Last Stop

by Lou Harper

  Sam was up to something much worse than dumping him. He was going to get himself killed. Jay tried desperately to convince himself otherwise, but all the pieces of the Sam puzzle finally fell into place for him. It all made sense—the way Sam blamed himself for the deaths of Vince and Mikey, how he’d stayed in Coldwater for years when he could’ve left. He finally understood that Sam did that to punish himself. And now, there was no other reason for Sam to stay in LA than to face Joey Gianco and his thugs—and the reason for that was that Joey would never stop looking for Sam, but Jay would be of no interest to him anymore once Sam was dead, and Sam knew it.

  Jay knew there was no way he could get on that plane. He turned around and hurried back in the direction he came from.

  By the time he made his way back to the gate, Sam was already gone. He had to force himself not to run and attract attention. Fortunately, fast-walking travelers were common at airports. He was late anyway—the bike was gone from the garage, a single helmet left on the dirty concrete floor. Jay picked it up and hurried to the taxi stand. If Jay was right about Sam—and Jay had no doubts about that—then Sam could’ve gone to only one place. The loft.

  While in the cab, Jay found his phone. It was in his backpack. He dialed, but Sam wasn’t picking up. Jay stared at the phone for a while, scrambling for ideas, then he dialed the other number Sam had made him memorize. The voicemail picked up. Jay figured he had nothing to lose by leaving a message.

  “Hello, Mr. Jones. This is Jay—you don’t know me, but you know my friend Sam, Sam Mayne. You might know him as Robert something…but you must know him as Sam too. The stupid asshole is going to get himself killed because of me. I’m pretty sure he went to the loft, but Nicky and Gino must know about it if they found us at Ombre.” Jay wanted to kick himself for not making much sense, so he rattled off the address of the loft before the message filled up. “I’m gonna go there now. Sam said he trusted you. Where the fuck are you and why don’t you answer the fucking phone? We could really use some help. Anyway, if things go bad…” Jay didn’t know how to finish that sentence, so he hung up.

  Jay had the cab drop him off blocks from their place. He crept down the street, sticking close to the wall, ducking into doorways, watching for anything suspicious. When he got to their block he crouched down behind a parked car at the corner and did nothing but watch the street for ten minutes. Sam’s Harley was parked outside, in front of their driveway. It confirmed all of Jay’s suspicions. Once he was certain it was safe, Jay quickly crossed the street and sidled up to the first doorway—Myra’s. He banged on the door.

  “Hey, Jay, how’s it going?” Myra greeted Jay with a big smile that faltered as Jay pushed inside. “Something wrong?”

  “I locked myself out. Can I use your skylight?”

  Jay started up the stairs, but stopped. Something Sam once said pestered him. He stopped and turned around.

  “Myra?”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you do something for me?”

  “That depends. What is it?”

  “Go out. Just for a few hours. Please?”

  Myra looked at him with worry. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

  Jay bit his lip. “I can’t tell you, but it’s very important. It’s not safe for you to be here. Please?” Jay was begging.

  “Is it Sam?”

  “It’s not like that. He wouldn’t hurt me or anyone.” Jay wasn’t sure about the anyone part but it wasn’t the time for splitting hairs.

  Myra squinted at him. “You have a phone?”

  Jay nodded and took his phone out. Myra gave him her number and Jay obediently entered it into his phone’s memory.

  “If you don’t call me in exactly one hour, I’m calling the police.”

  “Thank you!”

  Myra grumbled something, picked up the army-surplus shoulder bag she used as a purse and dashed out the door.

  Jay muted his phone and went upstairs to let himself out through the skylight. The layout was almost exactly the same, but while their place was almost Spartan, Myra’s was full of knickknacks, random stuff and color. Another time Jay wouldn’t have minded spending some time there.

  There was nobody else on the roof. He walked across quietly, coming to a crouch before reaching their window. He listened first but there were no sounds coming from inside that he could hear. Jay cautiously peeked over the edge. There was no movement in the room below. Fortunately, the window was open as always—otherwise it would’ve gotten too stuffy without AC. The screen opened from the inside, but Jay could push it in pretty easily. Once inside he could make out a light murmur of voices from downstairs, but not the words. Jay knew Sam had a gun hidden under the kitchen sink. If he could get to it he’d have a chance against the two thugs.

  Jay tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen. Being halfway inside the kitchen cabinet looking for the gun, he didn’t see or hear the figure coming up behind him. However, he could definitely feel the iron grip of the hands that grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him out.

  “Hello, kid,” said Gino Rizzi.

  Chapter Fifteen

  JG: You better not fucking tell me you let a couple of fags knock you out again!

  NT: No, Boss, we got them.

  JG: About fucking time!

  Time. Sam wished he had put a clock on the wall somewhere downstairs. They had never used the space for anything other than storing the car and the bike, and of course for flogging. It was almost empty now, the car being in a parking garage a few blocks away, and the bike out on the street. There were metal folding chairs stacked against a wall and a case of bottled water in the corner. And of course Sam, bound to the wall at the spot where Jay would be in happier times. The cuffs were tight around his wrist, Nicky made sure of that. Sam wanted this to be over, but there was nothing for him to do but wait. Nicky was on the phone with Joey. Gino went upstairs to do fuck knew what. It was the moment of quiet before the shit storm.

  Sam had allowed himself to be “captured” by Nicky and Gino, and be trussed up after a token resistance. It had all gone according to plan. He hadn’t been surprised to find only the two of them there. Joey was a coward, probably hiding at a safe distance till the scene was secured for him to waltz in. Sam counted on that too. There was one thing he didn’t count on though.

  “Look what I found!”

  The smugness dripping from Gino’s voice filled Sam with a sick feeling. He didn’t want to, but had to look. At the sight of Jay on the stairs, the blood in Sam’s veins turned into ice water. That scene was his worst nightmare coming true in full Technicolor. It took every last sliver of his self-control to keep it together. He reminded himself that he could not afford to lose his head. He needed all his wits about him if he hoped to get either of them, but especially Jay, out of this mess alive. A part of Sam wanted to lash out in blind fury, but he couldn’t afford emotions to cloud his mind. He took all his fear and anger, wrapped them into a tight ball, and shoved them into a remote corner of his mind, then schooled his face into an expression of cool indifference.

  “Joey will be pleased,” Nicky crowed.

  His cold, lizard eyes stayed on Sam even as Gino manhandled Jay down the steps. Sam fought to keep emotions from showing on his face. He wasn’t gonna give the bastard the satisfaction.

  “Where do you want him?” Gino asked, referring to Jay. His paws gripped Jay by both arms.

  Nicky finally looked away from Sam to scan the room. “Over there,” he said pointing at the water pipes running along the wall, close to the corner.

  As Gino shoved Jay forward, Sam got a glimpse of the plastic zip-ties stretched around Jay’s wrists, cutting into his skin. Gino pushed Jay into a sitting position and used another zip-tie to secure Jay to the pipes.

  Sam took a sideways look at Jay. There were fresh bruises around his left eye, and his lip was split. He’d gotten off easy, considering, but it meant only that Gino was taking his time to get his payback, or even more importantly
, that the main show belonged to Joey.

  “You watch them till I get back with the boss,” Nicky barked at Gino.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll have a good time,” Gino sniggered.

  “Just don’t have too much fun. Joey’s been waiting for this for a long time.” Nicky left, slamming the door behind himself.

  Sam shot a warning look at Jay, hoping he would get the message and keep his mouth shut. He seemed to. The wheels in Sam’s head were turning at a furious pace. All his plans were shot, and he had to come up with new ones fast. Getting out of his restraints would be a good start. The chains were bolted to the wall at two very exact spots to best fit Jay, but Sam was taller. If he stretched just right he could probably reach the buckles of one cuff with his other hand. Doing it without attracting attention would be the challenge.

  Gino looked at Sam with a cruel kind of amusement, like a little kid about to rip off the wings of a fly.

  “I never figured you for a queer,” he said.

  Sam shrugged as much as his restraints allowed. At least the movement let him change the position of his hands without drawing attention. “Not all queers are sissies.”

  “I guess I know who the girl is, then,” Gino commented, leering at Jay.

  It sent Sam’s heart into a panicked frenzy, but Sam knew that letting any of it show would be a huge mistake. So he shrugged again, bringing the fingers of his left hand to within touching distance of the cuff around his right wrist.

  Gino was still staring at Jay. “You used to fuck girls. I don’t get how you go from pussy to fucking that.”

  Gino sneered the last word like some juvenile schoolyard bully and looked disappointed for not getting a rise out of either of them.

  Sam took care to keep his voice devoid of emotion. “He gives very good head.”

  Gino’s beady eyes finally turned to Sam, who did his best to look as blasé as a man chained to a wall possibly could. He knew he had to keep Gino away from Jay, keep him occupied with something else. The best way to do it was to use Gino’s weakness—the stupid fucker loved to talk.

  “Gino, tell me something,” Sam asked.

  Gino gave him a wary look. “What?”

  “How did you find us in Montana?”

  “It was the private dick.”

  “Rapalski?”

  “Yeah him. He got close to someone that was on your detail during the trial—a retired US Marshal. Got out of him that you were relocated to Deer Creek, Montana.”

  Sam didn’t have to pretend his surprise. “Deer Creek? Never been there in my life.”

  “Yeah, we figured that out.”

  And there it was. Gino wanted to tell the story, to hear his own voice. With an inward sigh of temporary relief, Sam watched Gino take one of the chairs, unfold it and place his fat ass on it. As he leaned back and crossed his arms, he could have been shooting shit in a bar.

  “It’s some piss-ass town in the middle of fucking nowhere. We had to fly in to Butte and rent a car to get there and all for nothing. Nicky was pissed as hell. He wanted to beat the shit out of the drunk asshole who gave us the wrong info, but that Polak weasel talked him out of it. He said he’d sort it out himself.”

  Sam suspected that the “Polak”—Rapalski—had more brains than the other three put together.

  “That was probably a good idea. You don’t fuck with the Feds—it’s bad for business.” Sam didn’t add that Big Sal would never have considered something so stupid.

  Gino looked unconcerned. “Nicky wanted to find you almost as bad as Joey. He hates rats even more than fags.” Gino snorted. “To think we almost ran into you by accident. Shit, if you’d been in the diner and not your little boyfriend when we stopped for coffee, that would’ve been it.”

  From the corner of his eye Sam saw Jay squirming, flexing his arms. Sam wanted to yell at him to stay still but he didn’t even dare to look that way, lest Gino took an interest in Jay again. Sam concentrated on keeping Gino’s attention on himself.

  “So how did the PI find us in the end?” he asked.

  “Fuck if I know. ‘Following the paper trail’ he said. Rapalski was sure his guy had just mixed up the place names, being pickled most of the time. It turns out he was right. Coldwater, Deer Creek—it’s all water.”

  So it would have ended in Montana if Sam hadn’t caught the news about Mikey. As fucked up as it was, Mikey’s death had saved them. For a while anyway.

  Gino stood up and started pacing. That was the problem with Gino, he got easily bored, and when he was bored he got destructive. Sam didn’t like the frequent glances Gino was giving Jay either. Knowing Gino, he was still smarting from having been knocked out earlier. It didn’t help that Jay kept squirming.

  “Why did you kill Mikey? It couldn’t get you anything useful,” Sam asked to get Gino’s attention back.

  “That was all Joey. You have no idea how fucking much he hates you for putting him in the slammer. He can’t stop talking about all the things he wants to do to you.” Gino’s leer as he said it was particularly nasty.

  Sam had a very good idea of Joey’s sick imagination, but delving into that wasn’t gonna do him any good. Feigning a lack of concern, he shrugged again.

  Gino went on. “Then the dick dug up that you had something with that lawyer guy, Michael something, and that he was a queer. Shit, Joey just about blew his top. He went apeshit, like with Vince.”

  That revelation came at Sam from his blind spot, and he winced before he could check his reactions. It made Gino look very satisfied. Sam wiped all traces of emotion off his face, and forced his voice to come out neutral. “So how did you find us here?”

  “That was the dick again. He couldn’t find anything on you after you skipped out, so he dug into your little faggot friend’s shit,” Gino said, indicating Jay. “Took him some digging, but then he found this old queen in St. Louis, who after some persuasion, fessed up to seeing your fuck buddy here in LA.”

  Sam was confused about that till Jay, who’d been quiet all this time, cried out, “What did you do to Jeff?”

  “Don’t worry, his nose will heal,” Gino sniggered.

  He contemplated Jay with an expression that told Sam the wheels in his head were turning—slow and heavy and to nothing good.

  Sam grasped for conversational material. “How’s your sister?”

  “What the fuck do you care?” Gino glared at him, face darkening. His sister was notoriously slutty, and it had always been a sore spot for Gino.

  “I’m just curious. She’s the last woman I banged.” It wasn’t true, but Gino wouldn’t know that.

  Sam realized he’d overshot the mark as the purple-faced Gino lifted a fist and hit him on the side of his head. Then it all went black.

  It happened so fast, Jay could only gasp when the fucker hit Sam. Then Jay quickly clamped his mouth shut. Sam hanging limp from the chains was a scary sight. It meant he was all alone with a dangerous man and more on the way. Gino himself looked equal parts angry and irked. Jay guessed knocking Sam out was not going to make Gino popular. He was right.

  The two of them were eyeing each other when the door banged open and a stranger walked in with Nicky Torino at his heels. Jay recognized Joey Gianco from the photographs. They took one quick glance at Jay before Sam’s limp figure got their attention.

  “Gino, you stupid fuck, you better not have killed him,” Joey Gianco growled. He had a greasy voice, like his vocal cords were wrapped in bacon.

  “Nah, he’s just out cold,” Gino explained, chagrined.

  “Wake him the fuck up then. This won’t be fun with the asshole being out cold.”

  Gino shrugged and pulled a nasty-looking switchblade out of his pocket. “No problem.”

  Jay had used the time while he was ignored to his advantage, but he recognized it was his cue. “Hi there, you must be Joey Gianco, right?”

  All three of the gangsters turned and stared at him incredulously. Then they stepped closer like a pack of hungry hyenas.
They looked that fucking scary too, but at least their backs were to Sam, allowing Jay to look at them and keep an eye on Sam too.

  Jay had a plan. Sort of. He had a secret that could give him the element of surprise but he needed Sam for it to work. The training from Bill had helped him a few times already, but there were limits to that. He had no chance against three armed heavies all by himself. And talk about heavies—all three were on the beefy side. In Joey’s case it was mostly fat—he was not huge, but definitely pudgy.

  Jay knew what he had to do—distract the three till Sam came to. He hoped it wouldn’t be long. It was a huge gamble, but he had no other choice. Jay grabbed the water pipe behind him with both hands, to better conceal his secret, and raised himself to his knees. He swallowed his fear and smiled coyly at his captors.

  “It’s nice to meet you at last. I heard a lot about you.”

  Nicky and Gino scowled at him, but Joey’s plump face contorted into an unpleasant smile.

  “You’re a cocky little fag, aren’t you?” He gave the appearance of a big, lazy cat that enjoyed playing with its dinner.

  “Nah, just practical. You guys are so very butch—it’s so fucking hot. We could have so much fun,” Jay said, batting his eyelids. He went for a decidedly over-the-top, queenish flair. Might as well play to the stereotype. It sure got their attention.

  “We could, couldn’t we? If we were fags like you,” Gino said, but instead of angry he sounded playful. It was much scarier.

  Jay saw in their expressions that Joey’s minions took their cue from their boss, and were ready to toy with him. Jay was determined to give them some entertainment to draw it out as long as he could, giving Sam a chance to come to.