by B. B. Hamel
She let out a breath and seemed relieved.
“Got it,” she said. “You just look too… nice to be dating a guy like him.”
“Oh, wait, no, you got it wrong,” I said, holding up my hands. “We’re not dating.”
“You’re not?”
“No, God, no, I’m a journalist. He’s just… my subject.”
She looked surprised. “You’re a journalist? Really?”
“Really,” I said. “Freelance mostly, but I get a lot of gigs from the Inquirer. I’m hoping this little profile on Vince will land me a real job.”
I didn’t know why I was telling her that, but she had the kind of open and honest face that made me want to spill my guts. I’d give anything for a face like that in my line of work.
“Huh,” she said. “I’m honestly surprised Vincent would drag a journalist around with him.”
“We have an arrangement,” I said.
The smile slipped back onto her lips. “What kind of arrangement?”
“Not what you’re thinking,” I said, clenching my jaw. “Just a professional one.”
“Well, whatever you say.” She laughed and stretched. “I remember when I first met Steven, I hated his guts. He shot me, did you know that?”
I barked a laugh then stopped when I realized she wasn’t kidding. “He shot you?”
“Well, one of his guys did, I think,” she said. “Still got the scar on my shoulder. He brought me back to his place, nursed me to health, and sort of… kept me.”
“So he kidnapped you.”
She grimaced. “Not exactly. My uncle was the head of the Celtic Club at the time.”
“Oh,” I said. “Dante mentioned them.”
“You met Dante?”
“Oh, yeah, at the bakery.”
She tilted her head. “Vince’s really showing you around, huh.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Lucky you.” She sighed a little. “Anyway, he sort of kidnapped me at first, but then it turned into a lot more than that after a while.”
I looked over at the door, toward the room where Vince was speaking with her husband.
“That’s not happening here,” I said.
“I’m sure,” she said and smiled. “But if you really don’t want that, be careful. Vince’s not such a bad guy, at least based on all the stories I’ve heard.”
“He’s not terrible,” I said. “But he’s not my type. I tend to go for guys that aren’t hardened criminals.”
“That’s what I thought too, but then Steven came along and changed my mind.” She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, sorry, I know I’m just some random stranger trying to give you advice. You don’t have to listen to me.”
I shrugged a little. “I mean, while we’re talking, what do you know about Vince?”
“Just that he’s loyal,” she said. “Always loyal to his friends. Steven knew him back in the day, and he always says Vince was the best of them, loyal to a fault. So if you’re going to fall in love, he’s not a bad one to choose.”
“I’m not falling in love,” I said.
She laughed again just as the door opened. Vince stood in the doorway and gestured at me.
“Come up if you want,” he said. “Steven said it’s okay.”
“Well, guess that’s my cue,” Colleen said. “I was just warning Mona here to be careful around you.”
Vince smirked at her. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because she’s clearly starting to have a thing for you and you mafia guys are all a bunch of dangerous assholes.” She grinned at me then headed downstairs.
I stared after her then felt my cheeks turning red. I looked up at Vince and he grinned like mad at me.
“Don’t,” I said.
“You got a thing for me?”
“Not even a little bit.” I shook my head. “She’s just remembering her own story.”
“Yeah, I bet,” he said then took a step down toward me. “Come on, little Mona. You can admit that you want me, it won’t be so bad. I’ll take good care of you.”
I shook my head and pushed him away. “Keep this up and I’ll make you a short, fat bald man in my story.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said then grabbed my hand and pulled me up toward him. I stumbled but he caught me, his other hand on my lower back. I felt his hard body against mine and took a deep breath, my breasts pressing against his abs. He was warm and big, and I really did feel small in his arms.
“Let go of me,” I said, my voice soft.
He leaned toward me, and I felt my heart hammering. His full, sensual lips were so close to mine, and I wanted to tilt my head, open my mouth, taste his tongue.
God, what the hell was wrong with me?
He moved past my lips, his mouth lingering against my ear.
“Just checking,” he whispered, then pulled away with a smirk.
I stood on the steps for a second, shaking with desire, then followed him up into the room. I knew I was blushing like mad, and I hated him for messing with me, but there was a moment just then, a short moment when I thought I’d actually kiss him, when I thought I might really love it.
God, there’s something wrong with me.
Steven sat behind a small metal desk toward the far wall. There were little TV monitors mounted on the wall to his left, and I recognized the view out in front of the building and a few shots of the patrons and the bar itself, which explained why Colleen was so willing to leave the bar empty. There were filing cabinets, folders lying around, and a large safe shoved into a corner.
Steven himself was tall, dark hair, blue eyes. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way, and wore a tight, tailored suit that clung to his muscular form. He stood as I approached and shook the hand I extended him.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Mona.”
“Mona,” he said. “Vince’s just been telling me about you.”
“Good things, I’m sure.”
He released my hand. “He says you’re okay, for a journalist.” Steven sat down. I glanced back at Vince who just grinned and shrugged.
“What can I say? You’re the enemy.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Steven. “Do you think that too?”
“I think journalists are dangerous to people like us,” he said. “But you’re not necessarily the enemy, no, not really.”
“Good,” I said. “At least one of you has some sense.”
Vince laughed and leaned up against the filing cabinet to my left, his arms crossed over his chest.
“All right,” he said. “Steven agreed to let you sit up here for a second, so go ahead and ask whatever you want to know.”
I stared at them, taken off guard. I hadn’t expected to be allowed to ask questions, especially not of a high-ranked Capo. But Steven raised an eyebrow at me and tilted his head, and I could tell he was waiting for something.
“Did you really shoot Colleen?” I asked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
He frowned then shook his head and laughed. My stomach did flips and my heart raced, and Vince stared at me like I was a crazy person.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that was Davide. Or maybe it was Chad? I actually don’t even remember who I was with that night anymore.”
“But she did get shot.”
Steven leaned back and held out his hands. “It was the beginning of a war,” he said. “She was an innocent bystander, and my guys got a little excited. I made sure she was okay, but when I realized she was the niece of my enemy, I couldn’t just let her go.”
“She explained that part,” I said.
“It’s a love story for the modern era,” Vince said with a laugh.
“It worked out for the best, at least,” Steven said
“And now you… own all this territory?” I asked. “What happened to the families of all the other gang members?”
“They’re still here,” he said. “In fact, one of the guys at the bar is the
uncle of a man I killed. Nice guy, really funny.”
“They just… live with you?” I stared at him in surprise.
“He’s doing things a little differently,” Vince said, and I detected a hint of pride, or maybe awe in his voice.
“Colleen’s idea,” Steven said. “We’re taking care of this place, helping out the families that lost guys, giving jobs to those that need them. I opened a daycare, funded a library, upgraded the park. Instead of cracking down and breaking skulls like we’ve done in the past, I’m making things better.”
“And it’s working?” I asked.
“It’s working,” he said. “It’s not nearly as profitable, I’ll be honest. But we make enough money, so why not spread it around?”
Vince laughed. “And that’s why everyone thinks he’s nuts.”
“Makes sense to me,” I said. “Win over the locals. Consolidate your control.”
Steven gave me an interested look. “You’re clever,” he said. “Vince better be careful with you.”
“Oh, I know,” Vince said. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping my distance.”
Steven laughed and sat up straight. He looked at the monitors, tilted his head, and let out a breath. I tried to follow his gaze, but he picked up a remote and turned them off with the click of a button.
“Well, that about does it for me,” Steven said. “Duty calls. Mind if you two let yourselves out?”
“Not at all,” Vince said. “Thanks for our little chat.”
“Like I said, I’ll do what I can, but no promises.” Steven stood and shook Vince’s hand. “It’s good seeing you again. Come visit more often. I’m sure New York is fine without you.”
“That’s just it,” Vince said. “New York is dull without me. They won’t let me stay too long.”
Steven laughed. I stood up, shook his hand, thanked him, and followed Vince out. We headed down the steps, through the back hall, and into the main bar. Colleen caught my eye and waved.
“Nice meeting you!” she said.
“You too.”
“Come stop by again soon,” she said. “And we can chat about these idiot mafia men.”
“I will,” I said.
Vince shook his head. “You’re putting ideas in her head,” he said. “Don’t forget, she’s the enemy.”
Colleen rolled her eyes at him, and I followed him outside into the brightening afternoon.
He opened the car door for me and gestured. “My lady,” he said.
I sighed and hesitated before getting in. “You know, I can’t believe you drive this thing,” I said.
“Why not?” he asked. “It’s nice, right?”
“It’s really nice,” I said. “But it’s so obvious. Like, aren’t you supposed to be on the down-low?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m a gangster, my darling. I can’t hide that fact any more than a fish can choose not to swim.”
“I like that you’re just openly admitting it now,” I said.
“Listen, the cars, the clothes, it’s an image,” he said. “It’s a way to project strength. We show that we have money and power so our enemies don’t think they can just come fuck with us whenever they want to.”
“I didn’t know this old BMW scared people off.”
He gave me a flat look. “Get in the car,” he said. “You can insult me all you like, but my baby’s off limits.”
“Never call your car your ‘baby’ again,” I said.
“I’ll start calling you baby if you don’t get in.” He made a sharp gesture to the seat. “Sit your pretty ass down.”
I sighed and climbed inside. He shut the door with a pleasant smile, walked around to his side, and got in. The engine fired up and he pulled out into traffic.
“Seriously,” I said, running my hand along the dash, “this car is just too obvious. If you really were serious about—”
The sentence was knocked from my throat and the words came out a strangled gasp as a huge crashing crescendo filled my ears and we were thrown sideways. I smashed up against the door and only managed to avoid getting thrown through the windshield because I was smart enough to wear my seatbelt. Broken glass scattered all over my face and lap, and I heard a grunting shout as the world rang in a high-pitched squeal.
“Mona,” I heard.
I looked around, dazed, blinking. “What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Mona, get the fuck down.” Vince swam into my vision. He unclipped my seatbelt and shoved me toward the floor. “Get the fuck down.”
“What’s going on?” I asked but dove down, curling up into a ball.
I watched as he reached behind his back and pulled out a gun.
13
Vince
It took me half a heartbeat to throw Mona down to the floor. She was dazed, cut by glass, but otherwise seemed fine. I made sure she was down and as safe as she could be before I pulled my Glock and pulled the slide back, chambering a round.
I could see the airbags had deployed in the van that smashed into our car. It was a white windowless van, the kind painters and laborers drive around, with rust around the bottom and one cracked headlight. The thing looked like it barely worked, and I guessed that’s why they chose it.
The guys inside had dark skin, and they struggled to get free of the airbags. If those bags hadn’t deployed, they’d be out already, and I don’t think I would’ve been able to stop them.
Fucking lucky.
I struggled past my own seatbelt, kicked the door open. Good thing these old cars barely gave a shit about safety. I got outside just as the one door popped open and the passenger side guy hopped out, a small submachine gun in his hands, blood tricking down his forehead.
The morons were going way too fast and weren’t halfway prepared when they slammed into my car.
My fucking beautiful car.
I put two bullets in his chest. He staggered back and I popped him one more time, firing into his skull. His head snapped back and he dropped, blood pooling on the ground. I ran to his side of the car, keeping low, as the driver jumped out.
The dead guy was definitely Latino, wide dark jeans, light brown t-shirt. The submachine gun meant they were serious players, not some dime-store gangsters that wanted to get a little score. These were no joke muscle.
The driver opened fire, bullets scattering over my head. I moved toward the back of the car as glass shattered. I didn’t know if there was anyone inside, and I couldn’t take the risk. The back door remained shut, and I grabbed the handle, yanking it open.
Two more guys with guns stared out at me.
“Fuck,” I said as I threw myself to the side. They opened fire, blasting holes in the doors. I rolled, got up, ran to the line of cars. The driver came around the van and walked toward me, firing his gun. I dove behind a red SUV and fired back, keeping his attention on me. I had to make sure they didn’t go after Mona, I had to make sure she was okay.
I poked my head up, fired a few more shots. I saw the two guys in the back jump out and shoot at me. I was pinned down and they had way too much firepower. I cursed again as bullets ricocheted off the pavement around me.
I ran again, diving behind a beige sedan, and fired a few more shots. I got lucky and nailed the driver in the leg as he tried to come around my BMW. He staggered and dropped to one knee, and I was about to finish him off when more gunfire from the other two forced me back into hiding.
“Don’t make this hard, man,” one of the guys yelled, I couldn’t tell which one. His English was accented, and I was definitely sure these were cartel boys.
And I was pretty sure I knew which cartel.
The fucking Jalisco.
I popped up, shot at the closest one, forced them back behind the van. I fired at the driver again as he fell to the ground and rolled to the side.
But the two guys got ballsy and came out as I tried to kill the driver again. They lit me up, ripped bullets into the car, and I had to hide. They were coming closer, firing as they walked, and
I knew I was fucked.
Until I heard more gunshots, but off to the side, from down the street. I heard a scream and one of the Jalisco went down, clutching his gut. I jumped up and fired, slamming my bullets into the last guy’s chest. He staggered, got hit by a few more shots from down the street, and dropped.
Steven came running toward us, rifle held up, eye sighted down its length. He motioned at me and I pointed toward the wounded driver. I came out of hiding and joined him, and together we went around the car.
The driver tried to drag himself away. Steven walked up to the guy and stomped down on the bullet wound. He screamed in pain and I pressed the warm muzzle of my gun against his head.
“Who sent you?” I asked.
“Fuck you,” he said.
“Tell me who sent you and I’ll make it quick,” I said, then lowered my gun to point at his gut. “Or keep your mouth shut and I’ll make it slow.”
He groaned, shook his head. “Mercy,” he said.
“Who. Sent. You?”
“Jalisco,” he whispered. “We’re fucking Jalisco, man, and we’re going to burn your whole—”
I shot him in the skull. His head snapped back, blood spurted all over the concrete, and he didn’t finish his sentence.
“You okay?” Steven asked.
I nodded. “They’re all down now.”
“Fuck,” he said. “Fucking fuck. I can’t believe they’d do this.”
“Mona.” I ran to the car and threw the door open. She was huddled on the floor still, her body trembling, her hands over her head. “Mona, Mona, it’s okay,” I said, coaxing her out.
She threw herself at me. I grabbed her and lifted her out, up into my arms. I held her tight against me.
“You have to go,” Steven said. “I’ve got a car near here. Come on.”
I followed Steven, Mona in my arms. I kept her close against me, and I could feel her breathing hard, trembling like a leaf.
I knew she’d be fucked up from this.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. I knew the Jalisco didn’t fuck around, but I never once imagined they’d try to kill me in broad daylight, not to mention so fast. They barely gave us any notice, and they’re already trying to pull shit like that.