Speak Low

by Melanie Harlow

  “Oh, I think you do.” He leaned closer, slipping his arms around me and dragging me across his lap on my back. My legs extended along the seat, and I pressed my knees together as his right hand slid under my nightgown again. “And you’re going to tell me.”

  “Enzo, please.”

  He kneaded my thigh, but his touch was gentle, too gentle for how I knew he must be feeling inside. And he was smiling. “Tell me, darling.”

  I chewed my bottom lip as his eyes searched my face. Despite his warm hands on me, the curve of his lips was as chilling as the calm in his voice. It was the Enzo I’d first met, the one who could mask his emotions so masterfully that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He’d let some of that façade slip in the last few days. But now there’s something he wants more than you. “I can’t.”

  His smile widened as his fingers slid higher and worked between my inner thighs. “You can do anything you want,” he said softly, bringing his lips close to mine as he began to stroke me. “You’re still wet. I love that I make you this wet.” Lowering his mouth, he slid his tongue between my lips and eased one finger, then another, inside me, his languid kiss mirroring the gentle rhythm of his hand.

  Somewhere inside my brain was a voice warning me that this was wrong, that I’d made a promise to Joey, that Enzo wasn’t kissing me this way because he cared for me. But I silenced it by telling myself I’d done the right thing by revealing Joey’s secret—I’d prevented Enzo from hurting anyone. And even if Enzo didn’t love me, he certainly loved pleasing me, and maybe that was enough. As his tongue swept mine, my arms snaked around his neck and I widened my knees a little.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, removing his fingers to caress my tender, swollen flesh before plunging them deep inside me again. “You’re going to come again for me.”

  “Oh God…” I clutched at his neck and turned my face into his chest, but even the smell of him, smoky and masculine, drove me mad with desire.

  He rubbed his wet fingers over the most sensitive skin on my body. “I know everything you want. And I can give it all to you, you know I can.” His voice was dulcet, the words dripping from his lips like honey. “Your own apartment, money to do as you please, new clothes…the life you deserve. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

  When I moaned, he rubbed faster and harder, and I could only think yes, yes, yes. I murmured the words, and he brought his lips closer to my ear.

  “Wouldn’t you like your own place? Where we can be together whenever we want? I’ll make you come all…night…long.”

  His breath tickled my skin, his words echoing through the roar of blood and the buzz of nerve endings and—oh my God the way he touched me made me feel like nothing else mattered but the moment and the need and the heat and the spiraling climb toward release…

  “Yes!” I cried out, lifting my hips against his hand as the second orgasm exploded inside me, no less powerful than the first. When the tightness finally eased, my bones were floating in my skin.

  “Mmmmm.” He kissed me again. “You’ll need an apartment that has thick walls.”

  I managed a tiny smile.

  “So what do you say?”

  “I…can’t afford an apartment.”

  “I’ll pay for it.”

  “No.” Orgasms aside, I didn’t want to him to own me.

  “Then I’ll get you a job. Would you like to work at the club?”

  “Work at the club? What would I do?”

  “Whatever you want. Hostess? Hat check? Waitress?” He cocked his head. “You don’t sing, do you? Or dance? You’d look fantastic on stage in a short little costume.”

  “Uh, no.” Because one of my legs was slightly shorter than the other, the result of a difficult birth during which my hip was broken, I’d never felt terribly natural while dancing—sometimes even walking comfortably was a chore. And my singing made my cooking skills look good.

  “Well, you can think about it then. But I’ll see to it that you’re paid very well, if you want.”

  I exhaled, closing my eyes. Of course I wanted it. I wanted everything he just mentioned—the apartment, the nights with him, the money to do as I pleased, the freedom to make my choices and own my mistakes as well as my successes. What young woman didn’t want to live a flapper’s life with all its wicked delights?

  But at what price?

  If I told Enzo where the opium was and he took it back, Joey would know I’d betrayed him. But if I didn’t, Enzo would take matters into his own hands and people would get hurt, maybe even killed.

  I opened my eyes. “If I tell you where the opium is, you have to promise me you’ll give me a chance to talk to Joey before you take it.”

  “I can’t promise that, Tiny. But I can promise that if you don’t tell me, I’ll have no choice but to settle this score my own way.”

  My heart stuttered. “Well…you can’t hurt Joey. Promise that.”

  Enzo stiffened. “What is he to you?”

  “A friend.”

  Silence. “I won’t have to hurt him if he cooperates. And I won’t have to marry Gina if I get the cash for the drugs.”

  It was so dark, I couldn’t read his eyes. I wanted everything he was offering. And I didn’t want him to marry Gina. What had he said to me this morning? You and I are going to have to trust each other a little bit.

  I took a breath. “It’s in the boathouse.”

  A smile crept onto his lips, slow and sinister. “Shall we take a ride?”

  I struggled to sit up. “No!”

  He shifted me onto the seat beside him and started the car.

  Panicked, I put my hands on his arm and tugged. “Please, Enzo. Just wait, all right?” It occurred to me that I wasn’t entirely positive the drugs were still in the boathouse. Even if they had been there earlier today, Joey might have moved them after dropping me off. I hung on as he swung the car around and headed back onto Jefferson. “Listen, I wasn’t supposed to tell you anything yet, and now I’ll be in trouble.”

  Enzo laughed. “Trouble is your middle name, darling.”

  Frowning, I scooted away from him and stared out the window. Enzo rarely used any terms of endearment with me, and somehow this one lacked a certain affection I was hoping to develop between us. Why the hell couldn’t I meet a normal fellow like Evelyn had? One who took me to the movies or a dance on a Saturday night?

  Enzo turned off Jefferson onto the boathouse drive, and I had to reach out and steady myself again as the Packard bumped and shimmied over the tree-rutted and potholed dirt. Low hanging branches scraped against the windows, and Enzo swore softly. “Fucking trees better not ruin this paint job. I just got this car.”

  I felt like spitting on the new upholstery, and I might have if I weren’t so scared.

  When we emerged into the clearing where the abandoned boathouse stood, a shiver ran through me. This is where I’d been abducted just a few nights ago by Raymond and Harry, and I didn’t much feel like reliving that memory. Beyond the dilapidated old structure, Lake St. Clair loomed, black and silent. I wrapped my bare arms around myself, feeling exposed and vulnerable in my nightgown. “I’ll wait here.”

  Enzo looked over at me but didn’t reply. After pulling his braces back onto his shoulders, he got out of the car and opened the door to the back. I thought he might be looking for his coat but instead he reached down and retrieved a pistol from beneath the seat. My mouth hung open as he checked it for bullets.

  “What the hell is that for?” I whispered. “There’s nobody here!”

  “Then there won’t be any trouble.” His tone was cool and confident—of course it was— but he glanced over both shoulders as he walked past the giant weeping willow to the boathouse door. The waning moon offered little light, so I didn’t see how he managed to pick the lock, but within seconds his white shirt disappeared into the shadows of the building.

  I swallowed hard, murmuring a quick prayer that the drugs were there, that Enzo wouldn’t want to take them tonight
, and that Joey would forgive me for this.

  Before I even got the chance to say Amen, the gun went off.

  Chapter Four

  I opened the car door and took off running for the boathouse before I thought it through. “Enzo!” I yelled as I crossed the threshold into the cool, dark space. Stopping just inside the door, I was relieved to see him standing there, unharmed. His back was to me, and both his hands were in the air near his shoulders. Neither hand held the pistol.

  “Tiny, go back outside please.”

  I barely heard the words over the galloping of my heart, which felt like someone’s fist trying to punch through my ribs. I looked around, confused. The voice was deep and familiar, but it wasn’t Enzo’s. Inching forward, I scanned the shadows and saw Joey standing next to a large trunk, pointing a gun at Enzo. “Joey?”

  “I said, go back outside.” He kept his eyes and his weapon on Enzo.

  “No! What are you doing?” I tried walking toward him, but immediately someone threw a thick arm around me from behind and pinned my back to his chest—not hard enough to hurt me, but enough to prevent me from moving forward. I tugged at the wrist, to no avail. “Hey!”

  “Take her out, Angelo.” Joey’s voice was colder than I’d ever heard it, which must have been why I hadn’t recognized it right away.

  “Hold on, just wait a second.” I struggled to free myself from Angelo’s hairy left arm. Like Enzo and Joey, he wore no coat and his cuffs were rolled. His right arm extended toward Enzo, gun aimed. “What is this?”

  “It’s a meeting,” said Angelo. “Thanks for setting it up.”

  “What do you mean, setting it up? I didn’t do this!” I panicked, imagining Enzo would think I’d sent him into a trap.

  “I figured you’d tell him.” Joey’s voice was devoid of any emotion, but I felt the sting of his words as if he’d slapped me. “And I had a feeling it might be tonight.”

  “Joey, please,” I began.

  “Get her out of here,” he said.

  “Why?” Enzo asked. “If all you want to do is make a deal, why not let her stay? She’s hardly going to run away in her nightgown.”

  Oh God—I’d forgotten I was in my nightgown, and barefoot. Jesus, what Joey must think! And Angelo—my face burned with shame that a strange man held me so close in my pajamas. Frantically, I wondered why Enzo wanted me to stay. Did he think they’d be less likely to shoot him if I was in the boathouse?

  Or did he want me where he could see me?

  This was a huge problem with us—we were rarely sure whose side the other was on. My hands shook, and I tightened them into fists to keep them still. “Let me stay.” I forced myself to sound defiant. “I won’t be any trouble. I was trying to do as you asked and set up a meeting, Joey, but he insisted on seeing for himself if the drugs were here.”

  “Of course he did.” Joey never took his eyes from Enzo. “He probably wouldn’t have met with me otherwise.”

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” Enzo sounded way too self-righteous for someone with two guns pointed at him. Silently I pleaded with him to show some humility. “You fucked up a huge deal for me.”

  “Tough luck, I guess,” Joey said.

  Angelo spit on the boathouse floor, and my stomach turned over at the splat. “You ready to talk business or you want to cry about the past?”

  I braced myself for an angry reaction from Enzo, but he stayed calm as he regarded Angelo. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Shut your mouth,” Joey ordered. “We came to make a deal. You interested?”

  “Can I put my arms down?”

  “Be my guest. But stay the fuck where you are.”

  Enzo lowered his arms. “What’s the deal you’re offering?”

  “You have a buyer lined up for this?” Joey jerked his head toward the trunk next to him. It was large and rectangular, the kind used on steamer ships to make a long voyage.

  “I might.”

  “We make the sale together,” Joey said. “I’ll deliver the product.”

  “And what do I get out of this deal?”

  “A cut of the profit.”

  “What kind of cut?”

  “I think thirty percent’s fair.”

  “I think you’re fucking crazy.”

  “I could just kill you, you know.”

  A high-pitched sound escaped my throat. Neither Enzo nor Joey looked at me.

  “Killing me won’t get you what you want.”

  Joey shrugged. “But it might be fun.”

  “Please, stop,” I begged. Angelo tightened his grip on me, and I whimpered in protest.

  “Let her go,” Joey said.

  “Hunh?” Angelo was as surprised as I was.

  “You heard me. Let her go.”

  The arm around my chest didn’t loosen. “What the fuck, Lupo?”

  “Just do it.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Angelo released me and moved closer to Enzo, bringing his other hand to the gun.

  “Tiny, bring me the pistol on the ground.” Joey’s voice was cool and steady, and he still didn’t look at me.

  I hurried forward, scooping up Enzo’s gun from the cement floor and bringing it to Joey. As he took the gun from my hands, the moonlight shining through the high windows revealed the fury in his eyes.

  I remembered a night not long ago when Joey and I had been alone in the boathouse, the night he’d kissed me on the lake…the night a storm raged outside and lightning had illuminated his features as he’d moved toward me in the dark, his voice teasing…I heard none of that levity now.

  “So DiFiore, you can either agree to what we’re offering here, which is an even three-way split—more than anyone else would offer, by the fucking way—or you can kiss thousands of dollars goodbye like a goddamn fool.”

  Enzo squared his shoulders. “I’m no fool.”

  “Then make the deal.”

  Unbearable silence followed. Finally he spoke. “How do I know you’ve really got the drugs? Could be anything in that trunk.”

  Joey nodded at Angelo, who grabbed Enzo by the upper arm and put the gun under his chin. They were about the same height, but Angelo was meatier, with a thick neck and a beefy chest that bulged inside his shirt. By contrast, Enzo’s frame appeared slender. Angelo led him over to the trunk, which Joey opened. Tentatively, I tiptoed forward and peered inside too.

  It was full of tin containers shaped like small bricks with rounded edges, and they were labeled, but I couldn’t read the words in the dark. Joey shut the lid. “Well?”

  Enzo studied Joey. “What’s Sam paying you?”

  “This is between us. Sam doesn’t know about it, and he’s not gonna find out about it, neither, understand?” Joey raised the gun a little higher.

  Enzo’s lips twitched. “Lupo, you have no fucking idea what you’re doing.”

  My heart skipped a beat—that was exactly what I was afraid of.

  But Joey stood his ground. “Deal or no deal, asshole.”

  Enzo stared at Joey for another few seconds, and then he glanced at Angelo. I might as well have been invisible. “Deal.”

  To my astonishment, the two shook on it before Angelo marched us out to the Packard at gunpoint. I couldn’t even bring myself to glance back at Joey as we left.

  #

  Enzo was silent on the way back to my house, but he wore an eerily calm expression. He switched off the headlamps once he’d turned onto my street, and slowed the Packard to a crawl before pulling into the drive next to my house.

  When the motor was silent, he looked at me. “Are you all right?”

  “No.”

  He smiled, the bastard. “I’d say I was sorry for taking you out tonight, but I’d be lying.”

  “You enjoyed this?”

  “Well…parts of it. Maybe even most of it.” He brushed a finger over my shoulder, but I leaned away from him.

  “You could have been killed, Enzo!”

  “Those guys were never going to kill
me. They need me.”

  “Well, it frightens me, all the guns and threats and posturing. Not to mention the stealing and the lying and the underhanded deals.”

  “That’s how it works, Tiny.”

  I crossed my arms in a huff.

  Enzo smiled again. “Are you angry with me or with yourself?”

  “I’m angry with everyone and everything right now. No matter what I do, I can’t get anything right.”

  “Come on, now.” Enzo slipped his fingers up the back of my neck through my hair. When I tried to lean away, he closed his fist, keeping my head where it was and forcing me to look at him. “Everything is going to be perfect, Tiny. You’ll see.”

  “How do you figure? Will your thirty percent cut of the opium be enough to pay off Gina’s father?”

  His lips tipped up, the smile of an adult tolerating an ignorant child. “Of course not.”

  “Well, then—how will everything be perfect? I don’t understand.” He couldn’t mean he was going to steal the drugs—Joey would take them from the boathouse tonight, I was certain, and this time he wouldn’t be foolish enough to trust me with their location.

  Instead of explaining, Enzo leaned forward and kissed me lightly on each cheek. “Good night, Tiny.”

  “Enzo, I—”

  “Shhh.” He put a finger to my lips. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to take care of everything.”

  “But—”

  “Leave it all to me.”

  I pulled his hand away from my mouth. “You can’t hurt Joey. You promised.”

  “I won’t have to.” He released me and sat back. “If he’s smart.”

  “And you can’t go to Sam the Barber with this information. He’ll kill Joey himself.”

  Enzo’s voice took on a new edge. “You’re awfully concerned about Lupo. I’m not sure I like it.”

  Be careful. “I’m just trying to prevent people from getting hurt, Enzo.” That was the truth, wasn’t it? I thought it was, but for me the truth was becoming more nebulous every day. It was nothing I could cling to for safety.

  “I see the way he looks at you,” Enzo said icily.

  “You’re imagining things. Right now he wants to shoot me. I’m surprised he didn’t.”