It stings to hear the truth lash across my face like that, even worse to see the pain fracturing his eyes.
“Don’t you trust me to keep you safe?”
Of course I do.
“I just wanted to take care of him myself.”
How can I tell him that I’m trying to be a better person? I don’t want to have to rely on anyone. That’s what I did before, with Dad. That’s all.
“No. Your job is to stay home and keep your legs open for your husband, to take his cock whenever he needs you to. Protecting you is my job.”
His hand suddenly grabs my ass as he leans in, crushing his lips to mine as his fingers burrow in my hair. My heart pounds as his tongue shoves inside my mouth, tasting me. Heat burns my face as I imagine the people in the mall, staring at the spectacle we’re making. Nothing compares to the horror I feel—Rafael is watching. He’s going to know something is up.
He ends the kiss, breathing hard as he rests his forehead against mine. “I can’t fucking stand it—can’t take it that he fucking had you in a motel room.”
Bile rises up my throat. “Tony, nothing happened.”
His hands shake at his sides as he looks away from me, overcome with emotion. He can’t look at me.
It’s as though he can’t stand the sight of me.
My voice is small. “I’m sorry.”
He explodes. “That fucker is the only one who’s going to be sorry. He fucked my wife!”
The bottom drops out of my stomach. That’s what he thinks? “I didn’t let him. Tony, I swear!”
“FUCK!”
My heart hammers against my chest as he stands up, yanking me with him. I’ve never seen him so upset. The grip on my hand is almost painful as he marches me through the crowd, his chest pulsing like a bull’s. His arms are flushed with blood. “I’m going to inflict as much pain on that bastard as possible.”
I dig in my heels, stopping him. The face that looks at me isn’t one I recognize. It’s ugly, full of hate and a twisted malice.
“Nothing happened. I didn’t let him touch me.”
“It doesn’t matter to them!”
His nostrils flare as he looks at me with a tortured look.
Them?
“My boss—all my fucking colleagues are going to think that I’m some fucking joke.”
“You know what really happened. Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?”
He stares at me for a moment, his face blank. “My reputation matters, sweetheart. If people think I’m a chump, why the fuck should they pay up on time?” His seething heat surrounds me as he grabs my upper arm. “You matter to me. I care what people think of my wife. A man who can’t keep his wife in line isn’t a fucking man.”
“I’m not your goddamn property.”
Then he draws me closer, until my fists are against his chest and a warm smile spreads across his face. “Yeah? That’s not what you said last night.”
I’m amazed at how hot my face gets when he gives me that searing, confident look and the smile that always makes my butterflies out of control.
Tension balls in my stomach as he leads us outside.
It feels like a fist inside me, squeezing my organs until stars burst in my vision. Oblivious to my anxiety, Tony pulls my hand and leads me into the crisp outdoors.
“Where is he?”
I expect Rafael to jump from around the corner, gun blazing.
“He’s probably gone by now. He must know I didn’t do what he wanted.”
Anxiety trembles through my voice. My plan fell apart like a house of cards. I expect to see a shadow of him lurking somewhere, but there’s no sign of him. It makes me uneasy. Tony yanks me across the parking lot and into his car.
Tony makes a few calls while he drives us away. I keep silent as he talks on the phone, trying to suppress the desire to lower my head from the window. Tony looks on edge, too.
Then he stops in front of Le Zinc, and a man comes outside to greet us.
“Go with him inside. I’m going to find parking.”
He says it in a voice that bids no argument, and I reluctantly open the door to walk the short distance from the curb to the restaurant, the man following behind me.
It reminds me of when my dad was still alive. Dad sent his guys to chaperone me to places, usually when he was in hot water. The familiarity calms me down somewhat. The restaurant is closed, but all of Johnny’s people are there, standing in the middle of the dining area. At the sight of the Montreal boss, my insides tighten. He’s never liked me. Tommy stands apart from the guys, his arms crossed. I can feel the judgment rolling from his gaze heating my face.
He still thinks we’re running a scam.
A wide, toothy smile spreads on Johnny’s handsome face. He beckons me closer and I slide into a chair.
“You want anything to drink?”
I still haven’t forgiven him for refusing to help me track down Tony. “No.”
No, thanks, you mean.
The rudeness doesn’t slide past Johnny, who frowns at me, saying nothing. I hate sitting here, being surrounded by all these men I don’t trust. They look down at me. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of a sneer and I wonder if they made their own minds about where I was last night.
Fuck.
French words and laughter surround me, and I wonder if they’re talking about me. It seems like it from the way they glance away from me when I meet their eyes, and the way they laugh with their backs to me. An unpleasant, sick feeling festers in my stomach and I remember what Tony told me.
They want a fucking spectacle? I’ll give them that.
I lift the napkin sitting on the table to my eyes and I screw up my face.
Cry. Cry, damn it.
Sobs break from my throat just as the door from the front of the restaurant swings open. The French chatter drops as my voice echoes through the restaurant, and suddenly Johnny’s hand is on my back.
“What’s the matter?”
“He took me,” I wail. “He took me from the apartment. I stepped outside f-for some fresh air and he grabbed me. Then he took me t-to his motel—”
“All right,” Johnny says in a leaden voice.
“He had a gun to my head. I thought I was going to die.”
I lift my head from the tissue as the men glance at each other, looking more sympathetic.
“He wouldn’t let me leave—”
“That’s enough,” Johnny says.
“It’s not nearly enough.”
Tony’s gravelly voice rumbles behind me, and my sobs subside as he takes both shoulders in his hands.
“Johnny, I got to talk to you.”
“All right. Let’s go to my office.”
He stands up, and to my surprise Tony tugs my shoulders. “C’mon.”
Making a show of wiping my face, I follow Johnny into the back, passing Tommy’s stony face. We file into Johnny’s office, taking seats behind his desk as he takes his.
“Johnny, we need to—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
My heart jumps at the sudden heat blazing from his voice. His hands grip the edge of the desk, his knuckles white.
“Tommy told me everything.”
Fuck.
“Told you what?”
I stare at Tony, surprised by the hostility in his tone. He’s the boss! You can’t talk like that to him!
“I know the wedding and pregnancy were part of a giant scam. I know about the money, and I’ve already taken my cut.” Johnny fumes at me across the table. “That’s thirty thousand dollars you’ll never see again.”
Behind my simmering fear, I feel a ripple of anger. He has no right to that money.
“I never took a dime from her, John. It is real, she showed me the tests.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You disrespected me by lying to my face. I should fucking kill you.”
Tony clenches the arms of his chair, staring at Johnny. “What are you going to do about Rafael?”
“Why the fuck is that my problem? A
s far as I’m concerned, he’s Vincent’s problem.”
“He tried to kill me. Did you forget about that?”
Johnny takes a pen from his desk and bends it in his hands, finally hurling it back down.
“That was before I knew you lied to me and brought all this bullshit on this family.”
The breath catches in my throat as the last words fall from Johnny’s lips like a battle-axe. Without their support, we really are fucked.
“I won’t deny that she came to me and asked me to do this for her.”
Johnny smiles bitterly.
“But I never took a dime from her, and she is carrying my kid. That’s a fact. You want to believe a fucking Yankee over me, that’s your fucking problem.”
The boss’ eyes flash dangerously. “I’m not convinced. Your wife gave quite a performance outside, when I know for a fact she left your apartment willingly because I had Tommy watch the place.”
A knock at the door disturbs us, but I’m almost grateful for the intrusion. The tension between the two men is red hot, and deadly. The veins in Tony’s neck stick out as if he was screaming. He turns around and snarls at the door.
“What?”
“Police, open the door!”
“Who the fuck let them in the restaurant?”
There’s a brief moment of silence before the officer knocks on the door again. Having no choice, Tony stands up and opens the door. Men in blue stand at the threshold, Johnny’s men not far behind them.
“Tony Vidal?”
My husband crosses his arms. “That’s me.”
“You’re under arrest.”
TONY
Elena’s face pales as they slap handcuffs around my wrists.
I grimace as the prick cop yanks on them. “What the fuck for?”
“Attempted murder.”
“Attempted murder? On who?”
He ignores my question and reads me my rights as drags me from the office, Johnny’s malevolent face fixed on Elena. No, I can’t leave her right now. I can’t fucking go to jail right now.
This couldn’t come at a worse fucking time. Johnny’s eyes narrow dangerously at me. He’s thinking that I fucked up and didn’t get rid of one of the bodies correctly, but there’s no fucking way.
She charges to the officer and steps in front of us, blocking the way. “Who filed the charges?”
“Ma’am, you’re blocking the way.”
She screams at the officer, making the guys behind her laugh. “WHO IS IT? It’s Rafael, isn’t it? Rafael Costa?”
The officer’s blank face betrays nothing, but my heart sinks as I hear the tremble in her voice. Fuck, she’s right. That fucking cock-sucking, good-for-nothing asshole has me right where he wants. She thought he was going to put her in jail, but it was really me he was planning to fuck over. Just so that he could have a clear shot at my wife.
“No, it’s me—I’m—”
“Shut the hell up!” I turn to Johnny, who stands next to her. “Johnny, take her away from here.”
That’s all I fucking need. My wife to confess to shooting Rafael’s worthless body.
I catch Tommy’s eye desperately as I turn around. “Tommy, please. Keep my wife safe until I’m out.”
He opens his mouth but I don’t hear his reply when I’m hauled out of the restaurant. The cold bites my cheeks and my eyes burn instantly, and I think of her, surrounded by wolves.
* * *
I’m going to kill that prick.
When I find you, you rat fuck—
I can’t even finish the sentence, because every method of torture I can think of is too good for that asshole. The dank cell echoes with my footsteps as I pace along its length. I’m stuck in here while Rafael is free to do God knows what to my wife, and who knows if Johnny will even intervene to help her.
My throat closes at the thought, and I grasp the bars. The rust clings to my hands like dirt, and I think about Elena’s broken face as I was led out of that restaurant in cuffs. I hate this. Why the fuck did they have to cuff me in front of her?
The door to the prison cell cracks open. “Tony Vidal, lawyer!”
Fuck, the last person I give a shit about seeing. He’s a sharply dressed Jew, a guy the mob keeps on retainer.
“When the fuck can I get out?”
“Unfortunately, the judge won’t grant you a bail given your—eh, history.”
Fucking hell. I knew it.
It’s not a huge problem. I’ll have to grease the judge.
“Who’s the judge?”
He glances at some sheets of paper. “Judge Giuliani.”
Inwardly I smirk to myself. He’s known to us because he nearly always accepts a well-paid bribe. It’s tricky, though. I can’t just fucking hand it to him, and there’s no fucking way Johnny will front the cash for me, especially after what happened.
Elena, hang in there. Please.
My lawyer leaves, and I make a phone call to one of my associates, who agrees to send the bribe for me. Then it’s back to pacing in this fucking cell, and going out of my mind with worry. I smash my fist into the bars, rattling this fucking cage. My wife—Jesus—what’s going to happen to her?
“Tony Vidal, visitor!”
The guard yells into the room as the door unlocks, admitting a man. Please fucking tell me it’s John. He steps into the light, a predatory smile spreading over his thin face.
“You fucking crazy moron.”
Rafael came to visit me in jail. I cannot fucking believe this.
I clench the bars and boil with rage. He’s so close—so fucking close. Rafael approaches the bars, almost close enough for me to reach his fucking neck.
“Before you spend the next decade rotting in jail, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be getting my dick wet with your wife.”
“FUCK YOU! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” I slam my body against the bars, determined to force them apart.
His laughter reverberates throughout the room, echoing horribly in my ears. “She’s in my car. The little bitch came running for me the moment you were arrested. Turns out, she’ll suck anyone’s cock for a favor.”
The banging of my fists against the bars clashes with his horrible laughter. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Still a nasty feeling rises up my throat.
“She wants me to drop the charges.” He sucks on his bottom lip and rolls his eyes as if in ecstasy. “But why should I let go of a pussy that sweet? She fits around my cock like a damn glove.”
I stand there, shaking with all the energy coursing through my veins.
“When I get out of here, the first thing I’m going to do is rip off your balls and boil them in motor oil.”
He smirks at me and takes a step backward. “Careful. You don’t want them to hear you saying that.”
My fingers curl around the bars. “Touch my wife again—”
“And you’ll what? Hit the bars?” He gets close enough so that his breath billows across my face. “Face it, fuckwad. She belongs to me. There’s no coincidence that she left me right around the time she got pregnant.”
I laugh at the logic spinning this brain. This guy is as crazy as he is dangerous. “She chose me.”
“Maybe, but I’m taking her back.”
He turns away from me, giving me a final grin over his shoulder as he walks to the door and pounds it. The bars vibrate, rattling like gongs as I tear into them, screaming until my voice is hoarse, until I can’t even make out what the fuck I’m screaming.
* * *
My fist smashes against the door and it flies open, banging against the opposite wall. Wise guys look over their shoulders at the intrusion, scowling at me for letting the cold air inside. I power through the bar, only having eyes for the man behind the counter, who looks up at me with a smile.
“Hey, Tony. You got out fast.”
I push the waitress who offers me a drink aside and grab his collar as his face barely registers surprise, slamming him against the wall.
“Whe
re the fuck is she?”
The bottles rattle behind him as he gives me a venomous look. “How the fuck should I know?”
“WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?”
I shove his chest hard, and his arm knocks over a bottle of Windsor Canadian whiskey. It falls like a rock and shatters, spraying cheap whiskey all over the floor. I seize the broken neck of the bottle and lunge at Tommy. His eyes widen as I grab the hair on his head and dig the broken, jagged edges of glass against his neck. Pinpricks of blood well up around the sharp pieces and he winces.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I asked you to watch over my wife.”
“I think you can cut the act now. Johnny knows everything.”
“THIS IS NOT A FUCKING ACT!”
Every rough syllable digs the glass deeper into Tommy’s skin, and I hear a female scream behind me—one of the waitresses. Male voices urge me to calm down, or they otherwise laugh at the spectacle I’m giving them.
“Calm down, Tony—”
My voice dials down to a gritty whisper, and Tommy’s anxious hazel eyes find mine. I don’t give a fuck about slitting his throat, right here, right now, and he knows it.
“I will kill you right fucking here if you don’t tell me where my wife is.”
Tommy’s throat bulges and he swallows hard. “She left with him, all right?”
With him.
They let her leave with that scumbag.
“Can I ask you something? Why the fuck do you care about her?”
The edge of the broken half of the bottle smashes over Tommy as I lunge at his face. I let him drop to the ground as he cradles his head.
He looks up at me through a haze of broken bits of glass and blood. “I’m going to kill you.”
He lunges at my middle and I fall backward, my back hitting the hard ground. Pierre and Francois suddenly materialize out of thin air, grabbing Tommy’s arms before he can swing a fist. An animalistic look snarls Tommy’s face, and it takes four guys to hold him back.
The energy and the fight flows out of me when I realize Elena probably left with him because he promised to drop charges against me. He coerced her, but no one would have known or cared to stop her.
“She’s pregnant, and you let her leave with that psycho.”
Tommy’s chest pulses as he struggles against the guys holding him. “It’s a fucking scam!”
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