenderness.

  My father caught me peeking out of the corner of his eye, and his own shot me a friendly wink, permission to join the warmth of the fire, of the moment. A moment of belonging togetherness I never felt when they had lived.

  As they spoke, a trail of red began to stream from my father’s temple. I turned in horror to see my mother’s face crumble and distort into a mess of broken flesh and jagged bone. They both fell to the floor, automatically positioned in the doorway, blocking my exit when I wanted to run, screaming. I was frozen to the spot. The whole ceiling giving way to a giant arcing dome of glass. The snow still falling silently outside, lit by the fire. It calmed me as my parents dissolved into waves, gently lapping into the living room from the hallway.

  The aria reached a crescendo; I felt my heart soar with both love and a terrible apprehension. The singing rose, beyond the highest notes and into a scream. A woman was screaming. She was screaming my name.

  Jack! Jack!

  It was Mia’s voice. I could hear the voice carried in the still night, outside of the dome. I tried to run, to move even. I was frozen on the spot, I couldn’t breathe. The air was stifling. A huge weight on my chest.

  Jack! Jack!

  “Jack! Jack! It’s alright man, pull yourself together, you’re having a nightmare.” My eyes shot open, Doctor Rollins was holding me gently by both shoulders. I heard myself take in a sharp breath of air. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt myself starting to panic. Trying to get up, I was held down on the bed by Rollins. “Easy, Jack. Easy!”

  I felt my ears pop, something cracked behind my windpipe and I could breathe again. I felt like crying, but there were no tears left in me, not in this life. I gripped the sheets with both fists, first inhaling deeply, then relaxing until I could feel the room and myself, coming back into focus.

  “How long was I out, doc?” I asked, getting up out of the bed, swooning, then setting myself straight.

  “Only an hour or so,” he said, shaking his head.

  He had figured me well enough, knowing not to baby me or give me his medical opinion about what I should or shouldn’t do. This is why I wanted Rollins. He was a doctor, not a fucking shrink, and not a fucking saint.

  He’d been de-registered for killing a patient. His ex-wife’s lover. He found out he was beating her, bad. He did what anyone in this family could do, he took care of it. Good enough for me, and good enough to tell me straight what was up with Don Leone. But first, he’d had to pick a slug out of my side, apparently.

  “A .22?” I asked, disbelieving what I was hearing. “Who the fuck takes a spud gun to a gun fight?” It didn’t make sense, but nothing really had that day, so I let it go for now. “I need to speak with Don Leone, I need you to wake him up,” I said casually.

  The doctor frowned. “It’s not that easy, Jack, he’s not a radio. I can’t just switch him off and on like that.” My ignorance and impatience showed. The doctor sighed a long breath out through his nose. “Looking at the dosage charts, Mr. Leone has been given a series of powerful sedatives, then some stimulants, then sedatives again. His heart is stable, but until I do some tests, I won’t risk any more stress on him. Not today anyway. He needs to rest, with tests in the morning. You should follow the same treatment, Jack. You’ve been shot. Uhhh. It’s kind of a big deal. I am a doctor, Jack.”

  I was looking past the doctor, the olive wood crucifix on the wall had drawn my attention as I focused on what to do if I couldn’t speak to Don Leone, if I couldn’t wake him up. I wasn’t praying, let me get that straight. I was thinking.

  Mia. I hope you won’t always be so much trouble.

  Black had stuck his head around the door, and seeing I was up, he came in. He wanted to ask about my scratch, but I didn’t have time for that.

  “Get me Don Lucias Leone, Don Leone’s brother. I need to gather the family for a meeting.” Black looked taken aback, glancing from the Doctor, and then back to me.

  “Ah, Jack --Mr. Slade. Don Leone is the only one who can call a meeting like that. Plus, they’re four hours ahead of us. I am not ringing Don Lucias at four o’clock in the am.”

  I stared at him, without blinking. “Then get me his number, I’ll do it myself,” I said, impassively. He turned to leave. “Mr. Black?” He turned slowly, fighting not to roll his eyes. “We have an unprecedented situation here, the details of which I’m not sure you’re fully aware. I’d appreciate some useful assistance, starting with you following some simple orders. Am I understood?” He turned without a word, closing the door gently behind him. A minute later he returned carrying a cordless phone.

  “Don Lucias, Mr. Slade.” I pouted approval, then, taking a deep breath, I took the handset from him.

  “I’m getting on a plane, Mr. Slade. I’ll be there in two hours.” The line went dead.

  I handed the phone to Black. “How much did you tell him?” I asked, curious about his manner. Maybe he wasn’t a phone person?

  “I didn’t tell him anything, Mr. Slade. The news of the attack, it’s on all the stations, so he most-likely saw it there.” He took the handset, checked it was off, and left the same as he’d come.

  I had watched Black leave. His tall, gaunt frame seemed to stick out of his suit at odd angles, like he was still wearing the hanger and had pockets full of knives or sticks. I had forgotten to even ask or find out if Don Lucias was bringing the rest of the family. I decided to let that part of the family work itself out, and just focus on my job.

  Rollins was grilling the nurse about medications and other parts of Don Leone’s treatment at the hands of Cartwright.

  Cartwright.

  I pulled out my handset, wincing from the pain. Had doc given me painkillers? Probably not, it sure didn’t feel like it. Bite down on that one, Slade. It was a .22, not even a real gun. I dialled Brown. He picked up on the first ring.

  “We’ve lost three in total, sir. The medics from downtown have come up and they say everyone else will be sore, but stable. Nobody’s losing a limb.”

  I ground my jaw; the memory of the carnage was fresh in my mind again.

  “Sir?” Brown was being a suck-up. He had news, I could tell.

  “Speak to me Brown, I’m in no mood for bad news but I’ll hear it if I must.” I waited, for a long silence. I expected the worst, but the line was just bad.

  “...the roof, and we heard from Mr. Little that the cops are still there. The whole place is a crime scene now, with Rich, err… Mr. Little, saying that the cops were talking inside job… meaning us… not the Bernardi’s.”

  I let what he said sink in for a second. This whole thing was getting weirder by the minute. My phone pulsed, it was Rich.

  “Gotta go, Brown… Rich! What the fuck!? I just heard from Brown, can you talk yet?” He was silent for a moment, I heard him sigh deeply.

  “It doesn’t look good, Jack. For you, I mean. Cops say they have witnesses from a rally out front, just before the shooting, saying you and Brown were seen entering the building and climbing the stairs, with guns drawn.” He went quiet again, I could hear camera flashes and radio chatter in the background, Rich was moving into his office. I heard him close the door.

  “And Mia? Tell me you have a trace on Mia, some idea of where she is? I have a real bad feeling sh
e’s not in a good place right now. We need to get to her and get her out, right now!” I could hear Rich leaning back in his seat, wincing a little with a pain that I could relate to. I didn’t pick up on his emotional concern, not like when I’d seen him.

  “It’s a mess Jack, that’s for sure. I can’t say where she would be any more than you, right now. The screenshot has a dot on the map which is the same size as a downtown district, plus it was sent on her way to somewhere else. How can I tell where she was going from that?”

  I felt my jaw tightening again, and then my heart sank. I felt the floor pitching away as I stood up, too. I was giddy, but I noticed I was almost shaking with rage. Something didn’t fit here.

  Was I talking to Rich fucking Little? What the fuck?

  I breathed in some calm. “I see, Rich. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be in touch.” I heard him start to say something, but I’d already hung up.

  Something isn’t right with any of this. I wish Don Leone was awake, I do. I wish I’d started yesterday differently.

  I brought up the screenshots of the maps Mia had sent. She was over the ocean, hundreds of miles from anywhere. These things had a range of about 350 miles, tops. She had to be there somewhere.

  Unless they crashed. Weather was terrible out that way; a huge tropical cell was right in front of the red dot that was Mia’s helicopter. I felt my stomach turn. I needed sleep and I needed food. I also needed some answers.

  I had no plans to go back to my place, maybe ever. If what Rich said was true, the cops would be looking for me --for all of us. They’d come to me, probably any minute, but the men were well versed in dealing with cops. It would take them at least until the morning to get a warrant, maybe longer. They’d tried to bust Don Leone so many times, judges and the D.A. never signed off on warrants anymore. This time though, there was compelling evidence that would see them get there as soon as night followed the day.