by B. B. Hamel
“Nah, I’m good. Maybe coffee if they got it.”
I gestured to Aida and she stepped forward. I noticed Gerardo’s eyes moved down her body and an appreciative smile came to his lips.
“This is Aida,” I said. “She’s mine. She’ll be listening in. And you know Steven.”
Gerardo pulled his gaze from Aida and nodded to Steven. “What’s up, man?”
“Hey, Gerardo. Thanks for coming.”
“Well, when the biggest, baddest Capo in the Leone Family comes calling, I gotta pick up.” Gerardo sat down and I went behind the bar. I found the coffee machine, took a second to figure out how it worked, and found some ground coffee in a drawer underneath the bar. I got it brewing a minute later.
“I hope you know we’ve been very appreciative of your assistance lately,” I said to Gerardo. Aida sat at the bar a few stools down from Gerardo, leaning forward and showing off even more of her breasts. I couldn’t help but smirk a bit as Gerardo kept sneaking glances in her direction. Steven sat at a table behind Gerardo, and I thought I saw him playing with something in his waistband, probably his Glock.
“Anything, anything, man,” Gerardo said. “We don’t like war, war’s expensive and what’s the point of killing if all it does is bring down heat, right? We want peace on the streets, especially now that we’re moving into this territory.”
“I’m not sure your bosses see it that way,” I said, still on the other side of the bar. Mikey came out a moment later with a platter of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and waffles. He placed it down and nodded at me then hurried into the back.
Gerardo laughed at the food and ate some bacon. “Good friend, man,” he said.
I poured him some coffee when it finished. “My Don spoke to me about your organization,” I said, steering the conversation to business.
Gerardo sipped the coffee. “Yeah? Did he?”
“The Don told me that your organization isn’t happy that I interrupted your deal with Vlas.”
Gerardo frowned. “Not what I heard.”
“Tell me what you heard.”
“You made a good offer, man,” Gerardo said. “Vlas was hard to work with, kept making demands, changing terms, pushing timelines back. My boss was getting fucking sick of him, man, and when you came along offering to buy him out, my boss was like, yeah, fuck it. Let’s fucking go for it, right? You Italians, man, you’re a bunch of violent bastards, but at least you pay on time and don’t fuck around on the details.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That sounds about right.”
“So I don’t know what your Don is hearing or whatever, but I’m telling you, man, this is a good thing. My boss is happy, he just wants to set shit up with you and get paid, you know?”
“That works for me,” I said. “I need to get approval from my Don, but I’m ready to start taking shipments from your people, and the price still stands.”
“Good man, good. Well, shit, this was an easy meeting.” Gerardo grinned at me.
Aida leaned toward the two of us and spoke up. “But Dante’s forgetting something,” she said.
Gerardo turned to her. “What’s that, girl?”
“He’s forgetting why we’re here. We want Vlas, and we want him right now. If you want any of this to move forward, we need his location. We can’t be doing big deals with any cartel with an enemy still at our back.”
Gerardo looked shocked that she spoke like that then turned to stare at me. “This bitch for real?” he asked.
I put both my hands on the bar top and leaned toward him. “Yes, she’s for real,” I said. “And if you call her a bitch again, I’ll cut your throat out. Understood?”
Gerardo gaped at me then burst out laughing. “Fuck, man, you Italians. Like I said, violent bastards. But all right, all right. She’s your girl, I respect it.”
“We need Vlas’s location,” I said. “You want anything to happen with me and my family, I need to know where Vlas is.”
“I hear you.” He sipped his coffee, playing for time, a little smile on his lips again. “Here’s the thing, man. I know you’ve been making offers out on the street for Vlas, you hear me? I know he’s worth a lot to you. And now you want me to just give him up. Seems stupid, right?”
“I’ll offer you fifty grand,” I said. “That’s the friends and family price.”
He laughed. “I can’t take your money,” he said. “I take your money and my boss asks for a cut of it. I can’t do that shit, you hear me?”
“Fine,” I said, nodding. “What do you want then?”
Gerardo’s eyes moved over to Aida. His gaze drifted down her body, lingered on her breasts, and he licked his lips. “Let me get a taste of your girl,” he said. “Just right here, right now. Ten minutes, that’ll be more than enough.”
I moved fast. I reached out across the bar while he still stared at Aida, grabbed him by the hair, and jerked his head forward. I slammed it down onto the top of the bar as hard as I could. I heard his nose crunch against the wood as it snapped and broke, blood pouring from his nostrils. He stumbled back off his stool, let out a scream, one hand trying to staunch the blood, the other reaching for something in his back waistband.
“I wouldn’t,” Steven said, up on his feet, his Glock pressed against Gerardo’s head. “I wouldn’t move a muscle, you little prick.”
Gerardo let out a growl but raised his hands. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” he said as blood dripped down his face and onto his shirt. “What the fuck is with you? I was just fucking around, you fucking bitch.”
I walked around the bar and pulled my own gun from my waistband. I held it easily in my hand. I could see Aida’s eyes were wide, and I couldn’t tell if she was afraid or excited. I thought it might be both, and the thought brought a smile to my lips.
“Listen to me,” I said, my voice low. “If you ever insult Aida again, I will kill you. I should kill you now, but you’re still useful. So you’re going to tell me where Vlas is, and in exchange, I’m going to let you leave here alive.”
“Puto, you fucking pendejo,” he said and spit on the ground. “Fuck you. I’m not giving you shit, bitch. You just started a fucking war, bitch.”
“Now, come on, Gerardo,” I said. “You think your bosses are going to war with mine right now? They need a new buyer and I’m the only game in town. No, I’m going to tell your bosses that you insulted my woman, and they’re going to drop the whole thing. Or we can avoid that embarrassing situation and you can tell me where Vlas is right now. That way we can all get what we want and move on.”
Gerardo stared at me and I could see the hate and rage in his eyes. I thought he might do something stupid. Gangsters rarely thought their situation through, but somewhere in his little brain, he knew I was right. I had him over a fucking barrel. With Vlas out of the picture, the Leone Family was the only game big enough to buy their drugs and distribute them effectively. Without us, the Jalisco wouldn’t have a good connection in the city, and they’d have to resort to selling it cheap and piecemeal to all the gangs and smaller families.
“Fucking bitch,” he said again. “Vlas is going to be in an apartment on South Street, right above that German bar, you know that one? With the big doors out front? That fucking place. He’s not there yet, but he will be there tomorrow night.”
“How do you know?” I said.
“Told me himself. He’s paranoid, moving around. He still wants to try and make a deal work with us, the stupid fuck. That enough for you? You want fucking more, puto?”
“That’ll be fine,” I said then looked at Steven. “Take his gun.”
Steven knocked Gerardo’s hands away then lifted his shirt and took the weapon gingerly. It was a little six-shooter, a revolver, not the kind of weapon I thought Gerardo would carry. Steven put it down on a table and Gerardo stared hate at me.
“You want anything else? You want my fucking shirt, too?”
“No, you’re free to go.” I gestured with my gun. “Better run, too. I
might decide you deserve worse for what you said about my girl.”
Gerardo stood there, glared for a moment, then stalked off. He stomped up the steps, walked to the front door, and threw it open. He disappeared outside and into the early morning.
Steven let out a breath. “Shit, Dante,” he said.
I grinned at him. “What?”
“You think that was smart? Pissing him off?”
“He’s nothing. Just some overpaid soldier. He doesn’t matter, not anymore.” I turned to Aida and took a step toward her. She bit her lip and tilted her head, and she hadn’t moved a muscle that whole time. “Are you okay?” I asked her.
She nodded once. “I’m okay,” she said.
“Good.” I reached out a hand. “I’m sorry for what he said.”
“It’s okay. I can’t blame him. I do look good today.”
I grinned as she accepted my hand and I helped her to her feet. Mikey came out from the back, wringing his hands. He looked around, saw some blood on the bar and the floor, then finally looked at the uneaten food.
“That… didn’t go well,” he said. “Didn’t go well at all.”
“Sorry about the mess, Mikey. Food looks good though.” I reached into my pocket and took out a roll of twenties, tossing it onto the bar. I think it was about two hundred, but I wasn’t exactly sure, and didn’t really care. “I appreciate your help.”
He nodded and didn’t move a muscle as I pulled Aida along toward the steps. We walked up together with Steven just behind us, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I led the group back to the car in silence, wary of Gerardo trying to get the drop on us in some misguided attempt at revenge, but we made it with no issues. I climbed up front and Aida got into the back.
Steven looked a little relieved as he got up front. “What now?” he asked.
“Now, we plan on a little visit to that apartment tomorrow night,” I said.
“You believed him?” Aida asked.
“I did,” I said. “Moving around is exactly something Vlas would do.”
She nodded and went silent, looking out the window.
“And in the meantime?” Steven asked.
“In the meantime, I was thinking we’d start burning this city to the ground.” I gave Steven a wicked grin. “Let’s go to the bakery. We have some plans to put in motion.”
Steven smiled, shook his head, and put the car into gear. We pulled out and I leaned back in my seat, feeling content for the first time in a while.
29
Aida
The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Dante began to send his guys out on little strike missions, attacking businesses owned by the Russians, stealing all their money, forcing their owners to flip their allegiances over to the Leone Family. All day long, soldiers came and went, some of them bloody from a fight, but each one reported the same thing.
Success, always success.
All over Eastwick and Gray’s Ferry, they were winning. The few Russians left in Vlas’s gang were either dead or running. A few buildings were burning, cars were flipped over, blood was spilled. But slowly, Gray’s Ferry was flipping, and Eastwick would be next.
All the while, we sat in Sergio’s bakery and orchestrated it all from afar.
Dante paced around the room, barking orders at his men when they came in. I sat in the corner watching, my stomach doing strange flips. All I could do was sip coffee and nibble on a pastry and replay that early morning meeting in my mind.
Dante didn’t have to hurt that Jalisco guy. He could’ve told him off, or just refused him and made it clear that he was being insulting. Instead, he decided to hurt him, decided to take it far. And part of me felt so excited and grateful that Dante wouldn’t let someone talk about me like that, even if he was a member of a powerful cartel.
He showed no fear, no hesitation. Dante defended me without a second thought.
Pride and something else bloomed all through me as I watched my man work.
Slowly, the day passed. More reports came in, and by the time the sun went down, Gray’s Ferry was completely flipped to the Leone family. Dante put a few of his soldiers in charge of holding it for the time being as he called his victories in to the Don’s man, who sounded very pleased about his progress.
We ate a small dinner of sandwiches one of his soldiers brought from a deli down the block. When we finished, it was just after eight in the evening, and Dante stood up. He smiled at me and held out a hand. I stood up and walked to him, and he pulled me up against his chest.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said.
“Really?”
He nodded. “I hope you like it. Would you like to see?”
I bit my lip. “I think so,” I said.
“Good.” He turned and looked over at Ryan who was sitting in the corner. Steven was out supervising their first push into Eastwick and would be busy for the next few hours. “Bring the car around,” Dante said.
Ryan jumped up and ran outside. Dante smiled at me, took my hand, and led me out to the curb. Sergio stood behind the counter, watching without a word, wiping his hands over and over with a white kitchen towel.
We stepped out into the night. I leaned up against my man, a smile on my lips. There was a small red stain on his lapel that I hadn’t noticed earlier, and it took me a moment to realize that it was Gerardo’s blood.
For some reason, that made me reach up and run my fingers into Dante’s hair. I stood on my toes and pressed my body against his, kissing him deep and slow. He kissed me back, a little purr on his lips.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Just because,” I said.
The car pulled up to the curb and Dante opened the back door. “After you,” he said.
I got in then Dante followed. He shut the door behind him then leaned forward. “Take us to Lucky’s,” he said.
Ryan shrugged, put the car into gear, and pulled forward. We glided out into traffic and moved north, winding through the small city streets, through the Girard Estates neighborhood and into Gray’s Ferry. The demarcation wasn’t clear, but I did notice one thing.
Nobody was out walking the streets past a certain point.
It was quiet, dead quiet. I saw a laundromat with windows smashed. I saw a car, burned out and half flipped on its side. I saw a bar with its door broken down, smashed into pieces. It looked like a hurricane had ripped through a relatively clean and quiet family neighborhood, and I could only imagine the chaos of the day before.
My heart was beating fast as Dante took my hand and smiled.
“This is what happens when someone fucks with me,” he said, nodding at the street. “This is what it’s like to burn the city.”
“Where are the cops?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“They were here earlier,” Dante said. “But nobody saw a thing. That’s the beauty of the mafia. Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody talks. Police leave with shit.”
I looked out the window as Ryan pulled the car over in front of a row of businesses at the end of a block of rowhomes. There was another dry cleaner’s that avoided attack, a Chinese food restaurant, and a bar that was painted red and white on the outside with a big neon sign along the side. The sign said LUCKY’S and glowed a brilliant orange.
“Here we are,” Dante said. “Ryan, stay here. We won’t be long.” He opened the door and slipped out of the car then helped me out. I stood on the sidewalk, looking at the building. Some of the windows were broken, but not too many, and the door was still on its hinges.
“What is this?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” Dante said. “Come on.”
He walked to the door and pushed it open. I followed as he moved into a wide club with a bar to the right. Tables were flipped and there was glass on the floor, and a stage with three stripper poles was positioned in the very center of the large, high-ceilinged room.
The decor was meant to evoke 1920s glamour, with black and white flapper girls in framed pictures all over the walls.
The booths were deep velvet and draped in reds and black. The bar looked like it used to be nice, though the taps were broken and more bottles were smashed.
Three men stood on the stage. I recognized Biagio, but not the other two. Sitting at their feet, looking bored and annoyed, were eight girls wearing skimpy outfits.
Dante crunched over the glass and turned as I stopped near the door. He turned and beckoned for me, and for a moment I couldn’t move. I got a strange feeling inside of me, a voice telling me to turn around and get out before it was too late.
But then Dante smiled and gestured again, and I smiled back.
I couldn’t help myself. I walked to him and he slipped an arm around my shoulders. “This is Lucky’s,” he said. “Finest gentlemen’s club in the city. Or at least it used to be. This was one of Vlas’s most profitable businesses, and from now on, it’s going to be yours.”
I looked up at him in shock. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re going to run this place. You’re going to own it. I’ll take a cut of the money, of course, but the profits will largely go into your pocket.”
I shook my head. “Dante. I don’t know anything about… about running a strip club.”
He laughed. “You’ll learn. Come on, meet the girls. They’ve been waiting for you.” He tugged me along behind him and gestured at the eight bored-looking women sitting on the stage. Dante gestured at the guys standing behind them and they climbed down, looking relieved.
The girls stared at us and one of them, a blonde with big fake tits and one too many lip injections, shimmied up onto her knees. “Do you know how long we’ve been fuckin’ sittin’ here?” she said. “I’m so fuckin’ sick of this shit. Are you shuttin’ us down or what? Can I fuckin’ go home?”
Dante stared at her. “Sit down,” he said.
She opened her mouth but the redhead next to her tugged on her arm. The blonde grunted and slumped down.
I stepped up next to Dante and looked at the girls. They seemed tired, upset, and scared. Some of them seemed legitimately pretty. The youngest was probably nineteen, and the oldest was likely in her late thirties.