by A. L Long
We both walked out of the shop together, Nikki climbed into Sly’s Jeep as I climbed in my Charger. Placing the tube that held the painting in the passenger seat, I put my car into reverse and backed up. Nikki was right in front of me as we headed out. Once we got into Manhattan, she turned on 42nd while I stayed on Park. I knew that if anyone could ease Charlie’s apprehension about this meeting, Nikki could.
****
It was already dark by the time I pulled my car into the alley that Gallo had chosen for our meeting. It was getting close to nine o’clock and there was still no sign of him. I knew most of the guys were already in position even though I couldn’t see them. One thing that I hated more than anything was waiting. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I called Peter to find out if Gallo was in his line of vision.
“Anything?” I asked, knowing Peter would know exactly what I was talking about.
“That’s a negative. Ash and Cop are positioned right above you to your left. They have the best view, but haven’t reported any movement… hang tight,” Peter paused, before coming back on the line. “Gallo has been spotted; he’s about three blocks away.”
Hanging up with Peter, I checked out the time before putting my phone back in my pocket. It was five minutes to nine. Leave it to Gallo to be right on time. Stepping from my car, I leaned against the front driver’s side fender and waited for him to appear. If I had been a smoker, I would have lit one up just to calm my nerves that were having a party in my tense body. It was instantly replaced by anger the minute Gallo’s car pulled up in the alley.
Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, I pulled it out to see that Nikki was calling. This was not the best time for her to be calling, but I knew she wouldn’t be calling unless something was wrong. Swiping the screen, I knew I only had a few minutes to talk. “Nikki, what’s going on?” I asked in a low voice.
“It’s Charlie. She’s not in the hotel,” Nikki said calmly, even though I could hear worry in her tone.
“She has to be there. I gave her specific instructions to stay put,” I responded as I watched the car get closer.
“Well, she didn’t follow them, because she isn’t anywhere in the hotel,” Nikki confessed.
“Then find her.” Gallo was too close for me to say anything else.
Dropping my phone in my pocket I walked to the front of my car and waited for him to get out. The lights that were shining straight at me were making it difficult for me to see what was going on inside the car. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I was able to make out three people in the car. The driver, a man whom I presumed was Gallo in the back seat, and another person sitting next to him. The driver stepped out of the car and opened the back door. When the door was propped open, it was Gallo who stepped out. He was dressed to the hilt in arrogance as he began slowly walking towards me.
With his body inches from mine and his driver only inches behind him, the stench of stale cigars filled the space between us as he asked in a raspy voice most likely caused by his cigar indulgence, “So, we meet again. I believe you have something to give me.”
“I do, Mr. Gallo,” I choked out, trying to keep my wits about me.
Turning on my heels, I rounded the front of my car to open the passenger side door. Something had caught my eye as I grabbed it from the seat. Looking out the back window, there in the darkness, I would recognize that body anywhere. “Charlie. God dammit,” I said under my breath. It made perfect sense why Nikki was unable to find her. Just like she stated, Charlie wasn’t at the hotel. That damn woman was here.
Closing the car door, I pretended I hadn’t seen anything and prayed that Gallo didn’t see Charlie either. Walking to the front of the car, I stepped in front of Gallo and handed him the tube. Just about the time that he had the lid off and was pulling it from the tube, the back door to Gallo’s car opened. My eyes drifted from Gallo to the person standing to the left of the door. I couldn’t see who it was. There was only a silhouette of the person. As the figure stepped in front of the door, it was very clear who it was.
“Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Hyatt. I believe you know Mrs. Becker,” Gallo chuckled, looking back at Evelyn.
“So, it’s true. You two are working together,” I seethed as Evelyn stepped closer.
“Ha-ha… Yes, Mr. Hyatt. I guess you could say that. After all, she is my sister,” Gallo chuckled.
Evelyn moved next to Gallo and gave him a light peck on the cheek, leaving red lipstick on his aged skin before taking the painting from his possession. What she did next blew my mind. Without a care in the world, she nodded her head back and forth with a tsk of her tongue before expressing her thoughts. “My, my, such a waste.”
Without another thought, she ripped the painting, first in half and then again. I stood there dumbfounded as to why she would destroy a priceless piece of art. Nobody could be that stupid, unless the painting was a fake to begin with. Slowly backing away from the two of them, I was ready to reach for my gun, but realized that I didn’t have it on me. The only chance I had was to rely on the guys, but even then, there was nothing going on that would alert them that something was going down. Holding my ground, I looked Gallo in the eye and asked, “What do you want, Gallo?”
“I want my fucking money,” he seethed.
“Yeah, well, you know what I want? I want my brother back.”
There was a loud pop and my instincts kicked in to duck. I crawled to cover behind my car. The guys must have finally figured out that something was wrong. With my body pressed to the side of my car, I looked over to where Gallo’s body was lying face down against the wet asphalt. The blood seeped out of his head and snaked down a crack in the pavement. Evelyn was hunched over his body, tears dripping on his black suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, I looked over to where I saw Charlie and signaled for her to make her way to the car. When she was beside me, I looked over to her shaking my head, but loving her all the same. Her hand fell to her bag, dipping inside. There really must be a god, because when she lifted it out, a gun was in her hand. When she handed it over to me, I kissed her lightly on the forehead and said, “Stay put,” as I made my way to the front of the car.
The only person to contend with was the driver, who was nowhere to be found. Standing up, I slowly walked over to Evelyn, who was still mourning her brother’s death. Keeping my gun pointed at her, I held tight to the grip as I ordered, “Stand up, Evelyn.”
Her face lifted with enraged fury in her eyes as she stared at me. I knew she was angry and bitter, but her brother was a criminal and needed to be stopped. Just as she stood, Ash and Cop came down the alley to where we were. When they finally reached me, I said, “Nice shot guys. Did you see the driver?”
“Wait, we didn’t fire our weapons, Hyatt, and what driver?” Ash inquired.
Looking around the alley, there was no one else around. If it wasn’t Ash or Cop, it had to be one of the other guys. “What, then who?” I asked confused.
Just as we were trying to figure out who shot Gallo, Peter, Sly, and Gainer appeared with the driver of the car in their custody. As they walked towards us, I heard Sly yell out, “Look who we found.”
I was glad that they caught the driver before he could escape, but that still didn’t explain who shot Gallo.
****
With Evelyn and the money in NYPD’s custody, everyone could finally relax. Come to find out, Evelyn was part of Gallo’s operation, putting on a front for everyone that her husband was away on business when in fact he had left her some time ago once he found out about her extracurricular activities with her brother Morris. It was actually Evelyn who had all the money, so in order to keep him quiet, she paid him a healthy check every month. The funny thing about the whole thing was that every piece of art in her so-called art room was fake. Everything was there for show. When she wasn’t able to get her hands on the real thing, she had replicas made by the same artist that did the forgeries for Morris. As for the money, the cops had no clue how much was really supposed to be in the b
ag. Of the two hundred and fifty thousand, there was only one hundred and fifty left inside. I didn’t know what my brother did with the rest of the money, and I really didn’t care. I guess in a way he got a piece of Gallo too.
After a short debriefing with Peter and the guys, I was ready to finally go home. One more night at the hotel, and then Charlie and I could begin building our lives together. I was still angry with her for showing up in the alley and putting her life in danger, but when she explained to me why she did it, I couldn’t help but love her for it, and when we got home I was going to show her how much.
Assisting her into the car, I rounded the front and got behind the driver’s seat. As I began to back up, her voice cracked, “I’m sorry about not listening to you at the hotel. I just needed to make sure you were going to be okay. I couldn’t bear to lose you again.”
I wasn’t sure how long her tears had been collecting, but they began to spill and her breath hitched as she began to sob. Placing my hand on her cheek, I leaned over and placed my lips on hers. Her lips were swollen with emotion, salted by the love she had for me. Bringing my hand across her cheek and to her neck, I pulled her in closer, letting her know just how much she was loved. I wanted to give her so much more than this, but couldn’t. Once we were at the hotel and in our room, my confessions of love would be known.
Reluctant to let her go, I rubbed my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the last of her tears, and said, “Let’s go home.”
****
As we pulled up to the hotel, the valet was already waiting to take the next car to the valet parking garage. Giving him another twenty, I handed him my keys while another employee helped Charlie out of the car. The second I was next to her, I placed my arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the head. If I were to die tomorrow, having this right now would be all I would ever need. The concierge was waiting at the door as we stepped inside. I was hoping that he didn’t expect a tip because the smallest bill I had left was a hundred and I wasn’t about to give it to him for holding the door. Giving him a friendly smile, we headed to the elevator before we were stopped by the sound of a man’s voice. “Mr. Hyatt. I have something for you.”
Charlie and I stepped up to reception to receive whatever he was holding for us. As he pulled it from underneath the counter, he explained. “A young man dropped this off earlier. He said it was very important that you get it.”
Taking the manila envelope from the man, I nodded my head and said “Thanks,” before heading to the elevator. I wasn’t sure what was inside, but opening it up in front of him wasn’t an option.
The minute we stepped inside the room, Charlie went off to take a bath while I poured myself a drink to wind down. As I sipped my drink, I stared at the envelope like it was going to open itself. After fifteen minutes of deciding what to do, I set my glass down on the coffee table and picked up the envelope. Holding it in my hands, I tested the weight, thinking there was more inside than paper. Flipping it over, I rubbed my finger under the flap, forcing it to pull away from the glue that held it closed. Dumping the contents on the table, my confusion began to set in as I stared at two bundles of Benjamin Franklins staring back at me. Scratching my head, I took another pull of my whisky before picking up the white envelope hidden underneath the bundles of cash.
Feeling like maybe I should be wearing gloves or something, I took off my t-shirt and pulled the pocket knife from my pocket. Holding onto the envelope, with the material of my shirt between my hand and the paper, I slid the knife under the sealed flap until it was open. Inside was a letter, which I also pulled out while still keeping my hands covered in my shirt. As I unfolded the letter, my heart began to race as I began to read it.
First of all, I want you to be assured that I am alive and well. Secondly, I know exactly what you’re thinking, and yes, it was me. I killed that son of a bitch. I had too. He was scum of the lowest kind, and an oxygen thief. He needed to die. So, here I am writing you this stupid letter. Seems like I fucked up things pretty good. In no way did I mean for any of this to happen, bro. Please, believe that. I just wanted to do something that you could be proud of. Do you remember when we young, how much trouble we used to get into? Stealing Mom and Dad’s car for a joy ride. Hiding behind that big oak tree behind the house so we could smoke the cigarettes we stole from the corner drug store. I guess you had the common sense to grow up. I, on the other hand, could never get past the thrill getting caught. Mom and Dad were always so proud of you. Even after you left to join the service, you were the only son they talked about. For the longest time I blamed you for all my problems, but then I realized it wasn’t you, it was the fact that we were different. If Charlie hasn’t already told you, I know that we aren’t true brothers and that my real mother died in jail after giving birth to me. See, it’s like this: I was born to be bad. It’s in my blood. Anyway, I hope the money will help you and Charlie out. You two were always meant to be together. It’s my way of telling you that I’m sorry for putting you through so much shit.
Take care, your brother,
Josh
P.S. Please don’t come looking for me, you will just be wasting your time. Oh yeah, one more thing, I’m sorry about the memorial. I never should have destroyed it. Just didn’t think I was worth the trouble. If you don’t mind, could you remember me as one of the good guys?
EPILOGUE
New town, same life. Even though leaving Manhattan was the hardest thing I had ever done, I knew it was best for me to leave and start over. So here I stand in my plush penthouse apartment, one year later. Taking a sip of my scotch on the rocks, gazing out my floor-to-ceiling window, wondering what this magnificent town was going to bring me tomorrow. I always liked the nights in LA. It seemed to be the only time that the big city came to life. I love the rush of a city at night. It was like escaping into a whole different world where every fantasy could be lived.
It was also the time when your worst nightmares could appear, and believe me, I had my share. Downing my drink, I reflected the night always brought back one in particular. I will never forget the look on my brother’s face when he realized I was dead. God, how I hated doing that to him, but it was the only way to break free.
Looking back at that day at Willow Crossing, it was amazing how one tiny pill could make anyone think you were dead. It could slow the heartbeat just enough to make it seem like you were dead. A little bit of animal blood as a prop could make it that much more real. With a little planning and a little money anything was possible. Luckily for me, I ran into the right man who needed a little help himself. The hardest part was finding a body. “Good old college academics and those donor lists,” I thought to myself with a chuckle. Who would have thought that a body being donated to science would actually be my savior? And with a little help from my needy coroner friend, I would soon be nonexistent. Free to start over.
Grabbing my suit jacket from the barstool, I casually put it on, making sure to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the expensive accent table. There was always something about a man in a suit that women seemed to go crazy for, and with the money I’ve made, I always made sure my closet was brimming full with the best designer suits money could buy. Picking up the keys to my Jag from the table, I smoothed back my blond hair and adjusted the collar of my freshly pressed shirt. Tonight was my night off and I really wanted to have some fun.
As I rode the elevator down to the parking garage, the memory of what I left in Manhattan came aboard. Thinking back, the only downside to my plan was hurting the one person I loved most. I guess for every action there is a reaction, and the reaction was a new life for me. Besides, he’ll survive. With the only woman he ever loved at his side and the men he served with watching his back, he’ll do just fine. As for me, I am alive and well living in California. I’m no longer Josh Hyatt, born of a convict and raised by a mom and dad who couldn’t be honest to the son who brought them so much joy. That man died a long time ago, and a new man was born.
Smiling t
o myself at my new reality, the elevator door opened and a gorgeous brunette got on. Checking out the curves on this beauty, I needed to get me some of that. Inhaling the scent of her perfume, I casually leaned over and asked in a sultry low voice, “That scent you’re wearing is breathtaking. What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The minute she turned and our eyes met, I knew this was going to be easy. There was a hunger inside those emerald eyes that couldn’t be mistaken. At least there was one thing I didn’t regret. Watch out LA, Xavier London is in town.
About the Author
Some would call me a little naughty but I see myself as a writer of spicy thoughts. Being an erotic romance writer is something that I never imagined I would be doing. There is nothing more rewarding than to put your thoughts down and share them. I began writing four years ago and have enjoyed every minute of it. When I first began writing, I really wasn’t sure what I was going to write. It didn’t take me long to realize that romance would be my niche. I believe that every life deserves a little bit of romance, a little spice doesn’t hurt either. When I am not writing, I enjoy the company of good friends and relaxing with a delicious glass of red wine.
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Sirius: Hidden Truth
Read all the books in the Jagged Edge Series
Hewitt: Jagged Edge Series #1
Cop: Jagged Edge Series #2