But Charles wasn’t feeling the sob story. “Your boy,” he said, “held my daughter down so that he and his buddy could rape her. They would have raped her if I hadn’t gotten there in time. So, forgive me if I don’t give a flying fuck about your good little boy.”
Then Charles frowned. “What the fuck you thought I was going to do? Slap him on the wrist? Turn him over to the cops so they could slap him on the wrist?”
“You,” the father of the attempted rapist started saying, but then he couldn’t catch his breath. He tried. And tried to speak his anger. But he couldn’t.
He died, right there, from his injuries.
Charles exhaled, as police sirens, a convoy undoubtedly led by Brent, could be heard in the distance. He was sorry the old man had to settle a score his son put on the board. He understood where the old man was coming from. Charles would do everything in his power to protect his children too.
But he would never protect them if they even thought about doing what his son tried to do.
Never.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Keep going, sir?”
Ozzie Jones looked at the driver, his big, brown eyes unable to conceal his impatience. “Why do you keep asking me that, Ray? Just tell me why? I told you to keep going. How many times do I have to tell you that? What the fuck you think we’re back here for? The fucking fun of it? Yes, keep driving. Keep driving until we get where we’re going!”
Ray Rosen kept driving but he also glanced through the rearview at the real boss: Hammer Reese. But Hammer was, as usual, preoccupied. His head was buried in a risk assessment report. Which meant Ozzie, his body man, was in charge.
And Ray did as Ozzie ordered. It was Saturday night in Baltimore, and visibility was a problem, but he kept driving through woods so thick he could barely see the narrow road. He kept driving through terrain so dark that the SUV’s headlights gave them their only illumination. But just as that same terrain got to its thickest and most treacherous point, he slammed on brakes. “Motherfuck!” he yelled when armed men, four strong, suddenly appeared in front of them. He missed them, not by their reaction to his intrusion, but by his own fast reflexes. “What the fuck!” he angrily yelled.
He looked through the rearview. He took his cues from the boss. And Hammer, to his relief, didn’t seem bothered at all. Hammer, in fact, had looked up, saw the armed men, and went right back to reviewing his risk assessment. Ray Rosen calmed down too.
Ozzie rolled down his window. “What’s up?” he asked. He was a black man, as were all of the four armed men.
“What’s the cargo?” asked one of the men.
“See for yourself,” Ozzie replied.
The one man leaned into the window and looked toward the back of the SUV. When he saw Hammer Reese sitting on that backseat not bothering to look up, his already big eyes nearly popped. “Yes, sir,” he said to Ozzie. “Sorry about that sir.” Then he ordered the rest of the guards to let them through.
Ray, relieved, drove swiftly through the checkpoint and continued through woods that were not as thick, nor as treacherous as their earlier journey. And then he saw a warehouse. A massive warehouse with Valtone Distributors written on it. And he relaxed. At least they had gotten somewhere.
“Pull in front,” Ozzie ordered and opened his door before the SUV rolled to a complete stop. When it stopped, his tall frame got out and stood at the back door. He waited for the knock. It took several more seconds for Hammer to finish what he had been reading, and to put it away. When he gave a small knock, Ozzie opened the door.
Hammer stepped out buttoning his suitcoat and looking around at the desolate place. The idea that his woman did business back here, in this forsaken land made dangerous by its isolation alone, worried and angered him in equal doses. What was she thinking? Didn’t her ass realize just how much of a sitting duck she was back here? Hammer was a big man physically, with the body of an athlete and muscles almost as big as a bodybuilder’s, and he was a powerful man in money and position: there was nothing soft about him. But there was a major part of him that was terrified just thinking about how many things could have gone wrong all those nights Amelia was in that rat trap.
But that was why he had come, he thought as he walked toward the entrance. He wanted to see for himself how much progress she’d made toward ending this craziness once and for all.
The entrance doors were opened by Targe Montalis, a man Hammer hired to be Amelia’s security chief. Hammer, escorted by Ozzie, entered the warehouse. Ray remained behind the wheel of the SUV. That was his job to keep the motor running in case they had to make a swift getaway. He locked the doors as soon as Hammer and Ozzie had gotten out, and he hunched his body over the steering wheel watching with a hawk’s eye at the darkness around him. Even he found this place eerie. Even he thought Amelia Sinatra, no matter what his boss thought of her, was nuts.
But inside, Hammer was pleased. The warehouse was empty. But he already knew the layout. He knew the real action, and Amelia, were upstairs. Targe escorted him up those very stairs.
And he was right. There were hundreds of workers upstairs, all packing up boxes and crates, and stacking chairs and tables. To Hammer’s relief, they were shutting it all down. And Amelia?
“She’s this way, sir,” Targe said, and escorted Hammer to a room in the back.
Targe knocked once, and then opened the door. Ozzie remained on the outside, guarding the door despite the fact that they were on friendly grounds, as Hammer went inside. Targe went back to supervising the clear-out.
When the door closed behind him, and Hammer saw Amelia on the phone with a customer, his heart squeezed with that feeling of warmth and protectiveness he felt more and more whenever she was in his presence. He was still a little peeved with her for putting herself in this position to begin with, but that wasn’t unusual either. Hammer didn’t give a fuck about most people who irked him, but he cared deeply about Amelia. Even though, because of her toughness, and because of her Sinatra pedigree, she wasn’t an easy woman to care about.
When Amelia saw Hammer, and when she saw that gorgeous face, and that fine body she knew could take her to the heights of her sexual gratification unlike any man ever could, a part of her wanted to hang up that phone right then and there and run into his arms. He had that magnetic kind of effect on her.
But another part of her wanted to tell him to kiss her ass. Because she knew why he had come. This operation was her independence. The only independence she had ever known after nothing but abuse and derision her whole life. Hell, her mother gave her away when she was born, and the father of her half-brothers tried to kill her! This operation, although the worse operation she could have latched onto, was all hers. The only thing that belonged exclusively to her.
When Hammer gave her Leo T’s territory and told her that if she was going to stay in the game she had to corner the market, she felt relieved. But then she felt cornered too, as her new territory caused her to suffer too many close calls and that caused Hammer to change his mind. It was too dangerous, he told her. There was no way she could stay in.
Although Amelia suspected there was more at work with Hammer’s sudden change of heart about her keeping her cartel up and running, namely government pressure, she knew it was the right move at the right time too. Slinging drugs was never going to be right. Not with the devastation it caused all communities, but especially communities of color. Hammer knew it. Her brothers knew it. She had to get out.
But when she continued to drag her feet, insisting she had too many obligations she first had to fulfill, Hammer put his foot down: get out or else. And Hammer, she knew, wasn’t asking twice.
She was shutting it down. All of it. But his presence in her office wasn’t reassuring. His presence felt as if he didn’t trust her; as if he had come to see for himself.
She motioned for Hammer to come further in and have a seat as she argued over the phone. “I’m not stiffing anybody,” she was saying. “I’m just letting you know
I’m closing down operations, effective immediately, and won’t be fulfilling any more of your order requests.”
“But what am I supposed to do, Amelia?” her phone customer asked. “Ain’t no suppliers out here I trust like I trust you!”
“I understand that, Ramone. But I can’t help you. I’m out. I’m out for good.”
“Damn, girl. This ain’t right! What am I supposed to do? Do you recommend somebody?”
Amelia knew reputable drug dealers, if there was any such thing, but she wasn’t passing it along. “No,” she said. “Sorry.”
“This ain’t right! You can’t just quit like this! What’s gotten into you? You start fucking some law man like Hammer and now you all legit? Fuck that!”
But his anger only angered Amelia. “Now you look bitch,” she said with fire, “I told your ass I’m getting out. It has nothing to do with Hammer or anybody else.”
Hammer couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation because Amelia didn’t have it on Speaker, but he could only imagine. A customer. An angry dealer who had picked the wrong one to get angry with.
“I called to tell you I’m getting out,” Amelia continued on the phone. “You know damn well I’m not calling you to ask your permission. I’m calling you to tell you what’s going to happen and that I can no longer fulfill your orders. You want to take it personal, then I can go there too, motherfucker. I know where your ass lives. I know what your ass got going on. So don’t get smart with me. Cause I can take it there!”
“Okay, alright,” Ramone quickly said. He knew what Amelia was capable of. He also knew who Amelia was related to. He wasn’t fucking with those Sinatras! “I was just trying to get you to reconsider, that’s all. It wasn’t no threat.”
“It better not have been,” Amelia said.
“But the order I got in already,” Ramone said, “you can at least finish that up, right?
“No,” Amelia said. She could have, but after his little slick remark she wasn’t going to.
“No?” he asked. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Find another supplier. I’m out. And this conversation is over,” she added, and ended the call. “Bitch,” she added after she hung up.
Hammer smiled. “What was that about? I heard my name mentioned.”
“He’s gonna come at me like the only reason I’m shutting down is because I’m some dick-whipped weakling who can’t think for herself. Boy bye!”
She was gorgeous when she was angry, Hammer thought. “But really, why are you shutting down again?” he asked.
Amelia smiled. “Because I’m a dick-whipped weakling who can’t think for herself.”
Hammer laughed a booming laugh.
Amelia leaned back in her chair. She liked this happy Hammer the best. “I’m shutting down because I should have never opened up. I know that. Nobody had to tell me that. When that husband of mine croaked and I took over his drug cartel, I should have shut it down then. But I was so scared Hammer. How was I going to survive? I didn’t have any skills. All I ever knew how to do was committing crimes for him. All I knew was robbing and stealing and this cartel. I didn’t even know who I was. And people expected me to just give that all up and do what?”
She exhaled. “I knew it was wrong, but I knew how everybody in my life had treated me back then were wrong too. Life was wrong to me. Why wouldn’t my job be too?”
Hammer stared at her. His big eyes studied her. She’d been an abused child, an abused wife, and had only recently realized she was the African-American half-sister to Mick Sinatra and their big brother Big Daddy Charles Sinatra. She only recently realized the infamous Gabrinis, Reno, Sal, and Tommy, were related to her too. Now she had a name to uphold. Now she had a man, Hammer, who wasn’t taking that shit. Now, she’d decided, was time. “You did the best you could,” he said.
But Amelia was shaking her head. “No I didn’t so stop lying.”
Hammer smiled.
“Many people came from tough situations and they didn’t end up international drug dealers. They weren’t handed an international drug ring to run when their husbands died, either, but still. I didn’t do the best I could. But I did do the best I could with what I had to work with. Yeah, I did that.”
“That’s what I meant,” he said with a smile. “But I think you’ll enjoy running JazzLight.” JazzLight was a successful nightclub in Montreal that Hammer owned. “It will certainly keep you busy.”
“I’ve never ran a club in my life,” Amelia said. “I’ll bet it’ll keep me busy. And jumping,” she added, with a smile. “But my question is when are you going to let me in on your other businesses?”
“What other businesses?” Hammer asked.
“You know what other businesses, so don’t even try it, Hammer. You have my brother Mick’s money. You have Reno, Tommy, and Sal Gabrini money. And no nightclub in this world is going to set you up that good.”
Hammer smiled. “Just close this place up. Take a break, and then next month report to work at JazzLight.”
“And?” Amelia asked.
“And if you do a good job there,” he said, “we’ll see.”
Amelia smiled. “I knew you had more than that going on! I knew it! But is it on the up and up, or undercover?”
Hammer smiled. “None of your business,” he said, and then he leaned forward in his chair, with his arms resting on his thick thighs. And his look turned serious again.
Amelia knew that look. It was a look she dreaded because it almost always meant he had to go on assignment. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I’ve been called back out into the cold again,” Hammer said.
Amelia’s heart dropped because she knew what he meant. She knew he was the former director of the CIA. She knew he ran many special operations for them despite the fact he was listed as retired. She knew he was, in many ways, their special ops go-to guy. But she also knew how dangerous those operations could be. It was the absolute worst part about being with him, and about being the mother of his only child. “For how long this time?” she asked him.
“A few weeks,” he said, “to a few months. Depends on how it goes.” He looked at her. “You know that.”
Amelia knew it. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. “When do you leave?” she asked him.
“Tonight,” he said.
Amelia’s heart sank again. “Tonight? Hammer!”
“I don’t get advance notices, Amelia. That’s why I have to stay ready, and I have to make sure my guys stay ready. Imagine how their families feel. I’m in a supervisory role. I order the dirty work. They have to actually do the dirty work.”
“I understand that too,” Amelia said. But, once again, she thought, it didn’t ease her pain.
Hammer stood up. “Come on,” he said. “I want to see our son again before I shove off. And,” he added, although he didn’t finish his sentence.
Amelia smiled. “And what?” she said, knowing all too well.
“I want to see our son, and I want to fuck your brains out. That’s what.”
She laughed, grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer, and walked around the desk beside him. She continued to smile when they were closer. Hammer was an older man, but nobody on the face of this earth was sexier to Amelia.
And when he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her with a long, passionate kiss, all was forgiven. Even his assignment. Because at least he was going to spend one more night with her.
Hammer, too, felt the rush of passion he felt whenever he touched her. He’d been with so many women in his life. Some far more beautiful. Some that couldn’t hold a candle to Amelia’s beauty. But she was the one. She was the only one he wanted so badly that he slipped up and had unprotected sex with. It led to an unplanned pregnancy, but that turned out wonderful too.
“Ready?” he said when they stopped kissing.
Amelia leaned back and looked at him. And she was smiling. “You know what Rowena says.”
“What does she say?
”
“She says you should be ashamed of yourself for not making an honest woman out of me yet.”
Hammer laughed. “That nanny of yours needs to mind her own business.”
“She’s also my best friend, and she is minding her own business. I’m her business.”
“Then she should know you aren’t ready to get married,” Hammer said. Then he corrected himself. “We aren’t ready.”
It stung Amelia a little when he said that, but she understood why he said it. In a lot of ways, she and Hammer were still getting the kinks out. She wasn’t even all that certain if they were in an exclusive relationship. Hammer lived in Canada, in Montreal. She lived in Baltimore. He went on “assignments” that lasted weeks on end. She had no idea what he was up to when he wasn’t around her. And he wasn’t the kind of man who was going to give a blow-by-blow of his life to anyone. That anyone included Amelia, and she knew it.
“Let’s go,” Hammer said, and they left.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Their son, Hannibal Joey Reese, called JoJo, was grinning in his father’s arms. There was Hammer, on the floor inside the nursery, tickling his son. Amelia stood at that door amazed at the change in Hammer. Nobody would believe he could even display this side to him. Not the man who built his reputation at the CIA trafficking in torture. Not the man who purported to love the law but often broke it to get the bad guys out of commission. Not the man both sides, the lawbreakers and the lawmakers, despised.
“He’s a great father.”
Rowena Harper was standing beside Amelia at the door. Amelia smiled. “Yes, he is.”
“But I still say,” Rowena started to say, but Amelia began leaving. She didn’t want to hear Rowena’s he should marry you and make an honest woman out of you line again.
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