Chasing The Bodyguard: An Irish Mob Action Adventure Road Trip Romance

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Chasing The Bodyguard: An Irish Mob Action Adventure Road Trip Romance Page 27

by Grace Risata


  Our little group formed an orderly line and we soon found ourselves in an ornate library that doubled as Angelo’s office. The legendary Italian Don sat comfortably on a white sofa surrounded by opulence at every turn. He was currently in the process of watching a baseball game on a television that took up an entire wall.

  Showing a certain amount of gentlemanly charm, Angelo stood up to greet us and promptly turned off the game.

  “Ms. Donahue…we finally meet. The pleasure is all mine.”

  He stuck out a hand and I nodded politely and shook it while giving him a careful inspection. Honestly, he reminded me of any powerful politician you’d see in Washington. Full head of salt and pepper hair, inquisitive brown eyes, and a commanding presence that left no doubt he was not to be fucked with.

  “Please, sir, call me ‘Leandra.’ I’d like to start by thanking you for welcoming us into your beautiful home and not shooting us on sight.”

  It hadn’t escaped my notice that three armed guards were stationed at various positions around the room.

  He chuckled at my frankness and motioned for us to have a seat.

  “Who have you brought with you tonight, Leandra?”

  “This is Shorty and Samuel,” I explained, introducing the men. “I saw no need to bring a whole entourage when I knew these two would be more than enough protection.”

  Let him understand I brought the best. We were also not to be fucked with.

  “Is it safe to assume that negotiations did not go well with my son? Is that why you’re here?”

  He knew exactly why I showed up announced. I’m sure Carmine was on the phone with daddy long before the door nearly hit my ass on the way out of his restaurant.

  “I know your time is just as valuable as mine, Mr. Barsotti, so I’ll spare us all the bullshit and cut right to the chase. One of my men betrayed me by sharing a certain amount of inside information to one of your employees. A hostile takeover was attempted and promptly extinguished, but not before there was a bit of a disagreement between the two families.”

  “I heard about my nephew Antonio getting into a little trouble. A few egos got in the way and things escalated to a point of no return. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m here to squash it before anything gets out of control any further.”

  “I’m listening…”

  “I had originally entered into this situation with the hopes of a peaceful resolution, however things have taken a turn in the wrong direction,” I declared angrily. “Instead of a proper sit down between the heads of two families, I was stuck with Dante and Gypsy. This complete lack of respect has soured me greatly.”

  “I see. Were you not eventually given an audience with my son?”

  “Yes, Angelo, I was. Carmine was kind enough to offer me forty percent of my own business. As you can imagine, that was completely unacceptable. Had I been born a man instead of blessed with two tits and a hole, I have a feeling that offer might have been slightly more reasonable. But alas, I was not. It’s hell being a woman in a man’s world, Angelo. I’ve had to fight for everything twice as hard as the next guy. So, with all due respect, if that’s the best offer you’re going to give me, you can go straight to hell.”

  I leaned back casually, crossed my arms, and waited for his response.

  He blinked a few times, but remained composed.

  “No one talks to me like that and usually lives to tell the tale, Ms. Donahue.”

  “It’s a good day to die, Angelo. I’m fearless.”

  “So I’ve heard. Every rumor about you has proven itself true. You do not disappoint in the slightest. It’s refreshing.”

  Holy shit. Did he just give me a compliment after I pretty much told the guy to fuck off?

  “That being said,” he continued, “You will not ever speak to me like that again or I will dismantle your entire operation piece by piece. This city is more divided than ever. Between the Russians, Asians, and Mexicans, I can form no alliance. Each faction refuses to cooperate with the others. I would like to work out a truce with the Irish, but I’m not willing to bend very far since you are the smallest of all the gangs. Give me your best offer, because I have no patience for negotiation.”

  I nodded my head as the realization struck that I had only one shot with this powerful opponent.

  “I hand over twenty percent of my profits, and in return we offer each other mutual protection. The Italians don’t start trouble with the Irish, and vice versa. You have our backs and we have yours. Strength in numbers. You keep your turf and we keep ours. No encroaching on territory. I’d also like a mutual sharing of information. If word comes my way that I feel would be in your best interest to know about, I’ll pass it along. That goes both ways. Do we have a deal?”

  Angelo narrowed his eyes at me, giving my body the full once-over. It wasn’t leering like a pervert, but more of an appraisal as if sizing up a worthy opponent.

  “Twenty-five percent…and we add you into our Friday night fight schedule. Our operation is vastly larger than yours and it will build excitement in the ranks if we can offer new competitors.”

  “Done,” I readily accepted, standing up to shake hands and seal the deal. Once that was finished, I smiled in relief.

  Instead of appearing satisfied with the results, Angelo sadly shook his head and then quickly explained his actions.

  “I wish my sons had half of your business sense, Leandra. One is a disobedient fool with a taste for drugs and violence, while the other insists on throwing his life away out in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I would have been better off with daughters instead of sons.”

  Had I replied, it probably wouldn’t have gone over well and I was eager to get the hell out of there before I had a chance to fuck things up.

  “I think this is the beginning of a mutually beneficial partnership, Angelo. Have a good evening.”

  We managed to make our way back to the Mercedes after grabbing our weapons from the hallway and exiting peacefully. Once we peeled out of the driveway and hit the open road, I pulled out my phone to share the good news with everyone.

  “Oh shit,” I exclaimed in concern.

  “What’s wrong?” Shorty asked. “We pulled off the miracle of the century. If there’s any bad news, I don’t want to hear it. Let me bask in the afterglow for a fucking minute at least, will you?”

  Ignoring him, I scrolled through the list of missed calls. I had no less than twelve of them…all from Chrissie. Dialing her number with shaking hands, I hoped that everything was alright.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” I said greeting her cheerfully as soon as she answered. “Is everything okay?”

  Samuel instantly turned to stare at me, knowing full well I didn’t normally speak in such a syrupy voice.

  “It’s better than okay, Lee,” she replied gleefully. “You will not believe what happened to me today! I’ve been trying to call you for hours, but your phone must have been off. Did you have to work late or something?”

  I felt my heart return to its normal rhythm, fully aware of the good news she was dying to share. I might have had a certain role in the events that got her so worked up.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t take your call, but I actually did have to work tonight. My meeting just ended and I’m all yours. What happened today?”

  “Well, it’s totally exciting and I’m still in shock. I was minding my own business and feeding the chickens, when my mom started yelling that some car dealer was on the phone. Evidently I won some sort of a contest…and…you’re talking to the proud owner of a brand new Chevrolet Suburban!”

  “Shut up!” I screamed, delivering an award-winning acting performance. “Do you usually try to win stuff like that? How did you get chosen?”

  “That’s the thing! I have no clue! I asked my friend Hannah if she entered my name to win because her family has Chevys and I think that’s the dealer where they go for repairs, but she insisted it wasn’t her. I don’t even care how I won, I’m just stunned. Do you k
now much about cars? I remember you wanted that fancy Porsche or BMW or something, but I don’t know what you have. Do you realize how much this car costs new?”

  I think it’s safe to say that I have a fairly good idea.

  “How much? Forty thousand?”

  “More! It’s like the top of the line model with every single option you can imagine! This is insane! I have leather heated power seats and built-in wifi and all the safety features! It’s going to take me years just to figure out how to work the buttons!”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear because she was yelling at this point. Samuel recognized the voice and grabbed my cell.

  “Hey, what the heck is going on? Is everything okay there?”

  He turned around so I could only hear his side of the conversation, which put a major damper on the mood.

  “What are you going to do with that? This is your prize and no one else’s okay? I don’t want you to sell it and then give the money to anyone.”

  Did he not realize I already thought of the fact that she would try to somehow use it to pay down the debt of her parents? No one ever gives me any credit around here.

  “Oh, it’s a twenty-four month lease in your name only so you can’t sell it? I see.”

  My bodyguard turned back around to face me, slowly nodding his head in gratitude. He said his goodbyes and then handed over the phone so I could speak with her again.

  “I’m glad you’re having such a great day, honey. It’s getting late here, so I’ll let you go. Please remember something very important. If you get arrested for speeding in that fancy new car, I’m not bailing your ass out of jail!”

  “I’ll be careful,” she said through fits of laughter.

  After we hung up, I found myself staring at one extremely frustrated man.

  “You didn’t have to do that. I can’t pay you back right now. I would have found her something better eventually.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I responded innocently, turning to look out the window as we made our way back to my apartment. Letting out a big breath of relief, I was infinitely pleased that things had started going right for a change.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Leandra

  Left hook to the face.

  Right jab to the ribs.

  Throat punch followed by a high kick to the head.

  While it was fun to go full throttle on the punching bag in my gym, it would have been infinitely better practicing on a real target.

  Seamus.

  Betty Jo.

  Dante or Carmine.

  Even the bastard that broke my heart.

  When you’re as ruthless as I am, you tend to rack up a lot of enemies.

  Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I kept pounding away on the punching bag while trying to form a solution to my latest dilemma.

  Fight night.

  As could be expected, word spread like wildfire over the tentative truce between the Irish clan and Italian family. Angelo Barsotti played up the big news and spun it to his advantage. Portraying himself as some magical deal maker, the top dog kept spouting off about all the benefits of our new alliance. The man was no dunce. In order to obtain true cooperation, he had to get everyone involved and make it sound advantageous to even the lowliest of foot soldiers.

  What was a common motivator? Money. What brought people together? Sports. How to get our two groups in one place without unsanctioned bloodshed? Friday Fight Night. Everyone wanted in on the action and it was up to me to select some of the competitors. As head of the Irish crew, all important decisions fell to my shoulders.

  It was clear that the majority of men would have given their left nut to be able to fight, judging by the way my gym was full of sweaty guys preening and showing off their skills. However, I ignored them while burning off a little steam of my own. Just as I was about to go totally buck wild on the punching bag in a grand finale of epic proportions, I felt a tap on my shoulder and nearly had a heart attack.

  I turned around to face Samuel.

  “Can we talk for a second?” he asked hesitantly.

  My bodyguard did not look happy in the slightest, so I had a funny feeling he wasn’t going to drop to one knee, admit he made the mistake of a lifetime, and beg me to be his blushing bride.

  Such a waste of a fantastic cock that should be inside me right now.

  “What?” I growled, not in the mood for any more shit. I had enough on my plate at the moment.

  “We need to discuss the fight. It’s in three days. Who are you putting in?”

  Yes, I’m well aware that the meeting with Angelo happened only last night, and already people were discussing wagers, fighters, odds, and rules. What can I say? We like to gamble.

  “Sure as fuck not you,” I replied with complete honesty. Softening my tone, I continued, “You look like shit, Samuel. There’s no way in hell I’m putting you in any fighting ring when you have bags under your bloodshot eyes and look like you went ten rounds with the devil.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

  “I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

  “Why not? You went from hogging a twin mattress with scratchy blankets to having your own king-sized bed, memory foam pad, and high count Egyptian cotton sheets. One would assume you’d be sleeping like a baby.”

  “One would assume wrong,” he snapped with impatience. His voice grew even lower, which was quite the feat considering we were practically whispering so as not to draw attention to ourselves. Mumbling inaudibly, he said, “It’s lonely. I miss your snoring.”

  Cocking a fist back with the intention of popping that fucker right in the face, I was halted by the furious voice of one pissed off woman.

  “There you are, you dirty little whore.”

  Turning around with an eyebrow raised, I came face to face with my friend Angela.

  “Normally I would take that little term of endearment as a compliment, but in this case I’m not so sure that’s how it was meant.”

  Angie was furious. Hands on hips, eyes narrowed, face red, steam coming out of her ears. Okay, not that last one, but it might as well have been.

  “Am I not your best friend, Leandra?” she asked in a very icy tone that implied the last thing on her mind was ‘friendship.’ I’d say she came for murder instead.

  “Quit beating around the bush,” I urged impatiently, not in the mood for a pissing match. “If you have something to say, then say it.”

  Angie usually spoke with her hands, wildly flailing around while she talked, and this time was no exception. Raising a fist, she began to tick off all the reasons I was currently on her shit list.

  “Let’s start with the fact that you never showed up at my party on Sunday, causing me grave concern. Then I hear about some dangerous car chase and you go AWOL without so much as a fucking phone call. I get no word from you all week long, which is no way for a best friend to behave, and then you just magically show up out of the blue yesterday like everything is perfectly normal. But it’s not, is it? Nope. I have to find out through the grapevine that you’re back in town, you can’t be bothered to call me, and then I learn about the whole truce with the Italians! What the fuck, bitch? I used to be your sounding board. Your confidant. Your B-F-F. That stands for ‘best friend forever.’ But right now…I just feel like an S-F-S.”

  SFS? What the hell is that? I was gone for a week and I miss new slang?

  Noting the look of confusion on my face, she explained, “SFS…stupid fucking stranger!”

  “Did you just make that up?”

  “That’s beside the point! What the hell is going on with you?”

  Obviously her voice got louder and louder until it was well within ‘shrieking’ level, so I had to pull the crazy woman off to the side and out of earshot of anyone else in the place.

  “Hey, just relax and take a breath,” I urged in my best soothing voice. “A lot of shit went down on the night of your part
y, okay? I got in a high speed chase with Barsotti’s goons and had to ditch one of my cars and lay low for awhile. I specifically called Ian and told him to let you know I was safe. Did he not do that?”

  “He did,” she admitted. “But I wish you would have called me yourself. I could have helped.”

  “I’m going to be brutally honest with you, Ang. At the time, you were compromised.”

  “What?”

  “Hawk.”

  Her face fell and I could tell she was frantically trying to spin an excuse.

  “If you want to start a fight,” I snapped, not giving her a chance to reply, “then let’s discuss that, shall we? How long have you been seeing him behind my back? Do you know how I found out? Samuel had to tell me! Do you know what it’s like to hear gossip about your best friend from someone other than the woman who’s obligated by the ‘best friend code’ to tell you her secrets before anyone else knows them?”

  “You just made that up! There’s no code!” she argued.

  “Well there should be,” I countered. “Under normal circumstances, I would not care one bit if you were fucking one of my employees. However, the whole affair was behind my back and Hawk stole from me. That is a betrayal. I don’t tolerate that shit and you know it.”

  Angela held up a hand for me to stop.

  “You don’t know the whole story, Lee. Hawk never really stole the money from you. He had his suspicions that Seamus was dirty, so the only reason he took the cash was to expose the rat bastard.”

  “I see. Then why didn’t he tell me about Seamus and give back the fucking money, Angela?”

  “He knew that you would believe Seamus over him, and it took longer than anticipated to gather proof.”

  Yeah, right. I was just about to tell her that she was blinded by a pretty smile and a giant cock, when my phone chose that moment to begin ringing. I suppose it was good timing. Our little spat was going nowhere fast.

  “Hold your thought,” I said, picking up my cell and checking the caller ID.

  Unknown caller.

  Interesting. No one has this number. Well, okay, the only people that have it are trusted family and associates. Ian was kind enough to get me a new phone after I smashed the shit out of my old one the night of the car chase. What a thoughtful guy. Anyway, the new phone had my old number, so it’s not like this possibly could have been someone’s long lost aunt trying to get in touch with them.

 

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