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Double Blind (Vittorio Crime Family #2)

Page 18

by Vanessa Waltz


  Her eyes well with tears and she clutches my sides, her nails digging in. I hate to see the tears in her eyes.

  “Don’t cry, baby.”

  “I can’t fucking help it!” She bursts out, wiping her hands over her eyes.

  “I’ll be fine, baby. I’m always fine.” A smile twitches on my face. “You’re the one I have to worry about. You’re constantly getting into trouble.”

  I worry about her all the time.

  “Maybe I should handcuff you to my bed,” I say with a weak smile, trying to cheer her up, “so that when I come back, you’ll be right where I want you to be.”

  Her look of amusement turns to alarm when I take both her wrists and hold them behind her back. “Vince, no!”

  For a moment, I seriously consider doing it, but there’s no time for games.

  “I love you.”

  Her arms tighten around my middle and I sigh into her hair. I just want to stay here and curl up with her on the couch, and forget about all this bullshit.

  “I love you, baby. Always.”

  I kiss the top of her head and her arms unwind from me. I give her a stern look.

  “Do not fucking leave this place under any circumstances.”

  “I won’t.”

  For once, I don’t see any desire in her eyes to disobey me.

  “If I find out you’ve placed so much as a toe outside this apartment, I’ll whip your ass until it bleeds. So don’t do it.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Vince. I don’t want to die.”

  The corners of my mouth lift as I turn around, heading for the door. All lightness drops away from my eyes as I think about what I’m going to do and the bastards who will pay. They will fucking pay.

  * * *

  Where is that son of a bitch?

  I’ve checked the casino, I peeked inside his house, and I’ve been to the deli in Jersey.

  It’s like he’s gone.

  My car parks into the Crazy Horse strip club parking lot. The rest of my crew is here, and maybe they have information. I enter through the back, knocking furiously. Patsy, a balding man with glasses, opens the door for me.

  “Vinny!”

  “Hey, Pats.”

  I walk into the room and see Nicky, Tom, Paulie, and every other captain already inside, and Jack.

  Fucking Jack. My mood sours immediately.

  Jack sits at a round table, counting money with Paulie. I make a beeline for Nicky.

  “Hey, look who’s here!”

  I cut to the chase. “I need to find Carmine Lucchesi. Do you know where he is? He didn’t show up to work today.”

  Nicky gives me a bewildered look. “How the fuck should I know where he is?” He reaches in his jacket and gives me an envelope stuffed with cash.

  I take it and shove it in mine, not even bothering to count it. Collecting what’s owed me is the last thing on my mind right now.

  But I can’t just go shouting about finding Carmine. If I’m going to whack him, it’ll have to be secret. Silent.

  I also need to kill that fat fuck, Tony. I’ll wrap my hands around him until his eyes bug out. Piece of shit. I should’ve shot him in the face at that sit-down with John and Jack.

  One crisis at a time.

  “You all right, Vinny? You look pissed.”

  “I need to find Carmine.”

  Suddenly, Jack appears at my elbow and tugs my arm. I have to resist the urge to shove him away.

  “Vince, we need to talk.”

  I’m about to tell him off, but his blue eyes harden and I remember the time he buried his gun in a made guy’s stomach and shot him for slapping his niece around. I helped him get rid of the body, and we passed around the story that he went into the Witness Protection Program. Under that calm gaze, unpredictable fury boils. He’s the boss. I have to respect him.

  “Fine.”

  I follow him into the back, that memory burning in my mind as he takes me into his office.

  “Have you heard?” he asks me.

  “What?”

  “Carmine’s mother is dead. The nursing home called Tony. They think he strangled her while he was visiting.”

  A ripple of shock runs through my body. “Holy shit.” I can’t even imagine doing that to my own mother. “What a sick fuck.”

  “Tony donates a lot of money to that place, so they’re trying to get the coroner’s office to write natural causes on the death certificate. Anyway, Tony is pissed. This could be it.”

  Somehow, this gives me a bad feeling. Carmine must be feeling desperate.

  “I need to find him.”

  “No. You poking around will only make things worse. Let Tony deal with him.”

  I grit my teeth. “We should deal with both of them.”

  “Are you fucking nuts? He’s a boss, Vince.”

  “A boss who tried to have us all killed, remember? I don’t trust the fat fuck. After everything he’s done, he deserves it.”

  Jack grabs my shoulders. “For Christ’s sake, listen to yourself! You’re talking about whacking a boss, Vince—”

  “Who tried to kill us all a few weeks ago! Jesus, what happened to your balls?”

  Jack’s fist whirls out of nowhere, smashing into the side of my face. I grunt as the force of his blow sends me reeling, and then he grabs my neck and slams me against the wall.

  “You got something you want to say to me?”

  Yeah. You’re a dickless asshole who’s going to run this whole family into the ground.

  My head radiates with heat. “Oh, there’s a lot of shit I want to say to you.”

  “Go ahead, asshole.”

  I swallow hard, looking into the blue eyes I used to trust. “I’m doing this, Jack. Adriana was almost killed again by that fuck, and I’m going to put an end to him now. With or without your approval.”

  He lets go of me and steps back, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “How is she?”

  “Okay, considering the circumstances. She’s at my house.”

  “Look, there’s something you should know.” Jack gives me a wary glance as he sits down, looking nervous. “I found out stuff about Carmine that—I found out from Tony that he used to be obsessed with a woman who lived in Brooklyn years and years back. He was supposed to collect payments from the family and that’s it, but he killed the husband. She lived in Bushwick.”

  A beam of understanding shoots through his eyes into mine.

  “It couldn’t be Adriana’s dad, could it?” A rush to my brain makes my vision dark for a few seconds. “Oh, Maddon.”

  “I just found this out. That sick fuck had it bad for her mother. There’s no way he didn’t know about her from the beginning.”

  My body feels strangely hollow, as if someone reached in and yanked out all my guts.

  Tony must have known, too, and he still sent her after Carmine.

  “I need to go—I need to see her.”

  He shouts something, but I’m already out the door. I sprint towards my car without knowing why. I drive home so fast that I almost kill myself. Then I sprint up the staircase without missing a beat because there’s fire flowing in my veins.

  I jig the doorknob to my place, and it swings wide open.

  Oh, no. No, please.

  Shit.

  I grab my gun and enter the apartment, my ears straining for any sound. My arms swing from room to room, thoroughly searching without any sign of her.

  “Adriana! ADRIANA!”

  My throat becomes hoarse from my bellowing. A violent, nauseating feeling overcomes my body when I see water from the bathtub spilled all over the tiles like blood, the only sign of a struggle in the house. I look at the puddles of water and I almost want to cry. I see red pools instead of clear ones, and I see what Adriana might look like after he’s through with her.

  I search every fucking room, but she’s not here.

  ADRIANA

  When Vince leaves, I lock the door behind him and wrap my arms around myself. I saunter into t
he living room and collapse onto the couch. My eyes close as I sink into the couch and try to relax, but Carmine’s fingers itch at my throat and my eyes fly open, heart pounding. As much as I know that Vince is more than capable of getting rid of Carmine, I still feel a stab of anxiety when I think about them fighting. Carmine is capable, too, and strong, ruthless, with an edge of madness.

  I shake my head and get up, wandering around the house.

  What should I do while Vince is gone?

  Like anything can take my mind off him.

  My eyes wander from the TV to the bathroom attached to the bedroom.

  Maybe a nice hot soak in the bathtub.

  My shoulders loosen up just thinking about being surrounded by fragrant, warm bubbles. I pad into the huge bathroom barefooted and smile when I notice that Vince kept all my bath products. He was just waiting for me to return. I lean over the edge and turn the knobs on the tap. A strong, white stream of water fills the bathtub. I take the purple bottle filled with lavender bubble bath and I pour it near the jet. Within seconds, the bath fills with white foams and the floral smell rises from the water. I strip the clothes from my body painfully, like peeling bandages from a wound, and then I turn the taps off, shutting the roar of the water, and gingerly slip inside.

  I hiss softly as the heat burns my skin and I sink into the water gradually. My hair fans out over the edge of the clawfoot tub and I stretch my feet so that the tips of my toes peek out of the foamy water.

  Man, I needed this.

  The heat from the bath soothes my muscles, warming my neck where there’s still a bit of soreness. My wet arms sting with the cold air when I raise my elbows out of the water. I slip them back inside the hot water, shuddering as the warmth envelopes my skin

  Clip, clip, clip, clip.

  A soft sound behind me turns the hot water into ice. My heart pounds against my chest, unable to deny the crawling, sick feeling that I just managed to bury.

  That’s not Vince.

  Then a low male voice makes a hissing sound. I whirl around, the water sloshing over the tub as my eyes move up the grey tiles to a pair of loafers and slacks that almost seem to blend in the color scheme of the bathroom, and finally to a handsome face with a bleeding stare.

  I scream and cross my arms over my chest as Carmine walks into the bathroom, wearing a sadistic grin.

  “Oh, no. Don’t cover yourself on my account, please. I’m enjoying the view.”

  What should I do?

  I shiver in the warm water. “What are you doing here?”

  The grin fades from his face. “I could ask you the same fucking question.”

  My lips tremble as I fail to come up with a good lie. I glance towards the door but I know I’ll never make it. I’m naked, wet, and confined in this bathroom. He’ll shoot me. He’ll shoot me right in this bathtub. I imagine him raising an arm, foam flying into the air as he fires into my chest.

  “Well, well, well. I came here to kill Cesare and instead I find you here, naked for me. What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Carmine—”

  His blue eyes flash dangerously. “Don’t you dare. You’re a worthless whore, just like your mother.”

  I swallow my questions about my mother. He looks furious enough to hit me. “I’m sorry, Carmine. I’m weak.”

  “Yes you are,” he says, eyes blazing. “Luckily for you, I’m in love.”

  What?

  Oh, God. My body trembles as if he just uttered a threat. He doesn’t love me; he just thinks he does. Wrapping hands around a woman’s throat—that isn’t love. It’s abuse. It’s plain to me, seeing him standing there, that he can’t tell the difference.

  He’s close enough so that all other thoughts vanish and I can only think of my own blinding fear, the sickening dread as he kneels to my level and runs his fingers over the edge of the bathtub.

  He rolls his sleeve before he sticks his arm inside the foam and tugs on the chain. The drain sucks the water noisily as Carmine’s wet hand trails up my back and shoulders. Then he stands, watching the water spiral into the drain as I hug my knees, covering myself.

  “Carmine, this is—”

  “Get up.”

  Fuck no. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go anywhere near him.

  He kicks the side of the tub impatiently. “Get the fuck up or I’ll give you another set of bruises.”

  The voice leaving his throat sounds nothing like him. “What happened to you? What happened to the sweet man I met in the casino?”

  The question seems to throw him. Carmine blinks and his contemptuous expression softens somewhat, but he recovers quickly. “He found out that his girlfriend was cheating on him. If I have to ask again, I’ll—”

  I stand up quickly, legs shivering in the cold. His eyes follow my curves greedily for a moment before he rips a blanket from the hanger and holds it out in front of me. I extend an arm to grab it, but he snatches it back. Anger rustles in my chest as I step out of the tub, arms still wrapped around my breasts and groin. The white towel wraps around my back as he pats me down, wiping the water from my limbs. His eyes are bloodshot, but his movements resonate with deadly precision and barely restrained calm. He looks like he hasn’t slept in several days.

  The towel drops to the floor.

  No, please.

  The backs of my legs hit the tub as he closes the distance between us. The coarseness of his suit rubs against my skin unpleasantly as his breath billows over my neck. His heavy eyes lick me from head to toe as he wraps an arm around my bare waist. My skin is still damp enough to make wet spots on his suit. I think of sex and suddenly a freakish hollowness opens up inside me.

  I beg his eyes. “Please let me go.”

  He ignores that. “Put your arms down. I want to see you. All of you.”

  No, I don’t want to.

  A sick feeling starts to worm its way into my stomach. I know where this is going but I desperately don’t want to think about it, because to say it out loud would make it final. Complete.

  My voice trembles, higher in pitch than usual. “Please don’t make me.”

  But Carmine regards me with cruel indifference. His hand runs along my collarbone, his palm just bushing over the top of my breasts. “I haven’t made you do anything yet, but I should have. I should have fucked you that first night you came over to my house.”

  His hands encircle my arms and pull them away from my breasts, and I feel horribly exposed. He sighs as he slowly takes them in his hands, gently kneading the flesh.

  “You have amazing tits. No wonder that asshole had such a hard time leaving you alone.” He pinches one of my nipples hard, watching my face with a leer for my reaction.

  His hands feel cold and invading. When he pinches me, I feel pain and I flinch from his touch.

  Please God, let Vincent stop this. Please!

  I stand like a statue, too frightened to speak, and then he takes me in his arms and his mouth descends over mine. His tongue shoves inside my mouth, and it feels slimy and not at all erotic. I blindly step forward as he drags me, my mouth and lips unmoving. My head slams against the grey wall as Carmine shoves me forward and I cry out in pain.

  Then his hand gropes my breast hard while the other reaches down my waist. He moans into my mouth as he explores my body and I try to go away inside. To not feel anything. I focus on the feeling of the cold walls digging into my spine. He shifts his body and his erection digs into my abdomen and I’m seconds from losing it.

  I move my head to the side, away from his mouth. “Carmine, get off me!”

  His hand is like a vice over my jaw as he forcefully turns my head back. “Shut the fuck up.”

  His lips move to my neck and he bites down hard. His teeth break through my skin and I scream in pain.

  “Did you think you could hold out your pussy for all those weeks? I tried to be nice. To be a gentleman, and then you fuck Cesare behind my back?”

  “I didn’t—”

  His hand wraps aroun
d my throat as he screams in my face. “Shut up!”

  His other hand, still palming my breast, digs in painfully and twists. Then he reaches lower and lower, until he’s between my legs. His middle finger grazes my clit and he painfully forces it through.

  “No!”

  Carmine pulls away, looking incredibly wounded for a moment, and then his hand makes a sharp movement. He slaps my face so hard even my eye burns with pain, and then I’m shoved to the floor.

  “You want to behave like a whore, then I’ll treat you like one.”

  The sickening sound of his belt unwinding from his slacks fills me with gut-wrenching pain.

  “NO, CARMINE!”

  My screams echo on the tiles as I seem to watch from above as his slacks drop down, just enough to free him from the confines of his pants. I turn around and crawl towards the door, tears blinding my vision, but he grabs my waist and slams his hand on my back. The sharp blow resonates inside deeply, injuring my kidneys. I thrash around until I’m on my back and Carmine kneels above me, furious, and his cock in his hand.

  “Please don’t hurt me!”

  Something breaks inside him. The cruel look on his face shatters and confusion lightens his face. He looks around the bathroom as if he just woke up in an unfamiliar place, and then he shoves himself in his pants. Relief floods my veins and I sob even harder when he zips his pants.

  Oh, God. It came so close. I was going to be—I can’t even think about the word.

  “Fuck.” His face burns red as I rip myself away from him and curl into a ball, hugging myself. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  Carmine takes the towel from the floor and approaches me cautiously, wrapping it around my back as I clutch it firmly over my chest. His knees hit the tiles with a loud thud and all of a sudden he pulls me into his chest.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Suddenly his touch is no longer cruel, it’s warm. Protective.

  Get the fuck away from me, you psycho.

  His hand pins my head to his chest while the other soothes my back.

  “Adriana,” he says in a choking voice, “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done.”

  My chest still shakes with sobs, but I let him hold me. Anything to keep him from raping me.

 

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