Alphas Prefer Curves
Page 76
I really didn't have much stuff, but my bags were heavy from all my books. I was never the kind of girl who cared much for clothing and after four years at a convent, I was horribly out of touch with any styles. But as long as I had my books with me, I was happy.
Finally reaching the top of the steps, I took a deep breath and looked around. The subway left me at the corner of my block and the main street that cut through the city. I lived on a one way street of mostly brownstones in one of the oldest neighborhoods.
My mother and father both had stories about immigrating to the US as children. This neighborhood was all they ever knew. Momma especially was popular, and everyone knew of the Carlisi family because of Momma. No one ever called her by her first name, Francesca.
After reorganizing my bags once more, I started my way over the uneven sidewalk to my home. It was midway up the block across from a small apartment building that stood where several brownstones mysteriously caught fire one night. Brooklyn was full of tragedies like that that were never solved.
Opening the small wrought iron gate, I admired the rose bushes Mr. Sabatino from next door took care of for Momma after she fell ill. As I stopped in front of the steps, I sighed before beginning the one step at a time climb with my luggage. Terry was going to pay for this!
As I entered the house I smiled, smelling the familiar scent of garlic and tomato sauce. No matter how sick or weak Momma had gotten, she always had a sauce going. If she couldn't cook, she would order whoever was around to do it.
I left my bags in the hall in front of the stairs leading to the second level and entered the living room. Terry was passed out on the couch with the TV on. I turned the TV off and then kicked his outstretched feet.
"Get up!" I said. "Is this how Momma raised you? You can't even help your little sister?"
Terry looked thin and his dark hair was black and oily. His clothing were wrinkled as if he'd been sleeping in them for days. He stretched, blinked at me, and smiled.
"Gianna! Welcome home!" he said as he stood and stumbled then quickly sat back down again as he held his head.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing, I'm good. Just haven't been sleeping much."
"I know you weren't taking care of Momma, the nurse sent me her bills. What's going on?"
I couldn't believe this was my brother. Terry had always been the smart one. The one everyone thought would go places. But that was until Gabby left him. Everything fell apart for him after that.
"Nothing, Gianna, nothing," he said as he looked around.
"Don't call me that. You know only Momma called me Gianna. Have you started the funeral plans?"
"Funeral? No. We can't have one. It's too dangerous. Too many people. Too much money."
"What are you talking about? Of course we're having a funeral. And a wake, too. People want to pay their last respects."
"No. No, can't do it," he said as he jittered nervously.
"Terry," I said, trying to sound sympathetic, "what aren't you telling me?"
"I'm in trouble, Gia. Big trouble." He shook his head then buried his face in his hands. "And now that Momma's gone, that's it for me. I'm a goner, Gia." He walked to the window and looked outside. "They're out there. I know they are. They're watching. They've been waiting."
"Who?"
Terry backed away from the window as a car drove past. He ran his fingers through his greasy hair and then wiped his hands on his shirt. He was pale and trembling. I had to fight the urge to slap him. Whatever trouble he was in, it was guaranteed to be his fault.
"I gotta go," he said as he looked outside again. "Don't let anyone in."
He raced out of the living room and into the hall. I heard my bags fall onto the floor as the door slammed shut. It was for the best he was gone. It gave me time to make the funeral plans for Momma.
CHAPTER TWO
Dante
I couldn't take my eyes off her. She arrived late one afternoon while I was still keeping an eye on Terry Carlisi. When I first spotted her, she was ascending from the depths of the subway, like an angel rising from hell.
She was a healthy girl, with a glow to her skin that was mesmerizing. Her long, dark hair whipped around her makeup-less oval face as she dragged a roller bag behind her, a small duffel bag hanging from her shoulder. A woman like that should never have to carry her own bags.
Wearing a long skirt and a navy sweater that was too large for her, I wondered why such a beauty would hide herself. As I grabbed my scope off my sniper rifle, I leaned against the window sill and watched her. She couldn't see me. No one ever saw me.
My reputation was why I was assigned to keep an eye on Terry. Asshole had finally gotten himself into some deep shit. Begging the Gambinos for protection was the smartest thing he ever did. I would know, I grew up with him.
But I grew up with a lot of people in Brooklyn. Now so many others had moved in and others had moved on, no one knew whose toes they were stepping on. It was my job to make sure those who did the stepping continued and those who didn't approve were dealt with. At whatever cost.
Leaning further towards the window, I zoomed in on her more. She was curvy and thick, exactly what I liked. My cock saluted its approval by pushing against my zipper. She looked nothing like the other women in town, the ones who threw themselves at men without any self respect.
But who was she? For the past four months, I had been holed up in this tiny apartment with its ugly yellow wallpaper. That's how long I had been keeping an eye on Terry Carlisi. If she had been around before, I'd remember. I never forgot details, especially when it came to beautiful women. When she opened the gate to the Carlisis, I did a double take to make sure I had the right house even though I never made mistakes like that.
Tapping my untraceable cell phone, I hit the button for Robert, my Capo, as I kept an eye on the woman. I waited for Terry to come out of the house to help her with her bags, but he didn't. I would've been surprised if that worthless piece of shit did anything to help someone other than himself.
"Speak," Robert answered with his usual greeting.
"It's me," I said. "Momma Carlisi died last night. A visitor arrived today. A woman."
"Probably her youngest. The nun. With the mother gone, your duty is done. That was the deal."
Nun? What a cruel world we lived in that a saintly woman with curves like that would give me such lustful thoughts.
"What about the girl?" I asked. "The Lords of Vengeance don't believe in respect."
"She's not our concern. Pack your things and go. Terry's on his own now."
I hung up, feeling uneasy. A day before I would've been happy to leave this shithole of an apartment, but things were different now. I felt protective over the girl.
The Gambinos rarely dealt with local street gangs, it was beneath them. It was only because of Momma Carlisi's standing and reputation in the community that I was ordered to protect her son until her death.
A louse like him practically deserved to die. This beautiful girl, the nun, didn't deserve whatever the Lords of Vengeance would do to her. She needed protection. I didn't care if it was against orders, I was going to stay and make sure she was safe.
***
Three days had passed since Momma Carlisi died. Days before, I found out my angel's name was Gia. Each day I waited anxiously for any glimpse or sign of her and was rewarded at least once a day when she would step outside and cut a rose from the bushes that lined the gate. It didn't matter to me that she was a nun. Even without that, she was too good for me.
People came and went from her house, but there wasn't a sign of the Lords of Vengeance anywhere. Apparently they did have some respect. After the funeral, family and friends stopped by the house to pay their final respects.
I slipped my Bluetooth into my ear. When I first started protecting Terry, I bugged and made minor alterations throughout the house. I needed to make sure he wasn't getting himself into more trouble and to take care of things if he was.
There were too many conversations going on at once. I didn't care what people were talking about, I wanted to hear her voice. Grabbing my trusty scope again, I peered into the living room windows of the Carlisi house.
Guests moved throughout the house, most with platefuls of food. As I patiently waited, I finally got a glimpse of my angel. She was dressed all in black with a sorrowful look on her face that melted my heart.
In one swift move I set my scope down, closed the laptop, and stood to retrieve my tie. It didn't matter who you were in the Gambino family, you were always nicely dressed. I regularly wore pressed wool slacks with a crisp white button-down shirt. The tie I kept on hand for when I needed to be out in the public.
After tying a Windsor knot around my neck, I grabbed my sports coat and exited the apartment. In minutes I was opening the decorative gate in front of the Carlisi home and entering the house.
Terry spotted me immediately, whispered something to his sister, and vanished to the back of the house. I didn't care what he did. He wasn't my problem anymore.
Gia sat in the middle of an old floral velvet couch. The tiny flowers framed her simple black dress, making her look lovelier. With her feet crossed at the ankles she looked sweet and pure, exactly like the person who had nothing to do with someone like me. Seeing her alone except for the occasional person who kissed her cheek and spoke their condolences, I crossed the room to pay my respects.
"Sister—" I said before she interrupted me with a giggle.
Her face lit up as she laughed and her whole body shook pleasantly. Even her gentle brown eyes crinkled as she laughed. I couldn't help but smile myself and took a seat next to her. For a moment, I was lost in the scent of orange blossoms that surrounded her.
"I'm sorry," she said, holding back her laugher. "It's been a long day. I don't even know most of these people here, you included."
"My apologies, Sister. I'm Dante."
"Hello, Dante. I'm Gia," she said as she held out her hand for me to shake.
I took her small, fragile hand and held it. Her hand was filled with a warmth and life unlike I ever felt before. It took all my willpower to force myself to let go of her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sister."
"Oh, please stop," she said with a big smile showing me her perfect teeth. "There's only one person here who can call me sister, and that's my brother Terry."
I was confused and wanted to press further. Mostly I wanted to hear her voice more, but I couldn't. It wasn't my place to be there. I was a Soldier. I had to return to my post.
"I'm sorry about your loss," I said. "Will you be staying here long?"
She shrugged and looked confused as if she didn't know the answer to my question. Sadness covered her face once more, and I vowed I would never do anything to be the cause of that look.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Geez, it seems all I do is apologize to you." She forced a smile as she blinked back tears. "I promised my mother she would be buried with her favorite rosary beads, and she wasn't."
"Why not?"
She swallowed hard as she looked down at her hands folded on her lap. I couldn't help myself, I placed my hand over hers. She had the softest skin, and that made me want her more.
"My brother sold them. He thought they might be worth something. They're gone."
She broke down in tears and I pulled her against me. Scanning the room, I found Terry. Luckily he was more afraid of what was waiting outside the house than of me.
I stroked her back softly as she regained her composure, then excused myself. Terry kept trying to dodge me, but I knew the house. As he went through one doorway, I turned through another and cornered him.
"Now, Terry," I said slowly, making sure he understood. "You did a very bad thing when you sold your mother's rosary. Look at your sister's face." I grabbed his face and squeezed it as I turned him to look at Gia. "Bad enough she lost her mother, but you lost the rosary."
"I'm sorry," he said, trying to speak. "I didn't know it meant anything."
"You're going to get it back."
"I can't! I don't know where it is. It could be anywhere."
"Terry," I said and squeezed his jaw harder, making him whimper. "You and I both know it's not valuable to anyone else. Go back to the pawn shop or wherever you brought it and buy it back."
"But—"
"Now, Terry." I jerked his head around towards Gia again. "And if you make her look that unhappy again, you'll be guaranteed another visit from me--my last visit." I let go of his face and he nodded. "Go!"
Terry ran out of the house faster than I'd ever seen him move. I wanted to return to Gia, to give her my condolences once more so I could be near her and smell the orange blossoms, but I couldn't. It wasn't my place to pretend or socialize.
My place was across the street in the tiny excuse for an apartment. My place was at the window watching. Seeing, but not being seen. Despite my many attempts to get away from it, my place was that of a killer.
CHAPTER THREE
Gia
The funeral and everything in the past few days had been a blur. Even Terry was a blur. I knew he was avoiding me, and he had every reason to. The little I could get out of him about the trouble he said he was in, I had no idea how it would get fixed.
The day of the funeral was typical. My brothers and sisters, along with many other people, came back to the house afterwards to pay their respects, and some shared a fond memory or two of Momma. It was nice to hear their stories and made me feel close to her once again. But all of that washed away when the tall, gorgeous man entered the living room.
"He's a Gambino," Terry whispered into my ear before hightailing it into the kitchen.
A Gambino? I thought. Everyone knew the Gambino family. They were one of the oldest, most respected, and wealthiest families in Brooklyn. And they were Mafia. At least if one was to believe the rumors.
But being a Gambino didn't mean they were a Gambino, no different than being Catholic didn't make someone the pope. I remembered hearing at one point that some of my older brothers were Gambinos, too. People said things all the time, that didn't make them true.
Terry had been more than paranoid and crazy the past few days. I didn't believe most of what he said anymore. And whether this man standing in the doorway and parting the crowd as he entered the room was a Gambino or not didn't matter to me. Momma knew and loved everyone in the neighborhood. It wouldn't surprise me if some of them were made men.
Truth was none of that was on my mind. This man had eyes as blue as the ocean. His dark hair was short and tousled, yet swept off his forehead. Wearing slacks and a buttoned shirt that fit his broad shoulders perfectly, my mind began to wonder what he looked like without it.
Stifling a giggle as he approached, I felt like a little girl. When he sat next to me, I had to resist the urge to touch the shadow of a beard on his face. When I looked into his eyes, I was surprised I didn't turn into a puddle. They had such an intensity and he was so hot that I couldn't help but embarrass myself.
I hadn't been near a man in so long, and seeing one that made my heart and body react so strongly made me act foolishly like a child. I couldn't contain my laughter and later my tears. It was no wonder he left so abruptly. But it didn't matter to me. Even if I never saw him again, I'd never forget the jolt his touch gave me or the way he said my name.
Later that evening after everyone left, I found Terry standing in Momma's bedroom looking lost. He was obviously taking her death hard, and I felt bad for being so hard on him.
"Terry?" I said. "You okay?"
With a forlorn look on his face, he turned to me. His jaw had the dark marks of a fresh bruise, but his swollen eye was what really caught my attention. "I'm sorry, Gia. I didn't think the rosary beads meant anything to you."
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"What happened to your face?" I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. "Sit," I commanded as I pointed to an old metal-framed stool with a glossy red seat cover.
"Nothing happened. I fell."
I knew he was lying, but I didn't push. Grabbing a paper towel, I loaded it with ice and twisted it closed before gently pressing it to Terry's eye.
"What happened to you, Terry? I used to look up to you when I was little. And now look at you."
"I know, Gia. Trust me, I know. Everything just spiraled out of control after Gabby. I lost so much and I did something stupid, thinking it was an easy way to get some of it back."
"What are you talking about?"
"I got mixed up with the wrong people. I thought it was an easy way to turn a buck fast. I don't know what I was thinking. All I needed to do was sell the drugs and give them the profits, but I got greedy. I thought I could sell them to someone else at a higher price, then buy some lower quality shit and sell that to the contact. I was stupid. I didn't realize he would recognize the difference between what was promised him and what I offered him."
"I can't believe you, Terry! Really? Drugs?! Why would you even do such a thing?"
"Please, Gia. You think I'm proud of this? They're after me now. They want the money from the sale."
"Then give it to them!"
"I don't have it. I told you I sold the drugs and bought the other shit. I didn't have as much left as I thought, and I wanted to increase it. I lost the rest gambling. The Lords of Vengeance don't care about that. They just want their stuff back and if not the drugs, they want the money."
"The Lords of Vengeance? You mean that street gang that's been in the news?"
He nodded. "I did things I wasn't proud of, Gia. I've been trying to make it better since."
As he pulled something out of his shirt pocket, I realized it was Momma's favorite rosary beads. I wanted to keep hating him, but seeing he got them back for me made me believe there was still hope for my brother. Maybe he really would fix things between him and the gang.